For the [contempt] of empire.
Re-enter Clown.
Clo. O madam, yonder is heavy news within between
two soldiers and my young lady!
Count. What is the matter?
Clo. Nay, there is some comfort in the news, some
comfort; your son will not be killed so soon as I thought
he would.
Count. Why should he be killed?
Clo. So say I, madam, if he run away, as I hear he does: