G. The webbe of our life, is of a mingled yarne,
good and ill together: our vertues would bee proud, if
our faults whipt them not, and our crimes would dispaire
if they were not cherish'd by our vertues.
Enter a Messenger.
How now? Where's your master?
Ser. He met the Duke in the street sir, of whom hee
hath taken a solemne leaue: his Lordshippe will next
morning for France. The Duke hath offered him Letters
of commendations to the King
Cap.E. They shall bee no more then needfull there,
if they were more then they can commend.
Enter Count Rossillion.
Ber. They cannot be too sweete for the Kings tartnesse,
heere's his Lordship now. How now my Lord,
i'st not after midnight?
Ber. I haue to night dispatch'd sixteene businesses, a
moneths length a peece, by an abstract of successe: I
haue congied with the Duke, done my adieu with his
neerest; buried a wife, mourn'd for her, writ to my Ladie
mother, I am returning, entertain'd my Conuoy, &
betweene these maine parcels of dispatch, affected many
nicer needs: the last was the greatest, but that I haue
not ended yet
Cap.E. If the businesse bee of any difficulty, and this
morning your departure hence, it requires hast of your
Lordship
Ber.
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