without rescue, in the first assault, or ransom 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. Such were our faults; or then we thought them none. Hel. What is your pleasure, Madam? Count. Nay, a mother; Why not a mother? When I said a mother, That were enwombed mine: 'Tis often seen, You ne'er oppress'd me with a mother's groan, Hel. That I am not. Count. I say, I am your mother. The count Rousillon cannot be my brother: I am from humble, he from honour'd name; Count. Nor I your mother? Hel. You are my mother, Madam; 'Would you were (So that my lord, your son, were not my brother), * Since. Indeed, my mother!-or were you both our mothers, So I were not his sister: Can't no other, But, I your daughter, he must be my brother? Count. Yes, Helen, you might be my daughter-in-law; Your salt tears' head. Now to all sense 'tis gross, To say thou dost not: therefore tell me true; 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, I love your son: My friends were poor, but honest; so's my love. That he is loved of me: I follow him not By any token of presumptuous suit; 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, *I. e. I care as much for: I wish it equally. The source, the cause of your grief. Receiving, but not retaining. Let not your hate encounter with my love, Wish chastely, and love dearly, that your Dian Count. Had you not lately an intent, speak truly, Hel. Madam, I had. Count. Wherefore? tell true. Hel. I will tell truth; by grace itself, I swear. For general sovereignty; and that he will'd me More than they were in note: amongst the rest, To cure the desperate languishes, whereof The king is rendered lost. Count. This was your motive For Paris, was it? speak. Hel. My lord your son made me to think of this; Else Paris, and the medicine, and the king, Had, from the conversation of my thoughts, Haply, been absent then. Count. But think you, Helen, If 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 Hel. There's something hints, More than my father's skill, which was the greatest 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 The well-lost life of mine on his grace's cure, By such a day, and hour. Count. Dost thou believe 't? Hel. Ay, madam, knowingly. * I. e. proves. + I. e. Venus. Receipts in which greater virtues were enclosed than appeared. § Exhausted of their skill. Count. Why, Helen, thou shalt have my leave, and love, [Exeunt. ACT II. SCENE I.-Paris. A Room in the King's Palace. Flourish. Enter KING, with young LORDS taking leave for the King. Farewell, young lord, these warlike principles And is enough for both. 1 Lord. It is our hope, Sir, After well-enter'd soldiers, to return And find your grace in health. King. No, no, it cannot be; and yet my heart That doth my life besiege. Farewell, young lords; The bravest questant* shrinks, find what you seek, 2 Lord. Health, at your bidding, serve your majesty! Before you serve.t Both. Our hearts receive your warnings. [The KING retires to a couch. 1 Lord. O my sweet lord, that you will stay behind us! Par. 'Tis not his fault: the spark 2 Lord. O, 'tis brave wars! Par. Most admirable: I have seen those wars. Ber. I am commanded here, and kept a coil with; Par. An thy mind stand to it, boy, steal away bravely. * Seeker. With a noise, bustle. † Be not captives before you are soldiers. To lead ladies out to dance. Creaking my shoes on the plain masonry, Till honour be bought up, and no sword worn, But one to dance with!* By heaven, I'll steal away. 1 Lord. There's honour in the theft. Par. Commit it, count. 2 Lord. I am your accessary; and so farewell. Ber. I grow to you, and our parting is a tortured body. 1 Lord. Farewell, captain. 2 Lord. Sweet Monsieur Parolles ! Par. Noble heroes, my sword and yours are kin. Good sparks and lustrous, a word, good metals:-You shall find in the regiment of the Spinii, one Captain Spurio, with his cicatrice, an emblem of war, here on his sinister cheek; it was this very sword intrenched it: say to him, I live; and observe his reports for me. 2 Lord. We shall, noble captain. Par. Mars dote on you for his novices! What will you do? Ber. Stay, the king [Exeunt LORDS.] [Seeing him rise. Par. Use a more spacious ceremony to the noble lords; you have restrained yourself within the list of too cold an adieu: be more expressive to them; for they wear themselves in the cap of the time,t there, do muster true gait, eat, speak, and move under the influence of the most received star; and though the devil lead the measure, § such are to be followed: after them, and take a more dilated farewell. Ber. And I will do so. Par. Worthy fellows; and like to prove most sinewy sword[Exeunt BERTRAM and PAROLLES. men. Enter LAFEU. Laf. Pardon, my lord [Kneeling], for me and for my tidings. King. I'll fee thee to stand up. Laf. Then here's a man Stands, that has brought his pardon. I would, you Had kneel'd, my lord, to ask me mercy; and That, at my bidding, you could so stand up. King. I would I had; so I had broke thy pate, And ask'd thee mercy for't. Laf. Goodfaith, across:|| But my good lord, 'tis thus; Will you be cured King. No. Laf. O, will you eat No grapes, my royal fox? yes, but you will, My noble grapes, an if my royal fox Could reach them: I have seen a medicine,T * A mere dress-sword. †They are the foremost in the fashion. Have the true military step. The dance. A failure; a phrase taken from the exercise at a quaintaine. |