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?-Fare[Exit HELENA. Go thou toward home; where I will never come, Whilst I can shake my sword, or hear the drum :

well.

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 fearful

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
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 physick.

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 [Opening a letter.

means to come.

Clo. I have no mind to Isbel, since I was at court; our old ling and our Isbels o'the country are nothing like our old ling and our 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 eter

nal. 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.

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 kill'd?

:

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, gentle

men,

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 Flo-

rence:

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 to, 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?

1