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.

90

ACT III.

SCENE I. Florence.

The DUKE's palace.

Flourish.

Enter the DUKE of Florence, attended;

the two Frenchmen, with a troop of soldiers.

Duke. So that from point to point now have you heard

The fundamental reasons of this war,

84. owe, own.

Duke. Therefore we marvel much our cousin
France

Would in so just a business shut his bosom
Against our borrowing prayers.

Sec. Lord.

Good my lord,

ΙΟ

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 incertain grounds to fail
As often as I guess'd.

Duke.

Be it his pleasure.

First Lord. But I am sure the younger of our

nature,

That surfeit on their ease, will day by day

Come here for physic.

When better fall, for your avails they fell:
To-morrow to the field.

II. outward, having no access to the counsels of government, an outsider.'

12, 13. That the great figure of a council frames by self-unable

[Flourish. Exeunt.

motion, that forms an idea of state council with his rude unaided intelligence.

22. avails, advantage.

SCENE II. Rousillon. The COUNT'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.

Isbel since I was at
Isbels o' the country

Clo. I have no mind to court our old ling and our 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.

Count. What have we here?

Clo. E'en that you have there.

[Exit.

Count. [Reads] I have sent you à 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,

This is not well, rash and unbridled boy,

14. ling, i.e. Lenten food.

BERTRAM.

ΤΟ

20

30

To fly the favours of so good a'king;
To pluck his indignation on thy head
By the misprising of a maid too virtuous
or 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 killed so soon as I thought he would.

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.

Enter HELENA and two Gentlemen.

First Gent. Save you, good madam.

[Exit.

Hel. Madam, my lord is gone, for ever gone.
Sec. Gent. 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?
Sec. Gent. Madam, he 's gone to serve the duke

of Florence :

We met him thitherward; for thence we came,
And, after some dispatch in hand at court,

Thither we bend again.

34. To merit an emperor's disdain.

40

50

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 60 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?
First Gent.

Ay, madam; And for the contents' sake are sorry for our pains.

Count. I prithee, 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.

he?

Sec. Gent. Ay, madam.

Count.

Towards Florence is

And to be a soldier?

Sec. 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?

First Gent. 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.

First Gent. 'Tis but the boldness of his hand, haply, which his heart was not consenting to. Count. Nothing in France, until he have no wife!

69. moiety, share.

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80