Count. Think upon patience.-'Pray you, gentle men, I have felt so many quirks of joy, and grief, Can woman* me unto't:-Where is my son, I pray 2 Gen. Madam, he's gone to serve the duke of We met him thitherward; from thence we came, Thither we bend again. Hel. Look on his letter, madam; here's my pass port. [Reads.] When thou canst get the ring upon my fingert, which never shall come off, and show me a child begotten of thy body, that I am futher 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. And, for the contents' sake, are sorry for our pains. Ay, madam; Count. I pr'ythee, lady, have a better cheer; If thou eugrossest 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 he? 2 Gent. Ay, madam. Count. And to be a soldier? 2 Gen. Such is his noble purpose: and, believe't, The duke will lay upon him all the honour That good convenience claims. Count. Return you thither? 1 Gen. Ay, madam, with the swiftest wing of speed. i. e. Affect me suddenly and deeply, as our sex are usually affected. ti. e. When you can get the ring, which is on my finger, into your possession. If thou keepest all thy sorrows to thyself. VOL. III. D Hel. [Reads.] Till I have no wife, I have nothing in France. 'Tis bitter. Count.. Hel. Find you that there? Ay, madam. 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 some time known. Count. Parolles, was't not? 1 Gen. Ay, my good lady, he. Count. A very tainted fellow, and full of wicked ness. My son corrupts a well-derived nature With his inducement, Indeed, good lady,. 1 Gen. Count. You are welcome, gentlemen. 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. In reply to the gentlemen's declaration, that they are her servants, the countess answers-no otherwise than as she returns the same offices of ci vility. Hel. Till I have no wife, I have nothing in France. Nothing in France, until he has no wife! Thou shalt have none, Rousillon, noue in France, Of the none-sparing war? and is it I expose That drive thee from the sportive court, where thou With sharp constraint of hunger; better 'twere Were mine at once: no, come thou home, Rousillon, My being here it is, that holds thee hence: To consolate thine ear. Come, night; end, day! Ravenous. [Exit. SCENE III. Florence. Before the Duke's Palace. Flourish. Enter the Duke of Florence, Bertram, Lords, Officers, Soldiers, and others. Duke. The general of our horse thou art; and we, Great in our hope, lay our best love and credence, Upon thy promising fortune. Ber. Sir, it is Duke. thou forth; Then go And fortune play upon thy prosperous helm, As thy auspicious mistress! Ber. This very day, Great Mars, I put myself into thy file: Make me but like my thoughts; and I shall prove [Exeunt. SCENE IV. Rousillon. A room in the Countess's Palace. 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 Saint Jaques' pilgrim, thither gone; I, his despiteful Juno*, sent him forth Count. Ah, what sharp stings are in her mildest words! Rinaldo, you did never lack advicet so much, Which thus she hath prevented. Stew. 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 in vain. Count. What angels 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 weight 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, Alluding to the story of Hercules. ↑ Discretion or thought. Weigh, here means to value or esteem. |