than, I think, she wished me alone she was, and did communicate to herself, her own words to her own ears; she thought, I dare vow for her, they touched 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 ransome afterward: This she delivered 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 informed 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 you further anon. [Exit Steward. Enter Helena." 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, (1) Since. Hel. Mine honourable mistress. Count. Nay, a mother; That were enwombed mine: 'Tis often seen, You ne'er oppress'd me with a mother's groan, That I am not. Count. I say, I am your mother. Count. Nor I your mother? Hel. You are my mother, madam; 'Would you were (So that my lord, your son, were not my brother,) So I were not his sister: Can't no other, God shield, you mean it not! daughter, and mother, (1) i. e. I care as much for: I wish it equally. My fear hath catch'd your fondness: Now I see That truth should be suspected: Speak, is't so? Hel. Your pardon, noble mistress! Count. Love you my son? Do not you love him, madam? Count. Go not about; my love hath in't a bond, Whereof the world takes note: come, come, dis close The state of your affection; for your passions Hel. Then, I confess, Here on my knee, before high heaven and you, That before you, and next unto high heaven, I love your son : My friends were poor, but honest; so's my love: Be not offended; for it hurts not him, That he is lov'd of me: I follow him not By any token of presumptuous suit; Nor would I have him, till I do deserve him; (1) The source, the cause of your grief. Yet, in this captious and intenable sieve, The sun, that looks upon his worshipper, Wish chastely, and love dearly, that your Dian Hel. Count. Madam, I had. Wherefore? tell true. Hel. I will tell truth, by grace itself, I swear. You know, my father left me some prescriptions Of rare and prov'd effects, such as his reading, And manifest experience, had collected For general sovereignty; and that he will'd me To cure the desperate languishes, whereof Count. For Paris, was it? speak. This was your motive Hel. My lord your son made me to think of this; (1) i, e. Whose respectable conduct in age proves that you were no less virtuous when young. (2) i. e. Venus. (3) Receipts in which greater virtues were enclosed than appeared. Else Paris, and the medicine, and the king, If Count. But think you, Helen, you should tender your supposed aid, He would receive it? He and his physicians Are of a mind; he, that they cannot help him, They, that they cannot help: How shall they credit A poor unlearned virgin, when the schools, Embowell'd of their doctrine,1 have left off The danger to itself? Hel. There's something hints, More than my father's skill, which was the greatest Of his profession, that his good receipt Shall, for my legacy, be sanctified By the luckiest stars in heaven: and, would your honour But give me leave to try success, I'd venture Count. Dost thou believe't? Hel. Ay, madam, knowingly. Count. Why, Helen, thou shalt have my leave, and love, Means, and attendants, and my loving greetings (1) Exhausted of their skill, |