SCENE V.
Without the walls of Florence.
A tucket afar off.
Enter an old Widow of Florence, Diana, Violenta, and Mariana, with 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 ta'en 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.
-- 84 --
Wid.
I have told my neighbour, how you have
been solicited by a gentleman his companion.
Mar.
I know the 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, 2 note
are not the things they go under: many a maid
hath been seduced by them; and the misery is, example,
that so terrible shews 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 no further danger known, but the modesty
which is so lost.
Dia.
You shall not need to fear me.
Enter Helena, disguis'd like a pilgrim.
Wid.
I hope so.—Look, here comes a pilgrim:
I know she will lye at my house: thither they send
one another: I'll question her.—
God save you, pilgrim! Whither are you bound?
-- 85 --
Hel.
To St. Jaques le grand.
Where do the palmers3 note lodge, I do beseech you?
Wid.
At the St. Francis here, beside the port.
Hel.
Is this the way?
[A march afar off.
Wid.
Ay, marry, is it. 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 lodg'd;
The rather, for, I think, I know your hostess
As ample as myself.
Hel.
Is it yourself?
Wid.
If you shall please so, pilgrim.
Hel.
I thank you, and will stay upon your leisure.
Wid.
You came, I think, from France?
Hel.
I did so.
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, meer the truth; I know his lady.
Dia.
There is a gentleman, that serves the count,
Reports but coarsely of her.
-- 86 --
Hel.
What's his name?
Dia.
Monsieur Parolles.
Hel.
Oh, 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 examined4 note.
Dia.
Alas, poor lady!
'Tis a hard bondage, to become the wife
Of a detesting lord.
Wid.
A right good creature 9Q0409: wheresoe'er she is,
Her heart weighs sadly5 note
: 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 purpose.
Wid.
He does, indeed;
And brokes6 note 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.
-- 87 --
Enter with drum and colours, Bertram, Parolles, Officers and Soldiers attending.
Mar.
The gods forbid else!
Wid.
So, now they come:—
That is Antonio, the duke's eldest son;
That, Escalus.
Hel.
Which is the Frenchman?
Dia.
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 gentleman?
Hel.
I like him well.
Dia.
'Tis pity, he is not honest: Yond's that same knave7 note
,
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.
Par.
Lose our drum! well.
Mar.
He's shrewdly vex'd at something: Look,
he has spied us.
Wid.
Marry, hang you!
[Exeunt Bertram, Parolles, &c.
Mar.
And your courtesy, for a ring-carrier!
-- 88 --
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.
Samuel Johnson [1778], The plays of William Shakspeare. In ten volumes. With the corrections and illustrations of various commentators; to which are added notes by Samuel Johnson and George Steevens. The second edition, Revised and Augmented (Printed for C. Bathurst [and] W. Strahan [etc.], London) [word count] [S10901].
