You've told her what a precious place it is.

Helen. I have.

Wal. I even guessed as much. For that
I told thee of her; brought thee here to see her;
And prayed thee to sojourn a space with her;
That its fair space, from thy too fair report,
Might strike a novice less--so less deceive her.
I did not put thee under check.

Helen. 'Twas right, -
Else had I broken loose, and run the wilder!
So knows she not her father yet: that's strange.
I prithee how does mine?

Wal. Well--very well.
News for thee.

Helen. What?

Wal. Thy cousin is in town.

Helen. My cousin Modus?

Wal. Much do I suspect
That cousin's nearer to thy heart than blood.

Helen. Pshaw! Wed me to a musty library!
Love him who nothing loves but Greek and Latin!