Enter Helena.

Hel. I have, fir, as I was commanded from you,
Spoke with the king, and have procur'd his leave
For prefent parting; only, he defires
Some private speech with you.

Ber. I fhall 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 fuch a bufinefs; 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 entreat you:
For my refpects are better than they seem;
And my appointments have in them a need,
Greater than fhews itself, at the first view,
To you that know them not.

This to my

"Twill be two days ere I fhall fee you; fo

I leave you to your wisdom.

Hel. Sir, I can nothing say,

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

mother:

[Giving a letter.

With true obfervance seek to eke out that,

Wherein toward 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, fir, your pardon.

Ber. Well, what would you say?

`muse,]-admire in filence.

Hel.

Hel. I am not worthy of the wealth I owe;

Nor dare I fay, '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 fcarce fo much:- nothing, indeed.

I would not tell you what I would; my lord,-'faith,

yes;

Strangers, and foes, do funder, and not kiss.

Ber. I pray you,
Hel. I fhall not

a

ftay not, but in hafte to horse. break your bidding, good my lord.

[Exit Helena. Ber. Where are my other men, monfieur ?-Farewel. Go thou toward home; where I will never come, Whilft I can shake my fword, or hear the drum:~

Away, and for our flight.

Par. Bravely, coragio!

[Exeunt.

ACT III. 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 heard The fundamental reafons of this war;

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

1 Lord. Holy feems the quarrel

Upon your grace's part; black and fearful

On the oppofer.

break your bidding,]-disobey you.

Duke.

Duke. Therefore we marvel much, our coufin France

Would, in fo juft a business, shut his bofom

Against our borrowing prayers.

2 Lord. Good my lord,

The reasons of our state I cannot yield,

b

But like a common and an outward man,
That the great figure of a council frames

By felf-unable notion: therefore dare not
Say what I think of it; fince I have found
Myself in my uncertain grounds to fail
As often as I guess'd.

Duke. Be it his pleasure.

2 Lord. But I am fure, the

younger

of our

d

nature,

That furfeit on their eafe, will, day by day,

Come here for phyfick.

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.

SCENE II.

Roufillon, in France.

Enter Countess and Clown.

[Exeunt.

Count. It hath happened 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 observance, I pray you?

b an outward man,]-one out of the fecret.

< By felf-unable notion :]-according to his own fimple conceptiond nature,]-people, our youth.

motion.

с

they fell:]-they may be faid to have fallen.

Clo.

Clo. Why, he will look upon his boot, and fing; 'mend the ruff, and fing; ask questions, and fing; pick his teeth, and sing: I know 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.

Clo. I have no mind to Ifbel, fince I was at court: our old ling and our Ifbels o'the country, are nothing like your old ling and your Ifbels o'the 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 bath recovered the king, and undone me. I have wedded ber, not bedded ber; and fworn to make the not eternal. You shall bear, 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 fon,

This is not well, rafh and unbridled boy,
To fly the favours of fo good a king;
To pluck his indignation on thy head,
By the mifprizing 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 com

mend the ruff,]-adjuft his cravat.

8 with no ftomach.]-to enjoy it.

fort;

fort; your fon will not be kill'd fo foon as I thought he would.

Count. Why should he be kill'd?

Clo. So fay I, madam, if he run away, as I hear he does the danger is in ftanding 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 fon was run away.

Enter Helena, and two gentlemen.

I Gen. Save you, good madam.

Hel. Madam, my lord is gone, for ever gone.

2 Gen. Do not say so.

Count. Think upon patience.

men,

'Pray you, gentle

I have felt fo many quirks of joy, and grief,
That the first face of neither, on the start,

Can woman me unto't:-Where is my fon, I pray you ? 2 Gen. Madam, he's gone to ferve the duke of Florence: We met him thitherward; for thence we came,

And, after fome dispatch in hand at court,

Thither we bend again.

Hel. Look on this letter, madam; here's my paffport. When thou canst get the ring upon my finger, which never fball come off, and shew me a child begotten of thy body, that I am father to, then call me busband: but in fuch a Then I write a Never.

This is a dreadful fentence.

Count. Brought you this letter, gentlemen?

1 Gen. Ay, madam;

And, for the contents' fake, are forry for our pains.
Count. I pr'ythee, lady, have a better cheer;

↳ Can woman me unto't:]-Produce in me fuch fudden emotions, as are ufual in our fex.

VOL. II.

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