have your ladyship's good will to go to the world,' Isabel the woman and I will do as we may. Count. Wilt thou needs be a beggar? Clo. I do beg your good will in this case. Service is Clo. In Isabel's case, and mine own. no heritage; and, I think, I shall never have the blessing of God, till I have issue of my body; for, they say, bearns are blessings. 2 Count. Tell me thy reason why thou wilt marry. Clo. My poor body, madam, requires it. I am driven on by the flesh; and he must needs go, that the devil drives. Count. Is this all your worship's reason? Clo. Faith, madam, I have other holy reasons, such as they are. Count. May the world know them? Clo. I have been, madam, a wicked creature, as and all flesh and blood are; and, indeed, I do marry, that I may repent. you Count. Thy marriage, sooner than thy wickedness. Clo. I am out of friends, madam; and I hope to nave friends for my wife's sake. Count. Such friends are thine enemies, knave. Clo. You are shallow, madam; e'en great friends; for the knaves come to do that for me, which I am a weary of. He that ears3 my land, spares my team, and gives me leave to inn the crop if I be his cuckold, he's my drudge. He that comforts my wife, is the cherisher of my flesh and blood; he that cherishes my flesh and blood, loves my flesh and blood; he that loves my flesh and blood, is my friend: ergo,1 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 5 2 Children. 3 Ploughs. 4 Therefore. 1 To be married. 5 Malone conjectures that we should read "Poisson the papist,” alluding to the custom of eating fish on fast days: as Charbon the puritan alludes to the fiery zeal of that sect. It is much in Shakspeare's manner to use significant na nes. the papist, howsoever their hearts are severed in religion, their heads are both one; they may joll horns together, like any deer i'the herd. Count. Wilt thou ever be a foul-mouthed 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 shall find; 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, Why the Grecians sacked Troy? Fond done, done fond, Was this king Priam's joy? And gave this sentence then; [Singing. Count. What, one good in ten? You corrupt the song, sirrah. Clo. One good woman in ten, madam; which is a purifying o'the song. 'Would God would serve the 2 i. e. nature. 3 Foolishly done. 1 The readiest way. 4 The name of Helen brings to the clown's memory this fragment of an old ballad: something has escaped him, it appears; for Paris "was King Priam's only joy," as Helen was sir Paris's; according to two fragments, quoted by the commentators. VOL. II. 46 world so all the year! We'd find no fault with, the tithe-woman, if I were the parson. One in ten, quoth a'! an we might have a good woman born, but one1 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, sir knave, and do as I command you? Clo. That man should be at woman's command, and yet no hurt done!-Though honesty be no puritan, yet it will do no hurt; it will wear the surplice of humility over the black gown of a big heart.2-I am going, forsooth; the business is for Helen to come hither. [Exit Clown. Count. Well, now. Stew. I know, madam, you love your gentlewoman entirely. Count. Faith, I do: her father bequeathed 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 near her 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,3 no queen of virgins, that would 1 Malone proposes to substitute on for one; but this would not materially improve the passage. The clown answers, with the licentious petulance allowed to the character, that "if a man does as a woman commands, it is likely he will do amins;" that he does not amiss, he makes the effect not of his lady's goodness, but of his own honesty, which, though not very nice or puritanical, will do no hurt, but, unlike the puritans, will comply with the injunc tions of superiors; and wear the "surplice of humility over the black gown of a big heart;" will obey commands, though not much pleased with a state of subjection. 3 The old copies or it Diana. Theobald inserted the word. 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,' 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. Such were our faults;-or then we thought them none. 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 Sine. 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.. That I am not. Pardon, madam The count Rousillon cannot be my brother: Count. Nor I your mother? 'Would you Hel. You are my mother, madam. were (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,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. 2 i. e. "Can it be no other way, but if I be your daughter, he must be my brother?" 3 Contend. 4 The old copy reads loveliness. The emendation is Theobald's. It has been proposed to read lowliness. |