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Ber. Come, come, no more of that.

Hel. And ever shall
With true observance seek to eke out that,
Wherein toward me my homely stars have fail'd
To equal my great fortune.

Ber. Let that go :
My haste is very great: Farewell; hie home.

Hel. Pray, Sir, your pardon.
Ber. Well, what would you say?

Hel. I am not worthy of the wealth I owe ;*
Nor dare I say, 'tis mine; and yet it is;
But, like a timorous thief, most fain would steal
What law does vouch mine own.

Ber. What would you have ?

Hel. Something; and scarce so much:-nothing indeed.-
I would not tell you what I would : my lord—'faith, yes;-
Strangers, and foes, do sunder, and not kiss.

Ber. I pray you, stay not, but in haste to horse.
Hel. I shall not break your bidding, good my lord.
Ber. Where are my other men, monsieur ?-Farewell.

[Exit HELENA.
Go thou toward home; where I will never come,
Whilst I can shake my sword, or hear the drum :-
Away, and for our flight.
Par. Bravely, coragio !

[Exeunt.

ACT III.

SCENE I.-Florence. A Room in the Duke's Palace. Flourish.- Enter the DUKE OF FLORENCE, attended; two French

LORDS, and others.
Duke. So that, from point to point, now have you heard
The fundamental reasons of this war;
Whose great decision hath much blood let forth,
And more thirsts after.

1 Lord. Holy seems the quarrel
Upon your grace's part ; black and feaful
On the opposer.

Duke. Therefore we marvel much, our cousin France
Would, in so just a business, shut his bosom
Against our borrowing prayers.

2 Lord. Good my lord,
The reasons of our state I cannot yield,+
But like a common and an outward man,
That the great figure of a council frames
By self-unable motion: therefore dare not
Say what I think of it; since I have found

* Own.

+ Explain.

# Not in the secret.

Myself in my uncertain grounds to fail
As often as I guess'd.

Duke. Be it his pleasure.
2 Lord. But I am sure, the younger of our nature,*
That surfeit on their ease, will day by day,
Come here for physic.

Duke. Welcome shall they be;
And all the honours that can fly from us,
Shall on them settle. You know your places well;
When better fall, for your avails they fell :
To-morrow to the field.

[Flourish. Exeunt.

SCENE II.-Rousillon. A Room in the COUNTESS's Palace,

Enter COUNTESS and CLOWN. Count. It hath happened all as I would have had it, save, 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 observance, I pray you ?

Clo. Why, he will look upon his boot, and sing; mend the ruff;t and sing; ask questions, and sing; píck his teeth, and sing : I know a man that had this trick of melancholy, sold a goodly manor for a song. Count. Let me see wbat he writes, and when he means to come.

[Opening a letter. Clo. I have no mind to Isbel, since I was at court: our old ling and our Isbels o' the country are nothing like your old ling and your Isbels o' the court: the brains of my Cupid's knocked out; and I begin to love, as an old man loves money, with no stomach.

Count. What have we here?
Clo. E'en that you have there.

[Exit. Count. [Reads.] I have sent you a daughter-in-law : she hath recovered the king, and undone me. I have wedded her, not bedded her; and sworn 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, rash and unbridled boy, To fly the favours of so good a king; To pluck his indignation on thy head, By the misprizing of a maid too virtuous For the contempt of empire.

Re-enter CLOWN. Clo. O Madam, yonder is heavy news within, between two soldiers and my young lady.

* Our young fellows.

† The fold at the top of the boot.

Count. What is the matter?

Clo. Nay, there is some comfort in the news, some comfort; your son will not be killed so soon as I thought he would.

Count. Why should he be killed ?

Clo. So say I, Madam, if he run away, as I hear he does: the danger is in standing to't; that's the loss 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. [Exit CLOWN.

Enter HELENA and two GENTLEMEN.
1 Gen. Save you, good Madam.
Hel. Madam, my lord is gone, for ever gone.
2 Gen. Do not say so.
Count. Think upon patience.—'Pray you, gentlemen,-
I have felt so many quirks of joy, and grief,
That the first face of neither, on the start,
Can woman me unto't:-Where is my son, I pray you ?

2 Gen. Madam, he's gone to serve the duke of Florence:
We met him thitherward; from thence we came,
And, after some despatch in hand at court,
Thither we bend again.

Hel. Look on his letter, madam; here's my passport.

[Reads.] When thou canst get the ring upon my finger, which never shall come off, and show me a child begotten of thy body, that I am father too, then call me husband : but in such 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' sake, are sorry for our pains.

Count. I prythee, lady, have a better cheer;
If thou engrossest all the griefs*

are thine,
Thou robb'st me of a moiety. He was my son ;
But I do wash his name out of my blood,
And thou art all my child.—Towards Florence is he?

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 swiftest wing of speed.
Hel. [Reads.] Till I have no wife, I have nothing in France.
Tis bitter.

Count. Find you that there?
Hel. Ay, Madam.
1 Gen. 'Tis but the boldness of his hand, haply, which
His heart was not consenting to.

Count. Nothing in France, until he have no wife!
There's nothing here, that is too good for him,

* (That are.)

But only she; and she deserves a lord,
That twenty such rude boys might tend upon,
And call her hourly, mistress. Who was with him ?

1 Gen. A servant only, and a gentleman Which I have some time known.

Count. Parolles, was't not?
1 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.

1 Gen. Indeed, good lady,
The fellow has a deal of that, too much,
Which holds him much to have.*

Count. You are welcome, gentlemen.
I will entreat you, when you see my son,
To tell him, that his sword can never win
The honour that he loses : more I'll entreat you
Written to bear along.

2 Gen. We serve you, Madam,
In that and all your worthiest affairs.

Count. Not so, but as we changet our courtesies.
Will you draw near ? [Exeunt COUNTESS and GENTLEMEN.

Hel. Till I have no wife, I have nothing in France.
Nothing in France, until he has no wife !
Thou shalt have none, Rousillon, none in France,
Then hast thou all again. Poor lord ! is't I
That chase thee from thy country, and expose
Those tender limbs of thine to the event
Of the none-sparing war ? and is it I
That drive thee from the sportive court, where thou
Wast shot at with fair eyes, to be the mark
Of smoky muskets? O you leaden messengers,
That ride upon the violent speed of fire,
Fly with false aim; move the still-piercing air,
That sings with piercing,

do not touch my lord !
Whoever shoots at him, I set him there;
Whoever charges on his forward breast,
I am the caitiff, that do hold him to it;
And, though I kill him not, I am the cause
His death was so affected : better 'twere,
I met the ravint, lion when he roard
With sharp constraint of hunger; better 'twere
That all the miseries, which nature owes,
Were mine at once : No, come thou home, Rousillon,
Whence honour but of 8 danger wins a scar,
As oft it loses all; I will be gone:
My being here it is, that keeps thee hence:
Shall I stay here to do't? no, no, although
The air of paradise did fan the house,
And angels officed all : I will be gone;

* Too much vice, which yet stands him in stead.
+ Exchange.

# Ravenous.

$ Only from.

That pitiful rumour may report my flight,
To consolate thine ear. Come, night; end, day!
For, with the dark, poor thief, I'll steal away.

[Exit. SCENE III.-Florence. Before the DUKE's Palace. Flourish. Enter the DUKE OF FLORENCE, BERTRAM, LORDS,

Officers, Soldiers, and others.
Duke. The general of our horse thou art; and we,
Great in our hope, lay our best love and credence,
Upon thy promising fortune.

Ber. Sir, it is
A charge too heavy for my strength ; but yet
We'll strive to bear it for your worthy sake,
To the extreme edge of hazard.

Duke. Then go thou forth;
And fortune play upon thy prosperous helm,
As thy auspicious mistress !

Ber. This very day,
Great Mars, I put myself into thy file :
Make me but like my thoughts; and I shall prove
A lover of thy drum, hater of love.

[Exeunt. SCENE IV-Rousillon. A Room in the COUNTESS's Palace.

Enter COUNTESS and STEWARD.
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. I am Saint Jaques' pilgrim, thither gone;

Ambitious love hath so in me offended,
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 peace, whilst I from far,

His name with zealous fervour sanctify:
His taken labours bid him me forgive ;

1, his despiteful Juno, sent him forth
From courtly friends, with camping foes to live,

Where death and danger dog the heels of worth :
He is too good and fair for death and me;

Whom I myself embrace, to set him free.
Count. Ah, what sharp stings are in her mildest words !
Rinaldo, you did never lack advice* so much,
As letting her pass so; had I spoke with her,
I could have well diverted her intents,
Which thus she hath prevented.

Stew. Pardon me, Madam:
If I had given you this at over-night,

* Discretion.

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