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Her eye is sick on't; I observe her now.
You know, Helen,
I am a mother to you.
Hel. Mine honourable mistress.
Nay, a mother; Why not a mother? When I said, a mother, Methought you saw a serpent: What's in mother, That you start at it? I start at it? I say, I am your mother; And put you in the catalogue of those That were en wombed mine: 'Tis often seen, Adoption strives with nature; and choice breeds A native slip 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, Το say, I am thy mother? What's the matter, That this distemper'd messenger of wet, The many-colour'd Iris, rounds thine eye? Why? that you are my daughter?
Hel. 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.
That I am not.
(So that my lord, your son, were not my brother,) Indeed, my mother!-or were you both our mothers, I care no more for, than I do for heaven,
So I were not his sister: Can't no other,
God shield, you mean it not! daughter, and mother,
Good madam, pardon me!
Your pardon, noble mistress!
The state of your affection; for your passions
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;
And lack not to lose still: thus, Indian-like,
The sun, that looks upon his worshipper,
But knows of him no more. My dearest madam,
Count. Had you not lately an intent, speak truly, To go to Paris?
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 In heedfullest reservation to bestow them, As notes, whose faculties inclusive were, More than they were in note: amongst the rest, There is a remedy, approv'd, set down, To cure the desperate languishings, whereof The king is render'd lost.
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.
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 poor unlearned virgin, when the schools, Embowell'd of their doctrine, 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
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