Count. Son, on my life, I've feen her wear it, and the reckon'd it At her life's rate. Laf. I'm fure, I faw her wear it. In Florence wa me, Ber. You are deceiv'd, my Lord, the never faw it was it from a cafement thrown Wrap'd 20076H a paper, which contain'd the name Of her that threw it: (41) Noble fhe was, and thought I food ungag'd; but when I had fubfcrib'd To mine own fortune, and inform'd her fully, In heavy fatisfaction, and would never King. Plutus himself, That knows the tinct and multiplying medicine, That you are well acquainted with yourself, Unless the gave it to yourself in bed, (Where you have never come) or fent it us Upon her great difafter. Ber. She never faw it. King. Thou fpeak'ft it falfely, as I love mine honour; And mak'ft conject'ral fears to come into me, Which I would fain shut out; if it should prove That thou art fo inhuman-'twill not prove foAnd yet I know not-thou didst hate her deadly, (51) noble fhe was, and thought I flood engag'd;-] Ldon't understand this reading; if we are to understand, that the thought Bertram engag'd to her in affection, infnar'd by her charms, this meaning is too obfcurely exprefs'd.. The context rather makes me believe, that the Poet wrote, I flood ungag'd; -noble she was, and thought i, e. unengaged: neither my heart, nor person, dispos'd of. And And she is dead; which nothing, but to clofe More than to fee ring. Take him away, [Guards feize Bertram. My fore-paft proofs, howe'er the matter fall, Shall tax my fears of little vanity, Having vainly fear'd too little. Away with him, Ber. If you fhall prove, This ring was ever hers, you'fhall as eafy Enter a Gentleman.* King. I'm wrap'd in difmal thinkings. Gent. Gracious Sovereign, Whether I've been to blame or no, I know not: Here's a petition from a Florentine, Who hath for four or five removes come fhort The King reads a letter. Upon his many proteftations to marry me, when his wife was dead, I blush to fay it, he won me. Now is the Count Roufillon a widower, his vows are forfeited to me, and my honours paid to him. He ftole from Florence, taking no leave, and I follow him to this country for juftice: grant it me, O King, in you it beft lies; otherwife a feducer flourifhes, and a poor maid is undone. な 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, 91- To To bring forth this discov'ry. Seek thefe fuitors? I am afraid, the life of Helen (Lady), mi a'sde e Count, Now juftice on the doersk 29059H King I wonder, Sir, wives are so monstrous to you, And that you fly them as you fwear to them; -Yet you defire to wed. What woman's that? Dia. I am, my Lord, a wretched Florentine THT Deriv'd from the ancient Capulet; My fuit, as I do understand, you know, Wid, I am her mother, Sir, whofe age and honour 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 fo strange upon your wife? Ber. She's none of mine, my Lord. Dia. If you fhall marry, You give away this hand, and that is mine; You give away heav'n's vows, and thofe are mine; That he, which marries you, muft marry me, Laf. Your reputation comes too fhort for my daughter, you are no husband for her. [To Bertram. Ber. My Lord, this is a fond and defp'rate creature, Whom fometime I have laugh'd with: let your Highness Lay a more noble thought upon mine honour, Than for 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, Then in my thought it lies. Dia. Good my Lord, Afk him upon his oath; if he does think King. What fay't 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 fo, 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 o'th' camp, If I be one. » 1 LA DONUT% and Count. He blushes, and 'tis his : Of fix preceding ancestors, that gem (42) Conferr'd by teftament to th' fequent iffue, Hath it been ow'd and worn. That ring's a thoufand proofs. King, Methought, you said, This is his wife, You faw one here in court could witnefs it. He's quoted for a moft perfidious flave, With all the spots o'th' world, tax'd and debofh'd, (42) Conferr'd by teftament to th' fubfequent iue,] This is only the reading, I think, of the last editor. I might fay, This in Mr. Pope's tar is a verfe,--to return him one of his civilities: but I'll content myfelf with obferving, that all the genuine copies read;, Conferr'd' by teftament to th' fequent issue,] So, before, in this play; ! Indeed, your O Lord, Sir,------is very fequent to your whisping. So, in Troilus and Creffidy; But be thou true, fay I, to fashion in So, in Hamlet, By now, the next day? Was our fea fight and what to this was fequent, non Thou know't already. And in many other inftances, that might be quoted, Which nature fickens with: but to speak truth, King. She hath that ring of yours. Ber. I think, fhe has; certain it is, I lik'd her, Are motives of more fancy: and in tine, Dia. I muft be patient: You, that turn'd off a first so noble wife, (Since you lack virtue, I will lose a husband,) Ber. I have it not. King. What ring was yours, I pray you? Dia. Sir, much like the fame upon your finger. King. Know you this ring? this ring was his of late, Dia. And this was it I gave him, being a-bed. King. The ftory then goes falfe, you threw it him Out of a casement. Dia. I have spoke the truth. Enter Parolles. Ber. My Lord, I do confefs, the ring was hers. King.You boggle threwdly, every feather ftarts you:Is this the man you speak of? Dia. It is, my Lord. King. Tell me, Sirrah, but tell me true, I charge you, Not fearing the difpleasure of your mafter, Which on your juft proceeding I'll keep off; By him and by this woman here, what know you? Par. So please your Majesty, my mafter hath been an honourable |