d after a successful war, in
which he distinguished himself by many brave actions, Bertram received
letters from his mother, containing the acceptable tidings that Helena
would no more disturb him; and he was preparing to return home, when
Helena herself, clad in her pilgrim's weeds, arrived at the city of
Florence.

Florence was a city through which the pilgrims used to pass on their
way to St. Jaques le Grand; and when Helena arrived at this city, she
heard that a hospitable widow dwelt there, who used to receive into
her house the female pilgrims that were going to visit the shrine
of that saint, giving them lodging and kind entertainment. To this
good lady therefore Helena went, and the widow gave her a courteous
welcome, and invited her to see whatever was curious in that famous
city, and told her that if she would like to see the duke's army,
she would take her where she might have a full view of it. "And you
will see a countryman of yours," said the widow; "his name is count
Rossilion, who has done worthy service in the duke's wars." Helena
wanted no second invitation, when she found Bertram was to make part
of the show. She accompanied her hostess; and a sad and mournful
pleasure it was to her to look once more upon her dear husband's face.
"Is he not a handsome man?" said the widow. "I like him well," replied
Helena, with great truth. All the way they walked, the talkative
widow's discourse was all of Bertram: she told Helena the story of
Bertram's marriage, and how he had deserted the poor lady his wife,
and entered into the duke's army to avoid living with her. To this
account of her own misfortunes Helena patiently listened, and when it
was ended, the history of Bertram was not yet done, for then the widow
began another tale, every word of which sunk deep into the mind of
Helena; for the story she now told was of Bertram's love for her
daughter.

Though Bertram did not like the marriage forced on him by the king, it
seems he was not insensible to love, for since he had been stationed
with the army at Florence, he had fallen in love with Diana, a fair
young gentlewoman, the daughter of this widow who was Helena's
hostess; and every night, with music of all sorts, and songs composed
in praise of Diana's beauty, he would come under her window, and
solicit her love: and all his suit to her was that she would permit
him to visit her by stealth after the family were retired to rest; but
Diana would by no means