The Winter’s Tale
How does the boy?
He took good rest to-night;
'Tis hoped his sickness is discharged.
To see his nobleness!
Conceiving the dishonour of his mother,
He straight declined, droop'd, took it deeply,
Fasten'd and fix'd the shame on't in himself,
Threw off his spirit, his appetite, his sleep,
And downright languish'd. Leave me solely: go,
See how he fares. (2.3.2)
Do come with words as medicinal as true,
Honest as either, to purge him of that humour
That presses him from sleep. (2.3.5)
--what will you adventure
To save this brat's life?
Any thing, my lord,
That my ability may undergo
And nobleness impose: at least thus much:
I'll pawn the little blood which I have left
To save the innocent: any thing possible.
It shall be possible. Swear by this sword
Thou wilt perform my bidding. (2.3.7)