All's Well That Ends Well/Act 2

SCENE 1. Paris. A room in the King's palace.
[Flourish. Enter the King, with young LORDS taking leave for the Florentine war; BERTRAM, PAROLLES, and Attendants.]

KING.
 * Farewell, young lord; these war-like principles
 * Do not throw from you:—and you, my lord, 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.
 * It is 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 aloud: 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.

[The king retires to a couch.]

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 next year' and ''tis too early.'

PAROLLES.
 * An thy mind stand to it, 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.

PAROLLES.
 * Mars dote on you for his novices!

[Exeunt LORDS.]


 * What will ye do?

BERTRAM.
 * Stay; the king—

PAROLLES.
 * 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.
 * Pardon, my lord [kneeling], for me and for my tidings.

KING.
 * I'll fee thee to stand up.

LAFEU.
 * Then here's a man stands that has bought 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, and 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 Pipin, nay,
 * To give great Charlemain a pen in his hand
 * And write to her a love-line.

KING.
 * What 'her' is that?

LAFEU.
 * Why, doctor 'she': my lord, there's one arriv'd,
 * 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 amaz'd 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 the
 * 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 LAFEU.]

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 his bed of death
 * Many receipts he gave me; chiefly one,
 * Which, as the dearest issue of his practice,
 * And of his old experience the only 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 inaidable 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 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 barred:
 * 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.
 * Art thou so confident? Within what space
 * Hop'st thou my cure?

HELENA.
 * The greatest 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 dar'st thou venture?

HELENA.
 * Tax of impudence,—
 * A strumpet's boldness, a divulged shame,—
 * Traduc'd by odious ballads; my maiden's name
 * Sear'd otherwise; ne worse of worst 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 deserv'd. 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 observ'd,
 * Thy will by my performance shall be serv'd;
 * So make the choice of thy own time, for I,
 * Thy resolv'd 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 cam'st, 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 deed.

[Flourish. Exeunt.]

SCENE 2. Rousillon. A room in the COUNTESS'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 taffety punk, as Tib's rush for Tom's
 * forefinger, as a pancake for Shrove-Tuesday, a morris for Mayday,
 * as the nail to his hole, the cuckold to his horn, as a scolding
 * quean 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
 * thing's may serve long, but not serve ever.

COUNTESS.
 * I play the noble housewife with the time, to entertain it 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 3. 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; both of Galen and Paracelsus.

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,—

PAROLLES.
 * And debile minister, great power, great transcendence: which
 * should, indeed, give us a further use to be made than alone
 * the recov'ry of the king, as to be,—

LAFEU.
 * Generally thankful.

PAROLLES.
 * I would have said it; you say well. Here comes the king.

[Enter KING, HELENA, and Attendants.]

LAFEU.
 * Lustic, 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.—

[Exit an Attendant.]


 * Sit, my preserver, by thy patient's side;
 * And with this healthful hand, whose banish'd sense
 * Thou has repeal'd, a second time receive
 * The confirmation of my promis'd gift,
 * Which but attends thy naming.

[Enter severaol 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'd 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 restor'd 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 refus'd,
 * 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.
 * [To third Lord.] 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 drank wine.—But
 * if thou beest 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 rais'd 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 dislik'st,
 * A poor physician's daughter,—thou dislik'st
 * 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 fore-goers: the mere word's a slave,
 * Debauch'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 restor'd, my lord, I am 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. Check 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 lov'st her,
 * Thy love's to me religious; else, does err.

[Exeunt KING, BERTAM, HELENA, Lords, and Attendants.]

LAFEU.
 * 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 burden. 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 art 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.
 * E'en as soon as thou canst, for thou hast to pull at a smack
 * o' th' contrary. If ever thou beest 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 have 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 thy 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'd beat
 * thee: methink'st 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
 * heraldry of your birth and virtue gives you commission. You are
 * not worth another word, else I'd call you knave. I leave you.

[Exit.]

PAROLLES.
 * Good, very good, it is so then.—Good, very good; let it
 * be concealed awhile.

[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 kicksy-wicksy 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 caprichio 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 4. The same. Another room in the same.
[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 art a knave.

CLOWN.
 * You should have said, sir, before a knave thou art a knave;
 * that is before me thou art 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 right 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 everything I wait upon his will.

PAROLLES.
 * I shall report it so.

HELENA.
 * I pray you.—Come, sirrah.

[Exeunt.]

SCENE 5. Another room in the same.
[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, is 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 leapt 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 his prayers.
 * Fare you well, my lord; and believe this of me, there can be no
 * kernal 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 procur'd 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 your 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.]