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 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? 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 warp'd the line of every other favour;Scorn'd a fair colour, or express'd 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 shame full late 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 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 deceived, 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 engaged: but when I had subscribed 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 ceased 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 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 makest 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 yet she 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] 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, Oking! 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 discovery. Seek these suitors:
Go speedily and bring again the count.
I am afeard the life of Helen, lady, Was foully snatch'd. COUNTESS Now, justice on the doers!
Re-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:
