Hel. Ay, madam. 1 Gen. Tis but the boldness of his hand, haply, which His heart was not consenting to. Count. Nothing in France, until he have no wife! That twenty such rude boys might tend upon, Count. Parolles, was't not? 1 Gen. Ay, my good lady, he. Count. A very tainted fellow, and full of wickedness. My son corrupts a well derived nature With his inducement. 1 Gen. Indeed, good lady, The fellow has a deal of that, too much, Count. You are welcome, gentlemen; The honour that he loses: more I'll entreat you 2 Gen. We serve you, madam, In that and all your worthiest affairs. Count. Not so, but as we change our courtesies. Will you draw near? [Exeunt Countess and Gentlemen. Hel. Till I have no wife, I have nothing in France. Nothing in France, until he has no wife! Thou shalt have none, Rousillon, none in France, Then hast thou all again. Poor lord, is't I, Of the none-sparing war? and is it I, That drive thee from the sportive court, where thou I met the ravin lion when he roar'd With sharp constraint of hunger; better 'twere Were mine at once: No, come thou home, Rousillon, As oft it loses all; I will be gone : My being here it is, that holds thee hence: That pitiful rumour may report my flight, To consolate thine ear. Come, night; end, day! For, with the dark, poor thief, I'll steal away. [Exit. SCENE III.-Florence. Before the Duke's Palace. Flourish. Enter the Duke of Florence, BERTRAM, Lords, Officers, Soldiers, and others. Duke. The 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 Duke. Then go thou forth; And fortune play upon thy prosperous helm, 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. SCENE IV.-Rousillon. A Room in the Countess's Palace. Enter Countess and Steward. Count. Alas! 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. Stew. I am Saint Jaques' pilgrim, thither gone ; That bare-foot plod I the cold ground upon, I, his despiteful Juno, sent him forth From courtly friends, with camping foes to live, Count. Ah, what sharp stings are in her mildest words! Rinaldo, you did never lack advice so much, Stew. Pardon me, madam: If I had given you this at over-night, She might have been o'erta'en; and yet she writes, Pursuit would be in vain. Count. What angel shall Bless this unworthy husband? he cannot thrive, Despatch the most convenient messenger :- [Exeunt. SCENE V. Without the Walls of Florence. A tucket afar off. Enter an old Widow of Florence, DIANA, VIOLENTA, MARIANA, and other Citizens. Wid. Nay, 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 taken their greatest commander: and that with his own hand he slew the duke's brother. We have lost our labour; they are gone a contrary way: hark! you may know by their trumpets. 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: |