things as you! Most noble sir, That which I shall report will bear no credit, Were not the proof so nigh. 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. Where's Bohemia? speak. Here in your city; I now came from him: I speak amazedly; and it becomes My marvel and my message. To your court Whiles he was hastening, 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. Camillo has betray'd me; Whose honour and whose honesty till now Endured all weathers. Lay't so to his charge: He's with the king your father. Who? Camillo? 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. O my poor father! The heaven sets spies upon us, will not have Our contract celebrated. You are married? 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. My lord, Is this the daughter of a king? She is, When once she is my wife. 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 tied in duty, and as sorry Your choice is not so rich in worth as beauty, That you might well enjoy her. 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 owed 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. Would he do so, I'ld beg your precious mistress, Which he counts but a trifle. Sir, my liege, Your eye hath too much youth in't: not a month 'Fore your queen died, she was more worth such gazes Than what you look on now. I thought of her, Even in these looks I made. But your petition Is yet unanswer'd.