But first I beg my pardon,-The young lord
Did to his majesty, his mother, and his lady,
Offence of mighty note; but to himself
The greatest wrong of all. He lost a wife
Whose beauty did astonish the survey

Of richest eyes; whose words all ears took captive, Whose dear perfection, hearts that scorned to serve, Humbly called mistress.

King.

Praising what is lost,

Makes the remembrance dear. Well, call him

hither;

We are reconciled, and the first view shall kill

All repetition.2-Let him not ask our pardon:
The nature of his great offence is dead,
And deeper than oblivion do we bury

The incensing relics of it. Let him approach,
A stranger, no offender; and inform him,
So 'tis our will he should.

Gent.

I shall, my liege. [Exit Gentleman. King. What says he to your daughter? Have you spoke?

Laf. All that he is hath reference to your highness. Then shall we have a match. I have letters sent me,

King.

That set him high in fame.

Laf.

Enter BERTRAM.

He looks well on't.

King. I am not a day of season,"

For thou mayst see a sunshine 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.

1 So in As You Like It.—to have "seen much and to have nothing, is to have rich eyes and poor hands."

2 i. e. the first interview shall put an end to all recollection of the past. 3 i. e. a seasonable day: a mixture of sunshine and hail, of winter and summer, is unseasonable.

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 instant by the forward top;
For we are old, and on our quick'st decrees
The inaudible and noiseless foot of time
Steals ere we can affect them. You remember
The daughter of this lord?

Ber. Admirably, 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 warped the line of every other favor;
Scorned a fair color, or expressed it stolen ;
Extended or contracted all proportions

To a most hideous object. Thence it came,
That she, whom all men praised, and whom myself,
Since I have lost, have loved, was in mine eye
The dust that did offend it.

King.

Well excused:

That thou didst love her, strikes some scores away From the great compt. But love, that comes too late, Like a remorseful pardon slowly carried,

To the great sender turns a sour offence,

grave.

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
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.1
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.

1 This obscure couplet seems to mean, that “Our love awaking to the worth of the lost object, too late laments; our shameful hate or dislike having slept out the period when our fault was remediable."

Count. Which better than the first, O dear Heaven,

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 favor 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,1 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 fastened to't.This ring was mine, and, when I gave it Helen, I bade her, if her fortune 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 hers.

Count.

Son, on my life,

I have seen her wear it; and she reckoned it
At her life's rate.

Laf.
I am sure I saw her wear it.
Ber. You are deceived, my lord; she never saw it.
In Florence was it from a casement thrown me
Wrapped in a paper, which contained the name
Of her that threw it; noble she was, and thought
I stood ingaged; but when I had subscribed3
To mine own fortune, and informed her fully,
I could not answer in that course of honor
As she had made the overture, she ceased,
In heavy satisfaction, and would never
Receive the ring again.

King.

Plutus himself,

1 "The last time that ever I took leave of her at court.”
2 Ingaged, i. e. pledged to her, having received her pledge.
3 Subscribed, i. e. submitted.

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,
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 called 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 honor, 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 feared too little.'-Away with him;— We'll sift this matter further.

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 wrapped in dismal thinkings.

Gent. Gracious sovereign, Whether I have been to blame, or no, I know not; Here's a petition from a Florentine,

1 The proofs which I have already had are sufficient to show that my fears were not vain and irrational. I have unreasonably feared too little.

Who hath, for four or five removes,1 come short
To tender it herself. I undertook it,

Vanquished 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 honor'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 2 for this; I'll none of him.

King. The Heavens have thought well on thee, Lafeu,

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 snatched.

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?

1 Removes are journeys or post stages; she had not been able to overtake the king on the road.

2 The second folio reads: "I will buy me a son-in-law in a fair, and toll for him: for this, I'll none of him.”

3 The first folio reads:

"I wonder, sir, sir; wives," &c.

The emendation is Mr. Tyrwhitt's. As in the succeeding line means as

soon as.