Chapter 58

_Count._ 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. _Stew._ [_Reads_] I am Saint Jaques' pilgrim, thither gone: Ambitious love hath so in me offended, 5 That bare-foot 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…