Both suffer under this complaint we bring,
And both shall cease, without your remedy.
King. Come [hither], [count; do you] know these women?
Ber. My lord, I neither can nor will deny
But that I know them: do they charge me further?
Dia. Why do you look so strange upon your wife?
Ber. She's none of mine, my lord.
Dia. If you shall marry,
You give away this hand, and [that is] mine;