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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 florishes, and a poor maid is undone. DIANA CAPULET.'

La. I will buy me a son-in-law in a fair, and toll for this: 1 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.

I am afeard, the life of Helen, lady,

Was foully snatch'd.


[Exeunt Gen. and some Attendants.

Now, justice on the doers!

Enter BERTRAM, guarded.

King. I wonder, sir, since wives are monsters to


And that you fly them as you swear them lordship, Yet you desire to marry.--What woman 's that?

Re-enter GENTLEMAN with WIDOW and DIANA. Dia. I am, my lord, a wretched Florentine,

I will sell this fellow in a fair, publicly entering in the toll-book the particulars of the sale.'-Malone.

Derived from the ancient Capulet:

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

Wi. I am her mother, sir, whose age and honor Both suffer under this complaint we bring;

And both shall cease,1 without your remedy.

King. Come hither, count: do you know these


Ber. My lord, I neither can nor will deny

But that I know them. Do they charge me farther? Dia. Why do you look so strange upon your


Ber. She's none of mine, my lord.

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.

La. 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 crea


Whom sometime I have laugh'd with: let your


Lay a more noble thought upon mine honor,

Than for to think that I would sink it here.

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King. Sir, for my thoughts, you have them ill to

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Ask him upon his oath, if he does think

He had not my virginity.

King. What say'st thou to her?


She's impudent, my lord;

And was a common gamester 1 to the camp.

Dia. 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 2
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 owed 3 and worn. This is his wife :

That ring's a thousand proofs.


Methought, you said,

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.

1 Gamester, when applied to a female, signified a prostitute.

2 Value.

3 Owned

La. I saw the man to-day, if man he be.
King. Find him, and bring him hither.

What of him?

He's quoted1 for a most perfidious slave,

With all the spots o' the world tax'd and debosh'd;? Whose nature sickens, but to speak a truth.

Am I or that, or this, for what he'll utter,

That will speak any thing?


She hath that ring of yours.


Ber. I think, she has certain it is, I liked her, And boarded her i' 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 3 course Are motives of more fancy; and, in fine, Her insuit coming 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.


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.

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The same upon your finger.

Sir, much like

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.


I have spoke the truth.

Enter PAROlles.

Ber. My lord, I do confess, the ring was hers. King. You boggle shrewdly: every feather starts you.

Is this the man you speak of?


Ay, my lord.

King. Tell me, sirrah, but, tell me true, I charge


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?

Par. So please your majesty, my master hath been an honorable 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


King. How is that?

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