ACT III.
SCENE 5. Without the walls of Florence.
(continued)
HELENA.
Is this the way?
WIDOW.
Ay, marry, is't. Hark you! They come this way.
[A march afar off.]
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.
HELENA.
Is it yourself?
WIDOW.
If you shall please so, pilgrim.
HELENA.
I thank you, and will stay upon your leisure.
WIDOW.
You came, I think, from France?
HELENA.
I did so.
WIDOW.
Here you shall see a countryman of yours
That has done worthy service.
HELENA.
His name, I pray you.
DIANA.
The Count Rousillon: know you such a one?
HELENA.
But by the ear, that hears most nobly of him:
His face I know not.
DIANA.
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?
HELENA.
Ay, surely, mere the truth; I know his lady.
DIANA.
There is a gentleman that serves the count
Reports but coarsely of her.
HELENA.
What's his name?
DIANA.
Monsieur Parolles.
HELENA.
O, 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 examin'd.
DIANA.
Alas, poor lady!
'Tis a hard bondage to become the wife
Of a detesting lord.
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