Is there no exorcist
Beguiles the truer office of mine eyes?
Is't real that I see?
No, my good lord;
'Tis but the shadow of a wife you see —
The name, and not the thing.
Both, both; O, pardon!
O, my good lord, when I was like this maid;
I found you wondrous 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?
If she, my liege, can make me know this clearly,
I'll love her dearly, ever, ever dearly.
If it appear not plain, and prove untrue,
Deadly divorce step between me and you! —
O my dear mother, do I see you living?
Mine eyes smell onions; I shall weep anon: —
Good Tom Drum [to PAROLLES], lend me a handkercher: so, I
thank thee; wait on me home, I'll make sport with thee:
let thy courtesies alone, they are scurvy ones.
Let us from point to point this story know,
To make the even truth in pleasure flow: —
If thou beest 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.
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.