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DIANA. I must be patient. You that have turn’d 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.

BERTRAM. I have it not.

KING. What ring was yours, I pray you?

DIANA. Sir, much like The same upon your finger.

KING. Know you this ring? This ring was his of late.

DIANA. And this was it I gave him, being abed.

KING. The story then goes false you threw it him Out of a casement.

DIANA. I have spoke the truth.

Enter Attendant with Parolles.

BERTRAM. My lord, I do confess the ring was hers.

KING. You boggle shrewdly; every feather starts you. Is this the man you speak of?

DIANA. Ay, my lord.

KING. Tell me, sirrah, but tell me true I charge you, Not fearing the displeasure of your master, Which on your just proceeding, I’ll keep off,— By him and by this woman here what know you?

PAROLLES. So please your majesty, my master hath been an honourable gentleman. Tricks he hath had in him, which gentlemen have.

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