That made him heir to Narbonne?
Fab. My best lord,
At all times would I fain withhold from you,
Intelligence unwelcome, but most now.
At seasons such as this, a friendly tongue
Should utter words like balm; but what you ask—
Count. I ask, to be inform'd of. Hast thou known me
From childhood, up to man, and canst thou fear
I am so weak of soul, like a thin reed,
To bend and stagger at such puny blast?