Florence. Before the DUKE's palace
Flourish. Enter the DUKE OF FLORENCE, BERTRAM, PAROLLES, SOLDIERS, drum and trumpets
The General of our Horse thou art; and we,
Great in our hope, lay our best love and credence
Upon thy promising fortune.
Sir, it is
A charge too heavy for my strength; but yet
We'll strive to bear it for your worthy sake
To th' extreme edge of hazard.
Then go thou forth;
And Fortune play upon thy prosperous helm,
As thy auspicious mistress!
This very day,
Great Mars, I put myself into thy file;
Make me but like my thoughts, and I shall prove
A lover of thy drum, hater of love.
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