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 knave,
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'th' battel.

Par.

Lose our drum! well.—

Mar.

He's shrewdly vex'd at something. Look, he has spied us.

Wid.

Marry, hang you!

Mar.
And your courtesie, for a ring-carrier!—

Wid.
The troop is past: come, pilgrim, I will bring you,
Where you shall host: Of injoyn'd penitents
There's four or five, to great St. 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.

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