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ACT III. SCENE I.
Flourish. Enter the Duke of Florence, two French Lords, with Soldiers.
O that from point to point now have you heard
1 Lord. Holy feems the quarrel
Upon your grace's part; but black and fearful
Duke. Therefore we marvel much, our coufin France
2 Lord. Good my lord,
The reasons 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 ease, will, day by day, Come here for phyfick.
Duke. Welcome shall they be:
Shall on them fettle. You know your places well;
Changes to Roufillon in France.
Enter Countess, and Clown.
Count. T hath happen'd 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 obfervance, I pray you?
Clo. Why, he will look upon his boot, and fing; mend his ruff, and sing; ask questions, and sing; pick his teeth, and fing. I knew 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
Clo. I have no mind to Ibel fince I was at court: our old ling, and our Ifbels o'th' country, are nothing like your old ling, and your Ifbels 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.
Countess reads a letter.
I have fent you a daughter-in-law: fhe hath recovered the king, and undone me. I have wedded her, not bedded her; and fworn 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 fon,
This is not well, rash and unbridled boy,
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 son will not be kill'd so soon 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 lofs of men, though it be the getting of children. Here they come will tell For my part, I only heard, your son was run away.
Enter Helena, and two Gentlemen.
1 Gen. Save you, good madam.
Hel. Madam, my lord is gone, for ever gone. 2 Gen. Do not fay fo.
Count. Think upon patience, 'pray you: gentlemen,
I've felt so many quirks of joy and grief,
2 Gen. Madam, he's gone to serve the duke of Florence.
Hel. Look on this letter, madam, here's my paffport.
When thou canst get the ring from my finger, which never fball come off, and show me a child begotten of thy body that I
am father to, then call me husband: but in fuch a then I write a
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.
Thou robb'ft me of a moiety: he was my fon,
And thou art all my child. Towards Florence is he?
Count. And to be a foldier?
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 swifteft wing of speed. Hel. Till I have no wife, I have nothing in France. [reading.
Count. Find you that there?
Hel. Yes, madam.
1 Gen. 'Tis but the boldness of his hand, happily, which his heart was not confenting to.
Count. Nothing in France until he have no wife?
That twenty fuch rude boys might tend upon,
Count. Parolles, was't not?
1 Gen. Ay, my good lady, he.
Count. A very tainted fellow, and full of wickedness: my fon corrupts a well-deriv'd nature with his inducement.
1 Gen. Indeed, good lady, the fellow has a deal of that too much, which 'hoves him not much to have.
Count. Y'are welcome, gentlemen; I will entreat you, when you fee my fon, to tell him, that his fword can never win the honour that he loses: more I'll entreat you written to bear along.
2 Gen. We serve you, madam, in that and all your worthiest affairs.
Count. Not fo, but as we change our courtefies. Will you draw near
[Ex. Count. and Gentlemen.
Hel. Till I have no wife, I have nothing in France.
Of the none-sparing war? and is it I,
With fharp constraint of hunger: better 'twere
Were mine at once. No, come thou home, Roufillon,