[Exit Em.]
Valingford.
Will not Em shew one cheerful look on Valingford?
Miller. Alas, sir, blame her not; you see she hath good cause, being so handled by this gentleman: And so I’ll leave you, and go comfort my poor wench as well as I may.
[Exit the Miller.]
Valingford.
Farewell, good father.
[Exit Valingford.]
ACT V.
Scene I.
Open country in England.
[Enter Zweno, king of Denmark, with Rosilio and other attendants.]
Zweno.
Rosilio, is this the place whereas the Duke William
should
meet me?
Rosilio.
It is, and like your grace.
Zweno.
Go, captain! Away, regard the charge I gave:
See all our men be martialed for the fight.
Dispose the Wards as lately was devised;
And let the prisoners under several guards
Be kept apart, until you hear from us.
Let this suffise, you know my resolution.
If William, Duke of Saxons, be the man,
That by his answer sent us, he would seem,
Not words, but wounds: not parlays, but alarms,
Must be decider of this controversy.
Rosilio, stay with me; the rest begone.
[Exeunt.]
[Enter William, and Demarch with other attendants.]
William.
All but Demarch go shroud you out of sight;
For I will go parlay with the Prince my self.
Demarch.
Should Zweno by this parlay call you foorth,
Upon intent injuriously to deal,
This offereth too much opportunity.
William.
No, no, Demarch,
That were a breach against the law of Arms:
Therefore begone, and leave us here alone.
[Exeunt.]
I see that Zweno is maister of his word.
Zweno, William of Saxony greeteth thee,
Either well or ill, according to thy intent.
If well thou wish to him and Saxony,
He bids thee friendly welcome as he can.
If ill thou wish to him and Saxony,
He must withstand thy malice as he may.
Zweno.
William,
For other name and title give I none
To him, who, were he worthy of those honours
That Fortune and his predecessors left,
I ought, by right and humaine courtesy,
To grace his style with Duke of Saxony;
But, for I find a base, degenerate mind,
I frame my speech according to the man,
And not the state that he unworthy holds.
William.
Herein, Zweno, dost thou abase thy state,
To break the peace which by our ancestors
Hath heretofore been honourably kept.
Zweno.
And should that peace for ever have been kept,
Had not thy self been author of the breach:
Nor stands it with the honor of my state,
Or nature of a father to his child,
That I should so be robbed of my daughter,
And not unto the utmost of my power
Revenge so intolerable an injury.