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SC EN E III.
A ROOM IN THE COUNTESS'S PALACE.
Flourish. Enter King, Countess, Lafeu, Lords,
Gentlemen, Guards, &c.
'Tis past, my liege:
My honour'd lady,
This I must say,
Praising what is lost, Makes the remembrance dear,Well, call him
We are reconcil'd, and the first view shall kill
I shall, my liege.
[Erit Gentleman. King. What says he to your daughter? have you
spoke? Laf. All that he is hath reference to your high
King. Then shall we have a match. I have letters
That set him high in fame.
He looks well on't. King. I am not a day of season, For thou may’st see a sun-shine 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,
All is whole;
The daughter of this lord?
late, Like a remorseful pardon slowly carried, 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, О dear hea
ven, bless! Or, ere they meet, in me, O nature, cease!
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.
Hers it was not. Kiny. 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 Of what should stead her most? Ber.
My gracious sovereign,
Son, on my life,
I am sure, I saw her wear it.
I could not answer in that course of honour
know That you are well acquainted with yourself, Confess 'twas hers, and by what rough enforcement You got it from her: she callid 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 ho
nour; And mak’st conjectural fears to come into me, Which I would fain shut out: If it should
prove That thou art so inhuman, —'twill 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. —
[Guards seize Bertram. My fore-past proofs, howe'er the matter fall, Shall tax my fears of little vanity Having vainly fear'd too little. --Away with him;We'll sift this matter further. Ber.