Hel. Sir, I can nothing fay,

But that I am your most obedient servant.
Ber. Come, come, no more of that.

Hel. And ever fhall

With true obfervance feek to eke out That,
Wherein tow'rd me my homely ftars have fail'd
To equal my great fortune.

Ber. Let That go:

My hafte is very great. Farewel; hie home.
Hel. Pray, Sir, your pardon.

Ber. Well, what would you fay?

Hel. I am not worthy of the wealth I owe;
Nor dare I fay, '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 scarce fo much-nothing. indeed

[yes;I would not tell you what I would, my Lord-'faith, Strangers and foes do funder, and not kiss.

Lord.

Ber. I pray you, ftay not: but in hafte to horse. Hel. I fhall not break your bidding, good my [Exit Helena. Ber. Where are my other men, Monfieur?-farewel. Go thou tow'rd home, where I will never come, Whilft I can fhake my fword, or hear the drum : Away, and for our flight.

Par. Bravely, Couragio!

[Exeunt.

SCENE I.

The Duke's Court in FLORENCE.

Flourish. Enter the Duke of Florence, two French

Lords, with Soldiers.

DUKE.

So that, from point to point, now have you

The fundamental reasons of this war,

heard

Whofe

Whose great decifion hath much blood let forth,
And more thirfts after.

1 Lord. Holy feems the quarrel

Upon your Grace's part; but black and fearful
On the oppofer.

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

2 Lord. Good my Lord,

The reasons of our ftate I cannot yield,
But like a common and an outward man,
That the great figure of a council framės
By felf-unable notion; therefore dare not
Say what I think of it, since I have found
Myfelf in my incertain grounds to fail
As often as I guest.

Duke. Be it his pleasure.

2 Lord. But I am sure, the younger of our nation, That surfeit 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 better fall, for your avails they fell;
To-morrow, to the field.

Count.

[Exeunt.

Iave, that comes and would

T hath happen'd, all as I would have had it;

had.

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 [Reads the letter.

means to come.

Clo. I have no mind to Ibel, fince I was at court. Our old ling and our Ibels o'th'country, are nothing like your old ling, and your Ibels 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 ftomach. 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: fhe hath recovered the King, and undone me. I have wedded her, not bedded her; and fworn to make the not eternal. You fhall 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 fo good a King,
To pluck his indignation on thy head:
By the mifprifing of a maid, too virtuous
For the contempt of empire.

Re-enter Clown.

Bertram,

Clo. O Madam, yonder is heavy news within between two foldiers and my young lady.

Count. What is the matter?

Clo. Nay, there is fome comfort in the news, fome comfort; your fon will not be kill'd so soon as I thought he would.

Count. Why fhould he be kill'd?

Clo. So fay I, Madam, if he run away, as I hear

he

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.

Gount. Think upon patience: 'pray you, gentlemen, I've felt fo many quirks of joy and grief,

That the first face of neither, on the fart,

Can woman me unto`t. Where is my fon?

2 Gent. Madam, he's gone to serve the Duke of
Florence.

We met him thitherward, for thence we came;
And, after fome difpatch in hand at court,
Thither we bend again.

Hel. Look on this letter, Madam; here's my pass-port.

When thou canst get the ring. upon my finger, which never fhall 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 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.

If thou engroffeft all the griefs as thine,

Thou robb'it me of a moiety: he was my fon,
But I do wash his name out of my blood,

And thou art all my child. Towards Florence is he? 2 Gent. Ay, Madam.

Count.

Count. And to be a foldier?

2 Gent. 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?

[fpeed.

1 Gent. Ay, Madam, with the swifteft wing of Hel. 'Till I have no wife, I have nothing in France. 'Tis bitter.

Count. Find you that there?

Hel. Yes, Madam.

[Reading.

1 Gent. 'Tis but the boldness of his hand, happ'ly, which his heart was not confenting to.

Count. Nothing in France, until he have no wife? There's nothing here, that is too good for him, But only fhe; and she deserves a lord, That twenty fuch rude boys might tend upon, And call her hourly mistress, Who was with him? 1 Gent. A fervant only, and a gentleman Which I have fome time known.

Count. Parolles, was't not?

1 Gent. Ay, my good lady, he.

Count. A very tainted fellow, and full of wickedness: My fon corrupts a well-derived nature

With his inducement.

1 Gent. 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 intreat you, when you fee my fon, to tell him, that his fword can never win the honour that he lofes: more I'll in. treat you written to bear along.

L Gent. We ferve you, Madam, in that and all your worthieft affairs.

Count. Not fo, but as we change our courtefies.

Will you draw near?

[Exeunt Countefs and Gent.

SCENE