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Roufillon in France.

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 St. Jaques" pilgrim, thither gone ;

Ambitious love bath ro 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 dearest master, your dear fon may bye ; Bless him at home in peace, whilf I from far,

His name with zealous fervour fanétify: His taken labours bid bim me forgive ;

I, bis despightful- 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 set him free.
Ah, what sharp stings are in her mildest words !
Rinaldo, you did never lack ? advice so much,
As letting her pass fo; 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'er-ta'en ; and yet she writes,


P advice]-discretion.



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Pursuit would be but 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, fet down sharply.
Dispatch 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, 9 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.


S CE N E v.
Without the walls of Florence.

A tucket afar off. Enter an old Widow of Florence, Diana, and Mariana, with

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

Dia. They say, the French count has done most honourable service.

? I bave no fill in sense to make diftin&tion :]—I am unable to determine.


Wid. It is reported that he has ta'en their greatest com. mander ; and chat with his own hand he New 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 the 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 not the things they go under : many a maid hath been seduced by them; and the misery is, example, that so terrible shews in the wreck of maidenhood, cannot for all that diffuade 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, disguised like a pilgrim. Wid. I hope fo. — Look, here comes a pilgrim : 1 know she will lye at my house: thither they tend one ano. ther: I'll question her. God save you, pilgrim! Whither are you bound?


' in those suggestions ]-plots that he lays ; in intriguing. s are not the things they go under :)--what their names bespeak them. “Not of that dye which their investments thew.”

HAMLET, Act I, S. 3. Pol. modefty which is loft. ]-character, which is carnish'd, though the attempt thould fail.

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Hel. To St. Jaques le grand.
Where do the palmers lodge, I do beseech you?

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

[A march afar off.
Wid. Ay, marry is it. Hark you!
They come this way :- If you will tarry, holy pilgrim,
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 fo.
'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, meer 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. Oh, I believe with him,
In argument of praise, or to the worth
Of the great count himself, she is too mean

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To have her name repeated; all her deserving .
Is a referved honesty, and that
I have not heard * examined.

Dia. Alas, poor lady!
'Tis a hard bondage, to become the wife
Of a deresting 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 pleas’d. · Hel. How do you mean? May be, the amorous count solicits her In the unlawful purpose.

Wid. He does, indeed; And Y brokes with all that can in such a suit Corrupt the tender honour of a maid : But she is arm’d for him, and keeps her guard In honestest defence. Enter with drums and colours, Bertram, Parolles, Officers

and Soldiers attending. Mar. The gods forbid else!

Wid. So, now they come:- .
That is Antonio, the duke's eldest son;
That, Escalus.

Hel. Which is the Frenchman ?

Dia. He; That with the plume: 'cis a most gallant fellow; I would, he lov'd his wife: if he were honefter, He were much goodlier:--Is't not a handsome gentleman ?

Hel. I like him well.

Dia. 'Tis pity, he is not honest: Yond's that same knave, That leads him to these places; were I his lady, I'd poison that vile rascal.

* examined.]~call'd in queftion.

y brokes)--tampers.

obesitamperse Hel.

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