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 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?

Dia.

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.

I found it not.

King. Where did you find it then?

Dia.

King.

If it were yours by none of all these ways,
How could you give it him?

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 hers, for aught 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.

Dia.

King. Take her away.

I'll never tell you.

I'll put in bail, my liege.

Dia.
King. I think thee now some common customer.

Dia. By Jove, if ever I knew man, 't was you.

King. Wherefore hast thou accus'd him all this while?
Dia. 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.

[Pointing to LAFEU.
King. She does abuse our ears; to prison with her.
Dia. 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 abus'd me, as he knows himself,
Though yet he never harm'd me, here 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 kick;
So there's my riddle, One, that's dead, is quick;
And now behold the meaning.

King.

Re-enter Widow, with HELENA.

Is there no exorcist

Beguiles the truer office of mine eyes?

Is 't real that I see?

Hel.

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

Ber.

Both, both; O, pardon!
Hel. O, my good lord, when I was like this maid,
I found you wond'rous 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 are by me with child,' &c.-This is done:
Will you be mine, now you are doubly won?

Ber. If she, 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?

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,

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

(Advancing.)

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.

[To DIANA.

[Flourish.

[Exeunt.

SCENE I.-An Apartment in the Duke's Palace.

Enter DUKE, CURIO, Lords; Musicians attending.·
Duke. If music be the food of love, play on.

Give me excess of it; that surfeiting,

The appetite may sicken, and so die.

That strain again ;—it had a dying fall :

O, it came o'er my ear like the sweet sound

That breathes upon a bank of violets,

Stealing, and giving odour.-Enough; no more;
'T is not so sweet now as it was before.

O, spirit of love, how quick and fresh art thou!
That, notwithstanding thy capacity

Receiveth as the sea, nought enters there,
Of what validity and pitch soe'er,
But falls into abatement and low price,

Even in a minute! so full of shapes is fancy,
That it alone is high-fantastical.

Cur. Will you go hunt, my lord?

Duke.

Cur.

What, Curio?

The hart.