The inaudible and noiseless foot of time
Steals, ere we can effect them. You remember
The daughter of this lord?

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 stol'n ;
Extended or contracted all proportions,
To a most hideous object: thence it came, [self,
That she, whom all men prais'd, and whom my-
Since I have lost, have lov'd, was in mine eye
The dust that did offend it.

Our rash faults

Like a remorseful pardon slowly carried,
To the great sender turns a sour offence,
Crying, That's good that's gone.
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, bless!

Or, ere they meet, in me O nature cesse! [name
LAF. Come on, my son, in whom my house's
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, b
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

a Which better than the first, &c.] These two lines form part of the King's speech in the original. Theobald made the present arrangement.

b The last that e'er I took her leave at court,-] Which means, The last time that ever I took leave of her at court.

e Ingag'd:] Ingaged is here used to imply unengaged, or disengaged, as the old writers employ inhabited to express uninhabiled.

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
As she had made the overture, she ceas'd,
In heavy satisfaction, and would never
Receive the ring again.

KING.
Plutus* himself,
That knows the tinct and multiplying medicine,
Hath not in nature's mystery more science,
Than I have in this ring: 'twas mine, 't was
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.

BER.

She never saw it. KING. Thou speak'st it falsely, as I love mine

honour:

And mak'st conjectural† fears to come into me,
Which I would fain shut out. If it should prove
That thou art so inhuman,—'t will 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.—
My fore-past proofs, howe'er the matter fall,
Shall tax my fears of little vanity,d
Having vainly fear'd too little.-Away with him;—
We'll sift this matter further.
shall prove

BER.
If you
This ring was ever hers, you shall as easy
Prove that I husbanded her bed in Florence,
Where yet she never was.

(*) Old text, Platus.

[Exit BERTRAM, guarded.

(+) First folio, connectural. (1) First folio, taze.

d Shall tax my fears of little vanity,-] "The proofs which I have already had are sufficient to show that my fears were not vain and irrational, I have rather been hitherto more easy than I ought, and have unreasonably had too little fear."-JOHNSON.

Enter a Gentleman.

Gracious sovereign,

KING. I am wrapp'd in dismal thinkings.
GENT.
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. [Reads.] Upon his many protestations to marry me, when his wife was dead, I blush to say it, he won me. Now is the count Rousillon a widower; 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; for this, I'll none of him. [Lafeu,

KING. The heavens have thought well on thee, To bring forth this discovery. - Seek suitors:

Go, speedily, and bring again the count.

these

[Exeunt Gentleman, and some Attendants. I am afeard, the life of Helen, lady, Was foully snatch'd. COUNT.

Now, justice on the doers!

BER. My lord, I neither can, nor will deny But that I know them. Do they charge me further? [wife? DIA. Why do you look so strange upon your BER. She's none of mine, my lord.

DIA. 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.

LAF. Your reputation [To BERTRAM.] comes too short for my daughter, you are no husband for her.

BER. My lord, this is a fond and desperate creature,

[highness

your

Whom sometime I have laugh'd with: let
Lay a more noble thought upon mine honour,
Than for to think that I would sink it here.
KING. Sir, for my thoughts, you have them ill
to friend,
[honour,
Till your deeds gain them: fairer prove your
Than in my thought it lies!

DIA.

Good my lord,
Ask him upon his oath, if he does think
He had not my virginity.

KING. What say'st thou to her?
BER.

She's impudent, my lord,
And was a common gamester to the camp.
DIA. 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,
gave it to a commoner o' the camp,
If I be one.
COUNT.

He

He blushes, and 'tis it: Of six preceding ancestors, that gem Conferr❜d by testament to the sequent issue, Hath it been ow'd and worn. This is his wife; That ring's a thousand proofs. KING.

Methought, you said, You saw one here in court could witness it. DIA. I did, my lord, but loath am to produce So bad an instrument; his name's Parolles. LAF. I saw the man to-day, if man he be. KING. Find him, and bring him hither. [Exit Attendants. 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.

BER.

b I wonder, sir, since wives, &c.] The old text is, "I wonder, sir, sir, wives," &c. The correction is due to Tyrwhitt. Re-enter, &c.] In the ancient stage direction, "Enter Widow, Diana, and Parolles."

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 infinite cunning 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.

KING. What ring was yours, I pray you?
DIA.
Sir, much like
[of late.

The same upon your finger.

KING. Know you this ring? this ring was his DIA. And this was it I gave him, being a-bed. KING. The story then goes false, you threw it him

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?

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?
[a woman.

PAR. He did love her, sir, as a gentleman loves
KING. How is that?

PAR. I am a poor man, and at your majesty's command.

LAF. He's a good drum, my lord, but a naughty

orator.

DIA. Do you know, he promised me marriage? PAR. 'Faith, I know more than I'll speak. KING. But wilt thou not speak all thou know'st? PAR. Yes, so please your majesty; I did go between them, as I said; but more than that, he 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 yours ?

DIA.
Ay, my good lord.
KING. Where did you buy it? or who gave it

you?

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. KING. If it were yours by none of all these ways,

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.

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

DIA. 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 LAFEU.

b Too fine in thy evidence;] Trop fine, too full of finesse. eCustomer.] Customer was a term applied to a loose woman. Thus, in "Othello," Act IV. Sc. 1:

"I marry her! what? a customer."

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

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

HEL. If it appear not plain, and prove untrue, Deadly divorce step between me and you !O, my dear mother, do I see you living?

LAF. Mine eyes smell onions, I shall weep

anon:

Good Tom Drum, [To PAROLLES.] lend me a handkerchief: so, I thank thee; wait on me home, I'll make sport with thee. Let thy courtesies alone, they are scurvy ones. [know,

KING. Let us from point to point this story To make the even truth in pleasure flow::If thou be'st yet a fresh uncropped flower,

[To DIANA. 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.

(Advancing.)

The king's a beggar, now the play is done All is well ended, if this suit be won, That you express content; which we will pay, With strife to please you, day exceeding day: Ours be your patience then, and yours our parts, Your gentle hands lend us, and take our hearts.

[Exeunt.

(1) SCENE I.-To whom I am now in ward.] The heirs of great fortunes, from the feudal ages down to as late as the middle of the seventeenth century, were, both in this country and in parts of France, under the wardship of the sovereign.

66

(2) SCENE III.-Clown.] "The practice of retaining fools," Douce observes, I can be traced in very remote times throughout almost all civilized and even among some barbarous nations. With respect to the antiquity of this custom in our own country, there is reason to suppose that it existed even during the period of our Saxon history; but we are quite certain of the fact in the reign of William the Conqueror. ***The accounts of the household expenses of our sovereigns contain many payments and rewards to fools both foreign and domestic, the motives for which do not appear, but might perhaps have been some witty speech or comic action that had pleased the donors. Some of these payments are annual gifts at Christmas. Dr. Fuller, speaking of the court jester, whom, he says, some count a necessary evil, remarks, in his usual quaint manner, that it is an office which none but he that hath wit can perform, and none but he that wants it will perform. *** "The sort of entertainment that fools were expected to afford, may be collected, in great variety, from our old plays, and particularly from those of Shakspeare; but perhaps no better idea can be formed of their general mode of conduct than from the following passage in a singular_tract by Lodge, entitled Wit's Miserie, 1599, 4to:-'Immoderate and disordinate joy became incorporate in the bodie of a jeaster; this fellow in person is comely, in apparell courtly, but in behaviour a very ape, and no man; his studie is to coine bitter jeasts, or to shew antique motions, or to sing baudie sonnets and ballads give him a little wine in his head, he is continually flearing and making of mouthes: he laughs intemperately at every little occasion, and dances about the house, leaps over tables, out-skips mens heads, trips up his companions heeles, burns sack with a candle, and hath all the feats of a lord of misrule in the countrie: feed him in his humor, you shall have his heart, in meere kindness he will hug you in his armes, kisse you on the cheeke, and rapping out an horrible oth, crie Gods soule Tum, I love you, you know my poore heart, come to my chamber for a pipe of tabacco, there lives not a man in this world that I more honor. In these ceremonies you shall know his courting, and it is a speciall mark of him at the table, he sits and makes faces: keep not this fellow company, for in jugling with him, your wardropes shall be wasted, your credits crackt, your crownes consumed, and time (the most precious riches of the world) utterly lost. This is the picture of a real hireling or artificial fool." The roader desirous of further information on the duties of the domestic jester will find them pleasantly illustrated in a curious and valuable tract, called Armin's "Nest of Ninnies," 1608; of which a reprint has been made, from the only known copy, for the Shakespeare Society.

(3) SCENE III.-A prophet I, madam.] "It is a supposition, which has run through all ages and people, that natural fools have something in them of divinity; on which account they were esteemed sacred. Travellers tell us in what esteem the Turks now hold them; nor had they less honour paid them heretofore in France, as appears from the old word bênet, for a natural fool.”— WARBURTON.

(4) SCENE III.-One good woman in ten, madam; which is a purifying o' the song.] As Warburton suggested, it is probable the second stanza of the old ballad, which related to the ten remaining sons of Priam, ran :—

"If one be bad amongst nine good,

There's but one bad in ten."

The Countess objects, therefore, that in singing-" One good in ten," the Clown corrupts the song; whereupon he rejoins that inasmuch as the text says nothing whatever about good women, his emendation of "One good woman in ten in reality renders it more complimentary.

(5) SCENE III.-Though honesty be no puritan, &c. &c.] A correspondent in Knight's "Pictorial Shakspere" remarks: "This passage refers to the sour objection of the puritans to the use of the surplice in divine service, for which they wished to substitute the black Geneva gown. At this time the controversy with the puritans raged violently. Hooker's fifth book of Ecclesiastical Polity,' which, in the 29th Chapter, discusses this matter at length, was published in 1597. But the question itself is much older as old as the Reformation, when it was agitated between the British and continental reformers. During the reign of Mary it troubled Frankfort, and on the accession of Elizabeth it was brought back to England, under the patronage of Archbishop Grindal, whose resi dence in Germany, during his exile in Mary's reign, had disposed him to Genevan theology. The dispute about ecclesiastical vestments may seem a trifle, but it was at this period made the ground upon which to try the first principles of Church authority: a point in itself unimportant becomes vital when so large a question is made to turn upon it. Hence its prominency in the controversial writings of Shakspere's time; and few among his audience would be likely to miss an allusion to a subject fiercely debated at Paul's Cross and elsewhere."

(6) SCENE III.—

-My father left me some prescriptions
Of rare and prov'd effects.]

The text exhibits a very early and curious instance of the use of the word "Prescription" as a medical formula, for which it was not generally current until the close of the seventeenth century. Previously to that time, the ordinary expression was "Recipe;" but in 1599 Bishop Hall employs both words in connexion, showing that they were to be regarded as synonymous:

"And give a dose for everie disease

In Prescripts long, and endless Recipes." Satires, IV. B. 3. Dryden does the same also, in his Thirteenth Epistle, in which he likewise alludes to the custom of preserving such papers,

"From files a random Recipe they take,

And many deaths of one Prescription make." In this manner the Hon. Robert Boyle appears to have made it his practice to preserve methodically all the recipes which had been written for himself in any sickness; one of his Occasional Reflections being on "his reviewing and tacking together the several bills filed in the apothecary's shop.'

The practice was probably commenced at an early period of the history of medicine, and was continued in family recipe books, especially in country places, throughout the