Comedy plays; Florence (Italy) -- Drama; Married women -- Drama; Runaway husbands -- Drama
COUNTESS. What, one good in ten? You corrupt the song, sirrah.
CLOWN. One good woman in ten, madam, which is a purifying o'
th'
song. Would God would serve the 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 before every
blazing
star, or at an earthquake, 'twould mend the lottery well: a
man
may draw his heart out ere 'a pluck one.
COUNTESS. You'll be gone, sir knave, and do as I command you.
CLOWN. 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.
I am going, forsooth. The business is for Helen to come
hither.
Exit
COUNTESS. Well, now.
STEWARD. I know, madam, you love your gentlewoman entirely.
COUNTESS. Faith I do. Her father bequeath'd 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.
STEWARD. Madam, I was very late more near her than I think she
wish'd me. Alone she was, and did communicate to herself her
own
words to her own ears; she thought, I dare vow for her, they
touch'd 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 no
queen
of virgins, that would suffer her poor knight surpris'd
without
rescue in the first assault, or ransom afterward. This she
deliver'd 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.
COUNTESS. YOU have discharg'd this honestly; keep it to
yourself.
Many likelihoods inform'd me of this before, which hung so
tott'ring 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. Exit STEWARD
Enter HELENA
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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