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drudge: He, that comforts my wife, is the cherisher of my Aesh and blood; he, that cherishes my Aesh and blood, loves my flesh and blood; he, that loves my flesh and blood, is my friend : ergo, he that kisses my wife, is my friend. If men could be contented to be what they are, there were no fear in marriage; for young Charbon the puritan, and old Poysam the papist, howsoe'er their hearts are sever'd in religion, their hi ads are both one, they may joul horns together, like any deer i' the herd.

Count. Wilt thou ever be a foul-mouth'd and calumnious knave ?

Clo. A prophet, I, madam; and I speak the truth the next way:

For I the ballad will repeat,

Which men full true fall find ;
Your marriage comes by destiny,

Your cuckoo sings by kind.
Count. Get you gone, sir; I'll talk with you more anon.

Stew. May it please you, madam, that he bid Helen come to you; of her I am to speak.

- Count. Sirrah, tell my gentlewoman, I would speak with her; Helen I mean. Clo. Was this fair face the cause, quoth she, [Singing.

Why the Grecians sacked Troy?
For it undone, undone, quoth he,

Was this king Priam's joy. .
With that she fighed as she stood,
With that she fighed as the stood,

And gave this a sentence then ;
Among nine bad if one be good,
Among nine bad if one be good,

There's yet one good in ten.

's Fond done, fond done (for Paris, beid


Count. What, one good in ten? you corrupt the song, sirrah. *Clo. One good woman in ten, madam ; which is a pu. rifying o' the song: 'Would God would serve the world fo 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 on 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, fir knave, and do as I command you?

Clo. That man should be at a woman's command, and yet no hurt done !—Though honesty " be a 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. Count. Well, now.

Stew. I know, madam, you love your gentlewoman intirely.

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 neår 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 w touch'd not any stranger sense. Her matter was, she lov'd your fon : Fortune, she said, was no goddess, that had put such diffe

t on every blazing far,]-upon the appearance of every comet.

u be a puritan, yet it will do no burt;}-somewhat nice and scrupulous, yet it is not obstinately so, it will conform a little-be no puritar.

W touch'd not any stranger sense. 1-reach'd not the audience of another.


rence 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 a 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 discharg'd 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 : ystall 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 shew and seal of nature's truth, Where love's strong passion is imprest in youth: * By our remembrances of days foregone, Such were our faults, Oh! then we thought them none. Her eye is sick on't; I observe her now. · Hel. What is your pleasure, madam?

Count. You know, Helen,
I am a mother to you.

Hel. Mine honourable mistress.
Count. Nay a mother;

> knight]-votary, one of her train.
y fall]--confine, conceal. z these]-affections.
By our remembrances] According to our recollection.


Why not a mother ? When I said, a mother,
Methought you saw a serpent: What's in mother,
That you start at it? I say, I am your mother ;
And put you in the catalogue of those
That were enwombed mine : 'Tis often seen,
Adoption strives with nature ; and choice breeds
A native Nip to us from foreign seeds :
You ne'er oppress’d me with a mother's groan,
Yet I express to you a mother's care:-
God's mercy, maiden! does it curd thy blood,
To say, I am thy mother ? What's the matter,
That this distemper'd messenger of wet,
The many-colourd Iris, rounds thine eye ?
Why? - that you are my daughter ?

Hel. That I am not.
Count. I say, I am your mother.
· Hel. Pardon, madam ;
The count Rousillon cannot be my brother :
I am from humble, he from honour'd name ;
No note upon my parents, his all noble:
My master, my dear lord he is; and I
His servant live, and will his vassal die :
He must not be my brother,

Count. Nor I your mother? Hel. You are my mother, madam; 'Would you were (So that my lord, your son, were not my brother) Indeed, my mother!-or were you both our mothers,

I'd care no more for't, than I do for heaven,
So I were not his sister : "Can't no other,
But, I your daughter, he must be my brother?

o choice breeds a native slip to us from foreign seeds :]-choice rears and cherishes a foreign lip with the same fondness, as though it were native, or sprung from ourselves.

I'd care no more for't, than I do]-I'd wish as much for it, as I do. -I care no more for. Can't no other, but,)-Can it be no otherwise, but if I be.


Count. Yes, Helen, you might be my daughter-in-law;
God shield, you mean it not ! daughter, and mother,
So strive upon your pulse: What, pale again?
My fear hath catch'd your fondness: Now I see
The mystery of your loneliness, and find
Your falt tears' head. Now to all sense 'tis gross,
You love my son ; invention is alham'd,
Against the proclamation of thy passion,
To say, thou dost not : therefore tell me true;
But tell me then, 'tis so:—for, look, thy cheeks
Confess it one to the other; and thine eyes
See it so grosly shewn in thy behaviours,
That in their kind they speak it ; only sin
And hellish obstinacy tie thy tongue,
That truth should be suspected: Speak, is't so ?
If it be so, you have wound a goodly clue;
If it be not, forswear't : howe'er, I charge thee,
As heaven shall work in me for thine avail,
To tell me truly.

Hel. Good madam, pardon me!
Count. Do you love my son ?-
Hel. Your pardon, noble mistress!
Count. Love you my son ?
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
Have to the full appeach'd.

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 :-

e loveliness; lowlinessthis depression of your spirits.
i pould be suspected :]-should not appear.


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