Page 803 - Shakespeare - Vol. 3

COUNTESS

This was your motive
For Paris, was it? Speak.

HELENA
My lord your son made me to think of this, [225]
Else Paris and the medicine and the King

Had from the conversation of my thoughts
Haply been absent then.

COUNTESS
But think you, Helen,
If you should tender your supposèd aid,
He would receive it? He and his physicians [230]

Are of a mind: he, that they cannot help him;
They, that they cannot help. How shall they credit
A poor unlearnèd virgin, when the schools,

Embowelled of their doctrine, have left off
The danger to itself?

HELENA
There’s something in’t [235]
More than my father’s skill, which was the greatest
Of his profession, that his good receipt

Shall for my legacy be sanctified
By th’luckiest stars in heaven; and would your honour
But give me leave to try success, I’d venture [240]
The well-lost life of mine on his grace’s cure

By such a day, an hour.

COUNTESS
Dost thou believe’t?

HELENA
Ay, madam, knowingly.

COUNTESS