Say what I think of it, fince I have found Duke. Be it his pleasure. 2 Lord. But I am fure the younger of our Nation, That furfeit on their ease, will day by day Come here for Phyfick. Duke. Welcome shall they be be: And all the Honours that can fly from us, Shall on them fettle. You know your places well, When better fall, for your avails they fell. To morrow to the Field. Enter Countess and Clown. [Exeunt. Count. It hath happen'd as I would have had it, fave that he comes not along with her. Clo. By my troth, I take my young Lord to be a very melancholy Man, Count. By what obfervance, I pray you? Clo. Why he will look upon his Boot, and fing; mend his Ruff, and fing; ask Questions, and fing; pick his Teeth, and fing: I knew a Man that had this Trick of Melancholy, fold a goodly Manor for a Song. Count. Let me fee what he writes, and when he means to come. Our Clo. I have no mind to Isbel fince I was at Court. old Ling, and our Isbel's o'th' Country, are nothing like your old Ling, and your Isbel's o'th' Court: The Brains of my Cupid's knock'd out, and I begin to love, as an old Man loves Mony, with no Stomach. Count. What have we here? A Letter. [Exit. I have sent you a Daughter-in-Law: She hath recovered the King, and undone me. I have wedded her, Not bedded her, and fworn to make the Not eternal. You shall hear I am run away; know it before the Report come, if there be breadth enough in the World, I will hold a long distance. My Duty to you. Your unfortunate Son, Bertram. This is not well, rafh and unbridled Boy, Enter Clown. Clo. O Madam, yonder is heavy News within between two Soldiers and my young Lady. Count. What is the matter? Clo. Nay, there is some comfort in the News, fome comfort, your Son will not be kill'd fo foon as I thought he would. Count. Why should he be kill'd? Cle. So fay I, Madam, if he run away, as I hear he does, the danger is in ftanding to't; that's the lofs of Men, though it be the getting of Children. Here they come will tell you more. For my part, I only hear your Son was run away. Enter Helena and two Gentlemen. Gen. Save you, good Madam. Hel. Madam, my Lord is gone, for ever gone. 2 Gen. Do not fay fo. Count. Think upon Patience: 'Pray you, Gentlemen, I have felt fo many quirks of Joy and Grief, That the firft face of neither on the ftart Can Woman me unto't. Where is my Son, I pray you? 2 Gen. Madam, he's gone to ferve the Duke of Florence. We met him thitherward, from thence we came ; And, after fome dispatch in hand at Court, Thither we bind again. Hel. Look on this Letter, Madam, here's my Pasport. When thou canst get the Ring upon my Finger, which never hall come off, and fhew me a Child begotten of thy Body that I am Father to, then call me Husband: But in fuch a [Then] I write a [Never,] This is a dreadful Sentence. Count. Brought you this Letter, Gentlemen? 1 Gen. Ay, Madam, and, for the Contents fake, are forry for our Pains. Count Count. I prethee, Lady, have a better Cheer, 2 Gen. Ay, Madam. Count. And to be a Soldier! 2 Gen. Such is his noble purpose, and believe't The Duke will lay upon him all the Honour That good convenience claims. Count. Return you thither? 1 Gen. Ay, Madam, with the swifteft Wing of Speed. Hel. 'Till I have no Wife, I have nothing in France. 'Tis bitter. Count. Find you that there? Hel. Yes, Madam. [Reading. I Gen. 'Tis but the boldness of his hand happily, which his Heart was not consenting to. Count. Nothing in France until he have no Wife : That twenty fuch rude Boys might tend upon, I Gen. A Servant only, and a Gentleman which I have fometimes known. Count. Parolles, was it not? I Gen. Ay, my good Lady, he. Count. A very tainted Fellow, and full of Wickedness, My Son corrupts a well derived Nature With his inducement. I Gen. Indeed, good Lady, the Fellow has a deal of that, too much, which holds him much to have. Count. Y'are welcome, Gentlemen, I will entreat you, when you fee my Son, to tell him that his Soul can never win the Honour that he loses: More I'll entreat you written to bear along. 2 Gen. We ferve you, Madam, in that, and all your worthieft Affairs. Count. Not fo, but as we change our Courtefies, Will you draw near? [Exit Count. and Gentlemen. Hel Hel. 'Till I have no Wife, I have nothing in France. That drives thee from the fportive Court, where thou With fharp conftraint of Hunger: Better 'twere, Were mine at once. No, come thou home, Roflion, My being here it is, that holds thee hence, [Exit. Flourish. Enter the Duke of Florence, Bertram, Drum and Duke. The General of our Horse thou art, and we Ber. Sir, it is A charge too heavy for my Strength, but Duke, Duke. Then go thou forth, As thy aufpicious Mistress. And Fortune play upon thy profperous Helm, Ber. This very day, Great Mars, I put my felf into thy File, Make me but like my Thoughts, and I fhall prove Enter Countess and Steward. [Exeunt. Count. Alas! and would you take the Letter of her? Might you not know fhe would do, as fhe has done, By fending me a Letter. Read it again. LETTER. I am St. Jaques Pilgrim, thither gone; Ah what sharp Stings are in her mildest words? Stew. Pardon me, Madam, If I had given you this over night, She might have been o'erta'en; and yet she writes Count. What Angel fhall Bless this unworthy Husband? He cannot thrive, Of |