At the S[aint]. Francis heere beside the Port
Hel. Is this the way?
A march afarre.
Wid. I marrie ist. Harke you, they come this way:
If you will tarrie holy Pilgrime
But till the troopes come by,
I will conduct you where you shall be lodg'd,
The rather for I thinke I know your hostesse
As ample as my selfe
Hel. Is it your selfe?
Wid. If you shall please so Pilgrime
Hel. I thanke you, and will stay vpon your leisure
Wid. You came I thinke from France?
Hel. I did so
Wid. Heere you shall see a Countriman of yours
That has done worthy seruice
Hel. His name I pray you?
Dia. The Count Rossillion: know you such a one?
Hel. But by the eare that heares most nobly of him:
His face I know not
Dia. What somere he is
He's brauely taken heere. He stole from France
As 'tis reported: for the King had married him
Against his liking. Thinke you it is so?
Hel. I surely meere the truth, I know his Lady
Dia. There is a Gentleman that serues the Count,
Reports but coursely of her
Hel. What's his name?
Dia. Monsieur Parrolles
Hel. Oh I beleeue with him,
In argument of praise, or to the worth
Of the great Count himselfe, she is too meane
To haue her name repeated, all her deseruing
Is a reserued honestie, and that
I haue not heard examin'd
Dian.
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