Enter Parolles. Par. These things fhall be done, Sir. Laf. O, I know him well; I, Sir, he, Sir, 's a good workman, a very good tailor. Ber. Is the gone to the King? [Afide to Parolles Par. She is. Ber. Will the away to-night? Par. As you'll have her. Ber. I have writ my letters, cafketed my treasure, given order for our horfes; and to-night, when I fhould take poffeffion of the bride and ere I do begin Laf. A good traveller is fomething at the latter end of a dinner; but one that lyes three thirds, and uses a known truth to pass a thousand nothings with, should be once heard, and thrice beaten. God fave you, Captain. Ber. Is there any unkindness between my Lord and you, Monfieur? Par. I know not how I have deferved to run into my Lord's difpleasure. Laf. You have made shift to run into't, boots and fpurs and all, like him that leapt into the custard; and out of it you'll run again, rather than suffer question for your refidence. Ber. It may be you have mistaken him, my Lord. Laf. And fhall do fo ever, tho' I took him at's prayers. Fare you well, my Lord; and believe this of me, there can be no kernel in this light nut: the foul of this man is his cloaths. Truft him not in matter of heavy confequence. I have kept of them tame, and know their natures. Farewel, Monfieur; I have fpoken better of you, than you have or will deserve at my hand, but we muft do good against evil. Par. An idle Lord, I fwear. Ber. I think fo. Par. Why, do you not know him? [Exit. Ber. Yes, I know him well, and common fpeech Gives him a worthy país. Here comes my clog. SCENE SCENE XI. Enter Helena. Hel. I have, Sir, 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 courfe, On my particular. Prepar'd I was not So much unfettled: this drives me to intreat you, Το you that know them not. This to my mother. I leave you to your wisdom. Hel. Sir, I can nothing fay, But that I am your most obedient fervant. With true obfervance seek to eke out that, Ber. Let that go: My hate 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 fearce fo much nothing, indeed I would not tell you what I would, my Lord-'faith, yes; Strangers Strangers and foes do funder, and not kifs. Ber. I pray you, ftay not; but in haste a horse. Hel. I fhall not break your bidding, good my Lord. [Exit Helena. Ber. Where are my other men, Monfieur?- farewel. Go thou tow'rd home, where I will never come, Whilst I can shake 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 Duke. O that, from point to point, now have you 1 Lord. Holy feems the quarrel Upon your Grace's part; but black and fearful On the oppofer. Duke. Therefore we marvel much our coufin France Would, in fo just a business, fhut his bofom 2 Lord. Good my Lord, The reafons of our state I cannot yield, Duke. Be it his pleasure. 2 Lord. But I am fure the younger of our nation, That furfeit on their eafe, will day by day Come here for phyfic. Duke. Welcome fhall they be: And all the honours that can fly from us, Shall on them fettle. You know your places well. When z. When better fail, for your avails they fell; To-morrow, to the field. : [Exeunt. SCENE H. Changes to Roufillon in France. Enter. Countefs and Clown, Count. It hath happen'd, 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. ༣* Count. By what obfervance, I pray you? Glo. Why, he will look upon his boot, and fing; mend his ruff, and fing; afk queftions, and fing; pick his teeth, and fing. I knew a man that had this trick of melancholy, fold a goodly manor for a fong." Count. Let me fee what he writes, and when he [Reads the letter. means to come. Clo. I have no mind to Ifbel, fince I was at court. Our old ling, and our Ifbels o' th' country, are nothing like your old ling, and your Ifbel's 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. Countefs reads a letter. [Exit. I have fent you a daughter-in-law: he 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 fon. This is not well, rash and unbridled boy, Bertram. Re Re-enter Clown. 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 fo foon 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 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 fon was run away. SCENE III. Enter Helena, and two Gentlemen. 1 Gent. Save you, good Madam. Hel. Madam, my Lord is gone, for ever gone. Count. Think upon patience: 'pray you, Gentlemen, I've 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? 2 Gent. Madam, he's gone to ferve the Duke of We met him thitherward, for thence we came; Hel. Look on this letter, Madam; here's my paffport. 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 hufband: 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. Thou robb'ft me of a moiety: he was my fon; VOL. III. F And |