COUNTESS. What is the -matter?
CLOWN. Nay, there is some comfort in the news, some comfort; your
son will not be kill'd so soon as I thought he would.
COUNTESS. Why should he be kill'd?
CLOWN. 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
Enter HELENA and the two FRENCH GENTLEMEN
SECOND GENTLEMAN. Save you, good madam.
HELENA. Madam, my lord is gone, for ever gone.
FIRST GENTLEMAN. Do not say so.
COUNTESS. Think upon
patience. Pray you, gentlemen-
I have felt so many quirks of joy and grief
That the first face of neither, on the start,
Can woman me unto 't. Where is my son, I pray you?
FIRST GENTLEMAN. Madam, he's gone to serve the Duke of Florence.
We met him
hither" target="_blank" title="ad.到那里 a.那边的">
thitherward; for
thence we came,
And, after some
dispatch in hand at court,
T
hither we bend again.
HELENA. Look on this letter, madam; here's my passport.
[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.
COUNTESS. Brought you this letter, gentlemen?
FIRST GENTLEMAN. Ay, madam;
And for the contents' sake are sorry for our pains.
COUNTESS. I prithee, 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 he?
FIRST GENTLEMAN. Ay, madam.
COUNTESS. And to be a soldier?
FIRST GENTLEMAN. Such is his noble purpose; and, believe 't,
The Duke will lay upon him all the honour
That good
convenience claims.
COUNTESS. Return you
hither" target="_blank" title="ad.到那里 a.那边的">
thither?
SECOND GENTLEMAN. Ay, madam, with the swiftest wing of speed.
HELENA. [Reads] 'Till I have no wife, I have nothing in France.'
'Tis bitter.
COUNTESS. Find you that there?
HELENA. Ay, madam.
SECOND GENTLEMAN. 'Tis but the
boldness of his hand haply, which
his heart was not consenting to.
COUNTESS. 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?
SECOND GENTLEMAN. A servant only, and a gentleman
Which I have
sometime known.
COUNTESS. Parolles, was it not?
SECOND GENTLEMAN. Ay, my good lady, he.
COUNTESS. A very tainted fellow, and full of wickedness.
My son corrupts a well-derived nature
With his inducement.
SECOND GENTLEMAN. Indeed, good lady,
The fellow has a deal of that too much
Which holds him much to have.
COUNTESS. Y'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.
FIRST GENTLEMAN. We serve you, madam,
In that and all your worthiest affairs.
COUNTESS. Not so, but as we change our courtesies.
Will you draw near? Exeunt COUNTESS and GENTLEMEN
HELENA. 'Till I have no wife, I have nothing in France.'
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
That chase thee from thy country, and expose
Those tender limbs of thine to the event
Of the non-sparing war? And is it I
That drive thee from the sportive court, where thou
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't;
And though I kill him not, I am the cause
His death was so effected. Better 'twere
I met the ravin lion when he roar'd
With sharp constraint of
hunger; better 'twere
That all the miseries which nature owes
Were mine at once. No; come thou home, Rousillon,
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
ACT3|SC3
ACT III. SCENE 3.
Florence. Before the DUKE's palace
Flourish. Enter the DUKE OF FLORENCE, BERTRAM,
PAROLLES, SOLDIERS, drum and trumpets
DUKE. The General of our Horse thou art; and we,
Great in our hope, lay our best love and credence
Upon thy
promising fortune.
BERTRAM. Sir, it is
A
charge too heavy for my strength; but yet
We'll
strive to bear it for your
worthy sake
To th'
extreme edge of hazard.
DUKE. Then go thou forth;
And Fortune play upon thy
prosperous helm,
As thy auspicious
mistress!
BERTRAM. This very day,
Great Mars, I put myself into thy file;
Make me but like my thoughts, and I shall prove
A lover of thy drum, hater of love. Exeunt
ACT3|SC4
ACT III. SCENE 4.
Rousillon. The COUNT'S palace
Enter COUNTESS and STEWARD
COUNTESS. 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.
STEWARD. [Reads] 'I am Saint Jaques'
pilgrim,
hither" target="_blank" title="ad.到那里 a.那边的">
thither gone.
Ambitious love hath so in me offended
That
barefoot 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 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;
I, his despiteful Juno, sent him forth
From courtly friends, with camping foes to live,
Where death and danger dogs the heels of worth.
He is too good and fair for death and me;
Whom I myself
embrace to set him free.'
COUNTESS. 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,
I could have well diverted her intents,
Which thus she hath prevented.
STEWARD. 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.
COUNTESS. What angel shall
Bless this un
worthy 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 un
worthy 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
ACT3|SC5
ACT III. SCENE 5.
Without the walls of Florence
A tucket afar off. Enter an old WIDOW OF FLORENCE,
her daughter DIANA, VIOLENTA, and MARIANA,
with other 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 great'st 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. Well, Diana, take heed of this French earl; the
honour of a maid is her name, and no
legacy is so rich as
honesty.
WIDOW. I have told my neighbour how you have been solicited by a
gentleman his companion.
MARIANA. 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
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 HELENA in the dress of a
pilgrimWIDOW. I hope so. Look, here comes a
pilgrim. I know she will lie