Crying, that's good that is gone: our rafh faults
Make trivial price of serious things we have,
Not knowing them, until we know their grave.
Oft our difpleasures, to our felves unjuft,

Destroy our friends, and, after, weep their duft:
Our own love, waking, cries to see what's done,
While fhameful hate fleeps out the afternoon.
Be this fweet Helen's knell; and now, forget her.
Send forth your amorous token for fair Maudlin,
The main confents are had, and here we'll stay
To fee our widower's fecond marriage-day :

Count. (25) Which better than the firft, O dear
heav'n, blefs,

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

Laf. Come on, my fon, in whom my houfe's name Muft be digested: give a favour from you To fparkle in the fpirits of my daughter, That the may quickly come. By my old beard, And ev'ry hair that's on't, Helen, that's dead, Was a fweet creature: fuch a ring as this, The laft that e'er fhe took her leave at court, I faw upon her finger.

Ber. Her's it was not.

King. Now, pray you, let me fee it: For mine eye, While I was fpeaking, oft was faften'd to't.

This ring was mine; and, when I

gave

I bad her, if her fortunes ever ftood
Neceffitied to help, that by this token

it Helen,

I would relieve her. Had you that craft to reave her Of what should stead her moft?

(25) Which better than the firft, O dear Heav'n, blefs,

Or, e'er they meet, in me, O Nature, cease!] I have ventur'd, against the Authority of the printed Copies, to prefix the Countess Name to these two Lines. The King appears,. indeed, to be a. Favourer of Bertram:, but if Bertram should make a bad Husband the fecond Time, why should it give the King fuch mortal Pangs? A fond; and difappointed Mother might reasonably not defire to live to, fee fuch a Day: and1 from her the Wish of dying, rather than to behold it, comes with Propriety,

Ber. My gracious Sovereign,

Howe'er it pleases you to take it fo

The ring was never her's.

Count. Son, on my life,

I've seen her wear it, and the reckon'd it

At her life's rate.

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

Ber. You are deceiv'd, my Lord, she never faw it; In Florence was it from a casement thrown me, Wrap'd in a paper, which contain'd the name

Of her that threw it: (26) 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, she ceaft
In heavy fatisfaction, and would never
Receive the ring again.

King. Plutus himself,

That knows the tinet and multiplying medicine,
Hath not in nature's myftery 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 Saints to furety,
That the 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 difafter.

Ber. She never faw it.

(26)

noble She was, and thought

I ftood engag'd;-] I don't understand this Reading; if we are to understand, that She 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,

-noble She was, and thought

I ftood ungag'd;

i. ç. unengag'd: neither my Heart, nor Perfon, difpos'd of.

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 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 the is dead; which nothing, but to close Her eyes myself, could win me to believe, More than to fee this 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,
We'll fift this matter further.

Ber. If you fhall prove,

This ring was ever hers, you fhall as eafie
Prove that I husbanded her bed in Florence,

Where yet fhe never was.

[Exit Bertram guarded.

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 short
To tender it herself. 1 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 fweet verbal brief, it did concern ́-
Your Highness with herself.

The King reads a letter.

Upon his many proteflations to marry me, when his wife was dead, I blush to say it, he won me. Nor is the Count Roufillon a widower, his vows are forfeited to me, and my bonour's 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 lyes; otherwife a feducer flourishes, and a poor maid is undone. Diana Capulet.

Laf.

Laf. I will buy me a fon-in-law in a fair, and toll for him. For this, I'll hone of him.

King. The heavens have thought well on thee, Lafeu, To bring forth this discov'ry. Seek thefe fuitors; Go fpeedily, and bring again the Count.

Enter Bertram.

I am afraid, the life of Helen (lady).....)
Was foully fnatch'd.

Count. Now juftice on the doers!

King. I wonder, Sir, wives are fo monftrous to you, And that you fly them as you fwear to them;

Yet you defire to wed. What woman's that?

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, Sir, whofe age and honour
Both suffer under this complaint we bring,
And both fhall ceafe without your remedy.vd

King. Come hither, Count; do you know thefe we

men?

16

Ber. My Lord, I neither can, nor will, deny But that I know them; do they charge me further? Dia. Why do you look fa ftrange upon your wife? Ber. She's none of mine, my Lord.

Dia. If you fhall marry, b

You give away this hand, and that is mines

1

I

You give away heav'n's vows, and thofe are mine

・

You give away myfelf, which is known mine ouɔ ab*! For I by vow am so embodied yours,

That she, which marries you, must marry me,

Either both or none..

Laf. Your reputation comes too short for my daugh

ter, 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 High

nefs

Lay

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:

Than in my thought it lies!
Dia. Good my lord,

fairer prove your honour,

Ask him upon his oath, if he does think
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 fe,
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.

Count. He blushes, and 'tis his:
Of fix preceding ancekors, that gemm
Conferr'd by Teftament to th' fequent iffue,
Hath it been ow'd and worn.

That ring's a thoufand proofs.

King. Methought, you faid,

This is his wife,

You faw one here in Court could witness it.
Dia. I did, my Lord, but loth am to produce
So bad an inftrument; his name's Parolles.
Laf. I faw 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 fpots o'th' world tax'd and debosh'd,
Which nature fickens with: but to speak 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