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ness. King. Then shall we have a match. I have letters sent me, That set him high in fame.
Laf. He looks well on't.
King. I am not a day of season, For thou may'st 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.
er. My high-repented blames,” Dear sovereign, pardon to me. ing. All is whole;
Not one word more of the consumed time,
Ber. Admiringly, my liege: at first
Well excus'd :
King. That ion 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.
Count. Which better than the first, O dear
heaven, bless :
Or, ere they meet, in me, 0 nature, cease !
Łof 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. King. Now, pray you, let me see it; for mine
ye, While I was speaking, oft was fastened to't.— This ring was mine; and, when I gave it Helen, Ibade her, if her fortunes ever stood Necessitied to help, that by this token I would relieve her: Had you that craft, to reave her
1) i. e. Of uninterrupted rain. 2) Faults repented of to the utmost. 3) In the sense of unengaged. 4) The philosopher's stone.
Laf. All that he is hath reference to your high- o,what should stead her er
- My gracious sovereign, Howe'er it pleases you to take it so, The ring was never hers.
Count. Son, on my life,
La 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 ingag'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, Whoever gave it you: Then, if you know That you are o acquainted with yourself," Confess 'twas hers, and by what rough enforce
ment 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
pon her great disaster.
Ber. She never saw it.
Enter a Gentleman. King. I am wrapp'd in dismal thinkings. ent. 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, Wanquish'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.J. Upon his many protestations to marry me, when his wife was dead, I blush to say it, he won me. JNow is the count Rousillon a ...; er; his vows are forfeited to me, and my honour's aid to him. He stole so Fiorence, taking no eave, and I follow him to his country for justice:
(5) i. e. That you have the proper consciousness of your own actions. 6) Post-stages.
Dia. I am, my lord, a wretched Florentine,
Of six preceding ancestors, that gem
meant a common woman.
Conferr'd by testament to the sequent issue,
You saw one here in court could witness it.
Dia. I did, my lord, but loath am to produce So bad an instrument; his name's Parolles.
Laf. I saw the man to-day, if man he be.
King. Find him, and bring him hither.
er. What of him?
He's quoted" for a most perfidious slave,
King. She hath that ring of yours
Ber. I think, she has: certain it is, I lik'd her
Dia. I must be patient
B I have it not.
Sir, much like
ate. Dia. And this was it I gave him, being a-bed.
King. The story then goes false, you threw ithin out of a casement. Dia. I have spoke the truth.
Ber. My lord, I do confess the ring was hers.
Is this the man
i. speak of
tou, Not Rao. the displeasure of your master Which, on your just proceeding, I’ll keep off,) y him, and by this woman here, what know you? Par. So please your majesty, my master hath been an honourable gentleman; tricks he hath had in him, which gentlemen have. King. Come, come, to the purpose: Did he love this woman? Par. 'Faith, sir, he did love her; But how? King. How, I pray you ? Par. He did love her, sir, as a gentleman loves a woman. King. How is that? Par. He loved her, sir, and loved her not. King. As thou art a knave, and no knave:What an equivocal companion” is this? Par. I am a poor man, and at your majesty's command. 7) Love's.
§ Her solicitation concurring with her appear. ance of being common. (9) May Justly make me fast. (10) Fellow.
Laf. He's a good drum, my lord, but a naughty Orator. Dia. Do you know, he promised me marriage? Par. 'Faith, I know more than I'll speak. King. But wilt thou not speak all thou know'st 7 Par. 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 talked of Satan, and of limbo, and of furies, and I know not whal: 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 that would derive me ill will to speak of, therefore I will not speak what I know. King. Thou hast spoken all already, unless thou camst say they are married: But thou art too fine! in thy evidence: therefore stand aside.— This ring, you say, was yours ? - Ay, my good lord. King. Where did you buy it? or who gave it you? Dia. It was not given me, nor I did not buy it. King. Who lent it you? Dia. It was not lent me neither. King. Where did you find it then? Dia. I found it not. King. If it were yours by none of all these ways, How could you give it him 7 Dia. I never gave it him. Laf. This woman's an easy glove, my lord; she goes off and on at pleasure. King. This ring was mine, I gave it his first wife. Dia. It might be yours, or hors, for aught I know. King. Take her away, I do not like her now: To prison with her: and away with him.— Tinless thou tell'st me where thou hadst this ring, Thou diest within this hour. Dia. I'll never tell you. King. Take her away. Dia. I'll put in bail, my liege. King. I think thee now some common customer.” Dia. By Jove, if ever I knew man, 'twas you. King. §ore hast thou accus’d him all this w
fo. No, my good lord; 'Tis but the shadow of a wife you see, The name, and not the thing. er. Both, both; 0, pardon! Hel. O, my good lord, whens was like this maid, I found you wondrous kind. There is your ring, And, look you, here's your letter; This it says, When from my finger you can get this ring, ..?nd are by me with child, &c.—This is dones: Will you be mine, now you are doubly won 7 Ber. 1. my liege, can make me know this clearly, I'll love her dearly, ever, ever dearly. Hel. If it appear not plain, and prove untrue, Deadly divorce step between me and you !— O, my dear mother, do I see you living 7 Laf. Mine eyes smell onions, I shall weep anon: –Good Tom Drum, [To Parolles.] lend me a handkerchief: So, I thank thee; wait on me home, I'll make sport with thee: Let thy courtesies alone, they are scurvy ones. King. Let us from point to point this story know, To make the even truth in pleasure flow:— If thou be'st yet a fresh uncropped flower [To Diana. Choose thou thy husband, and I'll pay thy dower; For I can guess, that, by the honest aid, Thou kept'st a wife herself, thyself a maid.— Qs that, and all the progress, more and less, Resolvedly more leisure shall express : All yet seems well; and if it end so meet, The bitter past, more welcome is the sweet. Flourish. .Advancing.
The king's a beggar, now the play is done: All is well-ended, if this suit be won, That you erpress content; which we will pay, With strife to please you, day exceeding day: Qurs be your patience then, and yours our parts;” Your gentle hands lend us, and take our hearts. [Ereunt.
This play has many delightful scenes, though, not sufficiently probable; and some happy charac. ters, though not new, nor produced by any deep knowledge of human nature. Parolles is a boaster and a coward, such as has always been the sport of the stage, but perhaps never raised more laughter, or contempt than in the hands of Shakspeare.
! I cannot reconcile my heart to Bertram; a man noble without
enerosity, and young without truth; who marries Helen as a coward, and leaves her as a profligate: when she is dead by his unkindness, sneaks home to a second marriage, is accused by a woman whom he has wronged, defends himself by falsehood, and is dismissed to happiness. The story of Bertram and Diana had been told before of Mariana and Angelo, and, to confess the truth, scarcely merited to be heard a second time JOHNSON.
(5) i.e. Hear us without interruption, and tak,
our parts, that is, support and defend us.
Wind horns. Enter a Lord from hunting, with
Huntsmen and Servants.
Lord. Huntsman, I charge thee, tender well my hounds: Brach" Merriman,—the poor cur is emboss'd,” And couple Číowder with the deep-mouth'd brach. Saw'st thou not, boy, how Silver made it good At the hedge corner, in the coldest fault 7 I would not lose the dog for twenty pound. 1 Hun. Why, Belman is as good as he, mylord; He cried upon it at the merest loss And twice to-day pick'd out the dullest scent: Trust me, I take him for the better dog. Lord. Thou art a fool; iron, were as fleet, I would esteem him worth a dozen such. But sup them well, and look unto them all; To-morrow I intend to hunt again. 1 Hun... I will, my lord. Lord. What's here? one dead, or drunk? See, doth he breathe 7 2 Hun. He breathes, my lord: Were he not warm'd with ale, This were a bed but cold to sleep so soundly. Lord. Q monstrous beast! how like a swine he
les i Grim death, how foul and loathsome is thine image!
Sirs, I will practise on this drunken man.—
Wherein your coming can assist me much.
Play. Fo not, my lord; we can contain our
selves were he the veriest antic in the world. Lord. Go, sirrah, take them to the buttery, And give them friendly welcome every one: Let them want nothing that my house affords.[Ezeunt Servant and Players.
Sirrah, go you to Bartholomew my §:
And see him dress'd in all suits like a lady:
\!. show her duty, and make known her love? And then—with kind embracements, tempting
sses And with declining head into his bosom,Bid him shed tears, as being overjoy'd To see her noble lord restor'd to health, Who, for twice seven years, hath esteemed him No better than a poor and southsome beggar : And if the boy have not a woman's gift, To rain a shower of commanded tears, An onion will do well for such a shift: Which in a napkin being close convey'd, Shall in despite enforce a watery eye. See this despatch'd with all the haste thou canst, Anon I'll give thee more instructions.— [Erit Servant. I know, the boy will well usurp the grace, Voice, gait, and action of a gentlewoman : I long to hear him call the drunkard, husband; And how my men will stay themselves from laughter, When they do homage to this simple peasant. I’ll in to counsel them: haply,” my presence May well abate the over-merry spleen, Which otherwise would grow into extremes. [Ereunt.
(1) Pitcher. (2) Napkin. (3) Naturally.
(4) Moderation. (5) Perhaps.