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Ber.

No, my good lord, I have sworn to stay with you;

And though I have for barbarism spoke more

Than for that angel knowledge you can say,

Yet, confident, I’ll keep what I have sworn,

And bide the penance of each three years’ day.

Give me the paper, let me read the same,

And to the strictest decrees I’ll write my name.

King.

How well this yielding rescues thee from shame!

Ber. [Reads.] “Item, That no woman shall come within a mile of my court”—Hath this been proclaim’d?

Long. Four days ago.

Ber. Let’s see the penalty. [Reads.] “– on pain of losing her tongue.” Who devis’d this penalty?

Long. Marry, that did I.

Ber. Sweet lord, and why?

Long. To fright them hence with that dread penalty.

[Ber.] A dangerous law against gentility. [Reads.] “Item, If any man be seen to talk with a woman within the term of three years, he shall endure such public shame as the rest of the court can possible devise.”

This article, my liege, yourself must break,

For well you know here comes in embassy

The French king’s daughter with yourself to speak—