1 Gent.
Save you, good Madam.

Hel.
Madam, my Lord is gone, for ever gone.—

2 Gent.
Do not say so.

Count.
Think upon patience: 'pray you, gentlemen,
I've 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?

2 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.

Hel.

Look on this letter, Madam; here's my passport.

^{3 note}When thou canst get the ring, upon my finger, which never shall come off; and shew me 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?

1 Gent.

Ay, Madam, and, for the contents' sake, are sorry for our pains.

Count.
I pr'ythee, lady, have a better cheer.
If thou engrossest all the griefs as 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. Towards Florence is he?

2 Gent.
Ay, Madam.

Count.
And to be a soldier?

2 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?

1 Gent.
Ay, Madam, with the swiftest wing of speed.

Hel.
'Till I have no wife, I have nothing in France.
'Tis bitter. [Reading.

Count.
Find you that there?

Hel.
Yes, Madam.

1 Gent.

'Tis but the boldness of his hand, happ'ly, which his heart was not consenting to.

Count.
Nothing in France, until he have no wife?
There's nothing here, that is too good for him,
But only she; and she deserves a lord,
That twenty such rude boys might tend upon,
And call her hourly mistress. Who was with him?

1 Gent.
A servant only, and a gentleman
Which I have some time known.

Count.
Parolles, was't not?

1 Gent.
Ay, my good lady, he.

Count.
A very tainted fellow, and full of wickedness:
My son corrupts a well-derived nature
With his inducement.

1 Gent.

Indeed, good lady, the fellow has ^{4 note}

Count.

Y'are welcome, gentlemen; I will intreat you, when you see my son, to tell him, that his sword can never win the honour that he loses: more I'll intreat you written to bear along.

1 Gent.

We serve you, Madam, in that and all your worthiest affairs.

Count.
Not so, but as we change our courtesies.
Will you draw near? [Exeunt Countess and Gent.

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