I stuck my choice upon her, ere my heart
Durst make too bold a herald of my tongue :
Where the impression of mine eye infixing,
Contempt his scornful perspective did lend me,
Which warp'd the line of every other favour;
Scorn'd a fair colour, or express'd it stolen;
Extended or contracted all proportions.

To a most hideous object. Thence it came
That she, whom all men prais'd, and whom myself,
Since I have lost, have lov'd, was in mine eye
The dust that did offend it.

King.

Well excus'd

That thou didst love her strikes some scores away
From the great compt. But love that comes too late,
Like a remorseful pardon slowly carried,

To the great sender turns a sour offence,
Crying, that's good that's gone: our rash faults
Make trivial price of serious things we have,
Not knowing them until we know their grave:
Oft our displeasures, to ourselves unjust,
Destroy our friends, and after weep their dust:
Our own love waking cries to see what's done,
While shameful hate sleeps out the afternoon.
Be this sweet Helen's knell, and now forget her.
Send forth your amorous token for fair Maudlin:
The main consents are had; and here we'll stay
To see our widower's second marriage-day.

Count. Which better than the first, O dear Heaven bless!

Or, ere they meet in me, O Nature, cesse.

Laf. Come on, my son, in whom my house's name Must be digested, give a favour from you, To sparkle in the spirits of my daughter, That she may quickly come. By my old beard, And ev'ry hair that's on 't, Helen, that's dead,

Was a sweet creature: such a ring as this,
The last that ere I took her leave at Court,
I saw upon her finger.

Ber.

Hers it was not.

King. Now, pray you, let me see it; for mine

eye,

While I was speaking, oft was fasten'd to 't.

This ring was mine; and, when I gave it Helen,

I bade her, if her fortunes ever stood
Necessitied to help, that by this token

I would relieve her. Had you that craft to 'reave her
Of what should stead her most?

I have seen her wear it; and she reckon'd it
At her life's rate.

Laf.
Ber.

I am sure I saw her wear it. You are deceiv'd, my lord, she never saw it; In Florence was it from a casement thrown me, Wrapp'd in a paper, which contain'd the name Of her that threw it: noble she was, and thought I stood ingag'd: but when I had subscrib'd To mine own fortune, and inform'd her fully,

I could not answer in that course of honour

As she had made the overture, she ceas'd,
In heavy satisfaction, and would never
Receive the ring again.

King.

་

Plutus himself,

That knows the tinct and multiplying med'cine,

Hath not in Nature's mystery more science

Than I have in this ring: 'twas mine, 'twas Helen's,

Whoever gave it you. Then, if you know

That you are well acquainted with yourself,

Confess 'twas hers, and by what rough enforcement

You got it from her. She call'd the saints to surety
That she would never put it from her finger
Unless she gave it to yourself in bed,

(Where you have never come,) or sent it us
Upon her great disaster.

Ber.

She never saw it.

King. Thou speak'st it falsely, as I love mine

honour,

And mak'st conjectural fears to come into me,
Which I would fain shut out.
If it should prove

That thou art so inhuman, 'twill not prove so;
And yet I know not: - thou didst hate her deadly,
And she is dead; which nothing, but to close
Her eyes myself, could win me to believe
More than to see this ring. Take him away.
[Guards seize BERTRAM.

My fore-past proofs, howe'er the matter fall,
Shall tax my fears of little vanity,

Having vainly fear'd too little. - Away with him;
We'll sift this matter farther.

Ber.

If you shall prove

This ring was ever hers, you shall as easy

Prove that I husbanded her bed in Florence,

Where yet she never was. [Exit BERTRAM, guarded.

Enter the Astringer.

King. I am wrapp'd in dismal thinkings.

Gracious Sovereign,

Ast. Whether I have been to blame, or no, I know not;

Here's a petition from a Florentine,

Who hath, for four or five removes, come short
To tender it herself. I undertook it,

Vanquish'd thereto by the fair grace and speech
Of the poor suppliant, who by this, I know,

Is here attending: her business looks in her
With an importing visage; and she told me,
In a sweet verbal brief, it did concern

Your Highness with herself.

66

King. [Reads.] Upon his many protestations to marry me, when his wife was dead, I blush to say it, he won me. Now is the Count Rousillon a widower; his vows are forfeited to me, and my honour's paid to him. He stole from Florence, taking no leave, and I follow him to his country for justice. Grant it me, O King; in you it best lies; otherwise a seducer flourishes, and a poor maid is undone.

DIANA CAPULET.”

Laf. I will buy me a son-in-law in a fair, and towl [him]: for this, I'll none of him.

King. The Heavens have thought well on thee, Lafeu,

To bring forth this discov'ry. Seek these suitors: Go speedily, and bring again the Count.

[Exeunt the Astringer and same Attendants.

I am afeard the life of Helen, lady,

Was foully snatch'd.

Count.

Now, justice on the doers!

Enter BERTRAM, guarded.

King. I wonder, sir, for wives are monsters to

you,

And that you fly them as you swear them lord

ship,

Yet you desire to marry. What woman's that?

Enter the Astringer, with Widow and DIANA.

Dia. I am, my lord, a wretched Florentine, Derived from the ancient Capulet;

My suit, as I do understand, you know,

And therefore know how far I may be pitied.

Wid. I am her mother, sir, whose age and honour Both suffer under this complaint we bring;

And both shall cease without your remedy.

King. Come hither, Count. Do you know these women?

Ber. My lord, I neither can nor will deny

But that I know them. Do they charge me farther? Dia. Why do you look so strange upon your

wife?

Ber. She's none of mine, my lord.

Dia.

If you shall marry

You give away this hand, and that is mine;

You give away Heaven's vows, and those are mine; You give away myself, which is known mine;

For I by vow am so embodied yours

That she which marries you must marry me,
Either both or none.

Laf. [To BERTRAM.] Your reputation comes too short for my daughter; you are no husband for her. Ber. My lord, this is a fond and desp'rate crea

ture

Whom sometime I have laugh'd with: let your High

ness

Lay a more noble thought upon mine honour
Than for to think that I would sink it here.

King. Sir, for my thoughts, you have them ill to friend

Till your deeds gain them: fairer prove your honour Than in my thought it lies!

Dia.

Good my lord,

Ask him upon his oath if he does think

He had not my virginity.

King. What say'st thou to her?