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, Howe'er it pleases you to take it so, The ring was never her's. Count. Son, on my life, I have seen her wear it; and she reckon❜d it Laf. I am sure, I saw her wear it. Ber. You are deceiv'd, my lord, she never saw it: 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 engag'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, 'twas Helen's, Confess 'twas hers, and by what rough enforcement 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, My fore-past proofs, howe'er the matter fall, Having vainly fear'd too little.-Away with him;— Ber. If you shall prove This ring was ever hers, you shall as easy Prove that I husbanded her bed in Florence, Where yet she never was. [Exit BERTRAM, guarded. Enter a Gentleman. King. I am wrapp'd in dismal thinkings. Gent. Gracious sovereign, 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, 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 him for this, I'll none of him. : King. The heavens have thought well on thee, La feu, To bring forth this discovery.-Seek these suitors :— Go, speedily, and bring again the count. [Exeunt Gentleman, and some Attendants. I am afeard, the life of Helen, lady, Was foully snatch'd. Count. Now, justice on the doers! Enter BERTRAM, guarded. King. I wonder, sir, since wives are monsters to you, And that you fly them as you swear them lordship, Yet you desire to marry.-What woman's that? 205 Re-enter Gentleman, with Widow, and DIANA. Dia. I am, my lord, a wretched Florentine, Derived from the ancient Capulet; My suit, as I do understand, you know, And therefore know how far I may be pitied. Wid. I am her mother, sir, whose age and honour Both suffer under this complaint we bring, And both shall cease, without your remedy. King. Come hither, count; Do you know these women? Ber. My lord, I neither can, nor will deny But that I know them: Do they charge me further? Dia. Why do you look so strange upon your wife? 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; That she, which marries you, must marry me, 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 Whom sometime I have laugh'd with: let your high ness 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, Till your deeds gain them: Fairer prove your honour, 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, Whose high respect, and rich validity, He gave If I be one. Count. 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. 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. |