The daughter of this lord? Ber. My liege: At first Admiringly, I stuck my choice upon her, ere my heart Since I have lost, have lov'd, was in mine eye 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 Count. Which better than the first, O dear hea ven, bless! Or, ere they meet, in me, O nature, cease! house's name Laf. Come on, my son, in whom my 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 every hair that's on't, Helen, that's dead, Was a sweet creature; such a ring as this, The last that e'er 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? Ber. My gracious sovereign, Howe'er it pleases you to take it so, The ring Count. was never her's. Son, on my life, I have seen her wear it; and she reckon❜d it At her life's rate. Laf. I am sure, I saw her wear it. Ber. 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 King. Plutus himself, That knows the tinct and multiplying medicine, Confess 'twas hers, and by what rough enforcement (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 ho nour; And mak'st conjectural fears to come into me, My fore-past proofs, howe'er the matter fall, Having vainly fear'd too little.-Away with him ;- Ber. If you shall prove This ring was ever hers, you shall as easy Enter a Gentleman. King. I am wrapp'd in dismal thinkings. Gent. Gracious sovereign, 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 King. [Reads.]-Upon his many protestations to marry me, when his wife was dead, I blush to say it, Now is the count Rousillon a widower; he won me. 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 toll him: for this, I'll none of him. King. The heavens have thought well on thee, Lafeu, To bring forth this discovery.-Seek these suitors:Go, speedily, and bring again the count. [Exeunt Gentleman, and some 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, since wives are monsters to you, And that you fly them as you swear them lordship, Yet you desire to marry.-What woman's that? Re-enter Gentleman, with Widow, and Diana. My suit, as I do understand, you know, 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 further? Dia. Why do you look so strange upon your wife? Ber. She's none of mine, my lord. If you shall marry, Dia. You give away heaven's vows, and those are mine; |