The main consents are had; and here we'll stay
To fee our widower's fecond marriage-day :

Count. Which better than the firft, o dear heav'n, blefs! Or, ere they meet, in me, o nature, cease!

Laf. Come on, my fon, in whom my house's name
Must be digested: give a favour from you
To fparkle in the fpirits 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: fuch a ring as this,
The laft time e'er fhe took her leave at court,
I saw upon her finger.

Ber. Hers it was not.

[Ber. gives a ring.

King. Now, pray you, let me fee 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 bad her, if her fortunes ever stood

Neceffited to help, that by this token

I would relieve her: had you that craft to 'reave her
Of what should ftead her moft?

Ber. My gracious fovereign,
Howe'er it pleases you to take it so,
The ring was never hers.

Count. Son, on my life,

I've feen her wear it; and fhe reckon'd it
At her life's rate.

Laf. I'm fure, I faw her wear it.

Ber. You are deceiv'd, my lord, fhe never saw it;
In Florence was it from a cafement thrown me,
Wrap'd in a paper, which contain'd the name
Of her that threw it: noble fhe was, and thought
I ftood ungag'd; but when I had fubfcrib'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, fhe ceas'd

In heavy fatisfaction, and would never

Receive the ring again.

King. Plutus himself,

That knows the tinct and multiplying medicine,
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,
Confefs 'twas hers, and by what rough enforcement
You got it from her. She call'd the faints to furety,
That she would never put it from her finger,

Unless she gave it to yourself in bed,

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

Ber. She never faw it.

King. Thou speak'st it falfely, as I love mine honour;
And mak❜ft conject'ral fears to come into me,
Which I would fain fhut out: if it fhould prove
That thou art fo inhuman-'twill not prove fo-
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 feize Bertram.

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

Having vainly fear'd too little. Away with him,
We'll fift this matter further.

Ber. If you fhall prove

This ring was ever hers, you shall as easy

Prove that I husbanded her bed in Florence,
Where yet fhe never was.

[Exit Bertram guarded.

SCENE

SCENE V.

Enter a Gentleman.

King. I'm wrap'd in dismal thinking.

Gent. Gracious fovereign,

Whether I've been to blame or no, I know not;

Here's a petition from a Florentine,

Who hath, fome four or five removes, come fhort
To tender it herfelf. I undertook it,

Vanquish'd thereto by the fair grace and speech
Of the poor fuppliant, who by this, I know,
Is here attending: her bufinefs looks in her
With an importing visage; and she told me
In a sweet verbal brief, it did concern
Your highness with herself.

The King reads a letter.

Upon his many proteftations to marry me when his wife was dead, I blush to say it, he won me.

Now is the count Roufillon

a widower; his vows are forfeited to me, and my honour's pay'd to him. He ftole from Florence, taking no leave, and I follow him to this country for juftice: grant it me, o king, in your breaft it lies; otherwife, a feducer flourishes, and a poor maid is undone.

Diana Capulet.

Laf. I will buy me a fon-in-law in a fair, and toll for 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 fuitors:

Go speedily, and bring again the count.

Enter Bertram.

I am afraid, the life of Helen, lady,

Was foully fnatch'd.

Count.

Count. Now, juftice on the doers!

King. I wonder, fir, wives are fo monftrous to you, And that you fly them as you fwear to them; defire to wed. What woman's that?

Yet

you

Enter Widow, and Diana.

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

My fuit, as I do understand, you know,
And therefore know how far I may be pitied.

Wid. I am her mother, fir, whose age and honour

Both suffer under this complaint we bring,

And both fhall ceafe without your remedy.

King. Come hither, count; do you not know these women?

Ber. My lord, I neither can nor will deny

But that I know them: do they charge me further ?

Dia. Why do you look fo ftrange upon your wife?
Ber. She's none of mine, my lord.

Dia. If you fall marry,

You give away this hand, and that is mine;

You give away heaven's vows, and those are mine;

You give away my flesh, which is known mine;

For I by vow am fo embodied yours,

That the which marries you must marry me,

Either both, or none.

Laf. Your reputation comes

Short for my daughter, you are no husband for her. [to Bertram.

Ber. My lord, this is a fond and defperate creature,

Whom fometime I have laugh'd with: let your highness

Lay a more noble thought upon mine honour

Than e'er to think that I would fink 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. Now, good my lord,

Ask him upon his oath, if he does think

He

He had not my virginity.

King. What fay'ft thou to her?
Ber. She's impudent, my lord,

And was a common gamefter to the camp.

Dia. He does me wrong, my lord; if I were so,

He might have bought me at a common price.

Do not believe him. O, behold this ring,
Whofe high refpect and rich validity
Did lack a parallel: yet, for all that,
it to a commoner o'th' camp,

He gave

If I be one.

Count. He blushes, and 'tis his:

Of fix preceding ancestors, that gem

Conferr'd by teftament to th' fequent iffue,

Hath fo been ow'd, and worn. This is his wife;
That ring's a thousand proofs.

King. Methought, you faid,

You faw one here in court could witness it.

Dia. I did, my lord, but loath am to produce
So bad an instrument; his name's Parolles.
Laf. I saw the man to-day, if man he be.
King. Find him, and bring him hither.
Ber. What of him?

He's quoted for a most perfidious flave,

With all the spots o'th' world tax'd and debosh'd,
Whose nature fickens but to speak a truth;

Am I or that or this, for what he'll utter,
That will speak any thing?

King. She hath that ring of yours.

Ber. I think, fhe has; certain it is, I lik'd her,
And boarded her i'th' wanton way of youth:
She knew her distance, and did angle for me,
Madding my eagerness with her restraint;
As all impediments in fancy's course
Are motives of more fancy: and, in fine,
Her in fuit coming with her modern grace,

Subdu'd