Lord.
Most noble Sir,
That, which I shall report, will bear no credit,
Were not the proof so high. Please you, great Sir,
Bohemia greets you from himself, by me;
Desires you to attach his son, who has,
His dignity and duty both cast off,
Fled from his father, from his hopes, and with
A shepherd's daughter.

Leo.
Where's Bohemia? speak.

Lord.
Here in your city; I now came from him.
I speak amazedly, and it becomes
My marvel, and my message: to your court
Whilst he was hastning, in the chase, it seems,
Of this fair couple, meets he on the way
The father of this seeming Lady, and
Her brother, having both their country quitted
With this young Prince.

Flo.
Camillo has betray'd me;
Whose honour and whose honesty 'till now
Endur'd all weathers.

Lord.
Lay't so to his charge;

He's with the King your father.

Leo.
Who? Camillo?

Lord.
Camillo, Sir, I spake with him; who now
Has these poor men in question. Never saw I
Wretches so quake; they kneel, they kiss the earth;
Forswear themselves, as often as they speak:
Bohemia stops his ears, and threatens them
With divers deaths, in death.

Per.
Oh, my poor father!
The heav'n sets spies upon us, will not have
Our contract celebrated.

Leo.
You are marry'd?

Flo.
We are not, Sir, nor are we like to be;
The stars, I see, will kiss the valleys first;
The odds for high and low's alike.

Leo.
My Lord,
Is this the daughter of a King?

Flo.
She is,
When once she is my wife.

Leo.
That once, I see, by your good father's speed,
Will come on very slowly. I am sorry,
(Most sorry) you have broken from his liking,
Where you were ty'd in duty; and as sorry,
Your choice is not so rich in worth as beauty,^{5 note}

Flo.
Dear, look up;
Though Fortune, visible an enemy,
Should chase us, with my father; power no jot

Hath she to change our loves. 'Beseech you, Sir,
Remember, since you ow'd no more to time
Than I do now; with thought of such affections,
Step forth mine advocate. At your request,
My father will grant precious things, as trifles.

Leo.
Would he do so, I'd beg your precious mistress,
Which he counts but a trifle.

Paul.
Sir, my Liege,
Your eye hath too much youth in't; not a month
'Fore your Queen dy'd, she was more worth such gazes
Than what you look on now.

Leo.
I thought of her,
Even in these looks I made—But your petition [To Florizel.
Is yet unanswer'd; I will to your father;
Your honour not o'erthrown by your desires,
I'm friend to them and you; upon which errand
I now go toward him, therefore follow me,
And mark what way I make. Come, good my Lord. [Exeunt.

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