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 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: prepar'd 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,
Το

you that know them not. This to my mother:
[Giring a letter.

'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.
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: 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 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.

Farewel.

Ber. Where are my other men, monsieur?[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.

E

ACT III. SCENE 1.

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 reason of this war;

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

Would, in so just a business, shut his bosom

Against our borrowing prayers.

Good my lord,

2 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 means to come. [Opening a Letter.

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

[Exit.

Count. [Reads.] I have sent you a daughter-inlaw: 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,

BERTRAM.

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.

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 kill'd 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.