SCENE I. Florence. A room in the Duke’s palace.

Flourish. Enter the Duke of Florence attended; two French Lords, and Soldiers.

DUKE. So that, from point to point, now have you heard The fundamental reasons of this war, Whose great decision hath much blood let forth, And more thirsts after.

FIRST LORD. Holy seems the quarrel Upon your Grace’s part; black and fearful On the opposer.

DUKE. Therefore we marvel much our cousin France Would, in so just a business, shut his bosom Against our borrowing prayers.

SECOND LORD. Good my lord, The reasons of our state I cannot yield, But like a common and an outward man That the great figure of a council frames By self-unable motion; therefore dare not Say what I think of it, since I have found Myself in my incertain grounds to fail As often as I guess’d.

DUKE. Be it his pleasure.

FIRST LORD. But I am sure the younger of our nature, That surfeit on their ease, will day by day Come here for physic.

DUKE. Welcome shall they be; And all the honours that can fly from us Shall on them settle. You know your places well; When better fall, for your avails they fell. Tomorrow to the field.

[ Flourish. Exeunt. ]