He does, indeed;
And brokes 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.
The gods forbid else!
WIDOW. So, now they come: —
[Enter, with a drum and colours, a party of the Florentine army,
BERTRAM, and PAROLLES.]
That is Antonio, the Duke's eldest son;
Which is the Frenchman?
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?
I like him well.
'Tis pity he is not honest? yond's that same knave
That leads him to these places; were I his lady
I would poison that vile rascal.
Which is he?
That jack-an-apes with scarfs. Why is he melancholy?
Perchance he's hurt i' the battle.
Lose our drum! well.
He's shrewdly vex'd at something.
Look, he has spied us.
Marry, hang you!
And your courtesy, for a ring-carrier!
[Exeunt BERTRAM, PAROLLES, Officers, and Soldiers.]
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.
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 of this virgin,
Worthy the note.
We'll take your offer kindly.