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 angels offic'd all: I will be gone;
That pitiful rumour may report my flight

To confolate thine ear. Come, night; end, day!

For, with the dark, poor thief, I'll steal away.

[Exit.

SCENE V.

Florence.

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

Duke.

T

HE general of our horse thou art; and we,

Great in our hope, lay our beft love and credence

Upon thy promising fortune.

Ber. Sir, it is

A charge too heavy for my strength; but yet

We'll ftrive to bear it for your worthy fake,

To th' extreme edge of hazard.

Duke. Then go forth,

And fortune play upon thy profp'rous helm,

As thy aufpicious mistress!

Ber. This very day,

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.

[Exeunt.

VOL. II.

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SCENE

Count.

·A

SCENE VI.

Roufillon in France.

Enter Countess, and Steward.

LAS! and would you take the letter of her?

Might you not know, fhe would do as she has done,

By sending me a letter? Read it again.

Letter.

I am faint Jaques' pilgrim, thither gone;
Ambitious love bath fo in me offended,
That barefoot plod I the cold ground upon,
With fainted vow my faults to have amended.
Write, write, that, from the bloody course 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, bis 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 mildeft words!
Rynaldo, you ne'er lack'd advice fo much,
As letting her pass 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 overnight

She might have been o'erta'en; and yet fhe writes,
Purfuit would be but vain.

Count.

Count. What angel fhall

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, fet down sharply.
Despatch the most convenient meffenger:
When, haply, he shall hear that fhe is gone,
He will return; and hope I may, that she,
Hearing fo much, will speed her foot again,
Led hither by pure love. Which of them both
Is dearest to me, I've no fkill in fenfe
To make diftinction. Provide this meffenger:
My heart is heavy, and mine age is weak,

Grief would have tears, but forrow bids me speak.

[Exeunt.

SCENE VII.

Florence.

A Tucket afar off.

Enter an old Widow of Florence, Diana, Violenta, and Mariana,

Wid.

N

with other Citizens.

AY, 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 greatest 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.

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Mar.

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 honefty.

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 thofe fuggeftions for the young earl: beware of them, Diana; their promises, enticements, oaths, tokens, and all thefe engines of luft, are but the things they go under; many a maid hath been feduced by them, and the mifery is, example, that fo terrible fhows 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 modesty which is so lost. Dia. You fhall not need to fear me.

Enter Helena disguised like a Pilgrim.

Wid. I hope fo. Look, here comes a pilgrim : I know, fhe will lie at my house; thither they send one another; I'll question her: god fave you, pilgrim! whither are you bound?

Hel. To faint Jaques le grand. Where do the palmers lodge, I do befeech you

Wid. At the faint Francis here 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 by,

I will conduct you where you fhall be lodg'd;

The rather, for, I think, I know your hostess

As ample as myself.

Hel. Is it yourfelf?

Wid. If you fhall 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.

of yours,

Wid. Here you shall see a countryman

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 stole from France,
As 'tis reported; for the king had married him
Against his liking: think you it is fo?

Hel. Ay, furely, 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. Monfieur Parolles.

Hel. O, I believe with him,

In argument of praise, or to the worth
Of the great count himself, fhe 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 detefting lord.

Wid. Ah! right; good creature! wherefoe'er fhe is, Her heart weighs fadly: this young maid might do her A fhrewd turn, if the 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 fuch a fuit

Corrupt the tender honour of a maid:

But she is arm'd for him, and keeps her guard
In honefteft defence.

SCENE