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the justices make you and fortune friends; I am for other business.

Par. I beseech your honour, to hear me one single word.

Laf. You beg a single penny more: come, you shall ba't save your word.

Par. My name, my good lord, is Parolles. Laf. You beg more than one word then. Cox' my passion! give me your hand :-How does your drum ?

Pur. O my good lord, you were the first that found me.

Laf. Was I, in sooth? and I was the first that lost thee.

Par. It lies in you, my lord, to bring me in some grace, for you did bring me out.

Laf. Out upon thee, knave! dost thou put upon me at once both the office of God and the devil? one brings thee in grace, and the other brings thee out. [Trumpets sound.] The king's coming, i know by bis trumpets.-Sirrah, inquire further after me; I had talk of you last night: though you are a fool and a knave, you shall eat; go to, follow. [Exeunt. SCENE III.-The same.-A Room in the COUNTESS' Palace. Flourish. Enter KING, COUNTESS, LANEU, LORDS, GENTLEMEN, Guards, &c.

Par. 1 praise God for you.

King. We lost a jewel of her; and our es

teem +

Was made much poorer by it: but your son,
As mad in folly, lack'd the sense to know
Her estimation home.

Count. 'Tis past, my liege :

And I beseech your majesty to make it
Natural rebellion, done i'the blaze of youth;
When oil and fire, too strong for reason's force,
O'erbears it, and burns on.

King. My honour'd lady,

I have forgiven and forgotten all;
Though my revenges were high bent upon him,
And watch'd the time to shoot.

For thou may'st see a sun-shine and a fizi
In me at once: But to the brightest beans
Distracted clouds give way; so stand thou forth,
The time is fair again.

Laf. This I must say,

But first I beg my pardon,-The young lord
Did to his majesty, his mother, and bis 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

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 effect them: You remember
The daughter of this lord?

Ber. 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 indviäg,
Contempt his scornful perspective did tent me,
Which warp'd the line of every other favour,
Scorn'd a fair colour, or express'd it sti’a;
Extended or contracted ali proportions,
To a most hideous object: Thence it care,
That she, whom all men prais'd, and wher
Since I have lost, have lov'd, was in mine eye

The dust that did offend it.

Whose dear perfection, hearts that scorn'd to


Humbly call'd mistress.

King. Praising what is lost, Makes the remembrance dear.--Well, call him hither -

Laf. He looks well on't.
King. I am not a day of season,

Ber. My high-repeuted blames,⚫
Dear sovereign pardon to me.
King. All is whole;

We are reconcil'd, 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 do we bury
The incensing relics of it: let him approach,
A stranger, no offender; aud 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

I have

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

King. Well excus'd:

That thou didst love her, strikes some scores
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 rab

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.

You need not ask here it is.
Reckoning or estimate.
Completely, in its full extent.

So in As you like it to have seen much and to
have nothing, is to have rich eyes and poor hands "
1.e. The first interview shall put an end to all recol
lection of the past.

e. Of uninterrupted rain.

Send forth your amorous token for fair Maodlin :
The main consents are bad; and here we'll say
To see our widower's second marriage-day.
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 home's


Must be digested, give a favour from yon,
To sparkle in the spirits of my daughter,
That she may quickly come. By my old beart,
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. Her's it was not.

King. Now, pray you, let me see it; for me

While I was speaking, oft was fasten'd tol.—
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, te

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
At her life's rate.

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 contained the nake
Of her that threw it: noble she was, 258

I stood engag'd: + but when I had subserib*4

• Faults repented of to the nimest,
tla the sense of nuengaged.

To mine own fortune, and inform'd her folly,
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

Whoever gave it you; Then, if you khów
That you are well acquainted with yourself, +
Confess 'twas her's, and by what tough enforce-


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 cotne,) or sent it us
Upon her great disaster.

Ber. 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 And yet I know not :-thou didst hate 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 bim;

We'll sift this matter further.

-: 09

Ber. If you shall prove

This ring was ever her's, you shall as easy
Prove that I husbanded her bed in Florence,
Where yet she never was.

[Exit BERTRAN, 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


Here's a petition from a Florentine,
Who bath, 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.] 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, Lafeu,

Go, speedily, and bring again the count.

I am afeard, the life of Helen, lady, Was foully snatch'd.

Enter BERTRAM, guarded.

King. I wonder, Sir, since wives are monsters
to you,

And that you by them as you swear them lord-
Yet you desire to marry.-What woman's that?
Re-enter GENTLEMAN, with WIDOW, and

To bring forth this discovery.-Seek these sui

tors :

Count. Now, justice on the doers!


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

[Exeunt GENTLEMAN, and some attend.


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 deuy But that I know them: Do they charge me

further ?

The philosopher's stone. 1. e. That have the proper consciousness of your own actions. Pay toll for him.

2 Post-stages.

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

You give away myself, which is known mine;
For I by vow am so embodied your's,
That she, which marries you, must marry me,
Either both or noue.

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 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 bonour,

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 80,

He might have bought me at a common price.
Do not believe him: Oh! behold this ring,
Whose high respect, and rich validity,
Did lack a parallel; yet, for all that,
He gave it to a commoner o'the camp,
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 riug's a thousand proofs.

King. Methought, you said, You saw one bere in court could witness it. Dia. I did, my lord, but loath am to produce

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King, She hath that ring of your's.
Ber. I think, she has certain it is, I lik'd

And boarded her 'the 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 insuit coming with her moderu grace, t
Subdued me to her rate: she got the ring;
And I had that, which any inferior might
At market-price have bought.

Dia. I must be patient;

You, that 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.

Ber. I have it not.

King. What ring was your's, I pray you? Dia. Sir, much like

The same upon your finger

King. Know you this ring? this ring was his of late.

Dia. And this was it I gave him, being a-bed. .King. The story then goes false, you threw it him Out of a casement.

Dia. I have spoke the truth.

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Dia. Do you know, he promised me riage?

Par. 'Faith, I know more than I'll speak. King. But wilt thou not speak all thou

know'st ?

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 what yet I was in that credit

with them at that time, and 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 canst say they are married: But thou art too fiue | in thy evidence: therefore staud aside.

This ring, you say, was your's?
Dia. Ay, my good lord.

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Re-enter WIDOW, with HELENA.
King. Is there no exorcist
Beguiles the truer office of mine eyes?
Is't real, that I see?

Hel. No, my good lord;
mar-'Tis but the shadow of a wife you see,
The name and not the thing.
Ber. Both, both; O pardon!

King. Take her away.
Dia. I'll put in bail, my liege

King, I think thee now some common casto


Dia. By Jove, if ever I knew man, 'twas you. King. Wherefore hast thou accus'd him all this while?

Dia. Because he's guilty, and he is m guilty;

He knows I am no maid, and he'll swear tot: 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. [Pointing to LaFa. King. She does abuse our ears; to prison with her. Dia. Good mother, fetch my bail.-Stay, royal Sir; [Exit Wow. The jeweller, that owes the ring, is sent for, And he shall surety me. But for this lord, Who hath abus'd me, as he knows himself, Though yet he never harm'd me, bere I quit

him: He knows himself, my bed he hath defil'd; And at that time he got his wife with child: Dead though she be, she feels her young one


So there's my riddle, One, that's dead, is quick: And now behold the meaning.

Hel. O my good lord, when I was like this maid, found you 'wond'rous kind. There is your ring, And, look you, here's your letter; This it sa When from my finger you can get this And are by me with child, &c.-This is dolle ring, Will you be mine, now you are doubly won Ber. If she, my liege, can make me kno this clearly, I'll love her dearly, ever, ever dearly. Hel. If it appear not plain, and prore un Deadly divorce step between me and you!O my dear mother, do I see you living? Laf. Mine eyes smell onions, I shall wee anon :-Good Tom Drum, [TO PAROLLES.] len me a bandkerchief: So, I thank thee :. wait

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me home, I'll make sport with thee: Let thy
courtesies alone, they are scurvy ones.
King. Let as from point to point this story

All is well ended, if this suit be won,
The king's a beggar, now the play is done:


To make the even truth in pleasure flow:-
If thou be'st yet a fresh uncropped flower,
That you express content; which we will
Choose thou thy husband, and I'll pay thy Ours be your patience then, and yours our
With strife to please you, day exceeding




Your gentle hands lend us, and take our hearts.



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,
Resolvedly more leisure shall express :
All let seems well; and, if it end so meet,
The bitter past, more welcome is the sweet.


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THE opinions of commentators are divided upon this play. Hanmer supposes that some particular speeches ar Shakspeare's: Upton, that he had no hand in its production: Theobald considers it one of his worst pieces: Pope decides that the style is more natural and unaffected than our poet's usually was: and Johnson deciares that both in the serious and ludicrous scenes, the language and sentiments are Shakspeare's; and that few of his plays have more lines or passages, which, singly considered, are eminently beautiful. One thing, bewever, appears certain--that this drama was one of his earliest efforts; that it was not very favourably received; and that, being seldom exhibited, it escaped the corruptions and interpolations, to which his man populer performances were subjected. The incidents of the play have not been assigned to any defons source; though it is not improbable that The Arcadia, and the common romances so much in vogue at that period, might have suggested some of them. Dr. Johnson says, that it evinces "a strange mixture of knowledge and ignorance, of care and negligence;" and that "the versification is often excellent--the allusions, learned and just."


DUKE OF MILAN, Father to Silvia.

VALENTINE, Gentlemen of Verona.


ANTONIO, Father to Proteus.
TLURIO, a foolish rival to Valentine.
EGLAMOUR, Agent for Silvia in her escape.
SPEED, a clownish Servant to Valentine.
LAUNCE, Servant to Proteus.
PANTHINO, Servant to Antonio.

LUCETTA, Waiting-woman to Julia.

Servants, Musicians.

SCENE-Sometimes in Verona, sometimes in Milan, and on the Frontiers of Mantua.


SCENE 1.-An open place in Verona.
Val. Cease to persuade, my loving Proteus ;
Home-keeping youth have ever homely wits :
Wer't not, affection chains thy tender days
To the sweet glances of thy honour'd love,
?rather would entreat thy company,

To see the wonders of the world abroad,
ensa living dully sluggardiz'd at home,
Wear out thy youth with shapeless idleness.
ut, since thou lov'st, love still, and thrive
Even as I would, when I to love begin.

Pro. Wilt thou be gone? Sweet Valentine,
adieu !


HOST, where Julia lodges in Milan.

Think on thy Proteus, when thou, haply, secst
Some rare note-worthy object in thy travel:
Wish me partaker in thy happiness,
When thou dost meet good hap; and, in thy


JULIA, a Lady of Verona, beloved by Protess.
SILVIA, the Duke's Daughter, beloved by Fo


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