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_ ACT III. SCENE I.
Florence. The DUKE's palace.
[Flourish. Enter the DUKE OF FLORENCE, attended;
two FRENCH LORDS, with a TROOP OF 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.] _
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