And thou art all my child. Towards Florence is he? 2 Gent. Ay, Madam.

Count. And to be a foldier?

2 Gent. Such is his noble purpofe; and, believe't, The Duke will lay upon him all the honour That good convenience claims.

Count. Return you thither?

1 Gent. Ay, Madam, with the swifteft wing of speed. Hel. Till I have no wife, I have nothing in France. 'Tis bitter. [Reading:

Count. Find you that there?

Hel. Yes, Madam.

1 Gent. 'Tis but the boldness of his hand, haply, which his heart was not confenting to.

Count. Nothing in France until he have no wife? There's nothing here that is too good for him, But only the; and she deserves a Lord That twenty fuch rude boys might tend upon, And call her hourly Miftrefs. Who was with him? 1 Gent. A fervant only, and a gentleman Which I have fometime known.

Count. Parolles, was't not?

1 Gent. Ay, my good Lady, he.

Count. A very tainted fellow, and full of wickedness: My fon corrupts a well-derived nature

With his inducement.

1 Gent. Indeed, good Lady, the fellow has a deal of that too much, which holds him much to have.

Count. Y'are welcome, Gentlemen; I will intreat you, when you fee my fon, to tell him, that his fword can never win the honour that he lofes : more I'll intreat you written to bear along.

1 Gent. We ferve you, Madam, in that and all your worthieft affairs.

Count. Not fo, but as we change our courtefies. Will you draw near? [Exeunt Countess and Gent.

Hel. Till I have no wife, I have nothing in France. Nothing in France, until he has no wife! Thou fhalt have none, Roufillon, none in France; Then haft thou all again. Poor Lord! is't I.

That

That chafe thee from thy country, and expofe
Those tender limbs of thine to the event
Of the none-fparing war? and is it I

That drive thee from the sportive court, where thou
Waft fhot at with fair eyes, to be the mark
Of fmoaky mufkets? O you leaden meffengers,
That ride upon the violent speed of fire,
Fly with falfe aim; pierce the ftill-moving air,
That fings with piercing, do not touch my Lord,
Whoever fhoots at him, I fet him there :
Whoever charges on his forward breast,
I am the caitiff that do hold him to it;
And though I kill him not, I am the cause
His death was fo effected. Better 'twere
I met the rav'ning lion when he roar'd

With fharp conftraint of hunger; better 'twere
That all the miferies which nature owes,

Were mine at once. No, come thou home, Roufillon:

Whence honour but of danger wins a fcar;

As oft it lofes all, I will be gone:

My being here it is that holds thee hence.
Shall I ftay here to do't? No, no, although
The air of paradife did fan the house,
And angel's office'd all: I will be gone;
That pitiful rumour my report my flight,

To confolate thine ear. Come, night! end, day!
For with the dark, poor thief, I'll steal away. Exit.

Changes to the Duke's court in Florence.

Flourish. Enter the Duke of Florence, Bertram, drum and Trumpets, Soldiers, Parolles.

Duke. The General of our Horfe thou art, and we, Great in our hope, lay our beft love and credence Upon thy promifing fortune.

Ber. Sir, it is

A charge too heavy for my ftrength; but yet
We'll ftrive to bear it for your worthy fake,
To th' extreme edge of hazard.

Duke. Then go forth,

F 2

And

Great Mars, I put myself into thy file ;

Make me but like my thoughts, and I fhall prove
A lover of thy drum; hater of love.

f

[Exeunt.

SCENE VI. Changes to Roufillon in France.

Enter Countefs and Steward.

Count. Alas! and would you take the letter of her? Might you not know, fhe would do, as he has done, By fending me a letter? Read it again.....

LET TE R.

1

I am St. Jaques' pilgrim, thither gone :
Ambitious love hath fo in me offended,
That bare-foot plod, I the cold ground upon,
With fainted vow my faults to have amended.
Write, write, that from the bloody courfe of war
My dearest mafter, your dear fon, may hie;
Blefs him at home in peace, whilst I from far
His name with zealous fervour fanctify.
His taken labours bid him me forgive;
I, his defpiteful Juno, fent him forth
From courtly friends, with camping foes 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 fet him free.

Ah, what sharp ftings are in her mildest words!
Rynaldo, you did never lack advice fo much,
As letting her pafs fo; had I fpoke with her,
I could have well diverted her intents,
Which thus fhe hath prevented.

Stew. Pardon, Madam,

If I had given you this at over-night,

She might have been o'er-ta'en; and yet fhe writes, Purfait would be but vain.

Count. What angel fhall

Blefs this unworthy hufband? he cannot thrive, Unless her prayers, whom heaven delights to hear,

And

And loves to grant, reprieve him from the wrath
Of greatest juftice. Write, write, Rynaldo,
To this unworthy hufband of his wife;

Let every word weigh heavy of her worth,

That he does weigh too light: my greatest grief, »M
Though little he do feel it, fet down fharply.
Dispatch the most convenient meffenger;
When, haply, he fhall hear that the is gone,
He will return, and hope I may, that he,
Hearing fo much, will fpeed her foot again,
Led hither by pure love. Which of them both.
Is dearest to me, I've no fkill in fenfe

To make distinction; provide this meffenger;
My heart is heavy, and mine age is weak;

Grief would have tears, and forrow bids me speak.

SCENE

VII.

Changes to a public place in Florence.

A tucket afar off..

[Exeunt

Enter an old widow of Florence, Diana, Violenta, and Mariana, with other citizens.

Wid. Nay, come. For if they do approach the city we fhall lofe all the fight.

Dia. They fay the French Count has done most honourable fervice.

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

Mar. Come, let's return, again, and fuffice 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 fo rich as honesty.

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

Mar. I know that knave, (hang him!) one Parolles; a filthy officer he is in thofe fuggeftions for the young Earl; beware of them, Diana; their promises. enticements,

enticements, oaths, tokens, and all thefe engines of luft, are the things they go under; many a maid hath been feduced by them; and the mifery is, example, that fo terrible fhews in the wreck of maidenhood, cannot for all that diffuade fucceffion, 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 modefty which is fo loft. Dia. You fhall not need to fear me.

Enter Helena, difguis'd like a pilgrim.

Wid. I hope fo

Look, here comes a pilgrim : I know he will lie at my house; thither they fend one another; I'll question her: God fave you, pilgrim! whither are you bound?

Hel. To St. Jaques le Grand. Where do the palmers lodge, I do beseech you?

Wid. At the St. Francis, befide 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
I will conduct you where you fhall be lodg'd;
The rather, for I think I know your hoftefs

As ample as myself.

Hel. Is it yourfelf?

Wid. If you fhall please fo, pilgrim.

[by,

Hel. I thank you, and will stay upon your leifure. Wid. You came, I think, from France.

Hel. I did fo.

Wid. Here you fhall fee a countryman of your's, That has done worthy fervice.

Hel. His name, I pray you?

Dia. The Count Roufillon: know you fuch a one ? Hel. But by the ear, that hears most nobly of him, His face I know not.

Dia. Whatfoe'er he is,

He's bravely taken here. He ftole from France,
As 'tis reported; for the king hath married him
Againft his liking. Think you it is fo?

Hel. Ay, furely, merely.truth; I know his lady.