of me, there can be no kernel in this light nut: the foul of this man is his clothes. Truft him not in matter of heavy confequence: I have kept of them tame, and know their natures. Farewel, Monfieur, I have spoken better of you, than you have or will deferve at my hand, but we must do good againft [Exit.

evil.

Par. An idle Lord, I fwear.

Ber. I think fo.

Par. Why, do you not know him?

Ber. Yes, I do know him well, and common speech Gives him a worthy pafs. Here comes my clog.

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 fpeech with you.

Ber. I fhall obey his will.

1

You must not marvel, Helen, at my course,
Which holds not colour with the time; nor does
The miniftration and required office
On my particular. Prepar'd I was not
For fuch a bufinefs; therefore am I found
So much unfettled: this drives me to intreat you,
That presently you take your way for home,
And rather mufe, than afk, why I intreat you;
For my respects are better than they feem,
And my appointments have in them a need
Greater than fhews itself at the first view,
To you that know them not. This to my mother.
[Giving a letter.

"Twill be two days ere I fhall fee you, fo

I leave you to your wifdom.

Hel. Sir, I can nothing fay,

But that I am your moft obedient fervant.
Ber. Come, come, no more of that.

Hel. And ever shall

With true obfervance feek to eke out that,

Wherein tow'rd me my homely ftars have fail'd

Το

Farewel; hie home.

To equal my great fortune. 'Ber. Let that go:

My hafte is very great.

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 fcarce fo much-nothing, indeed

I would not tell you what I would, my Lord-'faith, yes;-
Strangers and foes do funder, and not kiss.

Ber. I pray you, ftay not; but in hafte to horse.
Hel. (26) Í fhall not break your bidding, good my
Lord :

Where are my other men? Monfieur, farewel. [Exit.
Ber. Go thou tow'rd home, where I will never come,
Whilft I can fhake my fword, or hear the drum:
Away, and for our flight.

Par. Bravely, couragio!

(26) Hel. I shall not break your bidding, good my Lord: Where are my other men? Monfieur, farewel.

Ber. Go thou toward home, where I will never come,]

[Exeunt.

What other men is Helen here enquiring after? or who is the fuppos'd to ask for them? The old Countefs, 'tis certain, did not fend her to the court without fome attendants: but neither the Clown, nor any of her retinue, are now upon the ftage: I have not difturb'd the text, tho', I fufpect, the lines fhould be thus plac'd, and pointed. Ber. Where are my sther men, Monfieur ? [To Par.] Farewel: [To Hel. who goes out.

Go thou towards bone,-where I &c. Bertram, obferving Heler to linger fondly, and wanting to fhift her off, puts on a fhew of hafte, afks Parolles for his fervants, and then gives his wife an abrupt difmiffion.

ACT

ACT III.

SCENE, the Duke's Court in Florence.

Fleurif. Enter the Duke of Florence, two French Lords, with foldiers.

ST

DUKE.

O that, from point to point, now have you heard The fundamental reasons of this war, Whofe great decision hath much blood let forth, And more thirfts after.

1 Lord. Holy feems the quarrel

Upon your Grace's part; but black and fearful

On the opposer.

Duke. Therefore we marvel much, our coufin France Would, in fo juft a bufinefs, fhut his bofom Against our borrowing prayers.

2 Lord. Good my Lord,

The reafons of our state I cannot yield,
But like a common and an outward man,
That the great figure of a council frames
By felf-unabled motion; therefore dare not
Say what I think of it, fince I have found
My felf in my incertain grounds to fail
As often as I gueft.

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 phyfick.

Duke. Welcome fhall they be :

And all the honours, that can fly from us,

Shall on them fettle. You know your places well.
When better fall, for your avails they fell;
To-morrow, to the field.

VOL. III.

C

[Exeunt. SCENE

SCENE changes to Roufillon, in France.

Enter Countefs, and Clown.

Count.T hath happen'd, all as I would have had it;

∙I fave, 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 fing; ask questions, 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 means to come.. [Reads the Letter.

Clo. I have no mind to Ibel, fince I was at court. Our old ling, and our bels o'th' country, are nothing like your old ling, and your Ibels 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.

[Exit.

I have fent you a daughter-in-law: he hath recovered the King, and undone me. I have wedded her, not bedded hers 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 fon,

This is not well, rash and unbridled boy,
To fly the favours of fo good a king,
To pluck his indignation on thy head;
By the mifprizing of a maid, too virtuous
For the contempt of empire. In

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 fofoon as I thought he would.

Count. Why should he be kill'd?

Clo. So fay I, Madam, if he run away, as I hear he does; the danger is in ftanding to't that's the lofs 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...

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 fo many quirks of joy and grief,

That the first face of neither, on the ftart,

Can woman me unto't. "Where is my fon?

2 Gen. Madam, he's gone to ferve the Duke of Florence. We met him thitherward, from thence we came ; And after some dispatch in hand at court.

Thither we bend again.

Hel. Look on his letter, Madam; here's my país

port.

When thou canst get the ring upon my finger, which never shall come off; and fhew me a child begotten of thy body that I am father to, then call me husband: bat in fuch a then I write a never.

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.
If thou engroffeft all the griefs as thine,42

Thou