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    Act 1, Scene III - Page 2

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    i' the herd.

    COUNTESS
    Wilt thou ever be a foul-mouthed and calumnious knave?

    Clown
    A prophet I, madam; and I speak the truth the next
    way:
    For I the ballad will repeat,
    Which men full true shall find;
    Your marriage comes by destiny,
    Your cuckoo sings by kind.

    COUNTESS
    Get you gone, sir; I'll talk with you more anon.

    Steward
    May it please you, madam, that he bid Helen come to
    you: of her I am to speak.

    COUNTESS
    Sirrah, tell my gentlewoman I would speak with her;
    Helen, I mean.

    Clown
    Was this fair face the cause, quoth she,
    Why the Grecians sacked Troy?
    Fond done, done fond,
    Was this King Priam's joy?
    With that she sighed as she stood,
    With that she sighed as she stood,
    And gave this sentence then;
    Among nine bad if one be good,
    Among nine bad if one be good,
    There's yet one good in ten.

    COUNTESS
    What, one good in ten? you corrupt the song, sirrah.

    Clown
    One good woman in ten, madam; which is a purifying
    o' the song: would God would serve the world so all
    the year! we'ld 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 one 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 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
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