Act III, Scene i:
Florence. A room in the DUKE's palace.

[Flourish. Enter the DUKE OF FLORENCE, attended; two FrenchLords, 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:

To-morrow to th' field.

[Flourish. Exeunt.]