Page 802 - Shakespeare - Vol. 3

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, [200]
Let not your hate encounter with my love,
For loving where you do; but if yourself,
Whose aged honour cites a virtuous youth,

Did ever, in so true a flame of liking,
Wish chastely and love dearly, that your Dian [205]
Was both herself and love − O 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 dies. [210]

COUNTESS
Had you not lately an intent − speak truly −

To go to Paris?

HELENA

Madam, I had.

COUNTESS
Wherefore? tell true.

HELENA
I will tell truth, by grace itself I swear.
You know my father left me some prescriptions
Of rare and proved effects, such as his reading [215]

And manifest experience had collected
For general sovereignty; and that he willed me
In heedfullest reservation to bestow them,
As notes whose faculties inclusive were

More than they were in note. Amongst the rest [220]
There is a remedy, approved, set down,
To cure the desperate languishings whereof
The King is rendered lost.