suffer her poor knight to be surprised, 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,1 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. Enter HELENA. [Exit Steward. Even so it was with me, when I was young. 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 impressed 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? Count. I am a mother to you. Hel. Mine honorable mistress. Count. You know, Helen, Nay, a mother; Why not a mother? When I said, a mother, That were enwombed mine. 'Tis often seen, You ne'er oppressed me with a mother's groan, 1 Since. 2 The old copy reads, "If ever we are nature's." The correction is Pope's. Yet I express to you a mother's care:- Hel. Count. I say, I am your mother. Hel. That I am not. Pardon, madam The count Rousillon cannot be my brother: Count. Nor I your mother? Hel. You are my mother, madam. were 'Would you (So that my lord, your son, were not my brother) 2 Count. Yes, Helen, you might be my daughter-inlaw; 3 God shield, you mean it not! daughter and mother 4 : Your salt tears' head. Now to all sense 'tis gross, To say, thou dost not. Therefore, tell me true; 1 There is a designed ambiguity; i. e. I care as much for; I wish it equally. "Can it be no other way, but if I be your daughter, he must be 2 i. e. my brother?" 3 Contend. 4 The old copy reads loveliness. The emendation is Theobald's. It has been proposed to read lowliness. Confess it, one to the other; and thine eyes That truth should be suspected. Speak, is't so? Hel. Good madam, pardon me! Count. Do you love my son? Your pardon, noble mistress! Do not you love him, madam? Count. Love you my son? The state of your affection; for Hel. Come, come, disclose your passions Then, I confess, Here on my knee, before high Heaven and you, ; My friends were poor, but honest: so's my love. 1 In their language, according to their nature. 2 Johnson is perplexed about this word captious, "which (says he) I never found in this sense, yet I cannot tell what to substitute, unless carious, for rotten." Farmer supposes captious to be a contraction of capacious! Steevens believes that captious meant recipient! capable of receiving! and intenible incapable of holding or retaining:-he rightly explains the latter word, which is printed in the old copy intemible by mistake. The sun, that looks upon his worshipper, Madam, I had. Hel. For general sovereignty; and that he willed me As notes, whose faculties inclusive were, More than they were in note.1 Amongst the rest, To cure the desperate languishes, whereof The king is rendered lost. Count. For Paris, was it? speak. This was your motive 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; 1 Receipts in which greater virtues were inclosed than appeared to observation. They, that they cannot help. How shall they credit Embowelled of their doctrine,1 have left off Hel. There's something hints, 2 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 honor 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. Count. Why, Helen, thou shalt have my leave and love, Means, and attendants, and my loving greetings 3 And pray God's blessing into thy attempt. [Exeunt. 1 Exhausted of their skill. 2 The old copy reads-in't. The emendation is Hanmer's. 3 Into for unto-a common form of expression with old writers. The third folio reads unto. |