Ber. Sir, it is A charge too heavy for my ftrength; but yet Duke. Then go forth, And fortune play upon thy profp'rous helm, Ber. This very day, Great Mars, I put myself into thy file; Make me but like my thoughts, and I shall prove Count. [Exeunt. SCENE changes to Roufillon in France. A Enter Countess and Steward. Las! and would you take the letter of her? By fending me a letter? Read it again. LETTE R. I am St. Jaques' pilgrim, thither gone; 1, bis defpightful Juno, fent him forth Ah, what sharp ftings are in her mildest words? Ster. Stew. Pardon, Madam, If I had given you this at over-night She might have been o'er-ta'en; and yet fhe writes, Count. What angel fhall Blefs this unworthy husband? he cannot thrive, To make distinction; provide this messenger; A Tucket afar off. Enter an old Widow of Florence, Diana, Violenta, and Mariana, with other Citizens. Wid. AY, come. For if they do approach the city, we fhall lofe all the fight. NAY Dia. They fay, the French Count has done moft 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. C 3 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 honesty. Wid. I have told my neighbour, how you have been follicited by a gentleman his companion. Mar. I know that knave, (hang him!) one Parolles; a filthy officer he is in those fuggeftions for the young Earl; beware of them, Diana; their promifes, enticements, oaths, tokens, and all these engines of luft, are not the things they go under; many a maid hath been feduced by them; and the mifery is, example, that fo terrible fhews 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, tho' there were no further danger known, but the modefty which is fo loft. Dia. You fhall not need to fear me. Enter Helena, difguis'd like a Pilgrim. Wid. I hope fo.Look, here comes a pilgrim; I know, he will lye at my houfe; thither they fend one another; I'll queftion her: God fave you, pilgrim! whither are you bound? Hel. To St. Jaques le Grand. lodge, I do befeech you? Where do the palmers. Wid. At the St. Francis, 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 hoftefs As ample as myself. Hel. Is it yourself? Wid. If you fhall please fo, pilgrim.. Hel. I thank you, and will stay upon your leifure. Hel. I did fo. Wid. Here you fhall fee a countryman of yours, 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 ftole from France, Hel. Ay, furely, meer the truth; I know his lady. Dia. There is a gentleman, that serves the Count, Reports but courfely of her. Hel. What's his name? Dia. Monfieur Parolles. Hel. Oh, I believe with him, I have not heard examin'd. Dia. Alas, 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 follicits 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 the is arm'd for him, and keeps her guard In honefteft defence. Drum and Colours. Enter Bertram, Parolles, Officers and Soldiers attending. Mar. The Gods forbid elfe! Wid. So, now they come : C 4 That That is Antonio, the Duke's eldest fon; That, Efcalus. Hel. Which is the Frenchman? Dia. He; That with the plume; 'tis a moft gallant fellow; man ? Hel. I like him well. Dia. 'Tis pity, he is not honeft; yond's that fame knave, (19) That leads him to thefe paces; were I his lady, Hel. Which is he? Dia. That jack-an-apes with fcarfs, Why is he melancholy ! Hel. Perchance, he's hurt i'th' battel. Par. Lofe our drum! well. Mar. He's farewdly vex'd at something. Look, he has fpied us. Wid. Marry, hang you! [Exeunt Bertram, Parolles, &c. Mar. And your courtefie, for a ring-carrier! Wid. The troop is past: come, pilgrim, I will bring you, Where you shall hoft: Of injoyn'd penitents There's four or five, to great St. Jaques bound, Hel. I humbly thank you : Please it this matron, and this gentle maid To eat with us to night, the charge and thanking (19) Tond's That fame Fellow, That leads him to thefe Places.] What Places? He did not lead him to be General of Horfe under the Duke of Florence, fure. Nor have they been talking of Brothels; or, indeed, any particular Locality. I make no Question, but our Author wrote; That leads him to thefe Paces. i. c. to fuch irregular Steps, to Courses of Debauchery, to not loving his Wife, Shall |