King. My honour'd Lady, I have forgiven and forgotten all, Tho' my Revenges were high bent upon him, And watch'd the time to fhoot. Laf. This I must say, But first I beg my pardon; the young Lord Did to his Majefty, his Mother, and his Lady, Of richeft Eyes; whofe Words all Ears took captive; King. Praifing what is loft, Makes the Remembrance dear. Well-call him hither, Gent. I fhall, my Liege. King. What fays he to your Daughter? Have you spoke? Laf. All that he is, hath reference to your Highnefs. King. Then fhall we have a Match. I have Letters fent me, that fet him high in Fame. Enter Bertram. Laf. He looks well on't. King. I am not a Day of Seafon, For thou maift fee a Sun-fhine, and a Hail Ber. My high repented Blames, Dear Sovereign, pardon me, King. All is whole, Not one word more of the confumed Time, For For we are old, and on our quick❜ft Decrees Ber. Admiringly, my Liege. At first I ftuck my Choice upon her, e'er my Heart To a most hideous Object. Thence it came, King. Well excus'd: That thou didst love her, ftrikes fome Sores away To the great fender, turns a fowre Offence, The The last that e'er fhe took her leave at Court, I saw upon her Finger. Ber. Hers it was not. King. Now pray you let me fee it. For mine Eye, While I was speaking, oft was fasten'd to't: This Ring was mine, and when I gave it Hellen, Neceffited to help, that by this Token I would relieve her. Had you that craft to reave her Ber. My gracious Sovereign, Count. Son, on my Life, I have seen her wear it, and fhe reckon'd it Laf. I am fure I faw her wear it. Ber. You are deceiv'd, my Lord, fhe never faw it ; In Florence was it from a Cafement thrown me, Wrap'd in a Paper, which contain'd the Name Of her that threw it: Noble fhe was, and thought I ftood engag'd, but when I had subscrib'd To mine own Fortune, and inform'd her fully, I could not answer in that courfe of Honour As fhe had made the Overture, fhe ceaft In heavy Satisfaction, and would never Receive the Ring again. King. Platus himself, That knows the Tin& and multiplying Medicine, Than I have in this Ring. Twas mine, 'twas Hellen's, That you are well acquainted with your felf, Confefs 'twas hers, and by what rough Enforcement Ber. She never faw it, King. Thou fpeak'ft it falfly, as I love mine Honour; And mak❜ft conjectural 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 my felf, 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, Having vainly fear'd too little. Away with him, Ber. If you fhall prove This Ring was ever hers, you shall as cafie, Where yet she never was. } [Exit Bertram guarded. Enter a Gentleman. King. I am wrap'd in difmal Thinking. Gent. Gracious Sovereign, Whether I have been to blame or no, I know not, Who hath for four or five Removes come short, Vanquish'd thereto by the fair Grace and Speech The King reads a Letter. when his Wife Now is the Count Upon his many Proteftations to marry me, was dead, I blush to say it, he won me. Roffilion 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 Justice: Grant it me, O King, in you it beft lyes, otherwife a Seducer flourishes, and a poor Maid is undone. Diana Capilet. Laf. Laf. I will buy me a Son-in-Law in a Fair, and Toll him for this. I'll none of him. King. The Heav'ns have thought well on thee, Lafen, Enter Bertram. I am afraid the Life of Hellen (Lady) Count. Now Juftice on the Doers. King. I wonder, Sir, Wives are fo monftrous to you, And that you fly them foon as you fwear them Lordship; Yet you defire to marry. What Woman's that! Enter Widow, and Diana, Dia. I am, my Lord, a wretched Florentine, My Suit, as I do understand, you know, Wid. I am her Mother, Sir, whofe Age and Honour And both fhall ceafe without your remedy. King. Come hither, Count, do you know these Women? But that I know them; do they charge me further? Dia. If you fhall marry You give away this hand, and that is mine; You give away Heav'ns Vows, and those are mine; That the which marries you, must marry me, Laf. Your Reputation comes too short for my Daughter, you are no Husband for her. [To Bertram. Ber. My Lord, this is a fond and defperate 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 lyes. Di |