Rousillon. A Room in the Countess's Palace.
 Flourish.
 Enter KING, COUNTESS, LAFEU, the TWO LORDS DUMAINE, with ATTENDANTS.

King	We lost a jewel of her, and our esteem
	Was made much poorer by it: but your son,
	As mad in folly, lacked the sense to know
	Her estimation home.

Countess						'Tis past, my liege,
	And I beseech your majesty 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 honoured lady,
	I have forgiven and forgotten all,
	Though my revenges were high bent upon him
	And watched the time to shoot.

Lafeu									This I must say-
	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. Let him not ask our pardon:
	The nature of his great offence is dead,
	And deeper than oblivion we do bury
	The incensing relics of it. Let him approach
	A stranger, no offender; and inform him
	So 'tis our will he should.

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

Lafeu	All that he is hath reference to your highness.

King	Then shall we have a match. I have letters sent me
	That sets him high in fame.

                              Enter BERTRAM.

Lafeu								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.

Bertram							My high-repented blames,
	Dear sovereign, pardon to me.

King									All is whole.
	Not one word more of the consumd 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 effect them. You remember
	The daughter of this lord?

Bertram	Admiringly, 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 favour,
	Scorned a fair colour 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,
	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 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.

Bertram							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 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 reckoned it
	At her life's rate.

Lafeu						I am sure I saw her wear it.

Bertram	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 engaged; but when I had subscribed
	To mine own fortune, and informed her fully
	I could not answer in that course of honour
	As she had made the overture, she ceased
	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 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.

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.
	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.

Bertram								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 guarded.

King	I am wrapped in dismal thinkings.

                             Enter 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,
	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 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 some ATTENDANTS.
	I am afeared the life of Helen, lady,
	Was foully snatched.

Countess						Now justice on the doers!

                        Re-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.

                          Enter WIDOW and DIANA.

								What woman's that?

Diana	I am, my lord, a wretched Florentine,
	Derivd 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	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 laughed 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 sayst 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 hit.
	Of six preceding ancestors, that gem
	Conferred by testament to the sequent issue,
	Hath it been owed 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 today, 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 taxed and debauched,
	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 liked 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
	Subdued 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 turned 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 the 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 loved her, sir, and loved 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 promised 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 talked 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, my lord; she goes off and on at 
	pleasure.

King	This ring was mine; I gave it his first wife.

Diana	It might be yours or hers, for ought I know.

King	Take her away; I do not like her now.
	To prison with her; and away with him.
	Unless thou tell'st me where thou hadst this ring,
	Thou diest within this hour.

Diana								I'll never tell you.

King	Take her away.

Diana					I'll put in bail, my liege.

King	I think thee now some common customer.

Diana	By Jove, if ever I knew man 'twas you.

King	Wherefore hast thou accused him all this while?

Diana	Because he's guilty, and he is not guilty.
	He knows I am no maid, and he'll swear to't;
	I'll swear I am a maid, and he knows not.
	Great king, I am no strumpet; by my life
	I am either maid or else this old man's wife.

King	She does abuse our ears. To prison with her.

Diana	Good mother, fetch my bail. Stay, royal sir;
												[Exit WIDOW.
	The jeweller that owes the ring is sent for,
	And he shall surety me. But for this lord,
	Who hath abused me, as he knows himself,
	Though yet he never harmed me, here I quit him.
	He knows himself my bed he hath defiled,
	And at that time he got his wife with child.
	Dead though she be, she feels her young one kick.
	So there's my riddle: one that's dead is quick,
	And now behold the meaning.

                       Re-enter WIDOW, with HELENA.

King								Is there no exorcist
	Beguiles the truer office of mine eyes?
	Is't real that I see?

Helena							No, my good lord,
	'Tis but the shadow of a wife you see,
	The name and not the thing.

Bertram								Both, both. O pardon!

Helena	O, my good lord, when I 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,
	And is by me with child,' etc. This is done:
	Will you be mine now you are doubly won?

Bertram	If she, my liege, can make me know this clearly,
	I'll love her dearly, ever, ever dearly.

Helena	If it appear not plain, and prove untrue,
	Deadly divorce step between me and you!
	O, my dear mother, do I see you living?

Lafeu	Mine eyes smell onions; I shall weep anon.
	[To PAROLLES.] Good Tom Drum, lend me a handkercher. So, I 
	thank thee. Wait on me home, I'll make sport with thee. Let 
	thy curtsies alone, they are scurvy ones.

King	Let us from point to point this story know,
	To make the even truth in pleasure flow.
	[To DIANA.] If thou be'st yet a fresh uncroppd flower,
	Choose thou thy husband and I'll pay thy dower;
	For I can guess that by thy honest aid
	Thou kept'st a wife herself, thyself a maid.
	Of that, and all the progress, more and less
	Resolvdly more leisure shall express.
	All yet seems well, and if it end so meet,
	The bitter past, more welcome is the sweet.
												[Flourish.

                                EPILOGUE.

King	The king's a beggar now the play is done.
	All is well ended if this suit be won,
	That you express content; which we will pay
	With strife to please you, day exceeding day.
	Ours be your patience then, and yours our parts;
	Your gentle hands lend us, and take our hearts.
												[Exeunt.
