Count. What is the matter? Clo. Nay, there is some comfort in the news, some comfort; your son will not be killed so soon as I thought he would. Count. Why should he be killed? Clo. So say I, Madam, if he run away, as I hear he does: the danger is in standing to't; that's the loss of men, though it be the getting of children. Here they come, will tell you more: for my part, I only hear, your son was run away. [Exit CLOWN. Enter HELENA and two GENTLEMEN. 1 Gen. Save you, good Madam. Hel. Madam, my lord is gone, for ever gone. 2 Gen. Do not say so. Count. Think upon patience.-Pray you, gentlemen,I have felt so many quirks of joy, and grief, That the first face of neither, on the start, Can woman me unto't:-Where is my son, I pray you? Thither we bend again. Hel. Look on his letter, madam; here's my passport. [Reads.] When thou canst get the ring upon my finger, which never shall come off, and show me a child begotten of thy body, that I am father too, then call me husband: but in such a then Í write a never. This is a dreadful sentence. Count. Brought you this letter, gentlemen? 1 Gen. Ay, madam; And, for the contents' sake, are sorry for our pains. Count. I pr'ythee, lady, have a better cheer; If thou engrossest all the griefs are thine, Thou robb'st me of a moiety. He was my son; But I do wash his name out of my blood, And thou art all my child.-Towards Florence is he? 2 Gen. Ay, Madam. Count. And to be a soldier? 2 Gen. Such is his noble purpose; and, believe't, The duke will lay upon him all the honour That good convenience claims. Count. Return you thither? 1 Gen. Ay, Madam, with the swiftest wing of speed. Hel. [Reads.] Till I have no wife, I have nothing in France. 'Tis bitter. Count. Find you that there? 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! There's nothing here, that is too good for him, *(That are.) But only she; and she deserves a lord, 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. 1 Gen. Indeed, good lady, The fellow has a deal of that, too much, Count. You are welcome, gentlemen. I will entreat you, when you see my son, 2 Gen. We serve you, Madam, In that and all your worthiest affairs. Count. Not so, but as we changet 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, Of the none-sparing war? and is it I That drive thee from the sportive court, where the Fly with false aim; move the still-piercing air, I met 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, Rousillon As oft it loses all; I will be gone: My being here it is, that keeps thee hence: Shall I stay here to do't? no, no, although Too much vice, which yet stands him in stead. † Exchange. Ravenous. § Only from. That pitiful rumour may report my flight, [Exit. To consolate thine ear. Come, night; end, day! 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, 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 tay drum, hater of love. [Exeunt. SCENE IT-Rousillon. A Room in the COUNTESS's Palace. Enter COUNTESS and STEWARD. Count. Alas! and would you take the letter of her? Str, 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, Coun. An, wnat sharp stings are in her mildest words!- As letting her pass so; had I spoke with her, I could have well diverted her intents, Stew. Pardon me, Madam: If I had given you this at over-night, * Discretion. She might have been o'erta'en; and yet she writes, Count. What angel shall Bless this unworthy husband? he cannot thrive, Grief would have tears, and sorrow bids me speak. SCENE V-Without the Walls of Florence. [Exeunt. 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: 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 not the things they go under:† 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. * Temptations. VOL. II. D + (The names of.) 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 palmers lodge, I do beseech you ? Wid. Ay, marry, is it,-Hark you! [A march afar off. They come this way:-If you will tarry, holy pilgrim, But till the troops come by, I will conduct you where you shall be lodged; 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. 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, Hel. Ay, surely, mere the truth; † I know his lady. Hel. What's his name? Dia. Monsieur Parolles. 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 examined.+ Dia. Alas, poor lady! "Tis a hard bondage, to become the wife Of a detesting lord. Wid. A right good creature: wheresoe'er she is, Her heart weighs sadly: this young maid might do her A shrewd turn, if she pleased. Hel. How do you mean? May be, the amorous count solicits her In the unlawful purpose. * (That.) † The entire truth. * Questioned. |