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And Fortune play upon thy prosp'rous helm,
Ber. This very day,
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.
I am St Jaques' pilgrim, thither gone ;
Ambitious love hath fo in me offended, That bare-foot plod I the cold ground upon,
With sainted vow my faults to have amended. Write, write, that from the bloody course of war
My deareft master, your dear fon, may hie; Bless him at home in peace, whilft I from far
His name with zealous fervour sanctisy. His taken labours bid him me forgive;
1, his despiteful funo, sent him forth From courtly friends, with camping foes to live;
Where death and danger dog the heels of worth.
for death and me,
Stew. Pardon, Madam,
Count. What angel shall
And loves to grant, reprieve him from the wrath
A tucket afar off Enter an old Widow of Florence, Diana, Violenta, and
Mariana, with 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 ta’en 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 luft, are the things they go under; many a maid hath been seduced by them; and the misery is, example, that fo terrible News 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 found but the modesty which is so loft. Dia. You shall not need to fear me.
Enter Helena, disguis'd like a pilgrim. Wid. I hope fo-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 St Jaques le Grand. Where do the palmers lodge, I do beseech you?
Wid. At the St Francis, beside the port.
[ 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 shall be lodg’d; [by, The rather, for I think I know your
hostess As ample as myself.
Hel. Is it yourself?
Wid. Here you shall see a countryman of your's,
Hel. His name, I pray you?
such a one ? Hel. But by the ear, that hears moft nobly of him ; His face I know not.
Dia. Whatsoe'er he is,
Hel. Ay, surely, merely truth; I know his lady.
Dia. There is a gentleman that serves the count,
Hel. What's his name?
Hel. Oh, I believe with him,
Dia. Alas, poor lady!
Wid. Ah! right; good creature ! wheresoe’er she is Her heart weighs fadly; this young maid might do her A shrewd turn, if she pleas’d.
Hel. How do you mean?
Wid. He does indeed ;
S C Ε Ν Ε
Drum and Colours.
Enter Bertram, Parolles, Officers and Soldiers attending.
Mar. The Gods forbid else!
Wid. So now they come :
Hel. Which is the Frenchman ?
Dia. He; That with the plume; 'tis a moft gallant fellow; I would he lov'd his wife ! if he were honester, He were much goodlier. Is’t not a handsome gentle)
man? Hel. I like him well. Dia. 'Tis pity he is not honeft; yond's that fame
That leads him to these places ; were I his lady,
Hel. Which is he?
Dia. That jack-an-apes with scarfs. Why is he melancholy?
Hel. Perchance he's hurt i'th' battle.
Mar. He's shrewdly vex'd at something. Look, he hath spied us. Wid. Marry, hang you !
[Exeunt Bertram, Parolles, Gc. Mar. And your courtesy, for a ring-carrier !Wid. The troop is pass'd. Come, pilgrim, I will bring
There's four or five, to great St Jaques bound,
Hel. I humbly thank you :
Both. We'll take your offer kindly. [Exeunt,
Enter Bertram, and the two French Lords. 1 Lord. Nay, good my Lord, put him to't: let him have his way.
2 Lord. If your Lordthip find him not a hilding, hold me no more in your respect.
i Lord. On my life, my Lord, a bubble.
am so far deceiv'd in him ? i Lord. Believe it, my Lord, in mine own direct knowledge, without any malice, but to speak of him as my kinsman; he's a most notable coward, an infinite and endless lyar, an hourly promise-breaker, the owner of no one good quality worthy your Lordship's entertainment.
2 Lord. It were fit you knew him, left, reporing too far in his virtue, which he hath not, he might