The Complete Works of William Shakespeare by William Shakespeare (book suggestions TXT) 📖

Contempt his scornful perspective did lend me, Which warp’d the line of every other favour, Scorn’d a fair colour or express’d it stol’n, Extended or contracted all proportions To a most hideous object. Thence it came That she whom all men prais’d, and whom myself, Since I have lost, have lov’d, was in mine eye The dust that did offend it.

KING. Well excus’d.

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, 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.

COUNTESS. Which better than the first, O dear heaven, bless!

Or, ere they meet, in me, O nature, cesse!

LAFEU. 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.

[BERTRAM gives a ring]

By my old beard,

And ev’ry 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.

BERTRAM. Hers it was not.

KING. 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?

BERTRAM. My gracious sovereign,

Howe’er it pleases you to take it so, The ring was never hers.

COUNTESS. Son, on my life,

I have seen her wear it; and she reckon’d it At her life’s rate.

LAFEU. I am sure I saw her wear it.

BERTRAM. 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 med’cine, 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 call’d 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.

BERTRAM. She never saw it.

KING. Thou speak’st it falsely, as I love mine honour; 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.

BERTRAM. If you shall prove

This ring was ever hers, you shall as easy Prove that I husbanded her bed in Florence, Where she yet never was. Exit, guarded KING. I am wrapp’d in dismal thinkings.

 

Enter a GENTLEMAN

 

GENTLEMAN. 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, 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 the letter] ‘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 CAPILET.’

LAFEU. I will buy me a son-in-law in a fair, and toll for this.

I’ll none of him.

KING. The heavens have thought well on thee, Lafeu, To bring forth this discov’ry. Seek these suitors.

Go speedily, and bring again the Count.

Exeunt ATTENDANTS

I am afeard the life of Helen, lady,

Was foully snatch’d.

COUNTESS. Now, justice on the doers!

 

Enter BERTRAM, guarded KING. I wonder, sir, sith wives are monsters to you.

And that you fly them as you swear them lordship, Yet you desire to marry.

Enter WIDOW and DIANA What woman’s that?

DIANA. I am, my lord, a wretched Florentine, Derived from the ancient Capilet.

My suit, as I do understand, you know, And therefore know how far I may be pitied.

WIDOW. 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?

BERTRAM. My lord, I neither can nor will deny But that I know them. Do they charge me further?

DIANA. Why do you look so strange upon your wife?

BERTRAM. She’s none of mine, my lord.

DIANA. If you shall marry,

You give away this hand, and that is mine; You give away heaven’s vows, and those are mine; You give away myself, which is known mine; For I by vow am so embodied yours

That she which marries you must marry me, Either both or none.

LAFEU. [To BERTRAM] Your reputation comes too short for my daughter; you are no husband for her.

BERTRAM. My lord, this is a fond and desp’rate creature Whom sometime I have laugh’d with. Let your Highness 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!

DIANA. Good my lord,

Ask him upon his oath if he does think He had not my virginity.

KING. What say’st thou to her?

BERTRAM. She’s impudent, my lord,

And was a common gamester to the camp.

DIANA. He does me wrong, my lord; if I were so He might have bought me at a common price.

Do not believe him. o, behold this ring, Whose high respect and rich validity

Did lack a parallel; yet, for all that, He gave it to a commoner o’ th’ camp, If I be one.

COUNTESS. He blushes, and ‘tis it.

Of six preceding ancestors, that gem

Conferr’d by testament to th’ 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.

DIANA. I did, my lord, but loath am to produce So bad an instrument; his name’s Parolles.

LAFEU. I saw the man to-day, if man he be.

KING. Find him, and bring him hither. Exit an ATTENDANT

BERTRAM. What of him?

He’s quoted for a most perfidious slave, With all the spots o’ th’ world tax’d and debauch’d, Whose nature sickens but to speak a truth.

Am I or that or this for what he’ll utter That will speak anything?

KING. She hath that ring of yours.

BERTRAM. I think she has. Certain it is I lik’d her, And boarded her i’ th’ wanton way of youth.

She knew her distance, and did angle for me, Madding my eagerness with her restraint, As all impediments in fancy’s course

Are motives of more fancy; and, in fine, Her infinite cunning with her modern grace Subdu’d me to her rate. She got the ring; And I had that which any inferior might At market-price have bought.

DIANA. I must be patient.

You that have turn’d off a first so noble wife May justly diet me. I pray you yet-Since you lack virtue, I will lose a husband-Send for your ring, I will return it home, And give me mine again.

BERTRAM. I have it not.

KING. What ring was yours, I pray you?

DIANA. Sir, much like

The same upon your finger.

KING. Know you this ring? This ring was his of late.

DIANA. And this was it I gave him, being abed.

KING. The story, then, goes false you threw it him Out of a casement.

DIANA. I have spoke the truth.

 

Enter PAROLLES

 

BERTRAM. My lord, I do confess the ring was hers.

KING. You boggle shrewdly; every feather starts you.

Is this the man you speak of?

DIANA. Ay, my lord.

KING. Tell me, sirrah-but tell me true I charge you, Not fearing the displeasure of your master, Which, on your just proceeding, I’ll keep off-By him and by this woman here what know you?

PAROLLES. So please your Majesty, my master hath been an honourable gentleman; tricks he hath had in him, which gentlemen have.

KING. Come, come, to th’ purpose. Did he love this woman?

PAROLLES. Faith, sir, he did love her; but how?

KING. How, I pray you?

PAROLLES. He did love her, sir, as a gentleman loves a woman.

KING. How is that?

PAROLLES. He lov’d her, sir, and lov’d her not.

KING. As thou art a knave and no knave.

What an equivocal companion is this!

PAROLLES. I am a poor man, and at your Majesty’s command.

LAFEU. He’s a good drum, my lord, but a naughty orator.

DIANA. Do you know he promis’d me marriage?

PAROLLES. Faith, I know more than I’ll speak.

KING. But wilt thou not speak all thou know’st?

PAROLLES. Yes, so please your Majesty. I did go between them, as I said; but more than that, he loved her-for indeed he was mad for her, and talk’d of Satan, and of Limbo, and of Furies, and I know not what. Yet I was in that credit with them at that time that I knew of their going to bed; and of other motions, as promising her marriage, and things which would derive me ill will to speak of; therefore I will not speak what I know.

KING. Thou hast spoken all already, unless thou canst say they are married; but thou art too fine in thy evidence; therefore stand aside.

This ring, you say, was yours?

DIANA. Ay, my good lord.

KING. Where did you buy it? Or who gave it you?

DIANA. It was not given me, nor I did not buy it.

KING. Who lent it you?

DIANA. It was not lent me neither.

KING. Where did you find it then?

DIANA. I found it not.

KING. If it were yours by none of all these ways, How could you give it him?

DIANA. I never gave it him.

LAFEU. This woman’s an easy glove,