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If ever been where bells have knoll’d to church,

If ever sate at any good man’s feast,

If ever from your eyelids wip’d a tear,

And know what ’tis to pity, and be pitied,

Let gentleness my strong enforcement be,

In the which hope I blush, and hide my sword.

Duke S.

True is it that we have seen better days,

And have with holy bell been knoll’d to church,

And sat at good men’s feasts, and wip’d our eyes

Of drops that sacred pity hath engend’red;

And therefore sit you down in gentleness,

And take upon command what help we have

That to your wanting may be minist’red.

Orl.

Then but forbear your food a little while,

Whiles, like a doe, I go to find my fawn,

And give it food. There is an old poor man,

Who after me hath many a weary step

Limp’d in pure love; till he be first suffic’d,

Oppress’d with two weak evils, age and hunger,

I will not touch a bit.

Duke S.

Go find him out,

And we will nothing waste till you return.

Orl.

I thank ye, and be blest for your good comfort!

[Exit.]

Duke S.