And gave this sentence then; Count. What, one good in ten? you corrupt the song, sirrah. Clo. One good woman in ten, madam; which is a purifying o' the song: 'Would God would serve the world so all the year! we'd find no fault with the tythe-woman, if I were the parson: One in ten, quoth a'! an we might have a good woman born but every blazing star, or at an earthquake, 'twould mend the lottery well; a man may draw his heart out, ere he pluck one. Count. You'll be gone, sir knave, and do as I command you? Clo. That man should be at woman's command, and yet no hurt done!-Though honesty be no puritan, yet it will do no hurt; it will wear the surplice of humility over the black gown of a big heart. I am going, forsooth: the business is for Helen to come hither. [Exit Clown. Count. Well, now. Stew. I know, madam, you love your gentlewoman entirely. Count. Faith, I do: her father bequeath'd her to me; and she herself, without other advantage, may lawfully make title to as much love as she finds: there is more owing her, than is paid; and more shall be paid her, than she'll demand. Stew. Madam, I was very late more near her than, I think, she wish'd me: alone she was, and did communicate to herself, her own words to her own ears; she thought, I dare vow for her, they touch'd not any stranger sense. Her matter was, she loved your son: Fortune, she said, was no goddess, that had put such difference betwixt their two estates; Love, no god, that would not extend his might, only where qualities were level; Diana, no queen of virgins, that would suffer her poor knight to be surprised, without rescue, in the first assault, or ransom afterward: This she deliver'd in the most bitter touch of sorrow, that e'er I heard virgin exclaim in: which I held my duty, speedily to acquaint you withal; sithence, in the loss that may happen, it concerns you something to know it. Count. You have discharged this honestly; keep it to yourself: many likelihoods inform'd me of this before, which hung so tottering in the balance, that I could neither believe, nor misdoubt: Pray you, leave me stall this in your bosom, and I thank you for your honest care: I will speak with anon. Enter Helena. you further [Exit Steward. Count. Even so it was with me, when I was young: If we are nature's, these are ours; this thorn Doth to our rose of youth rightly belong; Our blood to us, this to our blood is born; It is the show and seal of nature's truth, Where love's strong passion is impress'd in youth: By our remembrances of days foregone, Such were our faults;—or then we thought them none. Her eye is sick on't; I observe her now. Hel. What is your pleasure, madam? I am a mother to you. You know, Helen, Hel. Mine honourable mistress. Nay, a mother; Hel. Count. I say, I am your mother. That I am not. Pardon, madam; The count Rousillon cannot be my brother: Count. Nor I your mother? Hel. You are my mother, madam; 'Would you were с (So that my lord, your son, were not my brother,) in-law; God shield, you mean it not! daughter, and mother, Hel. Do not you love him, madam? Count. Go not about; my love hath in't a bond, Whereof the world takes note: come, come, disclose The state of your affection; for your passions Hel. Then, I confess, Here on my knee, before high heaven and you, My friends were poor, but honest; so's my love: That he is lov'd of me: I follow him not Nor would I have him, till I do deserve him; The sun, that looks upon his worshipper, But knows of him no more. My dearest madam, Wish chastly, and love dearly, that your Dian Hel. 1 |