Par. As you'll have her.

Ber. I have writ my letters, casketed my treasure, Given order for our horses; and to-night,

When I should take possession of the bride,

And, ere I do begin,

Laf. A good traveller is something at the latter end of a dinner; but one that lies three-thirds, and uses a known truth to pass a thousand nothings with, should be once heard, and thrice beaten.-God save you, captain.

Ber. Is there any unkindness between my lord and you, monsieur ?

Par. I know not how I have deserved to run into my lord's displeasure.

Laf. You have made shift to run into't, boots and spurs and all, like him that leaped into the custard; and out of it you'll run again, rather than suffer question for your residence.

Ber. It may be, you have mistaken him, my lord.

Laf. And shall do so ever, though I took him at his prayers. Fare you well, my lord: and believe this of me, There can be no kernel in this light nut; the soul of this man is his clothes: trust him not in matter of heavy consequence; I have kept of them tame, and know their natures.-Farewell, monsieur: I have spoken better of you, than you have or will deserve at my hand; but we must do good against evil.

Par. An idle lord, I swear.

Ber. I think so.

Par. Why, do you not know him?

Ber. Yes, I do know him well; and common speech Gives him a worthy pass. Here comes my clog.

Enter HELENA.

Hel. I have, Sir, as I was commanded from you, Spoke with the king, and have procured his leave For present parting; only, he desires

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: prepared I was not

For such a business; therefore am I found

So much unsettled: This drives me to entreat you,
That presently you take your way for home;
And rather muse, than ask, why I entreat you,
For my respects are better than they seem;
And my appointments have in them a need,
Greater than shows itself, at the first view,
To you that know them not. This to my mother:

"Twill be two days ere I shall see you; so

I leave you to your wisdom.

Hel. Sir, I can nothing say,,

But that I am your most obedient servant.

[Exit.

[Giving a letter.

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, and sing; ask questions, and sing; pick 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 what 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.

[Exit.

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

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.

BERTRAM.

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.

L

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 pr'ythee, 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?

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 the
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 ravin‡ lion when he roar'd

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 § 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.