Your marriage comes by destiny,
Your cuckoo sings by kind.
Count. Get you gone, sir; I'll talk with you more anon.
Stew. May it please you, madam, that he bid Helen
come to you: of her I am to speak.
Count. Sirrah, tell my gentlewoman I would speak with
65her; Helen I mean.
Clo. Was this fair face [the cause, quoth she,]
Why the Grecians sacked Troy?
Was this King Priam's [joy]?
[With] that she sighed as she stood,