ALL'S WELL THAT ENDS WELL. ACT I. SCENE I. Helena. WERE that all !—I think not on my father; more Than those I shed for him. What was he I have forgot him: my imagination To see him every hour; to sit and draw In our heart's table-heart too capable Of every line and trick of his sweet favour; But now he's gone, and my idolatrous fancy Must sanctify his relicks. Who comes here? (Enter PAROLLES.) One that goes with him: I love him for his sake; Think him a great way fool, solely a coward; Yet these fix'd evils sit so fit in him That they take place, when virtue's steely bones Helena. Our remedies oft in ourselves do lie SCENE III. Countess. 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: 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. * Countess. What 's the matter, That this distemper'd messenger of wet, 31 The many-coloured Iris, rounds thine eye? 31 Why?—that you are my daughter? Countess. Yes, Helena, 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 Your salt tears' head. Now to all sense 't is gross; Against the proclamation of thy passion, To say, thou dost not: therefore tell me true : Helena. Good madam, pardon me! Countess. Do you love my son ? Your pardon, noble mistress. Countess. Love you my son? Do you not him, madam? Countess. 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. Helena. Then I confess Here on my knee, before high heaven and you, 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, Wish chastly, and love dearly, that your Dian U That seeks not to find that her search implies, ACT II. SCENE I. Helena. If I break time, or flinch in property And well deserv'd: Not helping, death 's my fee; King. Make thy demand. Helena. But will you make it even? King. Ay, by my sceptre, and my hopes of heaven. Helena. Then shalt thou give me, with thy kingly hand, What husband in thy power I will command: Exempted be from me the arrogance To choose from forth the royal blood of France; My love and humble name to propagate With any branch or image of thy state : But such a one, thy vassal, whom I know King. Here is my hand; &c. SCENE III. Helena. Now, Dian, from thy altar do I fly; SCENE V. Helena. I am not worthy of the wealth I owe; Nor dare I say, 'tis mine; and yet it is; But, like a timorous thief, most fain would steal |