his trumpets. Sirrah, inquire further after me, I had talk of you laft night; tho' you are a fool and a knave, fhall you eat; go to, follow. Par. I praise God for you.

SCENE

[Exeunt.

III.

Flourish. Enter King, Countefs, Lafeu, the two French Lords, with Attendants.

King.

E loft a jewel of her, our efteem

WE

Was made much poorer by it; but your
fon,

As mad in folly, lack'd the fenfe to know
Her eftimation home.

Count. 'Tis past, my Liege;

And I beseech your Majefty to make it
Natural rebellion, done i'th' blade 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;

Tho' my revenges were high bent
And watch'd the time to shoot.
Laf. This I must say,

upon him,

But first I beg my pardon; the young Lord
Did to his Majefty, his mother, and his lady,
Offence of mighty note; but to himself
The greatest wrong of all. He loft a wife,
Whose beauty did astonish the furvey

Of richeft eyes; whose words all ears took captive;
Whofe dear perfection, hearts, that scorn'd to serve,
Humbly call'd miftrefs.

King. Praifing what is loft,

Makes the remembrance dear. Well-call him

hither;

We're reconcil'd, and the firft view fhall kill

All repetition: let him not afk our pardon.
The nature of his great offence is dead,

M 6

And

And deeper than oblivion we do bury

Th' incenfing relics of it. Let him approach,
A ftranger, no offender; and inform him,
So 'tis our will he fhould.

Gent. I fhall, my Liege.

King. What fays he to your daughter? Have you spoke ?

Laf. All, that he is, hath reference to your Highness. King. Then fhall we have a match. I have letters fent me,

That fet him high in fame.

E

SCENE IV.

Enter Bertram.

Laf. He looks well on't.

King. I'm not a day of feafon,

For thou may'ft fee a fun-fhine and a hail
In me at once; but to the brightest beams
Diftracted clouds give way; fo ftand 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 inftant by the forward top;

For we are old, and on our quick'ft decrees
Th' inaudible and noiselefs foot of time
Steals, ere we can effect them. You remember
The daughter of this Lord?

Ber. Admiringly, my Liege. At first
I ftuck my choice upon her, ere my heart
Durft make too bold a herald of my tongue:
Where the impreffion of mine eye enfixing,
Contempt his fcornful perfpective did lend me,
Which warp'd the line of every other favour;
Scorch'd a fair colour, or exprefs'd it ftoll'n;

Extended

Extended or contracted all proportions
To a moft hideous object: thence it came,
That fhe, whom all men prais'd, and whom myself,
Since I have loft, have lov'd, was in mine eye
The duft that did offend it.

King. Well excus'd:

That thou doft love her, ftrikes fome scores away
From the great 'compt; but love, that comes too late
Like a remorseful pardon flowly carried,

To the great fender turns a fore offence,
Crying, that's good that is gone: our rafh faults
Make trivial price of ferious things we have,
Not knowing them, until we know their grave,
Oft our displeasures, to ourselves unjust,
Deftroy our friends, and, after, weep their duft :
Our own love, waking, cries to fee what's done,
While fhameful hate fleeps out the afternoon.
Be this sweet 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 see our widower's fecond marriage-day:

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

Or, ere they meet, in me, O nature, cease!
Laf. Come on, my son, in whom my
houfe's name
Muft be digefted: give a favour from you
To fparkle in the fpirits of my daughter,
That the 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 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 it Helen,
I bad her, if her fortunes ever flood

Neceffitied to help, that by this token

I would

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

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 she reckon'd it
At her life's rate.

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

Ber. You are deceiv'd, my Lord, she never saw 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 flood engag'd; but when I had fubfcrib'd To mine own fortune, and inform'd her fully, I could not anfwer in that course of honour

As fhe had made the overture, fhe ceaft

In heavy fatisfaction, and would never
Receive the ring again.

King. Plutus himself,

That knows the tinct 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 he 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 disaster.

Ber. She never faw it.

King. Thou speak'st it falsely, as I love mine ho

nour;

And mak'ft conject'ral fears to come into me, Which I would fain fhut out; if it fhould prove That thou art so inhuman-'twill not prove foAnd yet I know not-thou didst hate her deadly,

And

And she 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 easy

Prove that I husbanded her bed in Florence,
Where yet she never was.

[Exit Bertram guarded.

King. "M wrap'd in dismal thinkings.
Gend, Gracious Sovereign,

Whether I've been to blame or no, I know not:
Here's a petition from a Florentine,

* Who hath fome 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 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 proteftations to marry me, when his wife was dead, I blush to say it, he won me.

Now is the Count Roufillon a widower, his vows are forfeited to me, and

Who hath for four or five removes come fhort] We should read, Who hath fome four or five removes come fhort. So in King Lear, For that I am fome twelve or fourteen moonshines

Lag of a brother,

my