too late to pare her nails now. Wherein have you played the knave with fortune, that she should scratch you, who of herself is a good lady, and would not have knaves thrive long under her? There's a quart d'ecu for you. Let the justices make you and fortune friends; I am for other business. Par. I beseech your honour, to hear me one single word.

Laf. You beg a single penny more: come, you shall ha't; save your word.

Par. My name, my good lord, Parolles.
Laf. You beg more than one word then.-
Cox' my passion! give me your hand.-How does
your drum?

Par. O my good lord, you were the first that found me.

Laf. Was I, in sooth? and I was the first that lost thee.

Laf. All that he ishath reference to yourhighness. King. Then shall we have a match. I have letThat set him high in fame. [ters sent me,

Enter Bertram.

Laf. He looks well on't.
King. I am not a day of season,
For thou may'st 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.

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

King. 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
The inaudible and noiseless foot of time
Steals ere we can effect them. You remember

Par. It lies in you, my lord, to bring me in The daughter of this lord? some grace, for you did bring me out.

Laf. Out upon thee, knave! dost thou put upon me at once both the office of God and the devil? one brings thee in grace, and the other brings thee out. [trumpets sound.] The king's coming, I know by his trumpets.-Sirrah, inquire further after me; I had talk of you last night: though you are a fool and a knave, you shall eat; go to, follow. Par. 1 praise God for you. [exeunt. SCENE III. THE SAME. A ROOM IN THE COUNTESS'S

PALACE.

Flourish; enter King, Countess, Lafeu, Lords,
Gentlemen, Guards, &c.

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

Count. 'Tis past, my liege:

And I beseech your majesty to make it
Natural rebellion, done i'the blaze of youth;
When oil and fire, too strong for reason's force,
O'erbears it, and burns on.

King. My honour'd lady,

I have forgiven and forgotten all;

Though my revenges were high bent upon him,
And watch'd the time to shoot.

Laf. This I must say,

But first I beg my pardon.-The young lord
Did to his majesty, his mother, and his lady,
Offence 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. Praising what is lost,
[hither:
Makes the remeinbrance dear.-Well, call him
We are reconcil'd, and the first view shall kill
All repetition. Let him not ask our pardon;
The nature of his great offence is dead,
And deeper than oblivion do we bury
The incensing relics of it: let him approach,
A stranger, no offender; and inform him,
So 'tis our will he should.

Ber. 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 favour;
Scorn'd a fair colour, or express'd it stolen ;
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. Well excus'd:

That thou didst love her, strikes some scores away
From the great compt: but love, that comes too
Like a remorseful pardon slowly carried, [late,
To the great sender turns a sour offence,
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.

Count. Which better than the first, O dear heaven,
Or, ere they meet, in me, O nature, cease; [bless!
Laf. Come on, my son, in whom my house's name
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. Her's 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
Necessited to help, that by this token

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

Ber. My gracious sovereign,

King. Thou speak'st it falsely, as I love mine You give away heaven's vows, and those are mine;

Laf. I saw 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 slave,
With all the spots o'the 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. She hath that ring of yours.

Ber. I think, she has: certain it is, I lik'd her,
And boarded her i'the 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 insuit coming with her modern grace
Subdued me to her rate: she got the ring:
And I had that, which any inferior might
At market-price have bought.

Dia. I must be patient;

You, that 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.

Ber. I have it not.

loved her, for, indeed, he was mad for her, and talked 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 that would derive me ill will to speak of, therefore I will not speak what I know.

King. 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 your's?

Dia. Ay, my good lord.

[you?

King. Where did you buy it? or who gave it
Dia. It was not given me, nor I did not buy it.
King. Who lent it you?

Dia. It was not lent me neither.
King. Where did you find it then?
Dia. I found it not.

[ways,

King. If it were your's by none of all these
How could you give it him?
Dia. I never gave it him.
Laf. This woman's an easy glove, my lord; she
goes off and on at pleasure.

[wife. King. This ring was mine, I gave it his first Dia. It might be your's, or her's, for aught I know.

King. Take her away, I do not like her now;
To prison with her and away with him.
Unless thou tell'st me where thou had'st this ring,
Thou diest within this hour.
Dia. I'll never tell you.
King. Take her away.

Dia. I'll put in bail, my liege.

[tomer.

King. I think thee now some common cus-
Dia. By Jove, if ever I knew man, 'twas you.
King. Wherefore hast thou accus'd him all this

while?

Dia. Because he's guilty, and he is not guilty;
He knows, I am no maid, and he'll swear to't:
I 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 Lafeu.

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?

Par. So please your majesty, my master hath been an honourable gentleman! tricks he hath had in him, which gentlemen have.

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

Par. 'Faith, sir, he did love her; but how?
King. How, I pray you?

King. She does abuse our ears; to prison with
her.

Dia. Good mother, fetch my bail.-Stay, royal
sir;
[exit Widow.

The jeweller, 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:

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

Re-enter Widow, and Helena.
King. Is there no exorcist
Beguiles the truer office of mine eyes?
Is't real, that I see?

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

Ber. Both, both; O, pardon!

Hel. O, my good lord, when I was like this maid, I found you wondrous kind. There is your ring,

King. Let us from point to point this story Ours be your patience then, and yours our parts; Your gentle hands lend us, and take our hearts. [exeunt.

Officers, Soldiers, Messengers, and other Attendants.

SCENE dispersed; in several Parts of the Roman Empire.

ACT I..