Reynaldo, you did never lack advice so much
As letting her pass so. Had I spoke with her,
I could have well diverted her intents,
Which thus she hath prevented.
REYNALDO
Pardon me, madam.
If I had given you this at over-night
She might have been o’erta’en—and yet she writes
Pursuit would be but vain.
COUNTESS
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, Reynaldo,
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, set 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 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.
Exeunt
3.5 A tucket afar off. Enter an old Widow, her daughter Diana, and Mariana, with other Florentine citizens
WIDOW Nay, come, for if they do approach the city we shall lose all the sight.
DIANA They say the French Count has done most honourable service.
WIDOW It is reported that he has taken their greatest commander, and that with his own hand he slew the Duke’s brother. (Tucket) We have lost our labour; they are gone a contrary way. Hark. You may know by their trumpets.
MARIANA Come, let’s return again, and suffice ourselves with the report of it.—Wett, Diana, take heed of this French earl. The honour of a maid is her name, and no legacy is so rich as honesty.
WIDOW (to Diana) I have told my neighbour how you have been solicited by a gentleman, his companion.
MARIANA I know that knave, hang him! One Paroles. A filthy officer he is in those suggestions for the young earl. Beware of them, Diana; their promises, enticements, oaths, tokens, and all their 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 threatens 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.
DIANA You shall not need to fear me.
Enter Helen dressed as a pilgrim
WIDOW 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?
HELEN To Saint Jaques le Grand.
Where do the palmers lodge, I do beseech you?
WIDOW
At the ’Saint Francis’ here beside the port.
HELEN
Is this the way?
WIDOW
Ay, marry, is’t.
Sound of a march, far off
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 lodged,
The rather for I think I know your hostess
As ample as myself.
HELEN Is it yourself?
WIDOW If you shall please so, pilgrim.
HELEN
I thank you, and will stay upon your leisure.
WIDOW
You came, I think, from France?
HELEN
I did SO.
WIDOW
Here you shall see a countryman of yours
That has done worthy service.
HELEN His name, I pray you?
DIANA
The Count Roussillon. Know you such a one?
HELEN
But by the ear, that hears most nobly of him; 50
His face I know not.
DIANA
Whatsome’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?
HELEN
Ay, surely, mere the truth. I know his lady.
DIANA
There is a gentleman that serves the Count
Reports but coarsely of her.
HELEN
What’s his name?
DIANA A
Monsieur Paroles.
HELEN
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 examined.
DIANA
Alas, poor lady.
’Tis a hard bondage to become the wife
Of a detesting lord.
WIDOW
I warr’nt, good creature, wheresoe’er she is
Her heart weighs sadly. This young maid might do her
A shrewd turn if she pleased.
HELEN
How do you mean?
Maybe the amorous Count solicits her
In the unlawful purpose.
WIDOW
He does indeed,
And brokes with all that can in such a suit
Corrupt the tender honour of a maid.
But she is armed for him, and keeps her guard
In honestest defence.
MARIANA The gods forbid else.
⌈Enter, with drummer and colours, Bertram, Paroles, and the whole army⌉
WIDOW So, now they come.
That is Antonio, the Duke’s eldest son;
That, Escalus.
HELEN
Which is the Frenchman?
DIANA He—
That with the plume. ’Tis a most gallant fellow.
I would he loved his wife. If he were honester
He were much goodlier. Is’t not
A handsome gentleman?
HELEN I like him well.
DIANA ’Tis pity he is not honest.
Yond’s that same knave that leads him to those
places.
Were I his lady, I would poison
That vile rascal.
HELEN
Which is he?
DIANA
That jackanapes
With scarves. Why is he melancholy?
HELEN Perchance he’s hurt i’th’ battle.
PAROLES (aside) Lose our drum? Well. 90
MARIANA He’s shrewdly vexed at something.
Look, he has spied us.
WIDOW (to Paroles)
Marry, hang you!
MARIANA (to Paroles)
And your courtesy, for a ring-carrier.