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am

That sings with piercing, do not touch my lord !
Whoever shoots at him, I set him there;
Whoever charges on his forward breast,
I the caitiff, that do hold him to it;
And, though I kill him not, I am the cause
His death was so effected: better 'twere,
I niet the ravin * lion when he roar'd
With sharp constraint of hunger; better 'twere
That all the miseries, which nature owes,
Were mine at once : No, come thou home, Rou-

síllon,
Whence honour but of danger wins a scar,
As oft it loses all; I will be gone :
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, 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
We'll strive to bear it for your worthy sake.
To the extreme edge of hazard.

4 Ravenous.

Duke.

Then

go

thou forth; And fortune play upon thy prosperous 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.

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:

Ambitious love hath so 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 dearest master, your

dear Bless him at home in peace, whilst I from far,

His name with zealous fervour sanctify: His taken labours bid him me forgive;

1, his despiteful Juno", sent 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 set him free.

son may

hie;

Count. Ah, what sharp stings are in her mildest

words !

s Alluding to the story of Hercules.

Rinaldo, you did never lack advice so much,
As letting her pass so; had I spoke with her,
I could have well diverted her intents,
Which thus she hath prevented.
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,
Unless her prayers, whom heaven delights to hear,
And loves to grant, reprieve him from the wrath
Of greatest justice.-- Write, write, Rinaldo,
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 he do 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 have no skill in sense
To make distinction:- Provide this messenger
My heart is heavy, and mine age is weak;
Grief would have tears, and sorrow bids me speak.

[E.ceunt.

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SCENE V.

Without the Walls of Florence.

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A tucket afar off. Enter an old Widow of Flo

rence, DIANA, VIOLENTA, MARIANA, and other Citizens.

Wid. Nay, come; for if they do approach the city, we shall lose all the sight.

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6 Discretion or thought.

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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, lets 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; bang 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 are not the things they go unders: many a maid hath been seduced 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
known, but the modesty which is so lost.
Dia. You shall not need to fear me.

Enter HELENA, in the dress of a Pilgrim.
Wid. I hope so.

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 palmerso lodge, I do beseech you?

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7 Temptations.

& Not what their names express. 9 Pilgrims; so called from a staff or bough of palm they were wont to carry.

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

Ay, marry, is it. ---Hark you!

[ A march afar off They come this way: If you will tarry, holy pil

grim,
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 so, pilgrim.
Hel. I thank you, and will stay upon your leisure.
Wid. You came, I think, from France ?
Hel.

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

His name, I pray you.
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, mere the 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.

0, 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

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I Because.

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