My being here it is that holds thee hence :
Shall I stay here to do't? no, no, although
The air of paradise did fan the house,
And angels offic'd all: I will be gone;
That pitiful rumour may report my flight
To consolate thine ear. Come, night; end, day!
For, with the dark, poor thief, l’ll steal away.

[Exit.

SCENE

V.

Florence.

TH

Flourish. Enter the Duke of Florence, Bertram, Drum and

Trumpets, Soldiers, Parolles.
Duke. HE general of our horse thou art; and we,

Great in our hope, lay our best love and credence Upon thy promising fortune.

Ber. Sir, it is
A charge too heavy for my strength; but yet
We'll strive to bear it for your worthy fake,
To th'extreme edge of hazard.

Duke. Then go forth,
And fortune play upon thy prosp'rous helm,
As thy auspicious mistress?

Ber. This very day,
Great Mars, I put myself into thy file;
Make me but like my thoughts, and I shall prove
A lover of thy drum; hater of love.

[Exeunt.

Vol. II.

Bbb

SCENE

Rousillon in France,

Enter Countess, and Steward.
Count. LAS! and would you take the letter of her?

Might you not know, she would do as she has done, By sending me a letter? Read it again.

A

na

Letter.
I am saint Jaques' pilgrim, thither

gone ; Ambitious love bath fo in me offended, That barefoot plod I the cold ground upon,

With sainted vow my faults to have amended, Write, write, that, from the bloody course of war,

My deareft master, your dear fon, may hie; Bless him at home in peace, whilf I from far

His name with zealous fervour fan&tify: His taken labours bid him me forgive;

1, bis despiteful Juno, fent bim forth
From courtly friends, with camping faes to live,

Where death and danger dog the heels of worth.
He is too good and fair for death and me,
Whom I myself embrace, to set him free.

Ah, what sharp stings are in her mildeft words !
Rynaldo, you ne'er lack'd advice fo much,
As letting her pass fo; had I spoke with her,

could have well diverted her intents, Which thus she hath prevented.

Stew. Pardon, madam,
If I had given you this at overnight
She might have been o’erta’en ; and yet she writes,
Pursuit would be but vain.

Count.

Count. What angel shall
Bless this unworthy husband ? he cannot thrive,
Unless her prayers, which heav'n delights to hear
And loves to grant, reprieve him from the wrath
Of greatest justice. Write, o, write, Rynaldo,
To this unworthy husband of his wife;
Let every word weigh heavy of her worth,
That he does weigh too light: my greatest grief,
Though little does he feel it, set down sharply.
Despatch the most convenient messenger:
When, haply, he shall hear that she is

gone,
He will return; and hope I may, that she,
Hearing so much, will speed her foot again,
Led hither by pure love. Which of them both
Is dearest to me, I've no skill in sense
To make distinction. Provide this messenger :
My heart is heavy, and mine age is weak,
Grief would have tears, but sorrow bids me speak. [Exeunt.

Wid.

NA

A Tucket afar off. Enter an old Widow of Florence, Diana, Violenta, and Mariana,

with other Citizens. AY, come: for if they do approach the city, we

shall lose all the sight. Dia. They say, the French count has done most honourable service.

Wid. It is reported that he has ta’en their greatest commander, and that with his own hand he flew the duke's brother. We have lost our labour, they are gone a contrary way: hark ! you may know by their trumpets.

ВЪь 2

Mar.

Mar. Come, let's return again, and suffice ourselves with the report of it. Well, Diana, take heed of this French earl: the honour of a maid is her name; and no legacy is so rich as honesty.

Wid. I have told my neighbour, how you have been solicited by a gentleman his companion.

Mar. I know that knave; hang him! one Parolles : a filthy officer he is in those suggestions for the young earl: beware of them, Diana; their promises, enticements, oaths, tokens, and all these engines of lust, are but the things they go under; many a maid hath been feduced by them, and the misery is, example, that so terrible shows in the wreck of maidenhood, cannot for all that dissuade succession, but that they are limed with the twigs that threaten them. I hope, I need not to advise you further; but, I hope, your own grace will keep you where you are, though there were no further danger found, but the modesty which is to loft. Dia. You shall not need to fear me,

Enter Helena disguised like a Pilgrim. Wid. I hope fo. Look, here comes a pilgrim : I know, she will lie at my house; thither they send one another; I'll question her : god save you, pilgrim! whither are you bound ?

Hel. To saint Jaques le grand. Where do the palmers lodge, I do beseech you?

Wid. At the saint Francis here beside the port.
Hel. Is this the way?

(a march afar off. Wid. Ay, marry, is't. Hark you! they come this way:

if you will tarry, holy pilgrim, but till the troops come by, I will conduct you where you shall be lodg’d; The rather, for, I think, I know your hostess As ample as myself.

Hel. Is it yourself?
Wid. If you shall please fo, pilgrim.
Hel. I thank you, and will stay upon your

leisure.
Wid. You came, I think, from France ?
Hel. True, I did so.

:

a

name,

pray you?

a

Wid. Here you shall see a countryman of yours,
That has done worthy service.

Hel. His , I
Dia. The count Rousillon ; know you such a one?

Hel. But by the ear, that hears most nobly of him;
His face I know not.

Dia. Whatsoe'er he is,
He's bravely taken here. He stole from France,
As 'tis reported; for the king had married him
Against his liking: think you it is so?
Hel

. Ay, surely, the mere truth; I know his lady. Dia. There is a gentleman that serves the count Reports but coarsely of her.

Hel. What's his name?
Dia. Monsieur Parolles.

Hel. O, I believe with him,
In argument of praise, or to the worth
Of the great count himself, she is too mean
To have her name repeated; all her deserving
Is a reserved honesty, and that
I have not heard examin’d.

Dia. Ah, poor lady!
'Tis a hard bondage to become the wife
Of a detesting lord.

Wid. Ah! right; good creature! wheresoe'er she is,
Her heart weighs fadly : this young maid might do her
A shrewd turn, if she pleas’d.

Hel. How do you mean?
May be, the am'rous count folicits her
In the unlawful purpose.

Wid. He does, indeed;
And brokes with all that can in such a suit
Corrupt the tender honour of a maid :
But she is arm’d for him, and keeps her guard
In honestest defence.

a

a

SCENE