Enter Parolles. Par. These things shall be done, Sir. Laf. I pray you, Sir, who's his tailor? Par. Sir? Laf. O, I know him well; I, Sir, he, Sir, 's a good workman, a very good tailor. Ber. Is the gone to the King? [Afide to Parolles, Par. She is. Ber. Will the away to-night? Par. As you'll have her. Ber. I have writ my letters, casketed my treafure, given order for our horfes; and to-night, when I should take poffeffion of the bride begin and ere I do Laf. A good traveller is something at the latter end of a dinner; but one that lyes three thirds, and uses a known truth to pass a thousand nothings with, should be once heard, and thrice beaten. God fave you, Captain. Ber. Is there any unkindness between my Lord and you, Monfieur? Par. I know not how I have deserved to run into my Lord's difpleasure. Laf. You have made shift to run into't, boots and spurs and all, like him that leapt into the custard; and out of it you'll run again, rather than fuffer question for your refidence. Ber. It may be you have mistaken him, my Lord. Laf. And fhall do fo ever, tho' I took him at's prayers. Fare you well, my Lord; and believe this of me, there can be no kernel in this light nut: the foul of this man is his cloaths. Trust him not in matter of heavy consequence. I have kept of them tame, and know their natures. Farewel, Monfieur; I have spoken better of you, than you have or will deferve at my hand, but we must do good against evil. [Exit. Par. An idle Lord, I fwear. Ber. I think fo. Par. Why, do you not know him? Gives him a worthy pass. Here comes my clog. SCENE SCENE XI. Enter Helena. Hel. I have, Sir, as I was commanded from you, Spoke with the King, and have procur'd his leave For present parting; only he defires Some private speech with you. Ber. I shall obey his will.. You must not marvel, Helen, at my course, Which holds not colour with the time; nor does The ministration and required office On my particular. Prepar'd I was not For fuch a business; therefore am I found So much unfettled: this drives me to intreat you, That presently you take your way for home, And rather muse, than ask, why I intreat you; For my respects are better than they feem, And my appointments have in them a need Greater than shews itself at the first view, To you that know them not. This to my mother. [Giving a letter. 'Twill be two days ere I shall fee you, fo Hel. Sir, I can nothing fay, Hel. And ever shall With true obfervance seek to eke out that, To equal my great fortune. Ber. Let that go : My haste is very great. Farewel; 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 tim'rous thief, most fain would steal What law does vouch mine own. Ber. What would you have? Hel. Something, and searce so much nothing, indeed I would not tell you what I would, my Lord-'faith, yes; Strangers Strangers and foes do funder, and not kiss. [Exit Helena. Ber. Where are my other men, Monfieur? - farewel. Go thou tow'rd home, where I will never come, Whilft I can shake my sword, or hear the drum : Away, and for our flight. Par. Bravely, Couragio! ACTIII. [Exeunt. SCENEI. The Duke's court in Florence. Flourish. Enter the Duke of Florence, tawa French Lords, with foldiers. Duke. O that, from point to point, now have you The fundamental reasons of this war, [heard S Whose great decifion hath much blood let forth, 1 Lord. Holy seems the quarrel Duke. Therefore we marvel much our coufin France Would, in so just a business, shut his bofom Againft our borrowing prayers. The reafons of our state I cannot yield, 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 phyfic. Duke. Welcome shall they be: And all the honours that can fly from us, Shall on them fettle. You know your places well. When When better fall, for your avails they fell; [Exeunt. SCENE H. Changes to Roufillon in France. Enter. Countess and Clown. Count. It hath happen'd, all 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? Glo. 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 fong. Count. Let me fee what he writes, and when he [Reads the letter. means to come. Clo. I have no mind to Isbel, fince I was at court. Our old ling, and our Ifbels o' th' country, are nothing like your old ling, and your Isbel's o' th' court: the brain of my Cupid's knock'd 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. Countess reads a letter. [Exit. I have fent you a daughter-in-law: The hath recover. ed 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 If there be breadth enough in the world, I will hold a long distance. My duty to you. come. Your unfortunate fon. This is not well, rash and unbridled boy, Bertram. Re Re-enter Clown. Clo. O Madam, yonder is heavy news within be tween two foldiers 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 fhould he be kill'd? 4 Clo. So fay I, Madam, if he run away, as I hear he does; the danger is in standing 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 fon was run away. SCENE III. Enter Helena, and two Gentlemen. 1 Gent. Save you, good Madam. Hel. Madam, my Lord is gone, for ever gone. 2 Gent. Do not fay fo. Count. Think upon patience: 'pray you, Gentlemen, I've felt so many quirks of joy and grief, 2 Gent. Madam, he's gone to serve the Duke of Florence. We met him thitherward, for thence we came ; Hel. Look on this letter, Madam; here's my passport. When thou canst get the ring upon my finger, which never shall come off; and shew 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 fentence. Count. Brought you this letter, Gentlemen? 1 Gent. Ay, Madam; and, for the contents' fake, are forry for our pains. Count. I pr'ythee, Lady, have a better cheer. VOL. III. F And |