Florence. Before the Duke's Palace.
 Flourish.
 Enter the DUKE, BERTRAM, PAROLLES, SOLDIERS, DRUM and TRUMPETS.

Duke	The general of our horse thou art, and we,
	Great in our hope, lay our best love and credence
	Upon thy promising fortune.

Bertram								Sir, it is
	A charge too heavy for my strength, but yet
	We'll strive to bear it for your worthy sake
	To the extreme edge of hazard.

Duke									Then go thou forth,
	And fortune play upon thy prosperous helm
	As thy auspicious mistress!

Bertram								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.
												[Exeunt.
