HELEN

I do affect a sorrow indeed, but I have it too. Oh were that all, I think not on my father, And these great tears grace his remembrance more Then those I shed for him. What was he Like? I have forgot him. My imagination Carries no favour in't but Bertrams. I am undone, there is no living, none, If Bertram be away. 'Twere all one, That I should love a bright particular star, And think to wed it, he is so above me In his bright radiance and collateral light, Must I be comforted, not in his sphere; the ambition in my love thus plagues it self: The hind that would be mated by the Lion Must die for love. 'Twas pretty, though a plague To see him every hour to fit and draw His arched brows, his hawking eye, his curls In our hearts 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 Relics. Who comes here? One that goes with him: I love him for his sake, And yet I know him a notorious Liar, Think him a great way fool, solie a coward, Yet these fixed evils fit so fit in him, That they take place, when Virtues steely bones Looks bleak in that cold wind: withal, full oft we see Cold wisdom weighting on superfluous folly. What is your pleasure Madam? Mine honourable Mistress. That I am not. Pardon Madam. The Count Rosillion cannot be my brother: I am from humble, he from honoured name: No note upon my Parents, his all noble, My Master, my deer Lord he is, and I His servant live, and will his vassal die: He must not be my brother. You are my mother Madam, would you were So that my Lord your son were not my brother, Indeed my mother, or were you both our mother's, I care no more for, then I do for heaven, So I were not his sister, cant no other, But I your daughter, he must be my brother. Good Madam pardon me. Your pardon noble Mistress. Do not you love him Madam? 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 loved of me; I follow him not By any token of presumptuous suit, Nor would I have him, till I do deserve him, Yet never know how that desert should be: I know I love in vain, strive against hope: Yet in this captious, and intemible Sive. I still pour in the waters of my love And lack not to lose still; thus Indian Like Religious in mine error, I adore The Sun that looks upon his worshipper, But knows of him no more. My dearest Madam, Let not your hate encounter with my love, For loving where you do; but if your self, Whose aged honour cites a virtuous youth, Did ever, in so true a flame of liking, Wish chastely, and love dearly, that your Dian Was both her self and love, Oh then give pity To her whose state is such, that cannot choose But lend and give where she is sure to lose; That seeks not to find that, her search implies, But riddle Like, lives sweetly where she die. I will tell truth by grace it self I swear: You know my Father left me some prescriptions Of rare and proved effects, such as his reading And manifest experience, had collected For general sovereignty: and that he wiled me In heedefull'st reservation to bestow them, As notes, whose faculties inclusive were, More then they were in note: Amongst the rest, There is a remedy, approved, set down, To cure the desperate languishings whereof The King is rendered lost. 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, Happily been absent then. There's something in't More then 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'de venture The well lost life of mine, on his Graces cure, By such a day, and hour. I Madam knowingly. My duty then shall pay me for my pains: I will no more enforce mine office on you, Humbly entreating from your royal thoughts, A modest one to bear me back again. What I can do, can do no hurt to try, Since you set up your rest against remedy: He that of greatest works is finisher, Oft does them by the weakest minister: So holy Writ, in babes hath judgement shown, When Judges have been babes; great floods have flown From simple sources: and great Seas have dried When Miracles have by the greatest been denied. Oft expectation fails, and most oft there Where most it promises: and oft it hits, Where hope is coldest, and despair most shifts. Tax of impudence, A strumpets boldness, a divulged shame Traduced by odious ballads: my maidens name Seared otherwise, ne worse of worst extended With vildest torture, let my life be ended. I pray you come sirrah. And you Monarch. And no. If you have some stain of soldier in you: Let me ask you a question. Man is enemy to virginity, how may we barracado it against him? But he assails, and our virginity though vali ant, in the defence yet is weak: unfold to us some war Like resistance. Bless our poor Virginity from underminers and blowers up. Is there no Military policy how Vir begins might blow up men? I will stand for't a little, though therefore I die a Virgin. How might one do sir, to lose it to her own liking? Not my virginity yet: There shall your Master have a thousand loves, A Mother, and a Mistress, and a friend, A Phoenix, Captain, and and enemy A guide, a Goddess, and a Sovereign, A Counsellor, a Traitoress, and a Dear: His humble ambition, proud humility: His jarring, concord: and his discord, dulcet: His faith, his sweet disaster: with a world Of pretty found adoptious christendomes That blinking Cupid gossips. Now shall he: I know not what he shall, God send him well, The Courts a learning place, and he is one. That I wish well, it's pity. That wishing well had not a body in't, Which might be felt, that we the poorer born, Whose baser stars do shut us up in wishes, Might with effects of them follow our friends, And show what we alone must think, which never Returns us thanks. Monsieur Paroles, you were born under a charitable star. I especially think, under Mars. The wars hath so kept you under, that you must needs be born under Mars. When he was retrograde I think rather. You go so much backward when you fight. So is running away, When fear proposes the safety: But the composition that your valour and fear makes in you, is a virtue of a good wing, and I Like the wear well. Our remedies oft in our selves do lie, Which we ascribe to heaven: the fated sky Gives us free scope, only does backward pull Our slow designs, when we our selves are dull. What power is it, which mounts my love so hie, That makes me see, and cannot feed mine eye? The mightiest space in fortune, Nature brings To join Like, likes; and kiss Like native things. Impossible be strange attempts to those That weigh their pains in sense, and do suppose What hath been, cannot be. Who ever strove To show her merit, that did miss her love? (The Kings disease) my project may deceive me, But my intents are fixed, and will not leave me. I my good Lord, Gerard de Narbon was my father, In what he did profess, well found. The rather will I spare my praises towards him, Knowing him is enough on's bed of death, Many receits he gave me, chiefly one, Which as the dearest issue of his practice And of his old experience, the only darling, He bade me store up, as a triple eye, Safer then mine own two: more deer I have so, And hearing your high Majesty is touched With that malignant cause, wherein the honour Of my deer father's gift, stands chief in power, I come to tender it, and my appliance, With all bound humbleness. Inspired Merit so by breath is barred, It is not so with him that all things knows As it's with us, that square our guess by shows: But most it is presumption in us, when The help of heaven we count the act of men. Dear sir, to my endeavors give consent, Of heaven, not me, make and experiment. I am not and Impostrue, that proclaim My self against the levill of mine aim, But know I think, and think I know most sure, My Art is not passed power, nor you passed cure. The greatest grace lending grace, Ere twice the horses of the sun shall bring Their fiery torcher his diurnal ring, Ere twice in murk and occidental damp Moist Hesperus, hath quenched her sleepy Lamp: Or four and twenty times the Pilots glass Hath told the thievish minutes, how they pass: What is infirm, from your found parts shall fly, Health shall live free, and sickness freely die. If I break time, or flinch in property Of what I spoke, unpitied let me die, And well deserved: not helping, death's my see, But if I help, what do you promise me. But will you make it even? 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 low and humble name to propagate With any branch or image of thy state: But such a one thy vassal, whom I know Is free for me to ask, thee to bestow. To each of you, one fair and virtuous Mistress; Fallen when love please, marry to each but one. Gentlemen, heaven hath through me, restored the king to health. I am a simple Maid, and therein wealthiest That I protest, I simply am a Maid: Please it your Majesty, I have done already: The blushes in my cheeks thus whisper me, We blush that thou shouldst choose, but be refused; Let the white death fit on thy cheek for ever, We'll never come there again. Now Dian from thy Altar do I fly, And to imperial love, that God most high Do my sighs stream: Sir, will you hear my suit? Thanks sir, all the rest is mute. The honour sir that flames in your fair eyes, Before I speak too threateningly replies: Love make your Fortune's twenty times above Her that so wishes, and her humble love. My wish receive, Which great love grant, and so I take my leave. Be not afraid that I your hand should take, I'll never do you wrong for your own sake: Blessing upon your vows, and in your bed Find fairer fortune, if you ever wed. I dare not say I take you, but I give Me and my service, ever while I live Into your guiding power: This is the man. That you are well restored my Lord, I'm glad: Let the rest go. My mother greets me kindly, is she well? If she be very well, what do's she ail, that she's not very well? What two things? I hope sir I have your good will to have mine own good fortune. What more commands he? In every thing I wait upon his will. I have sir as I was commanded from you Spoke with the King, and have procured his leave For present parting, only he desires Some private speech with you. Sir, I can nothing say, But that I am your most obedient servant. And ever shall With true observance seek to eke out that Wherein towards me my homely stars have failed To equal my great fortune. Pray sir your pardon. I am not worthy of the wealth I owe, Nor dare I say it's mine: and yet it is, But Like a timorous thief, most feign would steal What law does vouch mine own. Something, and scarce so much: nothing indeed, I would not tell you what I would my Lord: Faith yes, Strangers and foes do sunder, and not kiss. I shall not break your bidding, good my Lord: Where are my other men? Monsieur, farewell. Madam, my Lord is gone, for ever gone. Look on his Letter Madam, here's my Passport. This is a dreadful sentence. Till I have no wife, I have nothing in France, It's bitter. I Madame. Till I have no wife I have nothing in France. Nothing in France until he has no wife: Thou shalt have none Rossillion, none in France, Then hast thou all again: poor Lord, is't I That chase thee from thy Country, and expose Those tender limbs of thine, to the event Of the none-sparing war? And is it I, That driven thee from the sportive Court, where thou Was't shot at with fair eyes, to be the mark Of smoky Musk ts? Oh you leaden messengers, That ride upon the violent speed of fire, Fly with false aim, move the still-peering air That sings with piercing, do not touch my Lord: Who ever shoots at him, I set him there. Who ever charges on his forward breast I am the Caitiff that do hold him too't, And though I kill him not, I am the cause His death was so effected: Better 'twere I met the ravine Lion when he roared With sharp constraint of hunger: better 'twere, That all the Misery's which nature owes Were mine at once. No come thou home Rossillion, Whence honour but of danger wins a scar, As oft it looses all. I will be gone: My being here it is, that holds thee hence, Shall I stay here to doo't? No, no, although The air of Paradise did fan the house, And Angles officed all: I will be gone, That pitiful rumour may report my flight To consolate thine ear. Come night, end day, For with the dark (poor thief) I'll steal away. To S. Jaques la grand. Where do the Palmer's lodge, I do beseech you? Is this the way? Is it your self? I thank you, and will stay upon your leisure. I did so. His name I pray you? But by the ear that hears most nobly of him: His face I know not. I surely mere the truth, I know his Lady. What's his name? O I believe with him, In argument of praise, or to the worth Of the great Count himself, she is too mean To have her name repeated, all her deserving Is a reserved honesty, and that I have not herd examined. How do you mean? May be the amorous Count solicits her In the unlawful purpose. Which is the Frenchman? I Like him well. Which is he? Perchance he S hurt in that battle. I humbly thank you: Please it this Matron, and this gentle Maid To eat with us to night, the charge and thanking Shall be for me and to requite you further, I will bestow some precepts of this Virgin, Worthy the note. If you misdoubt me that I am not she, I know not how I shall assure you further, But I shall lose the grounds I work upon. Nor would I wish you. First give me trust, the Count he is my husband, And what to your sworn counsel I have spoken, Is so from word to word: and then you cannot By the good aid that I of you shall borrow, Err in bestowing it. Take this purse of Gold, And let me buy your friendly help thus far, Which I will overpay, and pay again When I have found it. The Count he woes your daughter, Lays down his wanton siege before her beauty, Resolve to carry her: let her in fine consent As we'll direct her how it's best to bear it: Now his important blood will nought deny, That shee'l demand: a ring the County wears, That downward hath succeeded in his house From son to son, some four or five descents, Since the first father wore it. This Ring he holds In most rich choice: yet in his idle fire, To buy his will, it would not seem too deer, How ere repented after. You see it lawful then, it is no more, But that your daughter ere she seems as won, Desires this Ring; appoints him and encounter; In fine, delivers me to fill the time, Her self most chastely absent: after To marry her, I'll add three thousand Crowns To what is passed already. Why then to night Let us assay our plot, which if it speed, Is wicked meaning in a lawful deed; And lawful meaning in a lawful act, Where both not sin, and yet a sinful fact. But let's about it. That you may well perceive I have not wronged you, One of the greatest in the Christian world Shall be my surety: for whose throne it's needful Ere I can perfect mine intents, to kneel. Time was, I did him a desired office Dear almost as his life, which gratitude Through flinty Tartars bosom would peep forth, And answer thanks. I duly am informed, His grace is at Marcellae, to which place We have convenient convoy: you must know I am supposed dead, the Army breaking, My husband hies him home, where heaven aiding, And by the leave of my good Lord the King, We'll be before our welcome. Nor your Mistress Ever a friend, whose thoughts more truly labour To recompense your love: Doubt not but heaven Hath brought me up to be your daughters dower, As it hath fated her to be my motive And helper to a husband. But Oh strange men, That can such sweet use make of what they hate, When saucy trusting of the Cousin thoughts Defiles the pitchy night, so lust does play With what it loathes, for that which is away, But more of this hereafter: you Diana, Under my poor instructions yet must suffer Something in my behalf. Yet I pray you: But with the word the time will bring on summer, When Briers shall have leaves as well as thorns, And be as sweet as sharp: we must away, Our Wagon is prepared, and time revives us, All's well that ends well, still the fines the Crown; What ere the course, the end is the renown. But this exceeding posting day and night, Must wear your spirits low, we cannot help it: But since you have made the days and nights as one, To wear your gentle limbs in my affairs, Be bold you do so grow in my requital, As nothing can unroot you. In happy time, This man may help me to his Majesties ear, If he would spend his power. God save you sir. Sir, I have seen you in the Court of France. I do presume sir, that you are not fallen From the report that goes upon your goodness, And therefore goaded with most sharp occasions, Which lay nice manners by, I put you to The use of your own virtues, for the which I shall continue thankful. That it will please you To give this poor petition to the King, And aid me with that store of power you have To come into his presence. Not here sir? All's well that ends well yet, Though time seem so adverse, and means unfit: I do beseech you, whither is he gone? I do beseech you sir, Since you are Like to see the King before me, Commend the paper to his gracious hand, Which I presume shall render you no blame, But rather make you thank your pains for it, I will come after you with what good speed Our means will make us means. And you shall find your self to be well thanked what ever falls more. We must to horse again, Go, go, provide. No my good Lord, It's but the shadow of a wife you see, The name, and not the thing. O my good Lord, when I was Like this Maid, I found you wondrous kind, there is your Ring, And look you, heeres your letter: this it says, When from my finger you can get this Ring, And is by me with child, &c. This is done, Will you be mine now you are doubly won? If it appear not plain, and prove untrue, Deadly divorce step between me and you. Oh my deer mother do I see you living? Madam I had. What's his will else?