[Flourish. Enter King, old Lady Countess...

[Flourish. Enter King, old Lady Countess, Lafew, the two French Lords, with Attendants.]

KING OF FRANCE

We lost a jewel of her, and our esteem

Was made much poorer by it; but your son,

As mad in folly, lack’d the sense to know

Her estimation home.

COUNTESS OF ROUSSILLON

’Tis past, my liege,

And I beseech your Majesty to make it

Natural rebellion, done i’ th’ blade of youth,

When oil and fire, too strong for reason’s force,

O’erbears it, and burns on.

KING OF FRANCE

My honor’d lady,

I have forgiven and forgotten all,

Though my revenges were high bent upon him,

And watch’d the time to shoot.

LAFEW

This I must say—

But first I beg my pardon—the young lord

Did to his Majesty, his mother, and his lady

Offense of mighty note; but to himself

The greatest wrong of all. He lost a wife

Whose beauty did astonish the survey

Of richest eyes, whose words all ears took captive,

Whose dear perfection hearts that scorn’d to serve

Humbly call’d mistress.

KING OF FRANCE

Praising what is lost

Makes the remembrance dear. Well, call him hither,

We are reconcil’d, and the first view shall kill

All repetition. Let him not ask our pardon,

The nature of his great offense is dead,

And deeper than oblivion we do bury

Th’ incensing relics of it. Let him approach

A stranger, no offender; and inform him

So ’tis our will he should.

GENTLEMAN

I shall, my liege.

[Exit.]

KING OF FRANCE

What says he to your daughter? Have you spoke?

LAFEW

All that he is hath reference to your Highness.

KING OF FRANCE

Then shall we have a match. I have letters sent me

That sets him high in fame.

Enter Count Bertram.

LAFEW

He looks well on’t.

KING OF FRANCE

I am not a day of season,

For thou mayst see a sunshine and a hail

In me at once. But to the brightest beams

Distracted clouds give way, so stand thou forth,

The time is fair again.

BERTRAM, COUNT OF ROUSSILLON

My high-repented blames,

Dear sovereign, pardon to me.

KING OF FRANCE

All is whole,

Not one word more of the consumed time.

Let’s take the instant by the forward top;

For we are old, and on our quick’st decrees

Th’ inaudible and noiseless foot of time

Steals ere we can effect them. You remember

The daughter of this lord?

BERTRAM, COUNT OF ROUSSILLON

Admiringly, my liege. At first

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 favor,

Scorn’d a fair color, or express’d it stol’n,

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 OF FRANCE

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 offense,

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.

COUNTESS OF ROUSSILLON

Which better than the first, O dear heaven, bless!

Or, ere they meet, in me, O nature, cesse!

LAFEW

Come on, my son, in whom my house’s name

Must be digested; give a favor from you

To sparkle in the spirits of my daughter,

That she may quickly come.

Bertram gives a ring.

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 e’er I took her leave at court,

I saw upon her finger.

BERTRAM, COUNT OF ROUSSILLON

Hers it was not.

KING OF FRANCE

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?

BERTRAM, COUNT OF ROUSSILLON

My gracious sovereign,

Howe’er it pleases you to take it so,

The ring was never hers.

COUNTESS OF ROUSSILLON

Son, on my life,

I have seen her wear it, and she reckon’d it

At her live’s rate.

LAFEW

I am sure I saw her wear it.

BERTRAM, COUNT OF ROUSSILLON

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 engag’d; but when I had subscrib’d

To mine own fortune, and inform’d her fully

I could not answer in that course of honor

As she had made the overture, she ceas’d

In heavy satisfaction, and would never

Receive the ring again.

KING OF FRANCE

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.

BERTRAM, COUNT OF ROUSSILLON

She never saw it.

KING OF FRANCE

Thou speak’st it falsely, as I love mine honor,

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 further.

BERTRAM, COUNT OF ROUSSILLON

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 guarded.]

Enter a Gentleman, the astringer.]

KING OF FRANCE

I am wrapp’d in dismal thinkings.

GENTLEMAN

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

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.

KING OF FRANCE

Reads a letter.

“Upon his many protestations to marry me when his wife was dead, I blush to say it, he won me. Now is the Count Roussillon a widower, his vows are forfeited to me, and my honor’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 Capilet.”

LAFEW

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

KING OF FRANCE

The heavens have thought well on thee, Lafew,

To bring forth this discov’ry. Seek these suitors.

Go speedily, and bring again the Count.

Exeunt some Attendants.

I am afeard the life of Helen, lady,

Was foully snatch’d.

COUNTESS OF ROUSSILLON

Now, justice on the doers!

[Enter Bertram guarded.]

KING OF FRANCE

I wonder, sir, sith wives are monsters to you,

And that you fly them as you swear them lordship,

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

[Enter Widow, Diana.]

DIANA

I am, my lord, a wretched Florentine,

Derived from the ancient Capilet.

My suit, as I do understand, you know,

And therefore know how far I may be pitied.

AN OLD WIDOW OF FLORENCE

I am her mother, sir, whose age and honor

Both suffer under this complaint we bring,

And both shall cease, without your remedy.

KING OF FRANCE

Come hither, Count, do you know these women?

BERTRAM, COUNT OF ROUSSILLON

My lord, I neither can nor will deny

But that I know them. Do they charge me further?

DIANA

Why do you look so strange upon your wife?

BERTRAM, COUNT OF ROUSSILLON

She’s none of mine, my lord.

DIANA 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.

LAFEW

Your reputation comes too short for my daughter, you are no husband for her.

BERTRAM, COUNT OF ROUSSILLON

My lord, this is a fond and desp’rate creature,

Whom sometime I have laugh’d with. Let your Highness

Lay a more noble thought upon mine honor

Than for to think that I would sink it here.

KING OF FRANCE

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

Till your deeds gain them; fairer prove your honor

Than in my thought it lies.

DIANA

Good my lord,

Ask him upon his oath, if he does think

He had not my virginity.

KING OF FRANCE

What say’st thou to her?

BERTRAM, COUNT OF ROUSSILLON

She’s impudent, my lord,

And was a common gamester to the camp.

DIANA

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,

Whose high respect and rich validity

Did lack a parallel; yet for all that

He gave it to a commoner a’ th’ camp,

If I be one.

COUNTESS OF ROUSSILLON

He blushes, and ’tis hit.

Of six preceding ancestors, that gem,

Conferr’d by testament to th’ sequent issue,

Hath it been owed and worn. This is his wife,

That ring’s a thousand proofs.

KING OF FRANCE

Methought you said

You saw one here in court could witness it.

DIANA

I did, my lord, but loath am to produce

So bad an instrument. His name’s Parolles.

LAFEW

I saw the man today, if man he be.

KING OF FRANCE

Find him, and bring him hither.

[Exit an Attendant.]

BERTRAM, COUNT OF ROUSSILLON

What of him?

He’s quoted for a most perfidious slave,

With all the spots a’ th’ world tax’d and debosh’d,

Whose nature sickens but to speak a truth.

Am I or that or this for what he’ll utter,

That will speak any thing?

KING OF FRANCE

She hath that ring of yours.

BERTRAM, COUNT OF ROUSSILLON

I think she 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 inf’nite cunning, with her modern grace,

Subdu’d me to her rate. She got the ring,

And I had that which any inferior might

At market-price have bought.

DIANA

I must be patient.

You that have turn’d off a first so noble wife,

May justly diet me. I pray you yet

(Since you lack virtue, I will lose a husband)

Send for your ring, I will return it home,

And give me mine again.

BERTRAM, COUNT OF ROUSSILLON

I have it not.

KING OF FRANCE

What ring was yours, I pray you?

DIANA

Sir, much like

The same upon your finger.

KING OF FRANCE

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

DIANA

And this was it I gave him, being a-bed.

KING OF FRANCE

The story then goes false, you threw it him

Out of a casement.

DIANA

I have spoke the truth.

[Enter Parolles.]

BERTRAM, COUNT OF ROUSSILLON

My lord, I do confess the ring was hers.

KING OF FRANCE

You boggle shrewdly, every feather starts you.

Is this the man you speak of?

DIANA

Ay, my lord.

KING OF FRANCE

Tell me, sirrah—but tell me true, I charge you,

Not fearing the displeasure of your master,

Which on your just proceeding I’ll keep off—

By him and by this woman here what know you?

PAROLLES

So please your Majesty, my master hath been an honorable gentleman. Tricks he hath had in him, which gentlemen have.

KING OF FRANCE

Come, come, to th’ purpose. Did he love this woman?

PAROLLES

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

KING OF FRANCE

How, I pray you?

PAROLLES

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

KING OF FRANCE

How is that?

PAROLLES

He lov’d her, sir, and lov’d her not.

KING OF FRANCE

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

PAROLLES

I am a poor man, and at your Majesty’s command.

LAFEW

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

DIANA

Do you know he promis’d me marriage?

PAROLLES

Faith, I know more than I’ll speak.

KING OF FRANCE

But wilt thou not speak all thou know’st?

PAROLLES

Yes, so please your Majesty. I did go between them as I said, but more than that, he lov’d her, for indeed he was mad for her, and talk’d of Satan and of Limbo and of Furies and I know not what. Yet I was in that credit with them at that time that I knew of their going to bed, and of other motions, as promising her marriage, and things which would derive me ill will to speak of; therefore I will not speak what I know.

KING OF FRANCE

Thou hast spoken all already, unless thou canst say they are married. But thou art too fine in thy evidence, therefore stand aside.

This ring you say was yours?

DIANA

Ay, my good lord.

KING OF FRANCE

Where did you buy it? Or who gave it you?

DIANA

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

KING OF FRANCE

Who lent it you?

DIANA

It was not lent me neither.

KING OF FRANCE

Where did you find it then?

DIANA

I found it not.

KING OF FRANCE

If it were yours by none of all these ways,

How could you give it him?

DIANA

I never gave it him.

LAFEW

This woman’s an easy glove, my lord, she goes off and on at pleasure.

KING OF FRANCE

This ring was mine, I gave it his first wife.

DIANA

It might be yours or hers for aught I know.

KING OF FRANCE

Take her away, I do not like her now,

To prison with her; and away with him.

Unless thou tell’st me where thou hadst this ring,

Thou diest within this hour.

DIANA

I’ll never tell you.

KING OF FRANCE

Take her away.

DIANA

I’ll put in bail, my liege.

KING OF FRANCE

I think thee now some common customer.

DIANA

By Jove, if ever I knew man, ’twas you.

KING OF FRANCE

Wherefore hast thou accus’d him all this while?

DIANA

Because he’s guilty, and he is not guilty.

He knows I am no maid, and he’ll swear to’t;

I’ll swear I am a maid, and he knows not.

Great King, I am no strumpet, by my life;

I am either maid, or else this old man’s wife.

[Pointing to Lafew.]

KING OF FRANCE

She does abuse our ears. To prison with her!

DIANA

Good mother, fetch my bail.

[Exit Widow.]

Stay, royal sir.

The jeweler that owes the ring is sent for,

And he shall surety me. But for this lord,

Who hath abus’d me, as he knows himself,

Though yet he never harm’d me, here I quit him.

He knows himself my bed he hath defil’d,

And at that time he got his wife with child.

Dead though she be, she feels her young one kick.

So there’s my riddle: one that’s dead is quick—

And now behold the meaning.

[Enter Widow and Helena.]

KING OF FRANCE

Is there no exorcist

Beguiles the truer office of mine eyes?

Is’t real that I see?

HELENA

No, my good lord,

’Tis but the shadow of a wife you see,

The name, and not the thing.

BERTRAM, COUNT OF ROUSSILLON

Both, both. O, pardon!

HELENA

O my good lord, when I was like this maid,

I found you wondrous kind. There is your ring,

And look you, here’s your letter. This it says:

“When from my finger you can get this ring,

And are by me with child, etc.” This is done.

Will you be mine now you are doubly won?

BERTRAM, COUNT OF ROUSSILLON

If she, my liege, can make me know this clearly,

I’ll love her dearly, ever, ever dearly.

HELENA

If it appear not plain and prove untrue,

Deadly divorce step between me and you!

O my dear mother, do I see you living?

LAFEW

Mine eyes smell onions, I shall weep anon.

[To Parolles.]

Good Tom Drum, lend me a handkercher. So, I thank thee; wait on me home, I’ll make sport with thee. Let thy curtsies alone, they are scurvy ones.

KING OF FRANCE

Let us from point to point this story know,

To make the even truth in pleasure flow.

[To Diana.]

If thou beest yet a fresh uncropped flower,

Choose thou thy husband, and I’ll pay thy dower,

For I can guess that by thy honest aid

Thou kept’st a wife herself, thyself a maid.

Of that and all the progress, more and less,

Resolvedly more leisure shall express.

All yet seems well, and if it end so meet,

The bitter past, more welcome is the sweet.

[Flourish.]

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