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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, mere the truth; I know his lady.
Dia. There is a gentleman, that serves the count,

Reports but coarsely of her.

Hel.

Dia. Monsieur Parolles.
Hel.

What's his name?

O, I believe with him,

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 examin'd.

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 pleas'd.

Hel

How do you mean?

May be, the amorous count solicits her

In the unlawful

Wid.

purpose.

He does, indeed;

And brokes 42 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 drum and colours, a party of the Florentine army, BERTRAM, and PAROLLES.

Mar.

The gods forbid else!

Wid. So, now they come :

That is Antonio, the duke's eldest son;

That, Escalus.

Hel.

Dia.

Which is the Frenchman?

He;

That with the plume: 'tis a most gallant fellow;
I would, he lov'd his wife; if he were honester,
He were much goodlier :-Is't not a handsome gen-
tleman ?

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.

..Hel.

Which is he?

Dia. That jack-an-apes with scarfs: Why is he melancholy?

Hel. Perchance he's hurt i'the battle.

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Par. Lose our drum! well.

Mar. He's shrewdly vex'd at something: Look,

he has spied us.

Wid. Marry, hang you!

Mar. And your courtesy, for a ring-carrier!

[Exeunt Bertram, Parolles, Officers, and Soldiers. Wid. The troop is past: Come, pilgrim, I will bring you

Where you shall host: of enjoin'd penitents
There's four or five, to great Saint Jaques bound,
Already at my house.

Hel.

I humbly thank you:
Please it this matron, and this gentle maid,

To eat with us to-night, the charge, and thanking,
Shall be for me; and, to requite you further,

I will bestow some precepts on this virgin,
Worthy the note.

Both.

We'll take your offer kindly.

[Exeunt.

SCENE VI.

Camp before Florence.

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 lordship find him not a hilding, hold me no more in your respect.

1 Lord. On my life, my lord, a bubble.

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