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+ + + + + Dramatis Personae + + KING OF FRANCE + DUKE OF FLORENCE + BERTRAM, Count of Rousillon. + LAFEU, an old lord. + PAROLLES, a follower of Bertram. + + + Steward + Clown + servants to the Countess of Rousillon. + + + A Page. + COUNTESS OF ROUSILLON, mother to Bertram. + HELENA, a gentlewoman protected by the Countess. + An old Widow of Florence. + DIANA, daughter to the Widow. + + + VIOLENTA + MARIANA + neighbours and friends to the Widow. + + + Lords, Officers, Soldiers, &c., French and Florentine. + + + SCENE Rousillon; Paris; Florence; Marseilles. + + ALL'S WELL THAT ENDS WELL + + + ACT I + + + SCENE I. Rousillon. The COUNT's palace. + Enter BERTRAM, the COUNTESS of Rousillon, HELENA, +and LAFEU, all in black + + + COUNTESS + In delivering my son from me, I bury a second husband. + + + + BERTRAM + And I in going, madam, weep o'er my father's death + anew: but I must attend his majesty's command, to + whom I am now in ward, evermore in subjection. + + + + LAFEU + You shall find of the king a husband, madam; you, + sir, a father: he that so generally is at all times + good must of necessity hold his virtue to you; whose + worthiness would stir it up where it wanted rather + than lack it where there is such abundance. + + + + COUNTESS + What hope is there of his majesty's amendment? + + + + LAFEU + He hath abandoned his physicians, madam; under whose + practises he hath persecuted time with hope, and + finds no other advantage in the process but only the + losing of hope by time. + + + + COUNTESS + This young gentlewoman had a father,--O, that + 'had'! how sad a passage 'tis!--whose skill was + almost as great as his honesty; had it stretched so + far, would have made nature immortal, and death + should have play for lack of work. Would, for the + king's sake, he were living! I think it would be + the death of the king's disease. + + + + LAFEU + How called you the man you speak of, madam? + + + + COUNTESS + He was famous, sir, in his profession, and it was + his great right to be so: Gerard de Narbon. + + + + LAFEU + He was excellent indeed, madam: the king very + lately spoke of him admiringly and mourningly: he + was skilful enough to have lived still, if knowledge + could be set up against mortality. + + + + BERTRAM + What is it, my good lord, the king languishes of? + + + + LAFEU + A fistula, my lord. + + + + BERTRAM + I heard not of it before. + + + + LAFEU + I would it were not notorious. Was this gentlewoman + the daughter of Gerard de Narbon? + + + + COUNTESS + His sole child, my lord, and bequeathed to my + overlooking. I have those hopes of her good that + her education promises; her dispositions she + inherits, which makes fair gifts fairer; for where + an unclean mind carries virtuous qualities, there + commendations go with pity; they are virtues and + traitors too; in her they are the better for their + simpleness; she derives her honesty and achieves her goodness. + + + + LAFEU + Your commendations, madam, get from her tears. + + + + COUNTESS + 'Tis the best brine a maiden can season her praise + in. The remembrance of her father never approaches + her heart but the tyranny of her sorrows takes all + livelihood from her cheek. No more of this, Helena; + go to, no more; lest it be rather thought you affect + a sorrow than have it. + + + + HELENA + I do affect a sorrow indeed, but I have it too. + + + + LAFEU + Moderate lamentation is the right of the dead, + excessive grief the enemy to the living. + + + + COUNTESS + If the living be enemy to the grief, the excess + makes it soon mortal. + + + + BERTRAM + Madam, I desire your holy wishes. + + + + LAFEU + How understand we that? + + + + COUNTESS + Be thou blest, Bertram, and succeed thy father + In manners, as in shape! thy blood and virtue + Contend for empire in thee, and thy goodness + Share with thy birthright! Love all, trust a few, + Do wrong to none: be able for thine enemy + Rather in power than use, and keep thy friend + Under thy own life's key: be cheque'd for silence, + But never tax'd for speech. What heaven more will, + That thee may furnish and my prayers pluck down, + Fall on thy head! Farewell, my lord; + 'Tis an unseason'd courtier; good my lord, + Advise him. + + + + LAFEU + He cannot want the best + That shall attend his love. + + + + COUNTESS + Heaven bless him! Farewell, Bertram. + + + + Exit + + + BERTRAM + + To HELENA The best wishes that can be forged in + your thoughts be servants to you! Be comfortable + to my mother, your mistress, and make much of her. + + + + LAFEU + Farewell, pretty lady: you must hold the credit of + your father. + + + + Exeunt BERTRAM and LAFEU + + + HELENA + O, were that all! I think not on my father; + And these great tears grace his remembrance more + Than those I shed for him. What was he like? + I have forgot him: my imagination + Carries no favour in't but Bertram's. + I am undone: there is no living, none, + If Bertram be away. 'Twere all one + That I should love a bright particular star + And think to wed it, he is so above me: + In his bright radiance and collateral light + Must I be comforted, not in his sphere. + The ambition in my love thus plagues itself: + The hind that would be mated by the lion + Must die for love. 'Twas pretty, though plague, + To see him every hour; to sit and draw + His arched brows, his hawking eye, his curls, + In our heart's table; heart too capable + Of every line and trick of his sweet favour: + But now he's gone, and my idolatrous fancy + Must sanctify his reliques. Who comes here? + Enter PAROLLES + Aside + One that goes with him: I love him for his sake; + And yet I know him a notorious liar, + Think him a great way fool, solely a coward; + Yet these fixed evils sit so fit in him, + That they take place, when virtue's steely bones + Look bleak i' the cold wind: withal, full oft we see + Cold wisdom waiting on superfluous folly. + + + + PAROLLES + Save you, fair queen! + + + + HELENA + And you, monarch! + + + + PAROLLES + No. + + + + HELENA + And no. + + + + PAROLLES + Are you meditating on virginity? + + + + HELENA + Ay. You have some stain of soldier in you: let me + ask you a question. Man is enemy to virginity; how + may we barricado it against him? + + + + PAROLLES + Keep him out. + + + + HELENA + But he assails; and our virginity, though valiant, + in the defence yet is weak: unfold to us some + warlike resistance. + + + + PAROLLES + There is none: man, sitting down before you, will + undermine you and blow you up. + + + + HELENA + Bless our poor virginity from underminers and + blowers up! Is there no military policy, how + virgins might blow up men? + + + + PAROLLES + Virginity being blown down, man will quicklier be + blown up: marry, in blowing him down again, with + the breach yourselves made, you lose your city. It + is not politic in the commonwealth of nature to + preserve virginity. Loss of virginity is rational + increase and there was never virgin got till + virginity was first lost. That you were made of is + metal to make virgins. Virginity by being once lost + may be ten times found; by being ever kept, it is + ever lost: 'tis too cold a companion; away with 't! + + + + HELENA + I will stand for 't a little, though therefore I die a virgin. + + + + PAROLLES + There's little can be said in 't; 'tis against the + rule of nature. To speak on the part of virginity, + is to accuse your mothers; which is most infallible + disobedience. He that hangs himself is a virgin: + virginity murders itself and should be buried in + highways out of all sanctified limit, as a desperate + offendress against nature. Virginity breeds mites, + much like a cheese; consumes itself to the very + paring, and so dies with feeding his own stomach. + Besides, virginity is peevish, proud, idle, made of + self-love, which is the most inhibited sin in the + canon. Keep it not; you cannot choose but loose + by't: out with 't! within ten year it will make + itself ten, which is a goodly increase; and the + principal itself not much the worse: away with 't! + + + + HELENA + How might one do, sir, to lose it to her own liking? + + + + PAROLLES + Let me see: marry, ill, to like him that ne'er it + likes. 'Tis a commodity will lose the gloss with + lying; the longer kept, the less worth: off with 't + while 'tis vendible; answer the time of request. + Virginity, like an old courtier, wears her cap out + of fashion: richly suited, but unsuitable: just + like the brooch and the tooth-pick, which wear not + now. Your date is better in your pie and your + porridge than in your cheek; and your virginity, + your old virginity, is like one of our French + withered pears, it looks ill, it eats drily; marry, + 'tis a withered pear; it was formerly better; + marry, yet 'tis a withered pear: will you anything with it? + + + + HELENA + Not my virginity yet + There shall your master have a thousand loves, + A mother and a mistress and a friend, + A phoenix, captain and an enemy, + A guide, a goddess, and a sovereign, + A counsellor, a traitress, and a dear; + His humble ambition, proud humility, + His jarring concord, and his discord dulcet, + His faith, his sweet disaster; with a world + Of pretty, fond, adoptious christendoms, + That blinking Cupid gossips. Now shall he-- + I know not what he shall. God send him well! + The court's a learning place, and he is one-- + + + + PAROLLES + What one, i' faith? + + + + HELENA + That I wish well. 'Tis pity-- + + + + PAROLLES + What's pity? + + + + HELENA + That wishing well had not a body in't, + Which might be felt; that we, the poorer born, + Whose baser stars do shut us up in wishes, + Might with effects of them follow our friends, + And show what we alone must think, which never + Return us thanks. + + + + Enter Page + + + Page + Monsieur Parolles, my lord calls for you. + + + + Exit + + + PAROLLES + Little Helen, farewell; if I can remember thee, I + will think of thee at court. + + + + HELENA + Monsieur Parolles, you were born under a charitable star. + + + + PAROLLES + Under Mars, I. + + + + HELENA + I especially think, under Mars. + + + + PAROLLES + Why under Mars? + + + + HELENA + The wars have so kept you under that you must needs + be born under Mars. + + + + PAROLLES + When he was predominant. + + + + HELENA + When he was retrograde, I think, rather. + + + + PAROLLES + Why think you so? + + + + HELENA + You go so much backward when you fight. + + + + PAROLLES + That's for advantage. + + + + HELENA + So is running away, when fear proposes the safety; + but the composition that your valour and fear makes + in you is a virtue of a good wing, and I like the wear well. + + + + PAROLLES + I am so full of businesses, I cannot answer thee + acutely. I will return perfect courtier; in the + which, my instruction shall serve to naturalize + thee, so thou wilt be capable of a courtier's + counsel and understand what advice shall thrust upon + thee; else thou diest in thine unthankfulness, and + thine ignorance makes thee away: farewell. When + thou hast leisure, say thy prayers; when thou hast + none, remember thy friends; get thee a good husband, + and use him as he uses thee; so, farewell. + + + + Exit + + + HELENA + Our remedies oft in ourselves do lie, + Which we ascribe to heaven: the fated sky + Gives us free scope, only doth backward pull + Our slow designs when we ourselves are dull. + What power is it which mounts my love so high, + That makes me see, and cannot feed mine eye? + The mightiest space in fortune nature brings + To join like likes and kiss like native things. + Impossible be strange attempts to those + That weigh their pains in sense and do suppose + What hath been cannot be: who ever strove + So show her merit, that did miss her love? + The king's disease--my project may deceive me, + But my intents are fix'd and will not leave me. + + + + Exit + + + + SCENE II. Paris. The KING's palace. + Flourish of cornets. Enter the KING of France, +with letters, and divers Attendants + + + KING + The Florentines and Senoys are by the ears; + Have fought with equal fortune and continue + A braving war. + + + + First Lord + So 'tis reported, sir. + + + + KING + Nay, 'tis most credible; we here received it + A certainty, vouch'd from our cousin Austria, + With caution that the Florentine will move us + For speedy aid; wherein our dearest friend + Prejudicates the business and would seem + To have us make denial. + + + + First Lord + His love and wisdom, + Approved so to your majesty, may plead + For amplest credence. + + + + KING + He hath arm'd our answer, + And Florence is denied before he comes: + Yet, for our gentlemen that mean to see + The Tuscan service, freely have they leave + To stand on either part. + + + + Second Lord + It well may serve + A nursery to our gentry, who are sick + For breathing and exploit. + + + + KING + What's he comes here? + + + + Enter BERTRAM, LAFEU, and PAROLLES + + + First Lord + It is the Count Rousillon, my good lord, + Young Bertram. + + + + KING + Youth, thou bear'st thy father's face; + Frank nature, rather curious than in haste, + Hath well composed thee. Thy father's moral parts + Mayst thou inherit too! Welcome to Paris. + + + + BERTRAM + My thanks and duty are your majesty's. + + + + KING + I would I had that corporal soundness now, + As when thy father and myself in friendship + First tried our soldiership! He did look far + Into the service of the time and was + Discipled of the bravest: he lasted long; + But on us both did haggish age steal on + And wore us out of act. It much repairs me + To talk of your good father. In his youth + He had the wit which I can well observe + To-day in our young lords; but they may jest + Till their own scorn return to them unnoted + Ere they can hide their levity in honour; + So like a courtier, contempt nor bitterness + Were in his pride or sharpness; if they were, + His equal had awaked them, and his honour, + Clock to itself, knew the true minute when + Exception bid him speak, and at this time + His tongue obey'd his hand: who were below him + He used as creatures of another place + And bow'd his eminent top to their low ranks, + Making them proud of his humility, + In their poor praise he humbled. Such a man + Might be a copy to these younger times; + Which, follow'd well, would demonstrate them now + But goers backward. + + + + BERTRAM + His good remembrance, sir, + Lies richer in your thoughts than on his tomb; + So in approof lives not his epitaph + As in your royal speech. + + + + KING + Would I were with him! He would always say-- + Methinks I hear him now; his plausive words + He scatter'd not in ears, but grafted them, + To grow there and to bear,--'Let me not live,'-- + This his good melancholy oft began, + On the catastrophe and heel of pastime, + When it was out,--'Let me not live,' quoth he, + 'After my flame lacks oil, to be the snuff + Of younger spirits, whose apprehensive senses + All but new things disdain; whose judgments are + Mere fathers of their garments; whose constancies + Expire before their fashions.' This he wish'd; + I after him do after him wish too, + Since I nor wax nor honey can bring home, + I quickly were dissolved from my hive, + To give some labourers room. + + + + Second Lord + You are loved, sir: + They that least lend it you shall lack you first. + + + + KING + I fill a place, I know't. How long is't, count, + Since the physician at your father's died? + He was much famed. + + + + BERTRAM + Some six months since, my lord. + + + + KING + If he were living, I would try him yet. + Lend me an arm; the rest have worn me out + With several applications; nature and sickness + Debate it at their leisure. Welcome, count; + My son's no dearer. + + + + BERTRAM + Thank your majesty. + + + + Exeunt. Flourish + + + + SCENE III. Rousillon. The COUNT's palace. + Enter COUNTESS, Steward, and Clown + + + COUNTESS + I will now hear; what say you of this gentlewoman? + + + + Steward + Madam, the care I have had to even your content, I + wish might be found in the calendar of my past + endeavours; for then we wound our modesty and make + foul the clearness of our deservings, when of + ourselves we publish them. + + + + COUNTESS + What does this knave here? Get you gone, sirrah: + the complaints I have heard of you I do not all + believe: 'tis my slowness that I do not; for I know + you lack not folly to commit them, and have ability + enough to make such knaveries yours. + + + + Clown + 'Tis not unknown to you, madam, I am a poor fellow. + + + + COUNTESS + Well, sir. + + + + Clown + No, madam, 'tis not so well that I am poor, though + many of the rich are damned: but, if I may have + your ladyship's good will to go to the world, Isbel + the woman and I will do as we may. + + + + COUNTESS + Wilt thou needs be a beggar? + + + + Clown + I do beg your good will in this case. + + + + COUNTESS + In what case? + + + + Clown + In Isbel's case and mine own. Service is no + heritage: and I think I shall never have the + blessing of God till I have issue o' my body; for + they say barnes are blessings. + + + + COUNTESS + Tell me thy reason why thou wilt marry. + + + + Clown + My poor body, madam, requires it: I am driven on + by the flesh; and he must needs go that the devil drives. + + + + COUNTESS + Is this all your worship's reason? + + + + Clown + Faith, madam, I have other holy reasons such as they + are. + + + + COUNTESS + May the world know them? + + + + Clown + I have been, madam, a wicked creature, as you and + all flesh and blood are; and, indeed, I do marry + that I may repent. + + + + COUNTESS + Thy marriage, sooner than thy wickedness. + + + + Clown + I am out o' friends, madam; and I hope to have + friends for my wife's sake. + + + + COUNTESS + Such friends are thine enemies, knave. + + + + Clown + You're shallow, madam, in great friends; for the + knaves come to do that for me which I am aweary of. + He that ears my land spares my team and gives me + leave to in the crop; if I be his cuckold, he's my + drudge: he that comforts my wife is the cherisher + of my flesh and blood; he that cherishes my flesh + and blood loves my flesh and blood; he that loves my + flesh and blood is my friend: ergo, he that kisses + my wife is my friend. If men could be contented to + be what they are, there were no fear in marriage; + for young Charbon the Puritan and old Poysam the + Papist, howsome'er their hearts are severed in + religion, their heads are both one; they may jowl + horns together, like any deer i' the herd. + + + + COUNTESS + Wilt thou ever be a foul-mouthed and calumnious knave? + + + + Clown + A prophet I, madam; and I speak the truth the next + way: + For I the ballad will repeat, + Which men full true shall find; + Your marriage comes by destiny, + Your cuckoo sings by kind. + + + + COUNTESS + Get you gone, sir; I'll talk with you more anon. + + + + Steward + May it please you, madam, that he bid Helen come to + you: of her I am to speak. + + + + COUNTESS + Sirrah, tell my gentlewoman I would speak with her; + Helen, I mean. + + + + Clown + Was this fair face the cause, quoth she, + Why the Grecians sacked Troy? + Fond done, done fond, + Was this King Priam's joy? + With that she sighed as she stood, + With that she sighed as she stood, + And gave this sentence then; + Among nine bad if one be good, + Among nine bad if one be good, + There's yet one good in ten. + + + + COUNTESS + What, one good in ten? you corrupt the song, sirrah. + + + + Clown + One good woman in ten, madam; which is a purifying + o' the song: would God would serve the world so all + the year! we'ld find no fault with the tithe-woman, + if I were the parson. One in ten, quoth a'! An we + might have a good woman born but one every blazing + star, or at an earthquake, 'twould mend the lottery + well: a man may draw his heart out, ere a' pluck + one. + + + + COUNTESS + You'll be gone, sir knave, and do as I command you. + + + + Clown + That man should be at woman's command, and yet no + hurt done! Though honesty be no puritan, yet it + will do no hurt; it will wear the surplice of + humility over the black gown of a big heart. I am + going, forsooth: the business is for Helen to come hither. + + + + Exit + + + COUNTESS + Well, now. + + + + Steward + I know, madam, you love your gentlewoman entirely. + + + + COUNTESS + Faith, I do: her father bequeathed her to me; and + she herself, without other advantage, may lawfully + make title to as much love as she finds: there is + more owing her than is paid; and more shall be paid + her than she'll demand. + + + + Steward + Madam, I was very late more near her than I think + she wished me: alone she was, and did communicate + to herself her own words to her own ears; she + thought, I dare vow for her, they touched not any + stranger sense. Her matter was, she loved your son: + Fortune, she said, was no goddess, that had put + such difference betwixt their two estates; Love no + god, that would not extend his might, only where + qualities were level; Dian no queen of virgins, that + would suffer her poor knight surprised, without + rescue in the first assault or ransom afterward. + This she delivered in the most bitter touch of + sorrow that e'er I heard virgin exclaim in: which I + held my duty speedily to acquaint you withal; + sithence, in the loss that may happen, it concerns + you something to know it. + + + + COUNTESS + You have discharged this honestly; keep it to + yourself: many likelihoods informed me of this + before, which hung so tottering in the balance that + I could neither believe nor misdoubt. Pray you, + leave me: stall this in your bosom; and I thank you + for your honest care: I will speak with you further anon. + Exit Steward + Enter HELENA + Even so it was with me when I was young: + If ever we are nature's, these are ours; this thorn + Doth to our rose of youth rightly belong; + Our blood to us, this to our blood is born; + It is the show and seal of nature's truth, + Where love's strong passion is impress'd in youth: + By our remembrances of days foregone, + Such were our faults, or then we thought them none. + Her eye is sick on't: I observe her now. + + + + HELENA + What is your pleasure, madam? + + + + COUNTESS + You know, Helen, + I am a mother to you. + + + + HELENA + Mine honourable mistress. + + + + COUNTESS + Nay, a mother: + Why not a mother? When I said 'a mother,' + Methought you saw a serpent: what's in 'mother,' + That you start at it? I say, I am your mother; + And put you in the catalogue of those + That were enwombed mine: 'tis often seen + Adoption strives with nature and choice breeds + A native slip to us from foreign seeds: + You ne'er oppress'd me with a mother's groan, + Yet I express to you a mother's care: + God's mercy, maiden! does it curd thy blood + To say I am thy mother? What's the matter, + That this distemper'd messenger of wet, + The many-colour'd Iris, rounds thine eye? + Why? that you are my daughter? + + + + HELENA + That I am not. + + + + COUNTESS + I say, I am your mother. + + + + HELENA + Pardon, madam; + The Count Rousillon cannot be my brother: + I am from humble, he from honour'd name; + No note upon my parents, his all noble: + My master, my dear lord he is; and I + His servant live, and will his vassal die: + He must not be my brother. + + + + COUNTESS + Nor I your mother? + + + + HELENA + You are my mother, madam; would you were,-- + So that my lord your son were not my brother,-- + Indeed my mother! or were you both our mothers, + I care no more for than I do for heaven, + So I were not his sister. Can't no other, + But, I your daughter, he must be my brother? + + + + COUNTESS + Yes, Helen, you might be my daughter-in-law: + God shield you mean it not! daughter and mother + So strive upon your pulse. What, pale again? + My fear hath catch'd your fondness: now I see + The mystery of your loneliness, and find + Your salt tears' head: now to all sense 'tis gross + You love my son; invention is ashamed, + Against the proclamation of thy passion, + To say thou dost not: therefore tell me true; + But tell me then, 'tis so; for, look thy cheeks + Confess it, th' one to th' other; and thine eyes + See it so grossly shown in thy behaviors + That in their kind they speak it: only sin + And hellish obstinacy tie thy tongue, + That truth should be suspected. Speak, is't so? + If it be so, you have wound a goodly clew; + If it be not, forswear't: howe'er, I charge thee, + As heaven shall work in me for thine avail, + Tell me truly. + + + + HELENA + Good madam, pardon me! + + + + COUNTESS + Do you love my son? + + + + HELENA + Your pardon, noble mistress! + + + + COUNTESS + Love you my son? + + + + HELENA + Do not you love him, madam? + + + + COUNTESS + Go not about; my love hath in't a bond, + Whereof the world takes note: come, come, disclose + The state of your affection; for your passions + Have to the full appeach'd. + + + + HELENA + Then, I confess, + Here on my knee, before high heaven and you, + That before you, and next unto high heaven, + I love your son. + My friends were poor, but honest; so's my love: + Be not offended; for it hurts not him + That he is loved of me: I follow him not + By any token of presumptuous suit; + Nor would I have him till I do deserve him; + Yet never know how that desert should be. + I know I love in vain, strive against hope; + Yet in this captious and intenible sieve + I still pour in the waters of my love + And lack not to lose still: thus, Indian-like, + Religious in mine error, I adore + The sun, that looks upon his worshipper, + But knows of him no more. My dearest madam, + Let not your hate encounter with my love + For loving where you do: but if yourself, + Whose aged honour cites a virtuous youth, + Did ever in so true a flame of liking + Wish chastely and love dearly, that your Dian + Was both herself and love: O, then, give pity + To her, whose state is such that cannot choose + But lend and give where she is sure to lose; + That seeks not to find that her search implies, + But riddle-like lives sweetly where she dies! + + + + COUNTESS + Had you not lately an intent,--speak truly,-- + To go to Paris? + + + + HELENA + Madam, I had. + + + + COUNTESS + Wherefore? tell true. + + + + HELENA + I will tell truth; by grace itself I swear. + You know my father left me some prescriptions + Of rare and proved effects, such as his reading + And manifest experience had collected + For general sovereignty; and that he will'd me + In heedfull'st reservation to bestow them, + As notes whose faculties inclusive were + More than they were in note: amongst the rest, + There is a remedy, approved, set down, + To cure the desperate languishings whereof + The king is render'd lost. + + + + COUNTESS + This was your motive + For Paris, was it? speak. + + + + HELENA + My lord your son made me to think of this; + Else Paris and the medicine and the king + Had from the conversation of my thoughts + Haply been absent then. + + + + COUNTESS + But think you, Helen, + If you should tender your supposed aid, + He would receive it? he and his physicians + Are of a mind; he, that they cannot help him, + They, that they cannot help: how shall they credit + A poor unlearned virgin, when the schools, + Embowell'd of their doctrine, have left off + The danger to itself? + + + + HELENA + There's something in't, + More than my father's skill, which was the greatest + Of his profession, that his good receipt + Shall for my legacy be sanctified + By the luckiest stars in heaven: and, would your honour + But give me leave to try success, I'ld venture + The well-lost life of mine on his grace's cure + By such a day and hour. + + + + COUNTESS + Dost thou believe't? + + + + HELENA + Ay, madam, knowingly. + + + + COUNTESS + Why, Helen, thou shalt have my leave and love, + Means and attendants and my loving greetings + To those of mine in court: I'll stay at home + And pray God's blessing into thy attempt: + Be gone to-morrow; and be sure of this, + What I can help thee to thou shalt not miss. + + + + Exeunt + + + + + + ACT II + + + SCENE I. Paris. The KING's palace. + Flourish of cornets. Enter the KING, attended +with divers young Lords taking leave for the +Florentine war; BERTRAM, and PAROLLES + + + KING + Farewell, young lords; these warlike principles + Do not throw from you: and you, my lords, farewell: + Share the advice betwixt you; if both gain, all + The gift doth stretch itself as 'tis received, + And is enough for both. + + + + First Lord + 'Tis our hope, sir, + After well enter'd soldiers, to return + And find your grace in health. + + + + KING + No, no, it cannot be; and yet my heart + Will not confess he owes the malady + That doth my life besiege. Farewell, young lords; + Whether I live or die, be you the sons + Of worthy Frenchmen: let higher Italy,-- + Those bated that inherit but the fall + Of the last monarchy,--see that you come + Not to woo honour, but to wed it; when + The bravest questant shrinks, find what you seek, + That fame may cry you loud: I say, farewell. + + + + Second Lord + Health, at your bidding, serve your majesty! + + + + KING + Those girls of Italy, take heed of them: + They say, our French lack language to deny, + If they demand: beware of being captives, + Before you serve. + + + + Both + Our hearts receive your warnings. + + + + KING + Farewell. Come hither to me. + + + + Exit, attended + + + First Lord + O, my sweet lord, that you will stay behind us! + + + + PAROLLES + 'Tis not his fault, the spark. + + + + Second Lord + O, 'tis brave wars! + + + + PAROLLES + Most admirable: I have seen those wars. + + + + BERTRAM + I am commanded here, and kept a coil with + 'Too young' and 'the next year' and ''tis too early.' + + + + PAROLLES + An thy mind stand to't, boy, steal away bravely. + + + + BERTRAM + I shall stay here the forehorse to a smock, + Creaking my shoes on the plain masonry, + Till honour be bought up and no sword worn + But one to dance with! By heaven, I'll steal away. + + + + First Lord + There's honour in the theft. + + + + PAROLLES + Commit it, count. + + + + Second Lord + I am your accessary; and so, farewell. + + + + BERTRAM + I grow to you, and our parting is a tortured body. + + + + First Lord + Farewell, captain. + + + + Second Lord + Sweet Monsieur Parolles! + + + + PAROLLES + Noble heroes, my sword and yours are kin. Good + sparks and lustrous, a word, good metals: you shall + find in the regiment of the Spinii one Captain + Spurio, with his cicatrice, an emblem of war, here + on his sinister cheek; it was this very sword + entrenched it: say to him, I live; and observe his + reports for me. + + + + First Lord + We shall, noble captain. + + + + Exeunt Lords + + + PAROLLES + Mars dote on you for his novices! what will ye do? + + + + BERTRAM + Stay: the king. + + + + Re-enter KING. BERTRAM and PAROLLES retire + + + PAROLLES + + To BERTRAM Use a more spacious ceremony to the + noble lords; you have restrained yourself within the + list of too cold an adieu: be more expressive to + them: for they wear themselves in the cap of the + time, there do muster true gait, eat, speak, and + move under the influence of the most received star; + and though the devil lead the measure, such are to + be followed: after them, and take a more dilated farewell. + + + + BERTRAM + And I will do so. + + + + PAROLLES + Worthy fellows; and like to prove most sinewy sword-men. + + + Exeunt BERTRAM and PAROLLES + Enter LAFEU + + + LAFEU + + Kneeling Pardon, my lord, for me and for my tidings. + + + + KING + I'll fee thee to stand up. + + + + LAFEU + Then here's a man stands, that has brought his pardon. + I would you had kneel'd, my lord, to ask me mercy, + And that at my bidding you could so stand up. + + + + KING + I would I had; so I had broke thy pate, + And ask'd thee mercy for't. + + + + LAFEU + Good faith, across: but, my good lord 'tis thus; + Will you be cured of your infirmity? + + + + KING + No. + + + + LAFEU + O, will you eat no grapes, my royal fox? + Yes, but you will my noble grapes, an if + My royal fox could reach them: I have seen a medicine + That's able to breathe life into a stone, + Quicken a rock, and make you dance canary + With spritely fire and motion; whose simple touch, + Is powerful to araise King Pepin, nay, + To give great Charlemain a pen in's hand, + And write to her a love-line. + + + + KING + What 'her' is this? + + + + LAFEU + Why, Doctor She: my lord, there's one arrived, + If you will see her: now, by my faith and honour, + If seriously I may convey my thoughts + In this my light deliverance, I have spoke + With one that, in her sex, her years, profession, + Wisdom and constancy, hath amazed me more + Than I dare blame my weakness: will you see her + For that is her demand, and know her business? + That done, laugh well at me. + + + + KING + Now, good Lafeu, + Bring in the admiration; that we with thee + May spend our wonder too, or take off thine + By wondering how thou took'st it. + + + + LAFEU + Nay, I'll fit you, + And not be all day neither. + + + + Exit + + + KING + Thus he his special nothing ever prologues. + + + + Re-enter LAFEU, with HELENA + + + LAFEU + Nay, come your ways. + + + + KING + This haste hath wings indeed. + + + + LAFEU + Nay, come your ways: + This is his majesty; say your mind to him: + A traitor you do look like; but such traitors + His majesty seldom fears: I am Cressid's uncle, + That dare leave two together; fare you well. + + + + Exit + + + KING + Now, fair one, does your business follow us? + + + + HELENA + Ay, my good lord. + Gerard de Narbon was my father; + In what he did profess, well found. + + + + KING + I knew him. + + + + HELENA + The rather will I spare my praises towards him: + Knowing him is enough. On's bed of death + Many receipts he gave me: chiefly one. + Which, as the dearest issue of his practise, + And of his old experience the oily darling, + He bade me store up, as a triple eye, + Safer than mine own two, more dear; I have so; + And hearing your high majesty is touch'd + With that malignant cause wherein the honour + Of my dear father's gift stands chief in power, + I come to tender it and my appliance + With all bound humbleness. + + + + KING + We thank you, maiden; + But may not be so credulous of cure, + When our most learned doctors leave us and + The congregated college have concluded + That labouring art can never ransom nature + From her inaidible estate; I say we must not + So stain our judgment, or corrupt our hope, + To prostitute our past-cure malady + To empirics, or to dissever so + Our great self and our credit, to esteem + A senseless help when help past sense we deem. + + + + HELENA + My duty then shall pay me for my pains: + I will no more enforce mine office on you. + Humbly entreating from your royal thoughts + A modest one, to bear me back a again. + + + + KING + I cannot give thee less, to be call'd grateful: + Thou thought'st to help me; and such thanks I give + As one near death to those that wish him live: + But what at full I know, thou know'st no part, + I knowing all my peril, thou no art. + + + + HELENA + What I can do can do no hurt to try, + Since you set up your rest 'gainst remedy. + He that of greatest works is finisher + Oft does them by the weakest minister: + So holy writ in babes hath judgment shown, + When judges have been babes; great floods have flown + From simple sources, and great seas have dried + When miracles have by the greatest been denied. + Oft expectation fails and most oft there + Where most it promises, and oft it hits + Where hope is coldest and despair most fits. + + + + KING + I must not hear thee; fare thee well, kind maid; + Thy pains not used must by thyself be paid: + Proffers not took reap thanks for their reward. + + + + HELENA + Inspired merit so by breath is barr'd: + It is not so with Him that all things knows + As 'tis with us that square our guess by shows; + But most it is presumption in us when + The help of heaven we count the act of men. + Dear sir, to my endeavours give consent; + Of heaven, not me, make an experiment. + I am not an impostor that proclaim + Myself against the level of mine aim; + But know I think and think I know most sure + My art is not past power nor you past cure. + + + + KING + Are thou so confident? within what space + Hopest thou my cure? + + + + HELENA + The great'st grace lending grace + Ere twice the horses of the sun shall bring + Their fiery torcher his diurnal ring, + Ere twice in murk and occidental damp + Moist Hesperus hath quench'd his sleepy lamp, + Or four and twenty times the pilot's glass + Hath told the thievish minutes how they pass, + What is infirm from your sound parts shall fly, + Health shall live free and sickness freely die. + + + + KING + Upon thy certainty and confidence + What darest thou venture? + + + + HELENA + Tax of impudence, + A strumpet's boldness, a divulged shame + Traduced by odious ballads: my maiden's name + Sear'd otherwise; nay, worse--if worse--extended + With vilest torture let my life be ended. + + + + KING + Methinks in thee some blessed spirit doth speak + His powerful sound within an organ weak: + And what impossibility would slay + In common sense, sense saves another way. + Thy life is dear; for all that life can rate + Worth name of life in thee hath estimate, + Youth, beauty, wisdom, courage, all + That happiness and prime can happy call: + Thou this to hazard needs must intimate + Skill infinite or monstrous desperate. + Sweet practiser, thy physic I will try, + That ministers thine own death if I die. + + + + HELENA + If I break time, or flinch in property + Of what I spoke, unpitied let me die, + And well deserved: not helping, death's my fee; + But, if I help, what do you promise me? + + + + KING + Make thy demand. + + + + HELENA + But will you make it even? + + + + KING + Ay, by my sceptre and my hopes of heaven. + + + + HELENA + Then shalt thou give me with thy kingly hand + What husband in thy power I will command: + Exempted be from me the arrogance + To choose from forth the royal blood of France, + My low and humble name to propagate + With any branch or image of thy state; + But such a one, thy vassal, whom I know + Is free for me to ask, thee to bestow. + + + + KING + Here is my hand; the premises observed, + Thy will by my performance shall be served: + So make the choice of thy own time, for I, + Thy resolved patient, on thee still rely. + More should I question thee, and more I must, + Though more to know could not be more to trust, + From whence thou camest, how tended on: but rest + Unquestion'd welcome and undoubted blest. + Give me some help here, ho! If thou proceed + As high as word, my deed shall match thy meed. + + + + Flourish. Exeunt + + + + SCENE II. Rousillon. The COUNT's palace. + Enter COUNTESS and Clown + + + COUNTESS + Come on, sir; I shall now put you to the height of + your breeding. + + + + Clown + I will show myself highly fed and lowly taught: I + know my business is but to the court. + + + + COUNTESS + To the court! why, what place make you special, + when you put off that with such contempt? But to the court! + + + + Clown + Truly, madam, if God have lent a man any manners, he + may easily put it off at court: he that cannot make + a leg, put off's cap, kiss his hand and say nothing, + has neither leg, hands, lip, nor cap; and indeed + such a fellow, to say precisely, were not for the + court; but for me, I have an answer will serve all + men. + + + + COUNTESS + Marry, that's a bountiful answer that fits all + questions. + + + + Clown + It is like a barber's chair that fits all buttocks, + the pin-buttock, the quatch-buttock, the brawn + buttock, or any buttock. + + + + COUNTESS + Will your answer serve fit to all questions? + + + + Clown + As fit as ten groats is for the hand of an attorney, + as your French crown for your taffeta punk, as Tib's + rush for Tom's forefinger, as a pancake for Shrove + Tuesday, a morris for May-day, as the nail to his + hole, the cuckold to his horn, as a scolding queen + to a wrangling knave, as the nun's lip to the + friar's mouth, nay, as the pudding to his skin. + + + + COUNTESS + Have you, I say, an answer of such fitness for all + questions? + + + + Clown + From below your duke to beneath your constable, it + will fit any question. + + + + COUNTESS + It must be an answer of most monstrous size that + must fit all demands. + + + + Clown + But a trifle neither, in good faith, if the learned + should speak truth of it: here it is, and all that + belongs to't. Ask me if I am a courtier: it shall + do you no harm to learn. + + + + COUNTESS + To be young again, if we could: I will be a fool in + question, hoping to be the wiser by your answer. I + pray you, sir, are you a courtier? + + + + Clown + O Lord, sir! There's a simple putting off. More, + more, a hundred of them. + + + + COUNTESS + Sir, I am a poor friend of yours, that loves you. + + + + Clown + O Lord, sir! Thick, thick, spare not me. + + + + COUNTESS + I think, sir, you can eat none of this homely meat. + + + + Clown + O Lord, sir! Nay, put me to't, I warrant you. + + + + COUNTESS + You were lately whipped, sir, as I think. + + + + Clown + O Lord, sir! spare not me. + + + + COUNTESS + Do you cry, 'O Lord, sir!' at your whipping, and + 'spare not me?' Indeed your 'O Lord, sir!' is very + sequent to your whipping: you would answer very well + to a whipping, if you were but bound to't. + + + + Clown + I ne'er had worse luck in my life in my 'O Lord, + sir!' I see things may serve long, but not serve ever. + + + + COUNTESS + I play the noble housewife with the time + To entertain't so merrily with a fool. + + + + Clown + O Lord, sir! why, there't serves well again. + + + + COUNTESS + An end, sir; to your business. Give Helen this, + And urge her to a present answer back: + Commend me to my kinsmen and my son: + This is not much. + + + + Clown + Not much commendation to them. + + + + COUNTESS + Not much employment for you: you understand me? + + + + Clown + Most fruitfully: I am there before my legs. + + + + COUNTESS + Haste you again. + + + + Exeunt severally + + + + SCENE III. Paris. The KING's palace. + Enter BERTRAM, LAFEU, and PAROLLES + + + LAFEU + They say miracles are past; and we have our + philosophical persons, to make modern and familiar, + things supernatural and causeless. Hence is it that + we make trifles of terrors, ensconcing ourselves + into seeming knowledge, when we should submit + ourselves to an unknown fear. + + + + PAROLLES + Why, 'tis the rarest argument of wonder that hath + shot out in our latter times. + + + + BERTRAM + And so 'tis. + + + + LAFEU + To be relinquish'd of the artists,-- + + + + PAROLLES + So I say. + + + + LAFEU + Both of Galen and Paracelsus. + + + + PAROLLES + So I say. + + + + LAFEU + Of all the learned and authentic fellows,-- + + + + PAROLLES + Right; so I say. + + + + LAFEU + That gave him out incurable,-- + + + + PAROLLES + Why, there 'tis; so say I too. + + + + LAFEU + Not to be helped,-- + + + + PAROLLES + Right; as 'twere, a man assured of a-- + + + + LAFEU + Uncertain life, and sure death. + + + + PAROLLES + Just, you say well; so would I have said. + + + + LAFEU + I may truly say, it is a novelty to the world. + + + + PAROLLES + It is, indeed: if you will have it in showing, you + shall read it in--what do you call there? + + + + LAFEU + A showing of a heavenly effect in an earthly actor. + + + + PAROLLES + That's it; I would have said the very same. + + + + LAFEU + Why, your dolphin is not lustier: 'fore me, + I speak in respect-- + + + + PAROLLES + Nay, 'tis strange, 'tis very strange, that is the + brief and the tedious of it; and he's of a most + facinerious spirit that will not acknowledge it to be the-- + + + + LAFEU + Very hand of heaven. + + + + PAROLLES + Ay, so I say. + + + + LAFEU + In a most weak-- + pausing + and debile minister, great power, great + transcendence: which should, indeed, give us a + further use to be made than alone the recovery of + the king, as to be-- + pausing + generally thankful. + + + + PAROLLES + I would have said it; you say well. Here comes the king. + + + + Enter KING, HELENA, and Attendants. LAFEU and +PAROLLES retire + + + LAFEU + Lustig, as the Dutchman says: I'll like a maid the + better, whilst I have a tooth in my head: why, he's + able to lead her a coranto. + + + + PAROLLES + Mort du vinaigre! is not this Helen? + + + + LAFEU + 'Fore God, I think so. + + + + KING + Go, call before me all the lords in court. + Sit, my preserver, by thy patient's side; + And with this healthful hand, whose banish'd sense + Thou hast repeal'd, a second time receive + The confirmation of my promised gift, + Which but attends thy naming. + Enter three or four Lords + Fair maid, send forth thine eye: this youthful parcel + Of noble bachelors stand at my bestowing, + O'er whom both sovereign power and father's voice + I have to use: thy frank election make; + Thou hast power to choose, and they none to forsake. + + + + HELENA + To each of you one fair and virtuous mistress + Fall, when Love please! marry, to each, but one! + + + + LAFEU + I'ld give bay Curtal and his furniture, + My mouth no more were broken than these boys', + And writ as little beard. + + + + KING + Peruse them well: + Not one of those but had a noble father. + + + + HELENA + Gentlemen, + Heaven hath through me restored the king to health. + + + + All + We understand it, and thank heaven for you. + + + + HELENA + I am a simple maid, and therein wealthiest, + That I protest I simply am a maid. + Please it your majesty, I have done already: + The blushes in my cheeks thus whisper me, + 'We blush that thou shouldst choose; but, be refused, + Let the white death sit on thy cheek for ever; + We'll ne'er come there again.' + + + + KING + Make choice; and, see, + Who shuns thy love shuns all his love in me. + + + + HELENA + Now, Dian, from thy altar do I fly, + And to imperial Love, that god most high, + Do my sighs stream. Sir, will you hear my suit? + + + + First Lord + And grant it. + + + + HELENA + Thanks, sir; all the rest is mute. + + + + LAFEU + I had rather be in this choice than throw ames-ace + for my life. + + + + HELENA + The honour, sir, that flames in your fair eyes, + Before I speak, too threateningly replies: + Love make your fortunes twenty times above + Her that so wishes and her humble love! + + + + Second Lord + No better, if you please. + + + + HELENA + My wish receive, + Which great Love grant! and so, I take my leave. + + + + LAFEU + Do all they deny her? An they were sons of mine, + I'd have them whipped; or I would send them to the + Turk, to make eunuchs of. + + + + HELENA + Be not afraid that I your hand should take; + I'll never do you wrong for your own sake: + Blessing upon your vows! and in your bed + Find fairer fortune, if you ever wed! + + + + LAFEU + These boys are boys of ice, they'll none have her: + sure, they are bastards to the English; the French + ne'er got 'em. + + + + HELENA + You are too young, too happy, and too good, + To make yourself a son out of my blood. + + + + Fourth Lord + Fair one, I think not so. + + + + LAFEU + There's one grape yet; I am sure thy father drunk + wine: but if thou be'st not an ass, I am a youth + of fourteen; I have known thee already. + + + + HELENA + + To BERTRAM I dare not say I take you; but I give + Me and my service, ever whilst I live, + Into your guiding power. This is the man. + + + + KING + Why, then, young Bertram, take her; she's thy wife. + + + + BERTRAM + My wife, my liege! I shall beseech your highness, + In such a business give me leave to use + The help of mine own eyes. + + + + KING + Know'st thou not, Bertram, + What she has done for me? + + + + BERTRAM + Yes, my good lord; + But never hope to know why I should marry her. + + + + KING + Thou know'st she has raised me from my sickly bed. + + + + BERTRAM + But follows it, my lord, to bring me down + Must answer for your raising? I know her well: + She had her breeding at my father's charge. + A poor physician's daughter my wife! Disdain + Rather corrupt me ever! + + + + KING + 'Tis only title thou disdain'st in her, the which + I can build up. Strange is it that our bloods, + Of colour, weight, and heat, pour'd all together, + Would quite confound distinction, yet stand off + In differences so mighty. If she be + All that is virtuous, save what thou dislikest, + A poor physician's daughter, thou dislikest + Of virtue for the name: but do not so: + From lowest place when virtuous things proceed, + The place is dignified by the doer's deed: + Where great additions swell's, and virtue none, + It is a dropsied honour. Good alone + Is good without a name. Vileness is so: + The property by what it is should go, + Not by the title. She is young, wise, fair; + In these to nature she's immediate heir, + And these breed honour: that is honour's scorn, + Which challenges itself as honour's born + And is not like the sire: honours thrive, + When rather from our acts we them derive + Than our foregoers: the mere word's a slave + Debosh'd on every tomb, on every grave + A lying trophy, and as oft is dumb + Where dust and damn'd oblivion is the tomb + Of honour'd bones indeed. What should be said? + If thou canst like this creature as a maid, + I can create the rest: virtue and she + Is her own dower; honour and wealth from me. + + + + BERTRAM + I cannot love her, nor will strive to do't. + + + + KING + Thou wrong'st thyself, if thou shouldst strive to choose. + + + + HELENA + That you are well restored, my lord, I'm glad: + Let the rest go. + + + + KING + My honour's at the stake; which to defeat, + I must produce my power. Here, take her hand, + Proud scornful boy, unworthy this good gift; + That dost in vile misprision shackle up + My love and her desert; that canst not dream, + We, poising us in her defective scale, + Shall weigh thee to the beam; that wilt not know, + It is in us to plant thine honour where + We please to have it grow. Cheque thy contempt: + Obey our will, which travails in thy good: + Believe not thy disdain, but presently + Do thine own fortunes that obedient right + Which both thy duty owes and our power claims; + Or I will throw thee from my care for ever + Into the staggers and the careless lapse + Of youth and ignorance; both my revenge and hate + Loosing upon thee, in the name of justice, + Without all terms of pity. Speak; thine answer. + + + + BERTRAM + Pardon, my gracious lord; for I submit + My fancy to your eyes: when I consider + What great creation and what dole of honour + Flies where you bid it, I find that she, which late + Was in my nobler thoughts most base, is now + The praised of the king; who, so ennobled, + Is as 'twere born so. + + + + KING + Take her by the hand, + And tell her she is thine: to whom I promise + A counterpoise, if not to thy estate + A balance more replete. + + + + BERTRAM + I take her hand. + + + + KING + Good fortune and the favour of the king + Smile upon this contract; whose ceremony + Shall seem expedient on the now-born brief, + And be perform'd to-night: the solemn feast + Shall more attend upon the coming space, + Expecting absent friends. As thou lovest her, + Thy love's to me religious; else, does err. + + + + Exeunt all but LAFEU and PAROLLES + + + LAFEU + + Advancing Do you hear, monsieur? a word with you. + + + + PAROLLES + Your pleasure, sir? + + + + LAFEU + Your lord and master did well to make his + recantation. + + + + PAROLLES + Recantation! My lord! my master! + + + + LAFEU + Ay; is it not a language I speak? + + + + PAROLLES + A most harsh one, and not to be understood without + bloody succeeding. My master! + + + + LAFEU + Are you companion to the Count Rousillon? + + + + PAROLLES + To any count, to all counts, to what is man. + + + + LAFEU + To what is count's man: count's master is of + another style. + + + + PAROLLES + You are too old, sir; let it satisfy you, you are too old. + + + + LAFEU + I must tell thee, sirrah, I write man; to which + title age cannot bring thee. + + + + PAROLLES + What I dare too well do, I dare not do. + + + + LAFEU + I did think thee, for two ordinaries, to be a pretty + wise fellow; thou didst make tolerable vent of thy + travel; it might pass: yet the scarfs and the + bannerets about thee did manifoldly dissuade me from + believing thee a vessel of too great a burthen. I + have now found thee; when I lose thee again, I care + not: yet art thou good for nothing but taking up; and + that thou't scarce worth. + + + + PAROLLES + Hadst thou not the privilege of antiquity upon thee,-- + + + + LAFEU + Do not plunge thyself too far in anger, lest thou + hasten thy trial; which if--Lord have mercy on thee + for a hen! So, my good window of lattice, fare thee + well: thy casement I need not open, for I look + through thee. Give me thy hand. + + + + PAROLLES + My lord, you give me most egregious indignity. + + + + LAFEU + Ay, with all my heart; and thou art worthy of it. + + + + PAROLLES + I have not, my lord, deserved it. + + + + LAFEU + Yes, good faith, every dram of it; and I will not + bate thee a scruple. + + + + PAROLLES + Well, I shall be wiser. + + + + LAFEU + Even as soon as thou canst, for thou hast to pull at + a smack o' the contrary. If ever thou be'st bound + in thy scarf and beaten, thou shalt find what it is + to be proud of thy bondage. I have a desire to hold + my acquaintance with thee, or rather my knowledge, + that I may say in the default, he is a man I know. + + + + PAROLLES + My lord, you do me most insupportable vexation. + + + + LAFEU + I would it were hell-pains for thy sake, and my poor + doing eternal: for doing I am past: as I will by + thee, in what motion age will give me leave. + + + + Exit + + + PAROLLES + Well, thou hast a son shall take this disgrace off + me; scurvy, old, filthy, scurvy lord! Well, I must + be patient; there is no fettering of authority. + I'll beat him, by my life, if I can meet him with + any convenience, an he were double and double a + lord. I'll have no more pity of his age than I + would of--I'll beat him, an if I could but meet him again. + + + + Re-enter LAFEU + + + LAFEU + Sirrah, your lord and master's married; there's news + for you: you have a new mistress. + + + + PAROLLES + I most unfeignedly beseech your lordship to make + some reservation of your wrongs: he is my good + lord: whom I serve above is my master. + + + + LAFEU + Who? God? + + + + PAROLLES + Ay, sir. + + + + LAFEU + The devil it is that's thy master. Why dost thou + garter up thy arms o' this fashion? dost make hose of + sleeves? do other servants so? Thou wert best set + thy lower part where thy nose stands. By mine + honour, if I were but two hours younger, I'ld beat + thee: methinks, thou art a general offence, and + every man should beat thee: I think thou wast + created for men to breathe themselves upon thee. + + + + PAROLLES + This is hard and undeserved measure, my lord. + + + + LAFEU + Go to, sir; you were beaten in Italy for picking a + kernel out of a pomegranate; you are a vagabond and + no true traveller: you are more saucy with lords + and honourable personages than the commission of your + birth and virtue gives you heraldry. You are not + worth another word, else I'ld call you knave. I leave you. + + + + Exit + + + PAROLLES + Good, very good; it is so then: good, very good; + let it be concealed awhile. + + + + Re-enter BERTRAM + + + BERTRAM + Undone, and forfeited to cares for ever! + + + + PAROLLES + What's the matter, sweet-heart? + + + + BERTRAM + Although before the solemn priest I have sworn, + I will not bed her. + + + + PAROLLES + What, what, sweet-heart? + + + + BERTRAM + O my Parolles, they have married me! + I'll to the Tuscan wars, and never bed her. + + + + PAROLLES + France is a dog-hole, and it no more merits + The tread of a man's foot: to the wars! + + + + BERTRAM + There's letters from my mother: what the import is, + I know not yet. + + + + PAROLLES + Ay, that would be known. To the wars, my boy, to the wars! + He wears his honour in a box unseen, + That hugs his kicky-wicky here at home, + Spending his manly marrow in her arms, + Which should sustain the bound and high curvet + Of Mars's fiery steed. To other regions + France is a stable; we that dwell in't jades; + Therefore, to the war! + + + + BERTRAM + It shall be so: I'll send her to my house, + Acquaint my mother with my hate to her, + And wherefore I am fled; write to the king + That which I durst not speak; his present gift + Shall furnish me to those Italian fields, + Where noble fellows strike: war is no strife + To the dark house and the detested wife. + + + + PAROLLES + Will this capriccio hold in thee? art sure? + + + + BERTRAM + Go with me to my chamber, and advise me. + I'll send her straight away: to-morrow + I'll to the wars, she to her single sorrow. + + + + PAROLLES + Why, these balls bound; there's noise in it. 'Tis hard: + A young man married is a man that's marr'd: + Therefore away, and leave her bravely; go: + The king has done you wrong: but, hush, 'tis so. + + + + Exeunt + + + + SCENE IV. Paris. The KING's palace. + Enter HELENA and Clown + + + HELENA + My mother greets me kindly; is she well? + + + + Clown + She is not well; but yet she has her health: she's + very merry; but yet she is not well: but thanks be + given, she's very well and wants nothing i', the + world; but yet she is not well. + + + + HELENA + If she be very well, what does she ail, that she's + not very well? + + + + Clown + Truly, she's very well indeed, but for two things. + + + + HELENA + What two things? + + + + Clown + One, that she's not in heaven, whither God send her + quickly! the other that she's in earth, from whence + God send her quickly! + + + + Enter PAROLLES + + + PAROLLES + Bless you, my fortunate lady! + + + + HELENA + I hope, sir, I have your good will to have mine own + good fortunes. + + + + PAROLLES + You had my prayers to lead them on; and to keep them + on, have them still. O, my knave, how does my old lady? + + + + Clown + So that you had her wrinkles and I her money, + I would she did as you say. + + + + PAROLLES + Why, I say nothing. + + + + Clown + Marry, you are the wiser man; for many a man's + tongue shakes out his master's undoing: to say + nothing, to do nothing, to know nothing, and to have + nothing, is to be a great part of your title; which + is within a very little of nothing. + + + + PAROLLES + Away! thou'rt a knave. + + + + Clown + You should have said, sir, before a knave thou'rt a + knave; that's, before me thou'rt a knave: this had + been truth, sir. + + + + PAROLLES + Go to, thou art a witty fool; I have found thee. + + + + Clown + Did you find me in yourself, sir? or were you + taught to find me? The search, sir, was profitable; + and much fool may you find in you, even to the + world's pleasure and the increase of laughter. + + + + PAROLLES + A good knave, i' faith, and well fed. + Madam, my lord will go away to-night; + A very serious business calls on him. + The great prerogative and rite of love, + Which, as your due, time claims, he does acknowledge; + But puts it off to a compell'd restraint; + Whose want, and whose delay, is strew'd with sweets, + Which they distil now in the curbed time, + To make the coming hour o'erflow with joy + And pleasure drown the brim. + + + + HELENA + What's his will else? + + + + PAROLLES + That you will take your instant leave o' the king + And make this haste as your own good proceeding, + Strengthen'd with what apology you think + May make it probable need. + + + + HELENA + What more commands he? + + + + PAROLLES + That, having this obtain'd, you presently + Attend his further pleasure. + + + + HELENA + In every thing I wait upon his will. + + + + PAROLLES + I shall report it so. + + + + HELENA + I pray you. + Exit PAROLLES + Come, sirrah. + + + + Exeunt + + + + SCENE V. Paris. The KING's palace. + Enter LAFEU and BERTRAM + + + LAFEU + But I hope your lordship thinks not him a soldier. + + + + BERTRAM + Yes, my lord, and of very valiant approof. + + + + LAFEU + You have it from his own deliverance. + + + + BERTRAM + And by other warranted testimony. + + + + LAFEU + Then my dial goes not true: I took this lark for a bunting. + + + + BERTRAM + I do assure you, my lord, he is very great in + knowledge and accordingly valiant. + + + + LAFEU + I have then sinned against his experience and + transgressed against his valour; and my state that + way is dangerous, since I cannot yet find in my + heart to repent. Here he comes: I pray you, make + us friends; I will pursue the amity. + + + + Enter PAROLLES + + + PAROLLES + + To BERTRAM These things shall be done, sir. + + + + LAFEU + Pray you, sir, who's his tailor? + + + + PAROLLES + Sir? + + + + LAFEU + O, I know him well, I, sir; he, sir, 's a good + workman, a very good tailor. + + + + BERTRAM + + Aside to PAROLLES Is she gone to the king? + + + + PAROLLES + She is. + + + + BERTRAM + Will she away to-night? + + + + PAROLLES + As you'll have her. + + + + BERTRAM + I have writ my letters, casketed my treasure, + Given order for our horses; and to-night, + When I should take possession of the bride, + End ere I do begin. + + + + LAFEU + A good traveller is something at the latter end of a + dinner; but one that lies three thirds and uses a + known truth to pass a thousand nothings with, should + be once heard and thrice beaten. God save you, captain. + + + + BERTRAM + Is there any unkindness between my lord and you, monsieur? + + + + PAROLLES + I know not how I have deserved to run into my lord's + displeasure. + + + + LAFEU + You have made shift to run into 't, boots and spurs + and all, like him that leaped into the custard; and + out of it you'll run again, rather than suffer + question for your residence. + + + + BERTRAM + It may be you have mistaken him, my lord. + + + + LAFEU + And shall do so ever, though I took him at 's + prayers. Fare you well, my lord; and believe this + of me, there can be no kernel in this light nut; the + soul of this man is his clothes. Trust him not in + matter of heavy consequence; I have kept of them + tame, and know their natures. Farewell, monsieur: + I have spoken better of you than you have or will to + deserve at my hand; but we must do good against evil. + + + + Exit + + + PAROLLES + An idle lord. I swear. + + + + BERTRAM + I think so. + + + + PAROLLES + Why, do you not know him? + + + + BERTRAM + Yes, I do know him well, and common speech + Gives him a worthy pass. Here comes my clog. + + + + Enter HELENA + + + HELENA + I have, sir, as I was commanded from you, + Spoke with the king and have procured his leave + For present parting; only he desires + Some private speech with you. + + + + BERTRAM + I shall obey his will. + You must not marvel, Helen, at my course, + Which holds not colour with the time, nor does + The ministration and required office + On my particular. Prepared I was not + For such a business; therefore am I found + So much unsettled: this drives me to entreat you + That presently you take our way for home; + And rather muse than ask why I entreat you, + For my respects are better than they seem + And my appointments have in them a need + Greater than shows itself at the first view + To you that know them not. This to my mother: + Giving a letter + 'Twill be two days ere I shall see you, so + I leave you to your wisdom. + + + + HELENA + Sir, I can nothing say, + But that I am your most obedient servant. + + + + BERTRAM + Come, come, no more of that. + + + + HELENA + And ever shall + With true observance seek to eke out that + Wherein toward me my homely stars have fail'd + To equal my great fortune. + + + + BERTRAM + Let that go: + My haste is very great: farewell; hie home. + + + + HELENA + Pray, sir, your pardon. + + + + BERTRAM + Well, what would you say? + + + + HELENA + I am not worthy of the wealth I owe, + Nor dare I say 'tis mine, and yet it is; + But, like a timorous thief, most fain would steal + What law does vouch mine own. + + + + BERTRAM + What would you have? + + + + HELENA + Something; and scarce so much: nothing, indeed. + I would not tell you what I would, my lord: + Faith yes; + Strangers and foes do sunder, and not kiss. + + + + BERTRAM + I pray you, stay not, but in haste to horse. + + + + HELENA + I shall not break your bidding, good my lord. + + + + BERTRAM + Where are my other men, monsieur? Farewell. + Exit HELENA + Go thou toward home; where I will never come + Whilst I can shake my sword or hear the drum. + Away, and for our flight. + + + + PAROLLES + Bravely, coragio! + + + + Exeunt + + + + + + ACT III + + + SCENE I. Florence. The DUKE's palace. + Flourish. Enter the DUKE of Florence attended; +the two Frenchmen, with a troop of soldiers. + + + DUKE + So that from point to point now have you heard + The fundamental reasons of this war, + Whose great decision hath much blood let forth + And more thirsts after. + + + + First Lord + Holy seems the quarrel + Upon your grace's part; black and fearful + On the opposer. + + + + DUKE + Therefore we marvel much our cousin France + Would in so just a business shut his bosom + Against our borrowing prayers. + + + + Second Lord + Good my lord, + The reasons of our state I cannot yield, + But like a common and an outward man, + That the great figure of a council frames + By self-unable motion: therefore dare not + Say what I think of it, since I have found + Myself in my incertain grounds to fail + As often as I guess'd. + + + + DUKE + Be it his pleasure. + + + + First Lord + But I am sure the younger of our nature, + That surfeit on their ease, will day by day + Come here for physic. + + + + DUKE + Welcome shall they be; + And all the honours that can fly from us + Shall on them settle. You know your places well; + When better fall, for your avails they fell: + To-morrow to the field. + + + + Flourish. Exeunt + + + + SCENE II. Rousillon. The COUNT's palace. + Enter COUNTESS and Clown + + + COUNTESS + It hath happened all as I would have had it, save + that he comes not along with her. + + + + Clown + By my troth, I take my young lord to be a very + melancholy man. + + + + COUNTESS + By what observance, I pray you? + + + + Clown + Why, he will look upon his boot and sing; mend the + ruff and sing; ask questions and sing; pick his + teeth and sing. I know a man that had this trick of + melancholy sold a goodly manor for a song. + + + + COUNTESS + Let me see what he writes, and when he means to come. + + + + Opening a letter + + + Clown + I have no mind to Isbel since I was at court: our + old ling and our Isbels o' the country are nothing + like your old ling and your Isbels o' the court: + the brains of my Cupid's knocked out, and I begin to + love, as an old man loves money, with no stomach. + + + + COUNTESS + What have we here? + + + + Clown + E'en that you have there. + + + + Exit + + + COUNTESS + + Reads I have sent you a daughter-in-law: she hath + recovered the king, and undone me. I have wedded + her, not bedded her; and sworn to make the 'not' + eternal. You shall hear I am run away: know it + before the report come. If there be breadth enough + in the world, I will hold a long distance. My duty + to you. Your unfortunate son, + BERTRAM. + This is not well, rash and unbridled boy. + To fly the favours of so good a king; + To pluck his indignation on thy head + By the misprising of a maid too virtuous + For the contempt of empire. + + + + Re-enter Clown + + + Clown + O madam, yonder is heavy news within between two + soldiers and my young lady! + + + + COUNTESS + What is the matter? + + + + Clown + Nay, there is some comfort in the news, some + comfort; your son will not be killed so soon as I + thought he would. + + + + COUNTESS + Why should he be killed? + + + + Clown + So say I, madam, if he run away, as I hear he does: + the danger is in standing to't; that's the loss of + men, though it be the getting of children. Here + they come will tell you more: for my part, I only + hear your son was run away. + + + Exit + Enter HELENA, and two Gentlemen + + + First Gentleman + Save you, good madam. + + + + HELENA + Madam, my lord is gone, for ever gone. + + + + Second Gentleman + Do not say so. + + + + COUNTESS + Think upon patience. Pray you, gentlemen, + I have felt so many quirks of joy and grief, + That the first face of neither, on the start, + Can woman me unto't: where is my son, I pray you? + + + + Second Gentleman + Madam, he's gone to serve the duke of Florence: + We met him thitherward; for thence we came, + And, after some dispatch in hand at court, + Thither we bend again. + + + + HELENA + Look on his letter, madam; here's my passport. + Reads + When thou canst get the ring upon my finger which + never shall come off, and show me a child begotten + of thy body that I am father to, then call me + husband: but in such a 'then' I write a 'never.' + This is a dreadful sentence. + + + + COUNTESS + Brought you this letter, gentlemen? + + + + First Gentleman + Ay, madam; + And for the contents' sake are sorry for our pain. + + + + COUNTESS + I prithee, lady, have a better cheer; + If thou engrossest all the griefs are thine, + Thou robb'st me of a moiety: he was my son; + But I do wash his name out of my blood, + And thou art all my child. Towards Florence is he? + + + + Second Gentleman + Ay, madam. + + + + COUNTESS + And to be a soldier? + + + + Second Gentleman + Such is his noble purpose; and believe 't, + The duke will lay upon him all the honour + That good convenience claims. + + + + COUNTESS + Return you thither? + + + + First Gentleman + Ay, madam, with the swiftest wing of speed. + + + + HELENA + + Reads Till I have no wife I have nothing in France. + 'Tis bitter. + + + + COUNTESS + Find you that there? + + + + HELENA + Ay, madam. + + + + First Gentleman + 'Tis but the boldness of his hand, haply, which his + heart was not consenting to. + + + + COUNTESS + Nothing in France, until he have no wife! + There's nothing here that is too good for him + But only she; and she deserves a lord + That twenty such rude boys might tend upon + And call her hourly mistress. Who was with him? + + + + First Gentleman + A servant only, and a gentleman + Which I have sometime known. + + + + COUNTESS + Parolles, was it not? + + + + First Gentleman + Ay, my good lady, he. + + + + COUNTESS + A very tainted fellow, and full of wickedness. + My son corrupts a well-derived nature + With his inducement. + + + + First Gentleman + Indeed, good lady, + The fellow has a deal of that too much, + Which holds him much to have. + + + + COUNTESS + You're welcome, gentlemen. + I will entreat you, when you see my son, + To tell him that his sword can never win + The honour that he loses: more I'll entreat you + Written to bear along. + + + + Second Gentleman + We serve you, madam, + In that and all your worthiest affairs. + + + + COUNTESS + Not so, but as we change our courtesies. + Will you draw near! + + + + Exeunt COUNTESS and Gentlemen + + + HELENA + 'Till I have no wife, I have nothing in France.' + Nothing in France, until he has no wife! + Thou shalt have none, Rousillon, none in France; + Then hast thou all again. Poor lord! is't I + That chase thee from thy country and expose + Those tender limbs of thine to the event + Of the none-sparing war? and is it I + That drive thee from the sportive court, where thou + Wast shot at with fair eyes, to be the mark + Of smoky muskets? O you leaden messengers, + That ride upon the violent speed of fire, + Fly with false aim; move the still-peering air, + That sings with piercing; do not touch my lord. + Whoever shoots at him, I set him there; + Whoever charges on his forward breast, + I am the caitiff that do hold him to't; + And, though I kill him not, I am the cause + His death was so effected: better 'twere + I met the ravin lion when he roar'd + With sharp constraint of hunger; better 'twere + That all the miseries which nature owes + Were mine at once. No, come thou home, Rousillon, + Whence honour but of danger wins a scar, + As oft it loses all: I will be gone; + My being here it is that holds thee hence: + Shall I stay here to do't? no, no, although + The air of paradise did fan the house + And angels officed all: I will be gone, + That pitiful rumour may report my flight, + To consolate thine ear. Come, night; end, day! + For with the dark, poor thief, I'll steal away. + + + + Exit + + + + SCENE III. Florence. Before the DUKE's palace. + Flourish. Enter the DUKE of Florence, BERTRAM, +PAROLLES, Soldiers, Drum, and Trumpets + + + DUKE + The general of our horse thou art; and we, + Great in our hope, lay our best love and credence + Upon thy promising fortune. + + + + BERTRAM + Sir, it is + A charge too heavy for my strength, but yet + We'll strive to bear it for your worthy sake + To the extreme edge of hazard. + + + + DUKE + Then go thou forth; + And fortune play upon thy prosperous helm, + As thy auspicious mistress! + + + + BERTRAM + This very day, + Great Mars, I put myself into thy file: + Make me but like my thoughts, and I shall prove + A lover of thy drum, hater of love. + + + + Exeunt + + + + SCENE IV. Rousillon. The COUNT's palace. + Enter COUNTESS and Steward + + + COUNTESS + Alas! and would you take the letter of her? + Might you not know she would do as she has done, + By sending me a letter? Read it again. + + + + Steward + + Reads + + I am Saint Jaques' pilgrim, thither gone: + Ambitious love hath so in me offended, + That barefoot plod I the cold ground upon, + With sainted vow my faults to have amended. + Write, write, that from the bloody course of war + My dearest master, your dear son, may hie: + Bless him at home in peace, whilst I from far + His name with zealous fervor sanctify: + His taken labours bid him me forgive; + I, his despiteful Juno, sent him forth + From courtly friends, with camping foes to live, + Where death and danger dogs the heels of worth: + He is too good and fair for death and me: + Whom I myself embrace, to set him free. + + + + COUNTESS + Ah, what sharp stings are in her mildest words! + Rinaldo, you did never lack advice so much, + As letting her pass so: had I spoke with her, + I could have well diverted her intents, + Which thus she hath prevented. + + + + Steward + Pardon me, madam: + If I had given you this at over-night, + She might have been o'erta'en; and yet she writes, + Pursuit would be but vain. + + + + COUNTESS + What angel shall + Bless this unworthy husband? he cannot thrive, + Unless her prayers, whom heaven delights to hear + And loves to grant, reprieve him from the wrath + Of greatest justice. Write, write, Rinaldo, + To this unworthy husband of his wife; + Let every word weigh heavy of her worth + That he does weigh too light: my greatest grief. + Though little he do feel it, set down sharply. + Dispatch the most convenient messenger: + When haply he shall hear that she is gone, + He will return; and hope I may that she, + Hearing so much, will speed her foot again, + Led hither by pure love: which of them both + Is dearest to me. I have no skill in sense + To make distinction: provide this messenger: + My heart is heavy and mine age is weak; + Grief would have tears, and sorrow bids me speak. + + + + Exeunt + + + + SCENE V. Florence. Without the walls. A tucket afar off. + Enter an old Widow of Florence, DIANA, VIOLENTA, +and MARIANA, with other Citizens + + + Widow + Nay, come; for if they do approach the city, we + shall lose all the sight. + + + + DIANA + They say the French count has done most honourable service. + + + + Widow + It is reported that he has taken their greatest + commander; and that with his own hand he slew the + duke's brother. + Tucket + We have lost our labour; they are gone a contrary + way: hark! you may know by their trumpets. + + + + MARIANA + Come, let's return again, and suffice ourselves with + the report of it. Well, Diana, take heed of this + French earl: the honour of a maid is her name; and + no legacy is so rich as honesty. + + + + Widow + I have told my neighbour how you have been solicited + by a gentleman his companion. + + + + MARIANA + I know that knave; hang him! one Parolles: a + filthy officer he is in those suggestions for the + young earl. Beware of them, Diana; their promises, + enticements, oaths, tokens, and all these engines of + lust, are not the things they go under: many a maid + hath been seduced by them; and the misery is, + example, that so terrible shows in the wreck of + maidenhood, cannot for all that dissuade succession, + but that they are limed with the twigs that threaten + them. I hope I need not to advise you further; but + I hope your own grace will keep you where you are, + though there were no further danger known but the + modesty which is so lost. + + + + DIANA + You shall not need to fear me. + + + + Widow + I hope so. + Enter HELENA, disguised like a Pilgrim + Look, here comes a pilgrim: I know she will lie at + my house; thither they send one another: I'll + question her. God save you, pilgrim! whither are you bound? + + + + HELENA + To Saint Jaques le Grand. + Where do the palmers lodge, I do beseech you? + + + + Widow + At the Saint Francis here beside the port. + + + + HELENA + Is this the way? + + + + Widow + Ay, marry, is't. + A march afar + Hark you! they come this way. + If you will tarry, holy pilgrim, + But till the troops come by, + I will conduct you where you shall be lodged; + The rather, for I think I know your hostess + As ample as myself. + + + + HELENA + Is it yourself? + + + + Widow + If you shall please so, pilgrim. + + + + HELENA + I thank you, and will stay upon your leisure. + + + + Widow + You came, I think, from France? + + + + HELENA + I did so. + + + + Widow + Here you shall see a countryman of yours + That has done worthy service. + + + + HELENA + His name, I pray you. + + + + DIANA + The Count Rousillon: know you such a one? + + + + HELENA + But by the ear, that hears most nobly of him: + His face I know not. + + + + DIANA + Whatsome'er he is, + He's bravely taken here. He stole from France, + As 'tis reported, for the king had married him + Against his liking: think you it is so? + + + + HELENA + Ay, surely, mere the truth: I know his lady. + + + + DIANA + There is a gentleman that serves the count + Reports but coarsely of her. + + + + HELENA + What's his name? + + + + DIANA + Monsieur Parolles. + + + + HELENA + O, I believe with him, + In argument of praise, or to the worth + Of the great count himself, she is too mean + To have her name repeated: all her deserving + Is a reserved honesty, and that + I have not heard examined. + + + + DIANA + Alas, poor lady! + 'Tis a hard bondage to become the wife + Of a detesting lord. + + + + Widow + I warrant, good creature, wheresoe'er she is, + Her heart weighs sadly: this young maid might do her + A shrewd turn, if she pleased. + + + + HELENA + How do you mean? + May be the amorous count solicits her + In the unlawful purpose. + + + + Widow + He does indeed; + And brokes with all that can in such a suit + Corrupt the tender honour of a maid: + But she is arm'd for him and keeps her guard + In honestest defence. + + + + MARIANA + The gods forbid else! + + + + Widow + So, now they come: + Drum and Colours + Enter BERTRAM, PAROLLES, and the whole army + That is Antonio, the duke's eldest son; + That, Escalus. + + + + HELENA + Which is the Frenchman? + + + + DIANA + He; + That with the plume: 'tis a most gallant fellow. + I would he loved his wife: if he were honester + He were much goodlier: is't not a handsome gentleman? + + + + HELENA + I like him well. + + + + DIANA + 'Tis pity he is not honest: yond's that same knave + That leads him to these places: were I his lady, + I would Poison that vile rascal. + + + + HELENA + Which is he? + + + + DIANA + That jack-an-apes with scarfs: why is he melancholy? + + + + HELENA + Perchance he's hurt i' the battle. + + + + PAROLLES + Lose our drum! well. + + + + MARIANA + He's shrewdly vexed at something: look, he has spied us. + + + + Widow + Marry, hang you! + + + + MARIANA + And your courtesy, for a ring-carrier! + + + + Exeunt BERTRAM, PAROLLES, and army + + + Widow + The troop is past. Come, pilgrim, I will bring you + Where you shall host: of enjoin'd penitents + There's four or five, to great Saint Jaques bound, + Already at my house. + + + + HELENA + I humbly thank you: + Please it this matron and this gentle maid + To eat with us to-night, the charge and thanking + Shall be for me; and, to requite you further, + I will bestow some precepts of this virgin + Worthy the note. + + + + BOTH + We'll take your offer kindly. + + + + Exeunt + + + + SCENE VI. Camp before Florence. + Enter BERTRAM and the two French Lords + + + Second Lord + Nay, good my lord, put him to't; let him have his + way. + + + + First Lord + If your lordship find him not a hilding, hold me no + more in your respect. + + + + Second Lord + On my life, my lord, a bubble. + + + + BERTRAM + Do you think I am so far deceived in him? + + + + Second Lord + Believe it, my lord, in mine own direct knowledge, + without any malice, but to speak of him as my + kinsman, he's a most notable coward, an infinite and + endless liar, an hourly promise-breaker, the owner + of no one good quality worthy your lordship's + entertainment. + + + + First Lord + It were fit you knew him; lest, reposing too far in + his virtue, which he hath not, he might at some + great and trusty business in a main danger fail you. + + + + BERTRAM + I would I knew in what particular action to try him. + + + + First Lord + None better than to let him fetch off his drum, + which you hear him so confidently undertake to do. + + + + Second Lord + I, with a troop of Florentines, will suddenly + surprise him; such I will have, whom I am sure he + knows not from the enemy: we will bind and hoodwink + him so, that he shall suppose no other but that he + is carried into the leaguer of the adversaries, when + we bring him to our own tents. Be but your lordship + present at his examination: if he do not, for the + promise of his life and in the highest compulsion of + base fear, offer to betray you and deliver all the + intelligence in his power against you, and that with + the divine forfeit of his soul upon oath, never + trust my judgment in any thing. + + + + First Lord + O, for the love of laughter, let him fetch his drum; + he says he has a stratagem for't: when your + lordship sees the bottom of his success in't, and to + what metal this counterfeit lump of ore will be + melted, if you give him not John Drum's + entertainment, your inclining cannot be removed. + Here he comes. + + + + Enter PAROLLES + + + Second Lord + + Aside to BERTRAM O, for the love of laughter, + hinder not the honour of his design: let him fetch + off his drum in any hand. + + + + BERTRAM + How now, monsieur! this drum sticks sorely in your + disposition. + + + + First Lord + A pox on't, let it go; 'tis but a drum. + + + + PAROLLES + 'But a drum'! is't 'but a drum'? A drum so lost! + There was excellent command,--to charge in with our + horse upon our own wings, and to rend our own soldiers! + + + + First Lord + That was not to be blamed in the command of the + service: it was a disaster of war that Caesar + himself could not have prevented, if he had been + there to command. + + + + BERTRAM + Well, we cannot greatly condemn our success: some + dishonour we had in the loss of that drum; but it is + not to be recovered. + + + + PAROLLES + It might have been recovered. + + + + BERTRAM + It might; but it is not now. + + + + PAROLLES + It is to be recovered: but that the merit of + service is seldom attributed to the true and exact + performer, I would have that drum or another, or + 'hic jacet.' + + + + BERTRAM + Why, if you have a stomach, to't, monsieur: if you + think your mystery in stratagem can bring this + instrument of honour again into his native quarter, + be magnanimous in the enterprise and go on; I will + grace the attempt for a worthy exploit: if you + speed well in it, the duke shall both speak of it. + and extend to you what further becomes his + greatness, even to the utmost syllable of your + worthiness. + + + + PAROLLES + By the hand of a soldier, I will undertake it. + + + + BERTRAM + But you must not now slumber in it. + + + + PAROLLES + I'll about it this evening: and I will presently + pen down my dilemmas, encourage myself in my + certainty, put myself into my mortal preparation; + and by midnight look to hear further from me. + + + + BERTRAM + May I be bold to acquaint his grace you are gone about it? + + + + PAROLLES + I know not what the success will be, my lord; but + the attempt I vow. + + + + BERTRAM + I know thou'rt valiant; and, to the possibility of + thy soldiership, will subscribe for thee. Farewell. + + + + PAROLLES + I love not many words. + + + + Exit + + + Second Lord + No more than a fish loves water. Is not this a + strange fellow, my lord, that so confidently seems + to undertake this business, which he knows is not to + be done; damns himself to do and dares better be + damned than to do't? + + + + First Lord + You do not know him, my lord, as we do: certain it + is that he will steal himself into a man's favour and + for a week escape a great deal of discoveries; but + when you find him out, you have him ever after. + + + + BERTRAM + Why, do you think he will make no deed at all of + this that so seriously he does address himself unto? + + + + Second Lord + None in the world; but return with an invention and + clap upon you two or three probable lies: but we + have almost embossed him; you shall see his fall + to-night; for indeed he is not for your lordship's respect. + + + + First Lord + We'll make you some sport with the fox ere we case + him. He was first smoked by the old lord Lafeu: + when his disguise and he is parted, tell me what a + sprat you shall find him; which you shall see this + very night. + + + + Second Lord + I must go look my twigs: he shall be caught. + + + + BERTRAM + Your brother he shall go along with me. + + + + Second Lord + As't please your lordship: I'll leave you. + + + + Exit + + + BERTRAM + Now will I lead you to the house, and show you + The lass I spoke of. + + + + First Lord + But you say she's honest. + + + + BERTRAM + That's all the fault: I spoke with her but once + And found her wondrous cold; but I sent to her, + By this same coxcomb that we have i' the wind, + Tokens and letters which she did re-send; + And this is all I have done. She's a fair creature: + Will you go see her? + + + + First Lord + With all my heart, my lord. + + + + Exeunt + + + + SCENE VII. Florence. The Widow's house. + Enter HELENA and Widow + + + HELENA + If you misdoubt me that I am not she, + I know not how I shall assure you further, + But I shall lose the grounds I work upon. + + + + Widow + Though my estate be fallen, I was well born, + Nothing acquainted with these businesses; + And would not put my reputation now + In any staining act. + + + + HELENA + Nor would I wish you. + First, give me trust, the count he is my husband, + And what to your sworn counsel I have spoken + Is so from word to word; and then you cannot, + By the good aid that I of you shall borrow, + Err in bestowing it. + + + + Widow + I should believe you: + For you have show'd me that which well approves + You're great in fortune. + + + + HELENA + Take this purse of gold, + And let me buy your friendly help thus far, + Which I will over-pay and pay again + When I have found it. The count he wooes your daughter, + Lays down his wanton siege before her beauty, + Resolved to carry her: let her in fine consent, + As we'll direct her how 'tis best to bear it. + Now his important blood will nought deny + That she'll demand: a ring the county wears, + That downward hath succeeded in his house + From son to son, some four or five descents + Since the first father wore it: this ring he holds + In most rich choice; yet in his idle fire, + To buy his will, it would not seem too dear, + Howe'er repented after. + + + + Widow + Now I see + The bottom of your purpose. + + + + HELENA + You see it lawful, then: it is no more, + But that your daughter, ere she seems as won, + Desires this ring; appoints him an encounter; + In fine, delivers me to fill the time, + Herself most chastely absent: after this, + To marry her, I'll add three thousand crowns + To what is passed already. + + + + Widow + I have yielded: + Instruct my daughter how she shall persever, + That time and place with this deceit so lawful + May prove coherent. Every night he comes + With musics of all sorts and songs composed + To her unworthiness: it nothing steads us + To chide him from our eaves; for he persists + As if his life lay on't. + + + + HELENA + Why then to-night + Let us assay our plot; which, if it speed, + Is wicked meaning in a lawful deed + And lawful meaning in a lawful act, + Where both not sin, and yet a sinful fact: + But let's about it. + + + + Exeunt + + + + + + ACT IV + + + SCENE I. Without the Florentine camp. + Enter Second French Lord, with five or six other +Soldiers in ambush + + + Second Lord + He can come no other way but by this hedge-corner. + When you sally upon him, speak what terrible + language you will: though you understand it not + yourselves, no matter; for we must not seem to + understand him, unless some one among us whom we + must produce for an interpreter. + + + + First Soldier + Good captain, let me be the interpreter. + + + + Second Lord + Art not acquainted with him? knows he not thy voice? + + + + First Soldier + No, sir, I warrant you. + + + + Second Lord + But what linsey-woolsey hast thou to speak to us again? + + + + First Soldier + E'en such as you speak to me. + + + + Second Lord + He must think us some band of strangers i' the + adversary's entertainment. Now he hath a smack of + all neighbouring languages; therefore we must every + one be a man of his own fancy, not to know what we + speak one to another; so we seem to know, is to + know straight our purpose: choughs' language, + gabble enough, and good enough. As for you, + interpreter, you must seem very politic. But couch, + ho! here he comes, to beguile two hours in a sleep, + and then to return and swear the lies he forges. + + + + Enter PAROLLES + + + PAROLLES + Ten o'clock: within these three hours 'twill be + time enough to go home. What shall I say I have + done? It must be a very plausive invention that + carries it: they begin to smoke me; and disgraces + have of late knocked too often at my door. I find + my tongue is too foolhardy; but my heart hath the + fear of Mars before it and of his creatures, not + daring the reports of my tongue. + + + + Second Lord + This is the first truth that e'er thine own tongue + was guilty of. + + + + PAROLLES + What the devil should move me to undertake the + recovery of this drum, being not ignorant of the + impossibility, and knowing I had no such purpose? I + must give myself some hurts, and say I got them in + exploit: yet slight ones will not carry it; they + will say, 'Came you off with so little?' and great + ones I dare not give. Wherefore, what's the + instance? Tongue, I must put you into a + butter-woman's mouth and buy myself another of + Bajazet's mule, if you prattle me into these perils. + + + + Second Lord + Is it possible he should know what he is, and be + that he is? + + + + PAROLLES + I would the cutting of my garments would serve the + turn, or the breaking of my Spanish sword. + + + + Second Lord + We cannot afford you so. + + + + PAROLLES + Or the baring of my beard; and to say it was in + stratagem. + + + + Second Lord + 'Twould not do. + + + + PAROLLES + Or to drown my clothes, and say I was stripped. + + + + Second Lord + Hardly serve. + + + + PAROLLES + Though I swore I leaped from the window of the citadel. + + + + Second Lord + How deep? + + + + PAROLLES + Thirty fathom. + + + + Second Lord + Three great oaths would scarce make that be believed. + + + + PAROLLES + I would I had any drum of the enemy's: I would swear + I recovered it. + + + + Second Lord + You shall hear one anon. + + + + PAROLLES + A drum now of the enemy's,-- + + + + Alarum within + + + Second Lord + Throca movousus, cargo, cargo, cargo. + + + + All + Cargo, cargo, cargo, villiando par corbo, cargo. + + + + PAROLLES + O, ransom, ransom! do not hide mine eyes. + + + + They seize and blindfold him + + + First Soldier + Boskos thromuldo boskos. + + + + PAROLLES + I know you are the Muskos' regiment: + And I shall lose my life for want of language; + If there be here German, or Dane, low Dutch, + Italian, or French, let him speak to me; I'll + Discover that which shall undo the Florentine. + + + + First Soldier + Boskos vauvado: I understand thee, and can speak + thy tongue. Kerely bonto, sir, betake thee to thy + faith, for seventeen poniards are at thy bosom. + + + + PAROLLES + O! + + + + First Soldier + O, pray, pray, pray! Manka revania dulche. + + + + Second Lord + Oscorbidulchos volivorco. + + + + First Soldier + The general is content to spare thee yet; + And, hoodwink'd as thou art, will lead thee on + To gather from thee: haply thou mayst inform + Something to save thy life. + + + + PAROLLES + O, let me live! + And all the secrets of our camp I'll show, + Their force, their purposes; nay, I'll speak that + Which you will wonder at. + + + + First Soldier + But wilt thou faithfully? + + + + PAROLLES + If I do not, damn me. + + + + First Soldier + Acordo linta. + Come on; thou art granted space. + + + + Exit, with PAROLLES guarded. A short alarum within + + + Second Lord + Go, tell the Count Rousillon, and my brother, + We have caught the woodcock, and will keep him muffled + Till we do hear from them. + + + + Second Soldier + Captain, I will. + + + + Second Lord + A' will betray us all unto ourselves: + Inform on that. + + + + Second Soldier + So I will, sir. + + + + Second Lord + Till then I'll keep him dark and safely lock'd. + + + + Exeunt + + + + SCENE II. Florence. The Widow's house. + Enter BERTRAM and DIANA + + + BERTRAM + They told me that your name was Fontibell. + + + + DIANA + No, my good lord, Diana. + + + + BERTRAM + Titled goddess; + And worth it, with addition! But, fair soul, + In your fine frame hath love no quality? + If quick fire of youth light not your mind, + You are no maiden, but a monument: + When you are dead, you should be such a one + As you are now, for you are cold and stem; + And now you should be as your mother was + When your sweet self was got. + + + + DIANA + She then was honest. + + + + BERTRAM + So should you be. + + + + DIANA + No: + My mother did but duty; such, my lord, + As you owe to your wife. + + + + BERTRAM + No more o' that; + I prithee, do not strive against my vows: + I was compell'd to her; but I love thee + By love's own sweet constraint, and will for ever + Do thee all rights of service. + + + + DIANA + Ay, so you serve us + Till we serve you; but when you have our roses, + You barely leave our thorns to prick ourselves + And mock us with our bareness. + + + + BERTRAM + How have I sworn! + + + + DIANA + 'Tis not the many oaths that makes the truth, + But the plain single vow that is vow'd true. + What is not holy, that we swear not by, + But take the High'st to witness: then, pray you, tell me, + If I should swear by God's great attributes, + I loved you dearly, would you believe my oaths, + When I did love you ill? This has 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 unseal'd, + At least in my opinion. + + + + BERTRAM + Change it, change it; + Be not so holy-cruel: love is holy; + And my integrity ne'er knew the crafts + That you do charge men with. Stand no more off, + But give thyself unto my sick desires, + Who then recover: say thou art mine, and ever + My love as it begins shall so persever. + + + + DIANA + I see that men make ropes in such a scarre + That we'll forsake ourselves. Give me that ring. + + + + BERTRAM + I'll lend it thee, my dear; but have no power + To give it from me. + + + + DIANA + Will you not, my lord? + + + + BERTRAM + It is an honour 'longing to our house, + Bequeathed down from many ancestors; + Which were the greatest obloquy i' the world + In me to lose. + + + + DIANA + Mine honour's such a ring: + My chastity's the jewel of our house, + Bequeathed down from many ancestors; + Which were the greatest obloquy i' the world + In me to lose: thus your own proper wisdom + Brings in the champion Honour on my part, + Against your vain assault. + + + + BERTRAM + Here, take my ring: + My house, mine honour, yea, my life, be thine, + And I'll be bid by thee. + + + + DIANA + When midnight comes, knock at my chamber-window: + I'll order take my mother shall not hear. + Now will I charge you in the band of truth, + When you have conquer'd my yet maiden bed, + Remain there but an hour, nor speak to me: + My reasons are most strong; and you shall know them + When back again this ring shall be deliver'd: + And on your finger in the night I'll put + Another ring, that what in time proceeds + May token to the future our past deeds. + Adieu, till then; then, fail not. You have won + A wife of me, though there my hope be done. + + + + BERTRAM + A heaven on earth I have won by wooing thee. + + + + Exit + + + DIANA + For which live long to thank both heaven and me! + You may so in the end. + My mother told me just 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 cozen him that would unjustly win. + + + + Exit + + + + SCENE III. The Florentine camp. + Enter the two French Lords and some two or three Soldiers + + + First Lord + You have not given him his mother's letter? + + + + Second Lord + I have delivered it an hour since: there is + something in't that stings his nature; for on the + reading it he changed almost into another man. + + + + First Lord + He has much worthy blame laid upon him for shaking + off so good a wife and so sweet a lady. + + + + Second Lord + Especially he hath incurred the everlasting + displeasure of the king, who had even tuned his + bounty to sing happiness to him. I will tell you a + thing, but you shall let it dwell darkly with you. + + + + First Lord + When you have spoken it, 'tis dead, and I am the + grave of it. + + + + Second Lord + He hath perverted a young gentlewoman here in + Florence, of a most chaste renown; and this night he + fleshes his will in the spoil of her honour: he hath + given her his monumental ring, and thinks himself + made in the unchaste composition. + + + + First Lord + Now, God delay our rebellion! as we are ourselves, + what things are we! + + + + Second Lord + Merely our own traitors. And as in the common course + of all treasons, we still see them reveal + themselves, till they attain to their abhorred ends, + so he that in this action contrives against his own + nobility, in his proper stream o'erflows himself. + + + + First Lord + Is it not meant damnable in us, to be trumpeters of + our unlawful intents? We shall not then have his + company to-night? + + + + Second Lord + Not till after midnight; for he is dieted to his hour. + + + + First Lord + That approaches apace; I would gladly have him see + his company anatomized, that he might take a measure + of his own judgments, wherein so curiously he had + set this counterfeit. + + + + Second Lord + We will not meddle with him till he come; for his + presence must be the whip of the other. + + + + First Lord + In the mean time, what hear you of these wars? + + + + Second Lord + I hear there is an overture of peace. + + + + First Lord + Nay, I assure you, a peace concluded. + + + + Second Lord + What will Count Rousillon do then? will he travel + higher, or return again into France? + + + + First Lord + I perceive, by this demand, you are not altogether + of his council. + + + + Second Lord + Let it be forbid, sir; so should I be a great deal + of his act. + + + + First Lord + Sir, his wife some two months since fled from his + house: her pretence is a pilgrimage to Saint Jaques + le Grand; which holy undertaking with most austere + sanctimony she accomplished; and, there residing the + tenderness of her nature became as a prey to her + grief; in fine, made a groan of her last breath, and + now she sings in heaven. + + + + Second Lord + How is this justified? + + + + First Lord + The stronger part of it by her own letters, which + makes her story true, even to the point of her + death: her death itself, which could not be her + office to say is come, was faithfully confirmed by + the rector of the place. + + + + Second Lord + Hath the count all this intelligence? + + + + First Lord + Ay, and the particular confirmations, point from + point, so to the full arming of the verity. + + + + Second Lord + I am heartily sorry that he'll be glad of this. + + + + First Lord + How mightily sometimes we make us comforts of our losses! + + + + Second Lord + And how mightily some other times we drown our gain + in tears! The great dignity that his valour hath + here acquired for him shall at home be encountered + with a shame as ample. + + + + First Lord + The web of our life is of a mingled yarn, good and + ill together: our virtues would be proud, if our + faults whipped them not; and our crimes would + despair, if they were not cherished by our virtues. + Enter a Messenger + How now! where's your master? + + + + Servant + He met the duke in the street, sir, of whom he hath + taken a solemn leave: his lordship will next + morning for France. The duke hath offered him + letters of commendations to the king. + + + + Second Lord + They shall be no more than needful there, if they + were more than they can commend. + + + + First Lord + They cannot be too sweet for the king's tartness. + Here's his lordship now. + Enter BERTRAM + How now, my lord! is't not after midnight? + + + + BERTRAM + I have to-night dispatched sixteen businesses, a + month's length a-piece, by an abstract of success: + I have congied with the duke, done my adieu with his + nearest; buried a wife, mourned for her; writ to my + lady mother I am returning; entertained my convoy; + and between these main parcels of dispatch effected + many nicer needs; the last was the greatest, but + that I have not ended yet. + + + + Second Lord + If the business be of any difficulty, and this + morning your departure hence, it requires haste of + your lordship. + + + + BERTRAM + I mean, the business is not ended, as fearing to + hear of it hereafter. But shall we have this + dialogue between the fool and the soldier? Come, + bring forth this counterfeit module, he has deceived + me, like a double-meaning prophesier. + + + + Second Lord + Bring him forth: has sat i' the stocks all night, + poor gallant knave. + + + + BERTRAM + No matter: his heels have deserved it, in usurping + his spurs so long. How does he carry himself? + + + + Second Lord + I have told your lordship already, the stocks carry + him. But to answer you as you would be understood; + he weeps like a wench that had shed her milk: he + hath confessed himself to Morgan, whom he supposes + to be a friar, from the time of his remembrance to + this very instant disaster of his setting i' the + stocks: and what think you he hath confessed? + + + + BERTRAM + Nothing of me, has a'? + + + + Second Lord + His confession is taken, and it shall be read to his + face: if your lordship be in't, as I believe you + are, you must have the patience to hear it. + + + + Enter PAROLLES guarded, and First Soldier + + + BERTRAM + A plague upon him! muffled! he can say nothing of + me: hush, hush! + + + + First Lord + Hoodman comes! Portotartarosa + + + + First Soldier + He calls for the tortures: what will you say + without 'em? + + + + PAROLLES + I will confess what I know without constraint: if + ye pinch me like a pasty, I can say no more. + + + + First Soldier + Bosko chimurcho. + + + + First Lord + Boblibindo chicurmurco. + + + + First Soldier + You are a merciful general. Our general bids you + answer to what I shall ask you out of a note. + + + + PAROLLES + And truly, as I hope to live. + + + + First Soldier + + Reads 'First demand of him how many horse the + duke is strong.' What say you to that? + + + + PAROLLES + Five or six thousand; but very weak and + unserviceable: the troops are all scattered, and + the commanders very poor rogues, upon my reputation + and credit and as I hope to live. + + + + First Soldier + Shall I set down your answer so? + + + + PAROLLES + Do: I'll take the sacrament on't, how and which way you will. + + + + BERTRAM + All's one to him. What a past-saving slave is this! + + + + First Lord + You're deceived, my lord: this is Monsieur + Parolles, the gallant militarist,--that was his own + phrase,--that had the whole theoric of war in the + knot of his scarf, and the practise in the chape of + his dagger. + + + + Second Lord + I will never trust a man again for keeping his sword + clean. nor believe he can have every thing in him + by wearing his apparel neatly. + + + + First Soldier + Well, that's set down. + + + + PAROLLES + Five or six thousand horse, I said,-- I will say + true,--or thereabouts, set down, for I'll speak truth. + + + + First Lord + He's very near the truth in this. + + + + BERTRAM + But I con him no thanks for't, in the nature he + delivers it. + + + + PAROLLES + Poor rogues, I pray you, say. + + + + First Soldier + Well, that's set down. + + + + PAROLLES + I humbly thank you, sir: a truth's a truth, the + rogues are marvellous poor. + + + + First Soldier + + Reads 'Demand of him, of what strength they are + a-foot.' What say you to that? + + + + PAROLLES + By my troth, sir, if I were to live this present + hour, I will tell true. Let me see: Spurio, a + hundred and fifty; Sebastian, so many; Corambus, so + many; Jaques, so many; Guiltian, Cosmo, Lodowick, + and Gratii, two hundred and fifty each; mine own + company, Chitopher, Vaumond, Bentii, two hundred and + fifty each: so that the muster-file, rotten and + sound, upon my life, amounts not to fifteen thousand + poll; half of the which dare not shake snow from off + their cassocks, lest they shake themselves to pieces. + + + + BERTRAM + What shall be done to him? + + + + First Lord + Nothing, but let him have thanks. Demand of him my + condition, and what credit I have with the duke. + + + + First Soldier + Well, that's set down. + Reads + 'You shall demand of him, whether one Captain Dumain + be i' the camp, a Frenchman; what his reputation is + with the duke; what his valour, honesty, and + expertness in wars; or whether he thinks it were not + possible, with well-weighing sums of gold, to + corrupt him to revolt.' What say you to this? what + do you know of it? + + + + PAROLLES + I beseech you, let me answer to the particular of + the inter'gatories: demand them singly. + + + + First Soldier + Do you know this Captain Dumain? + + + + PAROLLES + I know him: a' was a botcher's 'prentice in Paris, + from whence he was whipped for getting the shrieve's + fool with child,--a dumb innocent, that could not + say him nay. + + + + BERTRAM + Nay, by your leave, hold your hands; though I know + his brains are forfeit to the next tile that falls. + + + + First Soldier + Well, is this captain in the duke of Florence's camp? + + + + PAROLLES + Upon my knowledge, he is, and lousy. + + + + First Lord + Nay look not so upon me; we shall hear of your + lordship anon. + + + + First Soldier + What is his reputation with the duke? + + + + PAROLLES + The duke knows him for no other but a poor officer + of mine; and writ to me this other day to turn him + out o' the band: I think I have his letter in my pocket. + + + + First Soldier + Marry, we'll search. + + + + PAROLLES + In good sadness, I do not know; either it is there, + or it is upon a file with the duke's other letters + in my tent. + + + + First Soldier + Here 'tis; here's a paper: shall I read it to you? + + + + PAROLLES + I do not know if it be it or no. + + + + BERTRAM + Our interpreter does it well. + + + + First Lord + Excellently. + + + + First Soldier + + Reads 'Dian, the count's a fool, and full of gold,'-- + + + + PAROLLES + That is not the duke's letter, sir; that is an + advertisement to a proper maid in Florence, one + Diana, to take heed of the allurement of one Count + Rousillon, a foolish idle boy, but for all that very + ruttish: I pray you, sir, put it up again. + + + + First Soldier + Nay, I'll read it first, by your favour. + + + + PAROLLES + My meaning in't, I protest, was very honest in the + behalf of the maid; for I knew the young count to be + a dangerous and lascivious boy, who is a whale to + virginity and devours up all the fry it finds. + + + + BERTRAM + Damnable both-sides rogue! + + + + First Soldier + + Reads 'When he swears oaths, bid him drop gold, and take it; + After he scores, he never pays the score: + Half won is match well made; match, and well make it; + He ne'er pays after-debts, take it before; + And say a soldier, Dian, told thee this, + Men are to mell with, boys are not to kiss: + For count of this, the count's a fool, I know it, + Who pays before, but not when he does owe it. + Thine, as he vowed to thee in thine ear, + PAROLLES.' + + + + BERTRAM + He shall be whipped through the army with this rhyme + in's forehead. + + + + Second Lord + This is your devoted friend, sir, the manifold + linguist and the armipotent soldier. + + + + BERTRAM + I could endure any thing before but a cat, and now + he's a cat to me. + + + + First Soldier + I perceive, sir, by the general's looks, we shall be + fain to hang you. + + + + PAROLLES + My life, sir, in any case: not that I am afraid to + die; but that, my offences being many, I would + repent out the remainder of nature: let me live, + sir, in a dungeon, i' the stocks, or any where, so I may live. + + + + First Soldier + We'll see what may be done, so you confess freely; + therefore, once more to this Captain Dumain: you + have answered to his reputation with the duke and to + his valour: what is his honesty? + + + + PAROLLES + He will steal, sir, an egg out of a cloister: for + rapes and ravishments he parallels Nessus: he + professes not keeping of oaths; in breaking 'em he + is stronger than Hercules: he will lie, sir, with + such volubility, that you would think truth were a + fool: drunkenness is his best virtue, for he will + be swine-drunk; and in his sleep he does little + harm, save to his bed-clothes about him; but they + know his conditions and lay him in straw. I have but + little more to say, sir, of his honesty: he has + every thing that an honest man should not have; what + an honest man should have, he has nothing. + + + + First Lord + I begin to love him for this. + + + + BERTRAM + For this description of thine honesty? A pox upon + him for me, he's more and more a cat. + + + + First Soldier + What say you to his expertness in war? + + + + PAROLLES + Faith, sir, he has led the drum before the English + tragedians; to belie him, I will not, and more of + his soldiership I know not; except, in that country + he had the honour to be the officer at a place there + called Mile-end, to instruct for the doubling of + files: I would do the man what honour I can, but of + this I am not certain. + + + + First Lord + He hath out-villained villany so far, that the + rarity redeems him. + + + + BERTRAM + A pox on him, he's a cat still. + + + + First Soldier + His qualities being at this poor price, I need not + to ask you if gold will corrupt him to revolt. + + + + PAROLLES + Sir, for a quart d'ecu he will sell the fee-simple + of his salvation, the inheritance of it; and cut the + entail from all remainders, and a perpetual + succession for it perpetually. + + + + First Soldier + What's his brother, the other Captain Dumain? + + + + Second Lord + Why does be ask him of me? + + + + First Soldier + What's he? + + + + PAROLLES + E'en a crow o' the same nest; not altogether so + great as the first in goodness, but greater a great + deal in evil: he excels his brother for a coward, + yet his brother is reputed one of the best that is: + in a retreat he outruns any lackey; marry, in coming + on he has the cramp. + + + + First Soldier + If your life be saved, will you undertake to betray + the Florentine? + + + + PAROLLES + Ay, and the captain of his horse, Count Rousillon. + + + + First Soldier + I'll whisper with the general, and know his pleasure. + + + + PAROLLES + + Aside I'll no more drumming; a plague of all + drums! Only to seem to deserve well, and to + beguile the supposition of that lascivious young boy + the count, have I run into this danger. Yet who + would have suspected an ambush where I was taken? + + + + First Soldier + There is no remedy, sir, but you must die: the + general says, you that have so traitorously + discovered the secrets of your army and made such + pestiferous reports of men very nobly held, can + serve the world for no honest use; therefore you + must die. Come, headsman, off with his head. + + + + PAROLLES + O Lord, sir, let me live, or let me see my death! + + + + First Lord + That shall you, and take your leave of all your friends. + Unblinding him + So, look about you: know you any here? + + + + BERTRAM + Good morrow, noble captain. + + + + Second Lord + God bless you, Captain Parolles. + + + + First Lord + God save you, noble captain. + + + + Second Lord + Captain, what greeting will you to my Lord Lafeu? + I am for France. + + + + First Lord + Good captain, will you give me a copy of the sonnet + you writ to Diana in behalf of the Count Rousillon? + an I were not a very coward, I'ld compel it of you: + but fare you well. + + + + Exeunt BERTRAM and Lords + + + First Soldier + You are undone, captain, all but your scarf; that + has a knot on't yet + + + + PAROLLES + Who cannot be crushed with a plot? + + + + First Soldier + If you could find out a country where but women were + that had received so much shame, you might begin an + impudent nation. Fare ye well, sir; I am for France + too: we shall speak of you there. + + + + Exit with Soldiers + + + PAROLLES + Yet am I thankful: if my heart were great, + 'Twould burst at this. Captain I'll be no more; + But I will eat and drink, and sleep as soft + As captain shall: simply the thing I am + Shall make me live. Who knows himself a braggart, + Let him fear this, for it will come to pass + that every braggart shall be found an ass. + Rust, sword? cool, blushes! and, Parolles, live + Safest in shame! being fool'd, by foolery thrive! + There's place and means for every man alive. + I'll after them. + + + + Exit + + + + SCENE IV. Florence. The Widow's house. + Enter HELENA, Widow, and DIANA + + + HELENA + That you may well perceive I have not wrong'd you, + One of the greatest in the Christian world + Shall be my surety; 'fore whose throne 'tis needful, + Ere I can perfect mine intents, to kneel: + Time was, I did him a desired office, + Dear almost as his life; which gratitude + Through flinty Tartar's bosom would peep forth, + And answer, thanks: I duly am inform'd + His grace is at Marseilles; to which place + We have convenient convoy. You must know + I am supposed dead: the army breaking, + My husband hies him home; where, heaven aiding, + And by the leave of my good lord the king, + We'll be before our welcome. + + + + Widow + Gentle madam, + You never had a servant to whose trust + Your business was more welcome. + + + + HELENA + Nor you, mistress, + Ever a friend whose thoughts more truly labour + To recompense your love: doubt not but heaven + Hath brought me up to be your daughter's dower, + As it hath fated her to be my motive + And helper to a husband. But, O strange men! + That can such sweet use make of what they hate, + When saucy trusting of the cozen'd thoughts + Defiles the pitchy night: so lust doth play + With what it loathes for that which is away. + But more of this hereafter. You, Diana, + Under my poor instructions yet must suffer + Something in my behalf. + + + + DIANA + Let death and honesty + Go with your impositions, I am yours + Upon your will to suffer. + + + + HELENA + Yet, I pray you: + But with the word the time will bring on summer, + When briers shall have leaves as well as thorns, + And be as sweet as sharp. We must away; + Our wagon is prepared, and time revives us: + All's well that ends well; still the fine's the crown; + Whate'er the course, the end is the renown. + + + + Exeunt + + + + SCENE V. Rousillon. The COUNT's palace. + Enter COUNTESS, LAFEU, and Clown + + + LAFEU + No, no, no, your son was misled with a snipt-taffeta + fellow there, whose villanous saffron would have + made all the unbaked and doughy youth of a nation in + his colour: your daughter-in-law had been alive at + this hour, and your son here at home, more advanced + by the king than by that red-tailed humble-bee I speak of. + + + + COUNTESS + I would I had not known him; it was the death of the + most virtuous gentlewoman that ever nature had + praise for creating. If she had partaken of my + flesh, and cost me the dearest groans of a mother, I + could not have owed her a more rooted love. + + + + LAFEU + 'Twas a good lady, 'twas a good lady: we may pick a + thousand salads ere we light on such another herb. + + + + Clown + Indeed, sir, she was the sweet marjoram of the + salad, or rather, the herb of grace. + + + + LAFEU + They are not herbs, you knave; they are nose-herbs. + + + + Clown + I am no great Nebuchadnezzar, sir; I have not much + skill in grass. + + + + LAFEU + Whether dost thou profess thyself, a knave or a fool? + + + + Clown + A fool, sir, at a woman's service, and a knave at a man's. + + + + LAFEU + Your distinction? + + + + Clown + I would cozen the man of his wife and do his service. + + + + LAFEU + So you were a knave at his service, indeed. + + + + Clown + And I would give his wife my bauble, sir, to do her service. + + + + LAFEU + I will subscribe for thee, thou art both knave and fool. + + + + Clown + At your service. + + + + LAFEU + No, no, no. + + + + Clown + Why, sir, if I cannot serve you, I can serve as + great a prince as you are. + + + + LAFEU + Who's that? a Frenchman? + + + + Clown + Faith, sir, a' has an English name; but his fisnomy + is more hotter in France than there. + + + + LAFEU + What prince is that? + + + + Clown + The black prince, sir; alias, the prince of + darkness; alias, the devil. + + + + LAFEU + Hold thee, there's my purse: I give thee not this + to suggest thee from thy master thou talkest of; + serve him still. + + + + Clown + I am a woodland fellow, sir, that always loved a + great fire; and the master I speak of ever keeps a + good fire. But, sure, he is the prince of the + world; let his nobility remain in's court. I am for + the house with the narrow gate, which I take to be + too little for pomp to enter: some that humble + themselves may; but the many will be too chill and + tender, and they'll be for the flowery way that + leads to the broad gate and the great fire. + + + + LAFEU + Go thy ways, I begin to be aweary of thee; and I + tell thee so before, because I would not fall out + with thee. Go thy ways: let my horses be well + looked to, without any tricks. + + + + Clown + If I put any tricks upon 'em, sir, they shall be + jades' tricks; which are their own right by the law of nature. + + + + Exit + + + LAFEU + A shrewd knave and an unhappy. + + + + COUNTESS + So he is. My lord that's gone made himself much + sport out of him: by his authority he remains here, + which he thinks is a patent for his sauciness; and, + indeed, he has no pace, but runs where he will. + + + + LAFEU + I like him well; 'tis not amiss. And I was about to + tell you, since I heard of the good lady's death and + that my lord your son was upon his return home, I + moved the king my master to speak in the behalf of + my daughter; which, in the minority of them both, + his majesty, out of a self-gracious remembrance, did + first propose: his highness hath promised me to do + it: and, to stop up the displeasure he hath + conceived against your son, there is no fitter + matter. How does your ladyship like it? + + + + COUNTESS + With very much content, my lord; and I wish it + happily effected. + + + + LAFEU + His highness comes post from Marseilles, of as able + body as when he numbered thirty: he will be here + to-morrow, or I am deceived by him that in such + intelligence hath seldom failed. + + + + COUNTESS + It rejoices me, that I hope I shall see him ere I + die. I have letters that my son will be here + to-night: I shall beseech your lordship to remain + with me till they meet together. + + + + LAFEU + Madam, I was thinking with what manners I might + safely be admitted. + + + + COUNTESS + You need but plead your honourable privilege. + + + + LAFEU + Lady, of that I have made a bold charter; but I + thank my God it holds yet. + + + + Re-enter Clown + + + Clown + O madam, yonder's my lord your son with a patch of + velvet on's face: whether there be a scar under't + or no, the velvet knows; but 'tis a goodly patch of + velvet: his left cheek is a cheek of two pile and a + half, but his right cheek is worn bare. + + + + LAFEU + A scar nobly got, or a noble scar, is a good livery + of honour; so belike is that. + + + + Clown + But it is your carbonadoed face. + + + + LAFEU + Let us go see your son, I pray you: I long to talk + with the young noble soldier. + + + + Clown + Faith there's a dozen of 'em, with delicate fine + hats and most courteous feathers, which bow the head + and nod at every man. + + + + Exeunt + + + + + + ACT V + + + SCENE I. Marseilles. A street. + Enter HELENA, Widow, and DIANA, with two +Attendants + + + HELENA + But this exceeding posting day and night + Must wear your spirits low; we cannot help it: + But since you have made the days and nights as one, + To wear your gentle limbs in my affairs, + Be bold you do so grow in my requital + As nothing can unroot you. In happy time; + Enter a Gentleman + This man may help me to his majesty's ear, + If he would spend his power. God save you, sir. + + + + Gentleman + And you. + + + + HELENA + Sir, I have seen you in the court of France. + + + + Gentleman + I have been sometimes there. + + + + HELENA + I do presume, sir, that you are not fallen + From the report that goes upon your goodness; + An therefore, goaded with most sharp occasions, + Which lay nice manners by, I put you to + The use of your own virtues, for the which + I shall continue thankful. + + + + Gentleman + What's your will? + + + + HELENA + That it will please you + To give this poor petition to the king, + And aid me with that store of power you have + To come into his presence. + + + + Gentleman + The king's not here. + + + + HELENA + Not here, sir! + + + + Gentleman + Not, indeed: + He hence removed last night and with more haste + Than is his use. + + + + Widow + Lord, how we lose our pains! + + + + HELENA + All's well that ends well yet, + Though time seem so adverse and means unfit. + I do beseech you, whither is he gone? + + + + Gentleman + Marry, as I take it, to Rousillon; + Whither I am going. + + + + HELENA + I do beseech you, sir, + Since you are like to see the king before me, + Commend the paper to his gracious hand, + Which I presume shall render you no blame + But rather make you thank your pains for it. + I will come after you with what good speed + Our means will make us means. + + + + Gentleman + This I'll do for you. + + + + HELENA + And you shall find yourself to be well thank'd, + Whate'er falls more. We must to horse again. + Go, go, provide. + + + + Exeunt + + + + SCENE II. Rousillon. Before the COUNT's palace. + Enter Clown, and PAROLLES, following + + + PAROLLES + Good Monsieur Lavache, give my Lord Lafeu this + letter: I have ere now, sir, been better known to + you, when I have held familiarity with fresher + clothes; but I am now, sir, muddied in fortune's + mood, and smell somewhat strong of her strong + displeasure. + + + + Clown + Truly, fortune's displeasure is but sluttish, if it + smell so strongly as thou speakest of: I will + henceforth eat no fish of fortune's buttering. + Prithee, allow the wind. + + + + PAROLLES + Nay, you need not to stop your nose, sir; I spake + but by a metaphor. + + + + Clown + Indeed, sir, if your metaphor stink, I will stop my + nose; or against any man's metaphor. Prithee, get + thee further. + + + + PAROLLES + Pray you, sir, deliver me this paper. + + + + Clown + Foh! prithee, stand away: a paper from fortune's + close-stool to give to a nobleman! Look, here he + comes himself. + Enter LAFEU + Here is a purr of fortune's, sir, or of fortune's + cat,--but not a musk-cat,--that has fallen into the + unclean fishpond of her displeasure, and, as he + says, is muddied withal: pray you, sir, use the + carp as you may; for he looks like a poor, decayed, + ingenious, foolish, rascally knave. I do pity his + distress in my similes of comfort and leave him to + your lordship. + + + + Exit + + + PAROLLES + My lord, I am a man whom fortune hath cruelly + scratched. + + + + LAFEU + And what would you have me to do? 'Tis too late to + pare her nails now. Wherein have you played the + knave with fortune, that she should scratch you, who + of herself is a good lady and would not have knaves + thrive long under her? There's a quart d'ecu for + you: let the justices make you and fortune friends: + I am for other business. + + + + PAROLLES + I beseech your honour to hear me one single word. + + + + LAFEU + You beg a single penny more: come, you shall ha't; + save your word. + + + + PAROLLES + My name, my good lord, is Parolles. + + + + LAFEU + You beg more than 'word,' then. Cox my passion! + give me your hand. How does your drum? + + + + PAROLLES + O my good lord, you were the first that found me! + + + + LAFEU + Was I, in sooth? and I was the first that lost thee. + + + + PAROLLES + It lies in you, my lord, to bring me in some grace, + for you did bring me out. + + + + LAFEU + Out upon thee, knave! dost thou put upon me at once + both the office of God and the devil? One brings + thee in grace and the other brings thee out. + Trumpets sound + The king's coming; I know by his trumpets. Sirrah, + inquire further after me; I had talk of you last + night: though you are a fool and a knave, you shall + eat; go to, follow. + + + + PAROLLES + I praise God for you. + + + + Exeunt + + + + SCENE III. Rousillon. The COUNT's palace. + Flourish. Enter KING, COUNTESS, LAFEU, the two +French Lords, with Attendants + + + KING + We lost a jewel of her; and our esteem + Was made much poorer by it: but your son, + As mad in folly, lack'd the sense to know + Her estimation home. + + + + COUNTESS + 'Tis past, my liege; + And I beseech your majesty to make it + Natural rebellion, done i' the blaze of youth; + When oil and fire, too strong for reason's force, + O'erbears it and burns on. + + + + KING + My honour'd lady, + I have forgiven and forgotten all; + Though my revenges were high bent upon him, + And watch'd the time to shoot. + + + + LAFEU + This I must say, + But first I beg my pardon, the young lord + Did to his majesty, his mother and his lady + Offence of mighty note; but to himself + The greatest wrong of all. He lost a wife + Whose beauty did astonish the survey + Of richest eyes, whose words all ears took captive, + Whose dear perfection hearts that scorn'd to serve + Humbly call'd mistress. + + + + KING + Praising what is lost + Makes the remembrance dear. Well, call him hither; + We are reconciled, and the first view shall kill + All repetition: let him not ask our pardon; + The nature of his great offence is dead, + And deeper than oblivion we do bury + The incensing relics of it: let him approach, + A stranger, no offender; and inform him + So 'tis our will he should. + + + + Gentleman + I shall, my liege. + + + + Exit + + + KING + What says he to your daughter? have you spoke? + + + + LAFEU + All that he is hath reference to your highness. + + + + KING + Then shall we have a match. I have letters sent me + That set him high in fame. + + + + Enter BERTRAM + + + LAFEU + He looks well on't. + + + + KING + I am not a day of season, + For thou mayst see a sunshine and a hail + In me at once: but to the brightest beams + Distracted clouds give way; so stand thou forth; + The time is fair again. + + + + BERTRAM + My high-repented blames, + Dear sovereign, pardon to me. + + + + KING + All is whole; + Not one word more of the consumed time. + Let's take the instant by the forward top; + For we are old, and on our quick'st decrees + The inaudible and noiseless foot of Time + Steals ere we can effect them. You remember + The daughter of this lord? + + + + BERTRAM + Admiringly, my liege, at first + I stuck my choice upon her, ere my heart + Durst make too bold a herald of my tongue + Where the impression of mine eye infixing, + Contempt his scornful perspective did lend me, + Which warp'd the line of every other favour; + Scorn'd a fair colour, or express'd it stolen; + Extended or contracted all proportions + To a most hideous object: thence it came + That she whom all men praised and whom myself, + Since I have lost, have loved, was in mine eye + The dust that did offend it. + + + + KING + Well excused: + That thou didst love her, strikes some scores away + From the great compt: but love that comes too late, + Like a remorseful pardon slowly carried, + To the great sender turns a sour offence, + Crying, 'That's good that's gone.' Our rash faults + Make trivial price of serious things we have, + Not knowing them until we know their grave: + Oft our displeasures, to ourselves unjust, + Destroy our friends and after weep their dust + Our own love waking cries to see what's done, + While shame full late sleeps out the afternoon. + Be this sweet Helen's knell, and now forget her. + Send forth your amorous token for fair Maudlin: + The main consents are had; and here we'll stay + To see our widower's second marriage-day. + + + + COUNTESS + Which better than the first, O dear heaven, bless! + Or, ere they meet, in me, O nature, cesse! + + + + LAFEU + Come on, my son, in whom my house's name + Must be digested, give a favour from you + To sparkle in the spirits of my daughter, + That she may quickly come. + BERTRAM gives a ring + By my old beard, + And every hair that's on't, Helen, that's dead, + Was a sweet creature: such a ring as this, + The last that e'er I took her at court, + I saw upon her finger. + + + + BERTRAM + Hers it was not. + + + + KING + Now, pray you, let me see it; for mine eye, + While I was speaking, oft was fasten'd to't. + This ring was mine; and, when I gave it Helen, + I bade her, if her fortunes ever stood + Necessitied to help, that by this token + I would relieve her. Had you that craft, to reave + her + Of what should stead her most? + + + + BERTRAM + My gracious sovereign, + Howe'er it pleases you to take it so, + The ring was never hers. + + + + COUNTESS + Son, on my life, + I have seen her wear it; and she reckon'd it + At her life's rate. + + + + LAFEU + I am sure I saw her wear it. + + + + BERTRAM + You are deceived, my lord; she never saw it: + In Florence was it from a casement thrown me, + Wrapp'd in a paper, which contain'd the name + Of her that threw it: noble she was, and thought + I stood engaged: but when I had subscribed + To mine own fortune and inform'd her fully + I could not answer in that course of honour + As she had made the overture, she ceased + In heavy satisfaction and would never + Receive the ring again. + + + + KING + Plutus himself, + That knows the tinct and multiplying medicine, + Hath not in nature's mystery more science + Than I have in this ring: 'twas mine, 'twas Helen's, + Whoever gave it you. Then, if you know + That you are well acquainted with yourself, + Confess 'twas hers, and by what rough enforcement + You got it from her: she call'd the saints to surety + That she would never put it from her finger, + Unless she gave it to yourself in bed, + Where you have never come, or sent it us + Upon her great disaster. + + + + BERTRAM + She never saw it. + + + + KING + Thou speak'st it falsely, as I love mine honour; + And makest conjectural fears to come into me + Which I would fain shut out. If it should prove + That thou art so inhuman,--'twill not prove so;-- + And yet I know not: thou didst hate her deadly, + And she is dead; which nothing, but to close + Her eyes myself, could win me to believe, + More than to see this ring. Take him away. + Guards seize BERTRAM + My fore-past proofs, howe'er the matter fall, + Shall tax my fears of little vanity, + Having vainly fear'd too little. Away with him! + We'll sift this matter further. + + + + BERTRAM + If you shall prove + This ring was ever hers, you shall as easy + Prove that I husbanded her bed in Florence, + Where yet she never was. + + + + Exit, guarded + + + KING + I am wrapp'd in dismal thinkings. + + + + Enter a Gentleman + + + Gentleman + Gracious sovereign, + Whether I have been to blame or no, I know not: + Here's a petition from a Florentine, + Who hath for four or five removes come short + To tender it herself. I undertook it, + Vanquish'd thereto by the fair grace and speech + Of the poor suppliant, who by this I know + Is here attending: her business looks in her + With an importing visage; and she told me, + In a sweet verbal brief, it did concern + Your highness with herself. + + + + KING + + Reads Upon his many protestations to marry me + when his wife was dead, I blush to say it, he won + me. Now is the Count Rousillon a widower: his vows + are forfeited to me, and my honour's paid to him. He + stole from Florence, taking no leave, and I follow + him to his country for justice: grant it me, O + king! in you it best lies; otherwise a seducer + flourishes, and a poor maid is undone. + DIANA CAPILET. + + + + LAFEU + I will buy me a son-in-law in a fair, and toll for + this: I'll none of him. + + + + KING + The heavens have thought well on thee Lafeu, + To bring forth this discovery. Seek these suitors: + Go speedily and bring again the count. + I am afeard the life of Helen, lady, + Was foully snatch'd. + + + + COUNTESS + Now, justice on the doers! + + + + Re-enter BERTRAM, guarded + + + KING + I wonder, sir, sith wives are monsters to you, + And that you fly them as you swear them lordship, + Yet you desire to marry. + Enter Widow and DIANA + What woman's that? + + + + DIANA + 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. + + + + Widow + I am her mother, sir, whose age and honour + Both suffer under this complaint we bring, + And both shall cease, without your remedy. + + + + KING + Come hither, count; do you know these women? + + + + BERTRAM + My lord, I neither can nor will deny + But that I know them: do they charge me further? + + + + DIANA + Why do you look so strange upon your wife? + + + + BERTRAM + She's none of mine, my lord. + + + + DIANA + If you shall marry, + You give away this hand, and that is mine; + You give away heaven's vows, and those are mine; + You give away myself, which is known mine; + For I by vow am so embodied yours, + That she which marries you must marry me, + Either both or none. + + + + LAFEU + Your reputation comes too short for my daughter; you + are no husband for her. + + + + BERTRAM + My lord, this is a fond and desperate creature, + Whom sometime I have laugh'd with: let your highness + Lay a more noble thought upon mine honour + Than for to think that I would sink it here. + + + + KING + Sir, for my thoughts, you have them ill to friend + Till your deeds gain them: fairer prove your honour + Than in my thought it lies. + + + + DIANA + Good my lord, + Ask him upon his oath, if he does think + He had not my virginity. + + + + KING + What say'st thou to her? + + + + BERTRAM + She's impudent, my lord, + And was a common gamester to the camp. + + + + DIANA + He does me wrong, my lord; if I were so, + He might have bought me at a common price: + Do not believe him. O, behold this ring, + Whose high respect and rich validity + Did lack a parallel; yet for all that + He gave it to a commoner o' the camp, + If I be one. + + + + COUNTESS + He blushes, and 'tis it: + Of six preceding ancestors, that gem, + Conferr'd by testament to the sequent issue, + Hath it been owed and worn. This is his wife; + That ring's a thousand proofs. + + + + KING + Methought you said + You saw one here in court could witness it. + + + + DIANA + I did, my lord, but loath am to produce + So bad an instrument: his name's Parolles. + + + + LAFEU + I saw the man to-day, if man he be. + + + + KING + Find him, and bring him hither. + + + + Exit an Attendant + + + BERTRAM + What of him? + He's quoted for a most perfidious slave, + With all the spots o' the world tax'd and debosh'd; + Whose nature sickens but to speak a truth. + Am I or that or this for what he'll utter, + That will speak any thing? + + + + KING + She hath that ring of yours. + + + + BERTRAM + I think she has: certain it is I liked her, + And boarded her i' the wanton way of youth: + She knew her distance and did angle for me, + Madding my eagerness with her restraint, + As all impediments in fancy's course + Are motives of more fancy; and, in fine, + Her infinite cunning, with her modern grace, + Subdued me to her rate: she got the ring; + And I had that which any inferior might + At market-price have bought. + + + + 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 PAROLLES + + + BERTRAM + My lord, I do confess the ring was hers. + + + + KING + You boggle shrewdly, every feather stars 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. + + + + KING + Come, come, to the purpose: did he love this woman? + + + + PAROLLES + Faith, sir, he did love her; but how? + + + + KING + How, I pray you? + + + + PAROLLES + He did love her, sir, as a gentleman loves a woman. + + + + KING + How is that? + + + + PAROLLES + He loved her, sir, and loved her not. + + + + KING + As thou art a knave, and no knave. What an + equivocal companion is this! + + + + PAROLLES + I am a poor man, and at your majesty's command. + + + + LAFEU + He's a good drum, my lord, but a naughty orator. + + + + DIANA + Do you know he promised me marriage? + + + + PAROLLES + Faith, I know more than I'll speak. + + + + KING + But wilt thou not speak all thou knowest? + + + + PAROLLES + Yes, so please your majesty. I did go between them, + as I said; but more than that, he loved her: for + indeed he was mad for her, and talked 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 which would + derive me ill will to speak of; therefore I will not + speak what I know. + + + + KING + Thou hast spoken all already, unless thou canst say + they are married: but thou art too fine in thy + evidence; therefore stand aside. + This ring, you say, was yours? + + + + DIANA + Ay, my good lord. + + + + KING + Where did you buy it? or who gave it you? + + + + DIANA + It was not given me, nor I did not buy it. + + + + KING + Who lent it you? + + + + DIANA + It was not lent me neither. + + + + KING + Where did you find it, then? + + + + DIANA + I found it not. + + + + KING + If it were yours by none of all these ways, + How could you give it him? + + + + DIANA + I never gave it him. + + + + LAFEU + This woman's an easy glove, my lord; she goes off + and on at pleasure. + + + + KING + This ring was mine; I gave it his first wife. + + + + DIANA + It might be yours or hers, for aught I know. + + + + KING + Take her away; I do not like her now; + To prison with her: and away with him. + Unless thou tell'st me where thou hadst this ring, + Thou diest within this hour. + + + + DIANA + I'll never tell you. + + + + KING + Take her away. + + + + DIANA + I'll put in bail, my liege. + + + + KING + I think thee now some common customer. + + + + DIANA + By Jove, if ever I knew man, 'twas you. + + + + KING + Wherefore hast thou accused him all this while? + + + + DIANA + Because he's guilty, and he is not guilty: + He knows I am no maid, and he'll swear to'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 man's wife. + + + + KING + She does abuse our ears: to prison with her. + + + + DIANA + 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, + Who hath abused me, as he knows himself, + Though yet he never harm'd me, here I quit him: + He knows himself my bed he hath defiled; + And at that time he got 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. + + + + Re-enter Widow, with HELENA + + + KING + Is there no exorcist + Beguiles the truer office of mine eyes? + Is't real that I see? + + + + HELENA + No, my good lord; + 'Tis but the shadow of a wife you see, + The name and not the thing. + + + + BERTRAM + Both, both. O, pardon! + + + + HELENA + 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? + + + + BERTRAM + If she, my liege, can make me know this clearly, + I'll love her dearly, ever, ever dearly. + + + + HELENA + If it appear not plain and prove untrue, + Deadly divorce step between me and you! + O my dear mother, do I see you living? + + + + LAFEU + Mine eyes smell onions; I shall weep anon: + To PAROLLES + Good Tom Drum, 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. + + + + KING + Let us from point to point this story know, + To make the even truth in pleasure flow. + To DIANA + If thou be'st 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 keep'st a wife herself, thyself a maid. + Of that and all the progress, more or less, + Resolvedly more leisure shall express: + All yet seems well; and if it end so meet, + The bitter past, more welcome is the sweet. + + Flourish + + + + EPILOGUE + + KING + 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. + + + + Exeunt + + +