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Conferr'd by testament to th' sequent issue,
King. Methought you said
Dia. I did, my Lord, but loth am to produce
Laf. I saw the man to-day, if man he be.
Ber. What of him?
King. She hath that ring of your's.
Ber. I think she has; certain it is I lik’d her,
Dia. I must be patient :
Ber. I have it not.
King. The story then goes false, you threw it him
i.e. use me harshly. A phrase taken from the severe methods taken in curing the yenereal disorder,
SCE NE VI. Enter Parolles. Ber. My Lord, I do confess the ring was her's. King. You boggle shrewdly, every feather starts
Is this the man you speak of?
Dia. It is, my Lord.
Par. 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?
Par. Faith, Sir, he did love her; but how?
Par. He did love her, Sir, as a Gentleman loves a woman.
King. How is that?
King. As thou art a knave, and no knave; what an equivocal companion is this?
Par. I am a poor man, and at your Majesty's command.
Laf. He's a good drum, my Lord, but a naughty
Dia. Do you know he promis’d me marriage ?
Par. Yes, so please your Majesty. I did go between them,' as I said : but more than that, he lov’d her; for indeed he was mad for her, and talk'd 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 that would derive me ill-will to speak of; therefore I will not speak what I know.
King. Thou haft spoken all already, unless thou can'st
say they are married : but thou art too fine in thy evidence; therefore stand aside. This ring, you say, was your's ?
Dia. Ay, my good Lord. King. Where did you buy it? or who gave it you? Dia. It was not given me, nor did I buy it. King. Who lent it you ? Dia. It was not lent me neither. King. Where did you find it then? Dia. I found it not. King. If it were your's 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, the goes off and on at pleasure.
King. This ring was mine, I gave it his first wife.
King. Take her away, I do not like her now;
Dia. I'll never tell you.
[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,
[To Bertram. Who hath abus'd me, as he knows himself, Though yet he never harm’d me, here I quit him.
WHAT YOU WILL.
DR. AM AT IS
Ρ Ε R S Ο Ν Α.
ORSINO, Duke of Illyria. Fabian, servant to Olivia. Sebastian, a young Gentleman, bro Malvolio, a fantastical steward to ther to Viola.
Olivia, a lady of great beauty and Curio, s on the Duke. fortune, belov'd by the Duke.
Viola, in love with the Duke. Sir Toby Belch, uncle to Olivia. Sir Andrew Ague-cheek, a foolish
Maria, Olivia's woman. knight, pretending to Olivia. Priests, Sailors, Officers, and other A sea-captain, friend to l'iola. Attendants.
SCENE, a city on the coast of Illyria.
S C Ε Ν Ε
F music be the food of love, play on;
Give ine excess of it; that, surfeiting
The appetite, love may sicken, and so die. “ That strain again ;-it had a dying fall : “ O, it came o'er my ear, like the sweet south, " That breathes upon a bank of violets, “ Stealing, and giving odour. Enough!--no more; 'Tis not so sweet
as it was before.
Gur. Will you go hunt, my Lord ?
Duke. Why, so I do, the noblest that I have.
Enter Valentine. Val. So please my Lord, I might not be admitted, But from her handnaid do return this answer. The element itself, till seven years hence, Shall not behold her face at ample view; But, like a cloistress, she will veiled walk, And water once a-day her chamber round With eye-offending brine; all this to season A brother's dead love, which she would keep fresh And lasting in her sad remembrance.
Duke. O! she that hath a heart of that fine frame, To pay
this debt of love but to a brother, How will the love, when the rich golden shaft Hath kill'd the flock of all affcctions else That live in her? when liver, brain, and heart, Three sov'reign thrones, are all supply'd, and fillid, (0 sweet perfection !), with one self-fame King ! Away before me to sweet beds of flowers ; Love-thoughts lie rich, when canopy'd with bowers.
SCENE II. The freet.
Enter Viola, a Captain, and failors.
Vio. And what should I do in Illyria ?
Cap. It is perchance that you yourself were fav’d.