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CLO. O madam, yonder is heavy news within, between two soldiers and my young lady.

COUNT. What is the matter?

CLO. Nay, there is some comfort in the news, some comfort; your son will not be killed so soon as I thought he would.

COUNT. Why should he be killed?

CLO. So say I, madam, if he run away, as I hear he does the danger is in standing to 't; that's the loss of men, though it be the getting of children. Here they come, will tell you more : for my part, I only hear your son was run away. [Exit Clown.

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That the first face of neither, on the start, Can woman me unto 't.-Where is my son, I pray you?

2 GEN. Madam, he 's gone to serve the duke
of Florence:

We met him thitherward: for thence we came,
And, after some despatch in hand at court,
Thither we bend again.

[passport. HEL. Look on his letter, madam; here's my [Reads.] When thou canst get the ring upon my finger which never shall come off, and show me a child begotten of thy body, that I am father to, then call me husband: but in such a then I write a never.

This is a dreadful sentence.

COUNT. Brought you this letter, gentlemen? 1 GEN. Ay, madam; And, for the contents' sake, are sorry for our pains.

COUNT. I pr'ythee, lady, have a better cheer; If thou engrossest all the griefs are thine, Thou robb'st me of a moiety: he was my son; But I do wash his name out of my blood, And thou art all my child.-Towards Florence is 2 GEN. Ay, madam.

COUNT.

And to be a soldier?

[he?

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1 GEN. 'Tis but the boldness of his hand, haply, which his heart was not consenting to. COUNT. Nothing in France, until he have no wife!

There's nothing here, that is too good for him,
But only she; and she deserves a lord,
That twenty such rude boys might tend upon,
And call her hourly, mistress. Who was with
him?

1 GEN. A servant only, and a gentleman Which I have sometime known.

COUNT.

Parolles, was it not? 1 GEN. Ay, my good lady, he. [wickedness. COUNT. A very tainted fellow, and full of My son corrupts a well-derived nature With his inducement.

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The fellow has a deal of that, too much,

a The ruff,-] The top of the boot which turned over, and was sometimes ornamented with lace, was called the ruff.

Which holds him much to have."

COUNT. You are welcome, gentlemen.

I will entreat you, when you see my son,
To tell him, that his sword can never win
The honour that he loses : more I'll entreat you
Written to bear along.

2 GEN.

We serve you, madam, In that and all your worthiest affairs. COUNT. Not so, but as we change our courtesies. Will you draw near?

[Exeunt COUNTESS and Gentlemen. HEL. Till I have no wife, I have nothing in France.

[thou

Nothing in France, until he has no wife!
Thou shalt have none, Rousillon, none in France,
Then hast thou all again. Poor lord! is 't I
That chase thee from thy country, and expose
Those tender limbs of thine to the event
Of the none-sparing war? and is it I
That drive thee from the sportive court, where
Wast shot at with fair eyes, to be the mark
Of smoky muskets? O you leaden messengers,
That ride upon the violent speed of fire,
Fly with false aim; move the still-piecing air,"
That sings with piercing, do not touch my
lord!
Whoever shoots at him, I set him there;
Whoever charges on his forward breast,
I am the caitiff, that do hold him to it;
And, though I kill him not, I am the cause
His death was so effected. Better 't were
I met the ravin lion when he roar'd
With sharp constraint of hunger; better 't were
That all the miseries, which nature owes, [sillon,
Were mine at once. No, come thou home, Rou-
Whence honour but of danger wins a scar,
As oft it loses all; I will be gone:
My being here it is, that holds thee hence:
Shall I stay here to do't? no, no, although
The air of paradise did fan the house,
And angels offic'd all: I will be gone,
That pitiful rumour may report my flight,
To consolate thine ear. Come, night; end, day!
For, with the dark, poor thief, I'll steal away. [Exit.

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STEW. [Reads.]

I am St. Jaques' pilgrim, thither gone :
Ambitious love hath so in me offended,
That bare-foot plcd 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 son, may hie;
Bless him at home in peace, whilst I from far,
His name with zealous fervour sanctify:
His taken labours bid him me forgive;

1, his despiteful Juno, sent 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.

COUNT. Ah, what sharp stings are in her
mildest words!-

Rinaldo, you did never lack advice so much,
As letting her pass so; had I spoke with her,
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,
Pursuit would be but vain.
COUNT.

What angel shall

whitt thought a farther alteration necessary, and would have substituted rove for move:

-"rove the still-piecing air;"

but there is authority for more, in the sense of penetrate, or wound. "High preasse thy flames, the chrystall aire to move."

A Sonnet by WILLIAM LITHGOW, 1615.

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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, set down sharply.
Despatch 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.

SCENE V. Without the Walls of Florence. A tucket afar off. Enter an old Widow of Florence, DIANA, VIOLENTA, MARIANA, and 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 taken 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 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 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

a Are not the things they go under :] "They are not the things for which their names would make them pass."-JOHNSON.

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a Mere the truth;] Quite the truth.

b Honesty,-] That is, chastity.

e I write good creature;] So the first folio, but which the editor of the second, not perhaps understanding, altered to,-"I right, good creature." The phrase to write, in the sense of to proclaim, &c. was not at all uncommon formerly. It occurs, indeed, three or four times in Shakespeare: thus, in the present play, Act II. Sc. 3, Lafeu says,

"Sirrah, I write man," &c.

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