Excerpt: ...miseries which nature owes Were mine at once. No; come thou home, Rousillon, Whence honour but of danger wins a scar, As oft it loses all. I will be gone: My being here it is that holds thee hence: Shall I stay here to do't? no, no, although The air of paradise did fan the house, And angels offic'd all: I will be gone, That pitiful rumour may report my flight To consolate thine ear. Come, night; end, day! For with the dark, poor thief, I'll steal away. Exit. SCENE 3. Florence. Before the DUKE's palace. Flourish. Enter the DUKE OF FLORENCE, BERTRAM, PAROLLES, Lords, Soldiers, and others. DUKE. The general of our horse thou art; and we, Great in our hope, lay our best love and credence Upon thy promising fortune. BERTRAM. Sir, it is A charge too heavy for my strength; but yet We'll strive to bear it, for your worthy sake To the extreme edge of hazard. DUKE. Then go thou forth; And fortune play upon thy prosperous helm, As thy auspicious mistress! BERTRAM. This very day, Great Mars, I put myself into thy file; Make me but like my thoughts, and I shall prove A lover of thy drum, hater of love. Exeunt. SCENE 4. Rousillon. A room in the COUNTESS'S palace. Enter COUNTESS and Steward. COUNTESS. Alas! and would you take the letter of her? Might you not know she would do as she has done, By sending me a letter? Read it again. STEWARD. Reads. 'I am Saint Jaques' pilgrim, thither gone: Ambitious love hath so in me offended That barefoot plod I the cold ground upon, With sainted vow my faults to have amended. Write, write, that from the bloody course of war My dearest master, your dear son, may hie: Bless him at home in peace, whilst I from far His name with zealous fervour sanctify: His taken labours bid him me forgive; I, his despiteful Juno, sent him forth From courtly friends, with camping foes to live, Where death and danger dog the heels of worth: He is too good and fair for death and me; Whom I myself embrace to set him free.'...