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HELENA. I am not worthy of the wealth I owe; Nor dare I say ’tis mine, and yet it is; But, like a timorous thief, most fain would steal What law does vouch mine own.

BERTRAM. What would you have?

HELENA. Something; and scarce so much; nothing indeed. I would not tell you what I would, my lord. Faith, yes, Strangers and foes do sunder and not kiss.

BERTRAM. I pray you, stay not, but in haste to horse.

HELENA. I shall not break your bidding, good my lord. Where are my other men, monsieur? Farewell,

[Exit Helena.]

BERTRAM. Go thou toward home, where I will never come Whilst I can shake my sword or hear the drum. Away, and for our flight.

PAROLLES. Bravely, coragio!

[Exeunt.]

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