COUNTESS	Well, now.

Steward	I know, madam, you love your gentlewoman entirely.

COUNTESS	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.

Steward	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; Dian no queen of virgins, that
	would suffer her poor knight 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.

COUNTESS	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.

	[Exit Steward]

	[Enter HELENA]

	Even so it was with me when I was young:
	If ever 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.

HELENA	What is your pleasure, madam?

COUNTESS	You know, Helen,
	I am a mother to you.

HELENA	Mine honourable mistress.

COUNTESS	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 say, I am your mother;
	And put you in the catalogue of those
	That were enwombed 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
	To 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?

HELENA	That I am not.

COUNTESS	I say, I am your mother.

HELENA	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.

COUNTESS	Nor I your mother?

HELENA	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 mothers,
	I care no more for than I do for heaven,
	So I were not his sister. Can't no other,
	But, I your daughter, he must be my brother?

COUNTESS	Yes, Helen, 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
	The mystery of your loneliness, and find
	Your salt tears' head: now to all sense 'tis gross
	You love my son; invention is ashamed,
	Against the proclamation of thy passion,