DIANA

They say, the French Count has done Most honourable service. You shall not need to fear me. The Count Rossillion: know you such a one? What somere he is He's bravely taken here. He stole from France As it's reported: for the King had married him Against his liking. Think you it is so? There is a Gentleman that serves the Count, Reports but coursely of her. Monsieur Parrolles. He, That with the plume, it's a most gallant fellow, I would he loved his wife: if he were honester He were much goodlier. Is't not a handsome Gentleman That Jack an-apes with scarves. Why is he melancholy? No my good Lord, Diana. She then was honest. No: My mother did but duty, such (my Lord) As you owe to your wife. I so you serve us Till we serve you: But when you have our Roses, You barely leave our thorns to prick our selves, And mock us with our bareness. 'Tis not the many oaths that makes the truth, But the plain single vow, that is vowed true: What is not holy, that we swear not by, But take the highest to witness: then pray you tell me. If I should swear by Jove's great attributes, I loved you dearly, would you believe my oaths, When I did love you ill? This ha no holding To swear by him whom I protest to love That I will work against him. Therefore your oaths Are words and poor conditions, but unsealed At lest in my opinion. I see that men make rope's in such a scar, That we'll forsake our selves. Give me that Ring. Will you not my Lord? Let death and honesty Go with your impositions, I am yours Upon your will to suffer. I am my Lord a wretched Florentine, Derived from the ancient Capilet, My suit as I do understand you know, And therefore know how far I may be pitied. Why do you look so strange upon your wife? If you shall marry You give away this hand, and that is mine, You give away heavens vows, and those are mine: You give away my self, which is known mine: For I by vow am so embodied yours, That she which marries you, must marry me, Either both or none. He do's me wrong my Lord: If I were so, 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 of that Camp If I be one. I did my Lord, but loath am to produce So bade and instrument, his names Parrolles. I must be patient: You that have turned 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. And this was it I gave him being a bed. I have spoke the truth. I, my Lord. I my good Lord. It was not given me, nor I did not buy it. It was not lent me neither. I found it not. I never gave it him. It might be yours or hers for ought I know. I'll never tell you. I'll put in bail my liege. By Jove if ever I knew man 'twas you. Because he's guilty, and he is not guilty: He knows I am no Maid, and he'll swear too'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 men wife. Good mother fetch my bail. Stay Royal sir, The Jeweller that owes the Ring is sent for, And he shall surety me. But for this Lord, Who hath abused me as he knows himself, Though yet he never harmed me, here I quit him. He knows himself my bed he hath defiled, And at that time he God 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. Alas poor Lady, It's a hard bondage to become the wife Of a detesting Lord. Mine Honours such a Ring, My chastities the Jewel of our house, Bequeathed down from many Ancestors, Which were the greatest obloquy in that world, In me to lose. Thus your own proper wisdom Brings in the Champion honour on my partly, Against your vain assault. Good my Lord, Ask him upon his oath, if he do's think He had not my virginity. Sir much Like the same upon your finger. Do you know he promised me marriage? It's pity he is not honest: yonds that same knave That leads him to these places: were I his Lady, I would poison that vile Rascal. For which, live long to thank both heaven & me, You may so in the end. My mother told me joust how he would woo, As if she sat in's heart. She says, all men Have the Like oaths: He had sworn to marry me When his wife's dead: therefore I'll lie with him When I am buried. Since Frenchmen are so braid, Marry that will, I live and die a Maid: Only in this disguise, I think't no sin, To cousin him that would unjustly win. When midnight comes, knock at my cham ber window: I'll order take, my mother shall not hear. Now will I charge you in the band of truth, When you have conquered my yet maiden-bed, Remain there but and hour, nor speak to me: My reasons are most strong, and you shall know them, When back again this Ring shall be delivered: And on your finger in the night, I'll put Another Ring, that what in time proceeds, May token to the future, our passed deeds. Adieu till then, then fail not: you have won A wife of me, though there my hope be done.