All's Well That Ends Well/Act 3

SCENE 1. Florence. A room in the DUKE's palace.
[Flourish. Enter the DUKE OF FLORENCE, attended; two French Lords, and 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 th' field.

[Flourish. Exeunt.]

SCENE 2. Rousillon. A room in the COUNTESS'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 misprizing 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 the two Gentlemen.]

SECOND GENTLEMAN.
 * Save you, good madam.

HELENA.
 * Madam, my lord is gone, for ever gone.

FIRST 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?

FIRST GENTLEMAN.
 * Madam, he's gone to serve the Duke of Florence:
 * We met him thitherward; for thence we came,
 * And, after some despatch in hand at court,
 * Thither we bend again.

HELENA.
 * Look on this 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 pains.

COUNTESS.
 * I pr'ythee, 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?

FIRST GENTLEMAN.
 * Ay, madam.

COUNTESS.
 * And to be a soldier?

FIRST 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?

SECOND 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.

SECOND 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?

SECOND GENTLEMAN.
 * A servant only, and a gentleman
 * Which I have sometime known.

COUNTESS.
 * Parolles, was it not?

SECOND 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.

SECOND GENTLEMAN.
 * Indeed, good lady,
 * The fellow has a deal of that too much
 * Which holds him much to have.

COUNTESS.
 * You are 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.

FIRST 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 it;
 * 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 offic'd 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 3. Florence. Before the DUKE's palace.
[Flourish. Enter the DUKE OF FLORENCE, BERTRAM, PAROLLES, Lords, Soldiers, and others.]

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 4. Rousillon. A room in the COUNTESS'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 fervour 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 dog 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'er ta'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 5. Without the walls of Florence.
[Enter an old Widow of Florence, DIANA, VIOLENTA, MARIANA, and 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.

[A tucket afar off.]


 * 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.—Look, here comes a pilgrim. I know she will lie
 * at my house: thither they send one another; I'll question her.—

[Enter HELENA in the dress of a pilgrim.]


 * God save you, pilgrim! Whither are 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. Hark you! They come this way.

[A march afar off.]
 * If you will tarry, holy pilgrim,
 * But till the troops come by,
 * I will conduct you where you shall be lodg'd;
 * 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.
 * Whatsoe'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 examin'd.

DIANA.
 * Alas, poor lady!
 * 'Tis a hard bondage to become the wife
 * Of a detesting lord.

WIDOW.
 * Ay, right; good creature, wheresoe'er she is
 * Her heart weighs sadly: this young maid might do her
 * A shrewd turn, if she pleas'd.

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:—

[Enter, with a drum and colours, a party of the Florentine army, BERTRAM, and PAROLLES.]


 * 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 lov'd 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 vex'd at something.
 * Look, he has spied us.

WIDOW.
 * Marry, hang you!

MARIANA.
 * And your courtesy, for a ring-carrier!

[Exeunt BERTRAM, PAROLLES, Officers, and Soldiers.]

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 6. Camp before Florence.
[Enter BERTRAM, and the two French Lords.]

FIRST LORD.
 * Nay, good my lord, put him to't; let him have his way.

SECOND LORD.
 * If your lordship find him not a hilding, hold me no more in your
 * respect.

FIRST LORD.
 * On my life, my lord, a bubble.

BERTRAM.
 * Do you think I am so far deceived in him?

FIRST 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.

SECOND 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.

SECOND LORD.
 * None better than to let him fetch off his drum, which you hear
 * him so confidently undertake to do.

FIRST 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 anything.

SECOND 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.

FIRST LORD.
 * O, for the love of laughter, hinder not the honour of his design:
 * let him fetch off his drum in any hand.

[Enter PAROLLES.]

BERTRAM.
 * How now, monsieur! this drum sticks sorely in your disposition.

SECOND 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.

SECOND 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 art valiant; and, to the possibility of thy
 * soldiership, will subscribe for thee. Farewell.

PAROLLES.
 * I love not many words.

[Exit.]

FIRST 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.

SECOND 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?

FIRST 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.

SECOND LORD.
 * We'll make you some sport with the fox ere we case him. He was
 * first smok'd 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.

FIRST LORD.
 * I must go look my twigs; he shall be caught.

BERTRAM.
 * Your brother, he shall go along with me.

FIRST 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.

SECOND 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?

SECOND LORD.
 * With all my heart, my lord.

[Exeunt.]

SCENE 7. Florence. A room in 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 woos your daughter
 * Lays down his wanton siege before her beauty,
 * Resolv'd to carry her: let her in fine, consent,
 * As we'll direct her how 'tis best to bear it,
 * Now his important blood will naught 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 pass'd 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 compos'd
 * 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.]