1    We lost a jewel of her; and our esteem
2    Was made much poorer by it: but your son,
3    As mad in folly, lack'd the sense to know
4    Her estimation home.

5    'Tis past, my liege;
6    And I beseech your majesty to make it
7    Natural rebellion, done i' the blaze of youth;
8    When oil and fire, too strong for reason's force,
9    O'erbears it and burns on.

10   My honour'd lady,
11   I have forgiven and forgotten all;
12   Though my revenges were high bent upon him,
13   And watch'd the time to shoot.

14   This I must say,
15   But first I beg my pardon, the young lord
16   Did to his majesty, his mother and his lady
17   Offence of mighty note; but to himself
18   The greatest wrong of all. He lost a wife
19   Whose beauty did astonish the survey
20   Of richest eyes, whose words all ears took captive,
21   Whose dear perfection hearts that scorn'd to serve
22   Humbly call'd mistress.

23   Praising what is lost
24   Makes the remembrance dear. Well, call him hither;
25   We are reconciled, and the first view shall kill
26   All repetition: let him not ask our pardon;
27   The nature of his great offence is dead,
28   And deeper than oblivion we do bury
29   The incensing relics of it: let him approach,
30   A stranger, no offender; and inform him
31   So 'tis our will he should.

32   I shall, my liege.

33   What says he to your daughter? have you spoke?

34   All that he is hath reference to your highness.

35   Then shall we have a match. I have letters sent me
36   That set him high in fame.

37   He looks well on't.

38   I am not a day of season,
39   For thou mayst see a sunshine and a hail
40   In me at once: but to the brightest beams
41   Distracted clouds give way; so stand thou forth;
42   The time is fair again.

43   My high-repented blames,
44   Dear sovereign, pardon to me.

45   All is whole;
46   Not one word more of the consumed time.
47   Let's take the instant by the forward top;
48   For we are old, and on our quick'st decrees
49   The inaudible and noiseless foot of Time
50   Steals ere we can effect them. You remember
51   The daughter of this lord?

52   Admiringly, my liege, at first
53   I stuck my choice upon her, ere my heart
54   Durst make too bold a herald of my tongue
55   Where the impression of mine eye infixing,
56   Contempt his scornful perspective did lend me,
57   Which warp'd the line of every other favour;
58   Scorn'd a fair colour, or express'd it stolen;
59   Extended or contracted all proportions
60   To a most hideous object: thence it came
61   That she whom all men praised and whom myself,
62   Since I have lost, have loved, was in mine eye
63   The dust that did offend it.

64   Well excused:
65   That thou didst love her, strikes some scores away
66   From the great compt: but love that comes too late,
67   Like a remorseful pardon slowly carried,
68   To the great sender turns a sour offence,
69   Crying, 'That's good that's gone.' Our rash faults
70   Make trivial price of serious things we have,
71   Not knowing them until we know their grave:
72   Oft our displeasures, to ourselves unjust,
73   Destroy our friends and after weep their dust
74   Our own love waking cries to see what's done,
75   While shame full late sleeps out the afternoon.
76   Be this sweet Helen's knell, and now forget her.
77   Send forth your amorous token for fair Maudlin:
78   The main consents are had; and here we'll stay
79   To see our widower's second marriage-day.

80   Which better than the first, O dear heaven, bless!
81   Or, ere they meet, in me, O nature, cesse!

82   Come on, my son, in whom my house's name
83   Must be digested, give a favour from you
84   To sparkle in the spirits of my daughter,
85   That she may quickly come.
BERTRAM gives a ring
86   By my old beard,
87   And every hair that's on't, Helen, that's dead,
88   Was a sweet creature: such a ring as this,
89   The last that e'er I took her at court,
90   I saw upon her finger.

91   Hers it was not.

92   Now, pray you, let me see it; for mine eye,
93   While I was speaking, oft was fasten'd to't.
94   This ring was mine; and, when I gave it Helen,
95   I bade her, if her fortunes ever stood
96   Necessitied to help, that by this token
97   I would relieve her. Had you that craft, to reave
98   her
99   Of what should stead her most?

100  My gracious sovereign,
101  Howe'er it pleases you to take it so,
102  The ring was never hers.

103  Son, on my life,
104  I have seen her wear it; and she reckon'd it
105  At her life's rate.

106  I am sure I saw her wear it.

107  You are deceived, my lord; she never saw it:
108  In Florence was it from a casement thrown me,
109  Wrapp'd in a paper, which contain'd the name
110  Of her that threw it: noble she was, and thought
111  I stood engaged: but when I had subscribed
112  To mine own fortune and inform'd her fully
113  I could not answer in that course of honour
114  As she had made the overture, she ceased
115  In heavy satisfaction and would never
116  Receive the ring again.

117  Plutus himself,
118  That knows the tinct and multiplying medicine,
119  Hath not in nature's mystery more science
120  Than I have in this ring: 'twas mine, 'twas Helen's,
121  Whoever gave it you. Then, if you know
122  That you are well acquainted with yourself,
123  Confess 'twas hers, and by what rough enforcement
124  You got it from her: she call'd the saints to surety
125  That she would never put it from her finger,
126  Unless she gave it to yourself in bed,
127  Where you have never come, or sent it us
128  Upon her great disaster.

129  She never saw it.

130  Thou speak'st it falsely, as I love mine honour;
131  And makest conjectural fears to come into me
132  Which I would fain shut out. If it should prove
133  That thou art so inhuman,--'twill not prove so;--
134  And yet I know not: thou didst hate her deadly,
135  And she is dead; which nothing, but to close
136  Her eyes myself, could win me to believe,
137  More than to see this ring. Take him away.
Guards seize BERTRAM
138  My fore-past proofs, howe'er the matter fall,
139  Shall tax my fears of little vanity,
140  Having vainly fear'd too little. Away with him!
141  We'll sift this matter further.

142  If you shall prove
143  This ring was ever hers, you shall as easy
144  Prove that I husbanded her bed in Florence,
145  Where yet she never was.

146  I am wrapp'd in dismal thinkings.

147  Gracious sovereign,
148  Whether I have been to blame or no, I know not:
149  Here's a petition from a Florentine,
150  Who hath for four or five removes come short
151  To tender it herself. I undertook it,
152  Vanquish'd thereto by the fair grace and speech
153  Of the poor suppliant, who by this I know
154  Is here attending: her business looks in her
155  With an importing visage; and she told me,
156  In a sweet verbal brief, it did concern
157  Your highness with herself.

Reads
158   Upon his many protestations to marry me
159  when his wife was dead, I blush to say it, he won
160  me. Now is the Count Rousillon a widower: his vows
161  are forfeited to me, and my honour's paid to him. He
162  stole from Florence, taking no leave, and I follow
163  him to his country for justice: grant it me, O
164  king! in you it best lies; otherwise a seducer
165  flourishes, and a poor maid is undone.
166  DIANA CAPILET.

167  I will buy me a son-in-law in a fair, and toll for
168  this: I'll none of him.

169  The heavens have thought well on thee Lafeu,
170  To bring forth this discovery. Seek these suitors:
171  Go speedily and bring again the count.
172  I am afeard the life of Helen, lady,
173  Was foully snatch'd.

174  Now, justice on the doers!

175  I wonder, sir, sith wives are monsters to you,
176  And that you fly them as you swear them lordship,
177  Yet you desire to marry.
Enter Widow and DIANA
178  What woman's that?

179  I am, my lord, a wretched Florentine,
180  Derived from the ancient Capilet:
181  My suit, as I do understand, you know,
182  And therefore know how far I may be pitied.

183  I am her mother, sir, whose age and honour
184  Both suffer under this complaint we bring,
185  And both shall cease, without your remedy.

186  Come hither, count; do you know these women?

187  My lord, I neither can nor will deny
188  But that I know them: do they charge me further?

189  Why do you look so strange upon your wife?

190  She's none of mine, my lord.

191  If you shall marry,
192  You give away this hand, and that is mine;
193  You give away heaven's vows, and those are mine;
194  You give away myself, which is known mine;
195  For I by vow am so embodied yours,
196  That she which marries you must marry me,
197  Either both or none.

198  Your reputation comes too short for my daughter; you
199  are no husband for her.

200  My lord, this is a fond and desperate creature,
201  Whom sometime I have laugh'd with: let your highness
202  Lay a more noble thought upon mine honour
203  Than for to think that I would sink it here.

204  Sir, for my thoughts, you have them ill to friend
205  Till your deeds gain them: fairer prove your honour
206  Than in my thought it lies.

207  Good my lord,
208  Ask him upon his oath, if he does think
209  He had not my virginity.

210  What say'st thou to her?

211  She's impudent, my lord,
212  And was a common gamester to the camp.

213  He does me wrong, my lord; if I were so,
214  He might have bought me at a common price:
215  Do not believe him. O, behold this ring,
216  Whose high respect and rich validity
217  Did lack a parallel; yet for all that
218  He gave it to a commoner o' the camp,
219  If I be one.

220  He blushes, and 'tis it:
221  Of six preceding ancestors, that gem,
222  Conferr'd by testament to the sequent issue,
223  Hath it been owed and worn. This is his wife;
224  That ring's a thousand proofs.

225  Methought you said
226  You saw one here in court could witness it.

227  I did, my lord, but loath am to produce
228  So bad an instrument: his name's Parolles.

229  I saw the man to-day, if man he be.

230  Find him, and bring him hither.

231  What of him?
232  He's quoted for a most perfidious slave,
233  With all the spots o' the world tax'd and debosh'd;
234  Whose nature sickens but to speak a truth.
235  Am I or that or this for what he'll utter,
236  That will speak any thing?

237  She hath that ring of yours.

238  I think she has: certain it is I liked her,
239  And boarded her i' the wanton way of youth:
240  She knew her distance and did angle for me,
241  Madding my eagerness with her restraint,
242  As all impediments in fancy's course
243  Are motives of more fancy; and, in fine,
244  Her infinite cunning, with her modern grace,
245  Subdued me to her rate: she got the ring;
246  And I had that which any inferior might
247  At market-price have bought.

248  I must be patient:
249  You, that have turn'd off a first so noble wife,
250  May justly diet me. I pray you yet;
251  Since you lack virtue, I will lose a husband;
252  Send for your ring, I will return it home,
253  And give me mine again.

254  I have it not.

255  What ring was yours, I pray you?

256  Sir, much like
257  The same upon your finger.

258  Know you this ring? this ring was his of late.

259  And this was it I gave him, being abed.

260  The story then goes false, you threw it him
261  Out of a casement.

262  I have spoke the truth.

263  My lord, I do confess the ring was hers.

264  You boggle shrewdly, every feather stars you.
265  Is this the man you speak of?

266  Ay, my lord.

267  Tell me, sirrah, but tell me true, I charge you,
268  Not fearing the displeasure of your master,
269  Which on your just proceeding I'll keep off,
270  By him and by this woman here what know you?

271  So please your majesty, my master hath been an
272  honourable gentleman: tricks he hath had in him,
273  which gentlemen have.

274  Come, come, to the purpose: did he love this woman?

275  Faith, sir, he did love her; but how?

276  How, I pray you?

277  He did love her, sir, as a gentleman loves a woman.

278  How is that?

279  He loved her, sir, and loved her not.

280  As thou art a knave, and no knave. What an
281  equivocal companion is this!

282  I am a poor man, and at your majesty's command.

283  He's a good drum, my lord, but a naughty orator.

284  Do you know he promised me marriage?

285  Faith, I know more than I'll speak.

286  But wilt thou not speak all thou knowest?

287  Yes, so please your majesty. I did go between them,
288  as I said; but more than that, he loved her: for
289  indeed he was mad for her, and talked of Satan and
290  of Limbo and of Furies and I know not what: yet I
291  was in that credit with them at that time that I
292  knew of their going to bed, and of other motions,
293  as promising her marriage, and things which would
294  derive me ill will to speak of; therefore I will not
295  speak what I know.

296  Thou hast spoken all already, unless thou canst say
297  they are married: but thou art too fine in thy
298  evidence; therefore stand aside.
299  This ring, you say, was yours?

300  Ay, my good lord.

301  Where did you buy it? or who gave it you?

302  It was not given me, nor I did not buy it.

303  Who lent it you?

304  It was not lent me neither.

305  Where did you find it, then?

306  I found it not.

307  If it were yours by none of all these ways,
308  How could you give it him?

309  I never gave it him.

310  This woman's an easy glove, my lord; she goes off
311  and on at pleasure.

312  This ring was mine; I gave it his first wife.

313  It might be yours or hers, for aught I know.

314  Take her away; I do not like her now;
315  To prison with her: and away with him.
316  Unless thou tell'st me where thou hadst this ring,
317  Thou diest within this hour.

318  I'll never tell you.

319  Take her away.

320  I'll put in bail, my liege.

321  I think thee now some common customer.

322  By Jove, if ever I knew man, 'twas you.

323  Wherefore hast thou accused him all this while?

324  Because he's guilty, and he is not guilty:
325  He knows I am no maid, and he'll swear to't;
326  I'll swear I am a maid, and he knows not.
327  Great king, I am no strumpet, by my life;
328  I am either maid, or else this old man's wife.

329  She does abuse our ears: to prison with her.

330  Good mother, fetch my bail. Stay, royal sir:
Exit Widow
331  The jeweller that owes the ring is sent for,
332  And he shall surety me. But for this lord,
333  Who hath abused me, as he knows himself,
334  Though yet he never harm'd me, here I quit him:
335  He knows himself my bed he hath defiled;
336  And at that time he got his wife with child:
337  Dead though she be, she feels her young one kick:
338  So there's my riddle: one that's dead is quick:
339  And now behold the meaning.

340  Is there no exorcist
341  Beguiles the truer office of mine eyes?
342  Is't real that I see?

343  No, my good lord;
344  'Tis but the shadow of a wife you see,
345  The name and not the thing.

346  Both, both. O, pardon!

347  O my good lord, when I was like this maid,
348  I found you wondrous kind. There is your ring;
349  And, look you, here's your letter; this it says:
350  'When from my finger you can get this ring
351  And are by me with child,' &c. This is done:
352  Will you be mine, now you are doubly won?

353  If she, my liege, can make me know this clearly,
354  I'll love her dearly, ever, ever dearly.

355  If it appear not plain and prove untrue,
356  Deadly divorce step between me and you!
357  O my dear mother, do I see you living?

358  Mine eyes smell onions; I shall weep anon:
To PAROLLES
359  Good Tom Drum, lend me a handkercher: so,
360  I thank thee: wait on me home, I'll make sport with thee:
361  Let thy courtesies alone, they are scurvy ones.

362  Let us from point to point this story know,
363  To make the even truth in pleasure flow.
To DIANA
364  If thou be'st yet a fresh uncropped flower,
365  Choose thou thy husband, and I'll pay thy dower;
366  For I can guess that by thy honest aid
367  Thou keep'st a wife herself, thyself a maid.
368  Of that and all the progress, more or less,
369  Resolvedly more leisure shall express:
370  All yet seems well; and if it end so meet,
371  The bitter past, more welcome is the sweet.