SCENE II.[135]
Enter old Count, wrapped in furs; the Lady Honour, dressed like a bride; the Lord Proudly, Welltried, Bold, leading Feesimple like a lady masqued; Husband, Wife, Subtle, Widow; to them Brother, with a letter;[136] Seldom with his wife.
Bro. Health and all joy unto this fair assembly.
My brother, who last tide is gone for France,
A branch of willow feathering his hat,
Bad me salute you, lady, and present you
With this same letter written in his blood.
He prays no man, for his sake, evermore
To credit woman, nor no lady ever
To believe man; so either sex shall rest
Uninjur'd by the other. This is all,
And this I have deliver'd.
Proudly. Ay, and well.
You pronounce rarely, did you never play?
Bro. Yes, that I have—the fool, as some lords do.
Well. Set forward there.
Count. O, O, O! a pox o' this cold!
Well. A cold o' this pox, you might say, I am afraid.
Maid. How full of ghastly wounds this letter shows.
O, O!
[Swoons.