_First Lord._ In the mean time, what hear you of these wars? _Sec. Lord._ I hear there is an overture of peace. _First Lord._ Nay, I assure you, a peace concluded. _Sec. Lord._ What will Count Rousillon do then? will 40 he travel higher, or return again into France? _First Lord._ I perceive, by this demand, you are not altogether of his council. _Sec. Lord._ Let it be forbid, sir; so should I be a great deal of his act. 45 _First Lord._ Sir, his wife some two months since fled from his house: her pretence is a pilgrimage to Saint Jaques le Grand; which holy undertaking with most austere sanctimony she accomplished; and, there residing, the tenderness of her nature became as a prey to her grief; in fine, made a 50 groan of her last breath, and now she sings in heaven. _Sec. Lord._ How is this justified? _First Lord._ The stronger part of it by her own letters, which makes her story true, even to the point of her death: her death itself, which could not be her office to say is come, 55 was faithfully confirmed by the rector of the place. _Sec. Lord._ Hath the count all this intelligence? _First Lord._ Ay, and the particular confirmations, point from point, to the full arming of the verity. _Sec. Lord._ I am heartily sorry that he'll be glad of this. 60 _First Lord._ How mightily sometimes we make us comforts of our losses! _Sec. Lord._ And how mightily some other times we drown our gain in tears! The great dignity that his valour hath here acquired for him shall at home be encountered 65 with a shame as ample. _First Lord._ The web of our life is of a mingled yarn, good and ill together: our virtues would be proud, if our faults whipped them not; and our crimes would despair, if they were not cherished by our virtues. 70 _Enter a_ Messenger. How now! where's your master? _Serv._ He met the Duke in the street, sir, of whom he hath taken a solemn leave: his lordship will next morning for France. The Duke hath offered him letters of commendations to the king. 75 _Sec. Lord._ They shall be no more than needful there, if they were more than they can commend. _First Lord._ They cannot be too sweet for the king's tartness. Here's his lordship now. _Enter_ BERTRAM. How now, my lord! is't not after midnight? 80