 | All's Well, that Ends Well |  |
Actus Secundus.
Enter the King with diuers yong Lords, taking leaue for the Florentine warre: Count, Rosse, and Parrolles. Florish Cornets.King.
Farewell yong Lords, these warlike principles
Doe not throw from you, and you my Lords farewell:
Share the aduice betwixt you, if both gaine, all
The guift doth stretch it selfe as 'tis receiu'd,
And is en oughfor both.
Lord. G.
'Tis our hope sir,
And finde your grace in health.
King.
No, no, it cannot be; and yet my heart
Will not confesse he owes the mallady
That doth my life besiege: farwell yong Lords,
Whether I liue or die, be you the sonnes
Of worthy French men: let higher Italy
(Those bated that inherit but the fall
Of the last Monarchy) see that you come
Not to wooe honour, but to wed it, when
The brauest questant shrinkes: finde what you seeke,
That fame may cry you loud: I say farewell.
L. G.
Health at your bidding serue your Maiesty.
King.
Those girles of Italy, take heed of them,
They say our French, lacke language to deny
If they demand: beware of being Captiues
Before you serue.
Bo.
Our hearts receiue your warnings.
King.
Farewell, come hether to me.
1. Lo. G.
Oh my sweet Lord yt you wil stay behind vs.
Parr.
'Tis not his fault the spark.
2. Lo. E.
Oh 'tis braue warres.
Parr.
Most admirable, I haue seene those warres.
Rossill.
I am commanded here, and kept a coyle with,
Too young, and the next yeere, and 'tis too early.
Parr.
And thy minde stand too't boy,
Steale away brauely.
Rossill.
I shal stay here the for-horse to a smocke,
Creeking my shooes on the plaine Masonry,
Till honour be bought vp, and no sword worne
But one to dance with: by heauen, Ile steale away.
1. Lo. G.
There's honour in the theft.
Parr.
Commit it Count.
2. Lo. E.
I am your accessary, and so farewell.
Ros.
I grow to you, & our parting is a tortur'd body.
1. Lo. G.
Farewll Captaine.
2. Lo. E.
Sweet Mounsier Parolles.
Parr.
Noble Heroes; my sword and yours are kinne,
good sparkes and lustrous, a word good mettals. You
shall finde in the Regiment of the Spinij, one Captaine
Spurio his sicatrice, with an Embleme of warre heere on
his sinister cheeke; it was this very sword entrench'd it:
say to him I liue, and obserue his reports for me.
Lo. G.
We shall noble Captaine.
Parr.
Mars doate on you for his nouices, what will
ye doe?
Ross.
Stay the King.
Parr.
Vse a more spacious ceremonie to the Noble
Lords, you haue restrain'd your selfe within the List of
too cold an adieu: be more expressiue to them; for they
weare themselues in the cap of the time, there do muster
true gate; eat, speake, and moue vnder the influence of
the most receiu'd starre, and though the deuill leade the
measure, such are to be followed: after them, and take a
more dilated farewell.
Ross.
And I will doe so.
Parr.
Worthy fellowes, and like to prooue most sinewie
sword-men.
Exeunt.
Enter Lafew.
L. Laf.
Pardon my Lord for mee and for my tidings.
King.
Ile see thee to stand vp.
L. Laf.
Then heres a man stands that has brought his pardon,
I would you had kneel'd my Lord to aske me mercy,
And that at my bidding yon could so stand vp.
King.
I would I had, so I had broke thy pate
And askt thee mercy for't.
Laf.
Goodfaith a-crosse, but my good Lord 'tis thus,
Will you be cur'd of your infirmitie?
King.
No.
Laf.
O will you eat no grapes my royall foxe?
Yes but you will, my noble grapes, and if
My royall foxe could reach them: I haue seen a medicine
That's able to breath life into a stone,
Quicken a rocke, and make you dance Canari
With sprightly fire and motion, whose simple touch
Is powerfull to arayse King Pippen, nay
To giue great Charlemaine a pen in's hand
And write to her a loue-line.
King.
What her is this?
Laf.
Why doctor she: my Lord, there's one arriu'd,
If you will see her: now by my faith and honour,
If seriously I may conuay my thoughts
In this my light deliuerance, I haue spoke
With one, that in her sexe, her yeeres, profession,
Wisedome and constancy, hath amaz'd mee more
Then I dare Blame my weakenesse: will you see her?
For that is her demand, and know her businesse?
That done, laugh well at me.
King.
Now good Lafew,
Bring in the admiration, that we with thee
May spend our wonder too, or take off thine
By wondring how thou tookst it.
Laf.
Nay, Ile fit you,
And not be all day neither.
King.
Thus he his speciall nothing euer prologues.
Laf.
Nay, come your waies.
Enter Hellen.
King.
This haste hath wings indeed.
Laf.
Nay, come your waies,
This is his Maiestie, say your minde to him,
A Traitor you doe looke like, but such traitors
His Maiesty seldome feares, I am Cresseds Vncle,
That dare leaue two together, far you well.
Exit.
King.
Now faire one, do's your busines follow vs?
Hel.
I my good Lord,
Gerard de Narbon was my father,
In what he did professe, well found.
King.
I knew him.
Hel.
The rather will I spare my praises towards him,
Knowing him is enough: on's bed of death,
Many receits he gaue me, chieflie one,
Which as the dearest issue of his practice
And of his olde experience, th'onlie darling,
He bad me store vp, as a triple eye,
Safer then mine owne two: more deare I haue so,
And hearing your high Maiestie is toucht
With that malignant cause, wherein the honour
Of my deare fathers gift, stands cheefe in power,
I come to tender it, and my appliance,
With all bound humblenesse.
King.
We thanke you maiden,
But may not be so credulous of cure,
When our most learned Doctors leaue vs, and
The congregated Colledge haue concluded,
That labouring Art can neuer ransome nature
From her inaydible estate: I say we must not
So staine our iudgement, or corrupt our hope,
To prostitute our past-cure malladie
To empericks, or to disseuer so
Our great selfe and our credit, to esteeme
A sencelesse helpe, when helpe past sence we deeme.
My dutie then shall pay me for my paines:
I will no more enforce mine office on you,
Humbly intreating from your royall thoughts,
A modest one to beare me backe againe.
King.
I cannot giue thee lesse to be cal'd gratefull:
Thou thoughtst to helpe me, and such thankes I giue,
As one neere death to those that wish him liue:
But what at full I know, thou knowst no part,
I knowing all my perill, thou no Art.
Hell.
What I can doe, can doe no hurt to try,
Since you set vp your rest 'gainst remedie:
He that of greatest workes is finisher,
Oft does them by the weakest minister:
So holy Writ, in babes hath iudgement showne,
When Iudges haue bin babes; great flouds haue flowne
From simple sources: and great Seas haue dried
When Miracles haue by the great'st beene denied.
Oft expectation failes, and most oft there
Where most it promises: and oft it hits,
Where hope is coldest, and despaire most shifts.
King.
I must not heare thee, fare thee wel kind maide,
Thy paines not vs'd, must by thy selfe be paid,
Proffers not tooke, reape thanks for their reward.
Hel.
Inspired Merit so by breath is bard,
It is not so with him that all things knowes
As 'tis with vs, that square our guesse by showes:
But most it is presumption in vs, when
The help of heauen we count the act of men.
Deare sir, to my endeauors giue consent,
Of heauen, not me, make an experiment.
I am not an Impostrue, that proclaime
My selfe against the leuill of mine aime,
But know I thinke, and thinke 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?
Hel.
The greatest grace lending grace,
Ere twice the horses of the sunne shall bring
Their fiery torcher his diurnall ring,
Ere twice in murke and occidentall dampe
Moist Hesperus hath quench'd her sleepy Lampe:
Or foure and twenty times the Pylots glasse
Hath told the theeuish minutes, how they passe:
What is infirme, from your sound parts shall flie,
Health shall liue free, and sickenesse freely dye.
King.
Vpon thy certainty and confidence,
What dar'st thou venter?
Hell.
Taxe of impudence,
A strumpets boldnesse, a divulged shame
Traduc'd by odious ballads: my maidens name
Seard otherwise, ne worse of worst extended
With vildest torture, let my life be ended.
Kin.
Methinks in thee some blessed spirit doth speak
His powerfull sound, within an organ weake:
And what impossibility would slay
In common sence, sence saues another way:
Thy life is deere, for all that life can rate
Worth name of life, in thee hath estimate:
Youth, beauty, wisedome, courage, all
That happines and prime, can happy call:
Thou this to hazard, needs must intimate
Skill infinite, or monstrous desperate,
Sweet practiser, thy Physicke I will try,
That ministers thine owne death if I die.
Hel.
If I breake time or flinch in property
Of what I spoke, vnpittied let me die,
And well deseru'd: not helping, death's my fee,
But if I helpe, what doe you promise me.
Kin.
Make thy demand.
Hel.
But will you make it euen?
Kin.
I by my Scepter, and my hopes of helpe.
Hel.
Then shalt thou giue me with thy kingly hand
What husband in thy power I will command:
Exempted be from me the arrogance
To choose from forth the royall bloud of France,
My low and humble name to propagate
With any branch or image of thy state:
But such a one thy vassall, whom I know
Is free for me to aske, thee to bestow.
Kin.
Heere is my hand, the premises obseru'd,
Thy will by my performance shall be seru'd:
So make the choice of thy owne time, for I
Thy resolv'd Patient, on thee still relye:
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
Vnquestion'd welcome, and vndoubted blest.
Giue me some helpe heere hoa, if thou proceed,
As high as word, my deed shall match thy deed.
Florish. Exit.
Enter Countesse and Clowne.
Lady.
Come on sir, I shall now put you to the height
of your breeding.
Clown.
I will shew my selfe highly fed, and lowly
taught, I know my businesse is but to the Court.
Lady.
To the Court, why what place make you speciall,
when you put off that with such contempt, but to
the Court?
Clo.
Truly Madam, if God haue lent a man any manners,
hee may easilie put it off at Court: hee that cannot
make a legge, put off's cap, kisse his hand, and say nothing,
has neither legge, hands, lippe, nor cap; and indeed
such a fellow, to say precisely, were not for the
Court. But for me, I haue an answere will serue all men.
Lady.
Marry that's a bountifull answere that fits all
questions.
Clo.
It is like a Barbers chaire that fits all buttockes,
the pin buttocke, the quatch-buttocke, the brawn buttocke,
or any buttocke.
Lady.
Will your answere serue fit to all questions?
Clo.
As fit as ten groats is for the hand of an Atturney,
as your French Crowne for your taffety punke, as
Tibs rush for Toms fore-finger, as a pancake for Shroue-tuesday,
a Morris for May-day, as the naile to his hole,
the Cuckold to his horne, as a scolding queane to a
wrangling knaue, as the Nuns lip to the Friers mouth,
nay as the pudding to his skin.
Lady.
Haue you, I say, an answere of such fitnesse for
all questions?
Clo.
From below your Duke, to beneath your Constable,
it will fit any question.
Lady.
It must be an answere of most monstrous size,
that must fit all demands.
Clo.
But a triflle neither in good faith, if the learned
should speake truth of it: heere it is, and all that belongs
to't. Aske mee if I am a Courtier, it shall doe you no
harme to learne.
Lady.
To be young againe if we could: I will bee a
foole in question, hoping to bee the wiser by your answer.
I pray you sir, are you a Courtier?
Clo.
O Lord sir theres a simple putting off: more,
more, a hundred of them.
La.
Sir I am a poore freind of yours, that loues you.
Clo.
O Lord sir, thicke, thicke, spare not me.
La.
I thinke sir, you can eate none of this homely
meate.
Clo.
O Lord sir; nay put me too't, I warrant you.
La.
You were lately whipt sir as I thinke.
Clo.
O Lord sir, spare not me.
La.
Doe you crie O Lord sir at your whipping, and
spare not me? Indeed your O Lord sir, is very sequent
to your whipping: you would answere very well to a
whipping if you were but bound too't.
Clo.
I nere had worse lucke in my life in my O Lord
sir: I see things may serue long, but not serue euer.
La.
I play the noble huswife with the time, to entertaine
it so merrily with a foole.
Clo.
O Lord sir, why there't serues well agen.
La.
And end sir to your businesse: giue Hellen this,
And vrge her to a present answer backe,
Commend me to my kinsmen, and my sonne,
This is not much.
Clo.
Not much commendation to them.
La.
Not much imployement for you, you vnderstand
me.
Clo.
Most fruitfully, I am there, before my legegs.
La.
Hast you agen.
Exeunt
Enter Count, Lafew, and Parolles.
Ol. Laf.
They say miracles are past, and we haue our
Philosophicall persons, to make moderne and familiar
things supernaturall and causelesse. Hence is it, that we
make trifles of terrours, ensconcing our selues into seeming
knowledge, when we should submit our selues to
an vnknowne feare.
Par.
Why 'tis the rarest argument of wonder, that
hath shot out in our latter times.
Ros.
And so 'tis.
Ol. Laf.
To be relinquisht of the Artists.
Par.
So I say both of Galen and Paracelsus.
Ol. Laf.
Of all the learned and authenticke fellowes.
Par.
Right so I say.
Ol. Laf.
That gaue him out incureable.
Par.
Why there 'tis, so say I too.
Ol. Laf.
Not to be help'd.
Par.
Right, as 'twere a man assur'd of a—
Ol. Laf.
Vncertaine life, and sure death.
Par.
Iust, you say well: so would I haue said.
Ol. Laf.
I may truly say, it is a noueltie to the world.
Par.
It is indeede if you will haue it in shewing, you
shall reade it in what do ye call there.
Ol. Laf.
A shewing of a heauenly effect in an earthly
Actor.
Par.
That's it, I would haue said, the verie same.
Ol. Laf.
Why your Dolphin is not lustier: fore mee
I speake in respect—
Par.
Nay 'tis strange, 'tis very straunge, that is the
breefe and the tedious of it, and he's of a most facinerious
spirit, that will not acknowledge it to be the—
Ol. Laf.
Very hand of heauen.
Par.
I, so I say.
Ol. Laf.
In a most weake—
Par.
And debile minister great power, grear trancendence,
which should indeede giue vs a further vse to
be made, then alone the recou'ry of the king, as to bee
Old Laf.
Generally thankfull.
Enter King, Hellen, and attendants.
Par.
I would haue said it, you say well: heere comes
the King.
Ol. Laf.
Lustique, as the Dutchman saies: Ile like a
maide the Better whil'st I haue a tooth in my head: why
he's able to leade her a Carranto.
Par.
Mor du vinager, is not this Helen?
Ol. Laf.
Fore God I thinke so.
King.
Goe call before mee all the Lords in Court,
Sit my preseruer by thy patients side,
And with this healthfull hand whose banisht sence
Thou hast repeal'd, a second time receyue
The confirmation of my promis'd guift,
Which but attends thy naming.
Enter 3 or 4 Lords.
Faire Maide send forth thine eye, this youthfull parcell
Of Noble Batchellors, stand at my bestowing,
Ore whom both Soueraigne power, and fathers voice
I haue to vse; thy franke election make,
Thou hast power to choose, and they none to forsake.
Hel.
To each of you, one faire and vertuous Mistris;
Fall when loue please, marry to each but one.
Old Laf.
I'de giue bay curtall, and his furniture
My mouth no more were broken then these boyes,
And writ as little beard.
King.
Peruse them well:
Not one of those, but had a Noble father.
She addresses her to a Lord.
Hel.
Gentlemen, heauen hath through me, restor'd
the king to health.
All.
We vnderstand it, and thanke heauen for you.
Hel.
I am a simple Maide, and therein wealthiest
That I protest, I simply am a Maide:
Please it your Maiestie, I haue done already:
The blushes in my cheekes thus whisper mee,
We blush that thou shouldst choose, but be refused;
Let the white death sit on thy cheeke for euer,
Wee'l nere come there againe.
King.
Make choise and see,
Who shuns thy loue, shuns all his loue in mee.
Hel.
Now Dian from thy Altar do I fly,
And to imperiall loue, that God most high
Do my sighes streame: Sir, wil you heare my suite?
1. Lo.
And grant it.
Hel.
Thankes sir, all the rest is mute.
Ol Laf.
I had rather be in this choise, then throw
Ames-ace for my life.
Hel
The honor sir that flames in your faire eyes,
Before I speake too threatningly replies:
Loue make your fortunes twentie times aboue
Her that so vvishes, and her humble loue.
2 Lo.
No better if you please.
Hel.
My wish receiue,
Which great loue grant, and so I take my leaue.
Ol. Laf.
Do all they denie her? And they were sons
of mine, I'de haue them whip'd, or I would send them
to'th Turke to make Eunuches of.
Hel.
Be not afraid that I your hand should take,
Ile neuer do you wrong for your owne sake:
Blessing vpon your vowes, and in your bed
Finde fairer fortune, if you euer wed.
Old Laf.
These boyes are boyes of Ice, they'le none
French nere got em.
La.
You are too young, too happie, and too good
To make your selfe a sonne out of my blood.
4. Lord
Faire one, I thinke not so.
Ol. Lord.
There's one grape yet, I am sure thy father
drunke wine. But if thou be'st not an asse, I am a youth
of fourteene: I haue knowne thee already.
Hel.
I dare not say I take you, but I giue
Me and my seruice, euer whilst I liue
Into your guiding power: This is the man.
King.
Why then young Bertram take her shee's thy
wife.
Ber.
My wife my Leige? I shal beseech your highnes
In such a busines, giue me leaue to vse
The helpe of mine owne eies.
King.
Know'st thou not Bertram what shee ha's
done for mee?
Ber.
Yes my good Lord, but neuer hope to know
why I should marrie her.
King.
Thou know'st shee ha's rais'd me from my sickly
bed.
Ber.
But followes it my Lord, to bring me downe
Must answer for your raising? I knowe her well:
Shee had her breeding at my fathers charge:
A poore Physitians daughter my wife? Disdaine
Rather corrupt me euer.
King.
Tis onely title thou disdainst in her, the which
I can build vp: strange is it that our bloods
Of colour, waight, and heat, pour'd all together,
Would quite confound distinction: yet stands off
In differences so mightie. If she bee
All that is vertuous (saue what thou dislik'st)
A poore Phisitians daughter, thou dislik'st
Of vertue for the name: but doe not so:
From lowest place, whence vertuous things proceed,
The place is dignified by th' doers decile.
Where great additions swell's, and vertue none,
It is a dropsied honour. Good a lone,
Is good without a name? Vilenesse is so:
The propertie by what is is, should go,
Not by the title. Shee is young, wise, faire,
In these, to Nature shee's immediate heire:
And these breed honour: that is honours scorne,
Which challenges it selfe as honours borne,
And is not like the fire: Honours thriue,
When rather from our acts we them deriue
Then our fore-goers: the meere words, a slaue
Debosh'd on euerie tombe, on euerie graue:
A lying Trophee, and as oft is dumbe,
Where dust, and damn'd obliuion is the Tombe.
Of honour'd bones indeed, what should be saide?
If thou canst like this creature, as a maide,
I can create the rest: Vertue, and shee
Is her owne dower: Honour and wealth, from mee.
Ber.
I cannot loue her, nor will striue to doo't.
King.
Thou wrong'st thy selfe, if thou shold'st striue
to choose.
Hel.
That you are well restor'd my Lord, I'me glad:
Let the rest go.
King.
My Honor's at the stake, which to defeate
I must produce my power. Heere, take her hand,
Proud scornfull boy, vnworthie this good gift,
That dost in vile misprision shackle vp
My loue, and her desert: that canst not dreame,
We poizing vs in her defectiue scale,
Shall weigh thee to the beame: That wilt not know,
It is in Vs to plant thine Honour, where
We please to haue it grow. Checke thy contempt:
Obey Our will, which trauailes in thy good:
Beleeue not thy disdaine, but presentlie
Do thine owne fortunes that obedient right
Which both thy dutie owes, and Our power claimes,
Or I will throw thee from my care for euer
Into the staggers, and the carelesse lapse
Of youth and ignorance: both my reuenge and hate
Loosing vpon thee, in the name of iustice,
Without all termes of pittie. Speake, thine answer.
Ber.
Pardon my gracious Lord: for I submit
My fancie to your eies, when I consider
What great creation, and what dole of honour
Flies where you bid it: I finde that she which late
Was in my Nobler thoughts, most base: is now
The praised of the King, who so ennobled,
Is as 'twere borne so.
King.
Take her by the hand,
And tell her she is thine: to whom I promise
A counterpoize: If not to thy estate,
A ballance more repleat.
Ber.
I take her hand.
Kin.
Good fortune, and the fauour of the King
Smile vpon this Contract: whose Ceremonie
Shall seeme expedient on the now borne briefe,
And be perform'd to night: the solemne Feast
Shall more attend vpon the coming space,
Expecting absent friends. As thou lou'st her,
Thy loue's to me Religious: else, do's erre.
Exeunt
Parolles and Lafew stay behind, commenting of this wedding.
Laf.
Do you heare Monsieur? A word with you.
Par.
Your pleasure sir.
Laf.
Your Lord and Master did well to make his recantation.
Par.
Recantation? My Lord? my Master?
Laf.
I: Is it not a Language I speake?
Par.
A most harsh one, and not to bee vnderstoode
without bloudie succeeding My Master?
Laf.
Are you Companion to the Count Rosillion?
Par.
To any Count, to all Counts: to what is man.
Laf.
To what is Counts man: Counts maister is of
another stile.
Par.
You are too old sir: Let it satisfie you, you are
too old.
Laf.
I must tell thee sirrah, I write Man: to which
title age cannot bring thee.
Par.
What I dare too well do, I dare not do.
Laf.
I did thinke thee for two ordinaries: to bee a
prettie wise fellow, thou didst make tollerable vent of
thy trauell, it might passe: yet the scarffes and the bannerets
about thee, did manifoldlie disswade me from beleeuing
thee a vessell of too great a burthen. I haue now
found thee, when I loose thee againe, I care not: yet art
thou good for nothing but taking vp, and that th' ourt
scarce worth.
Par.
Hadst thou not the priuiledge of Antiquity vpon
thee.
Laf.
Do not plundge thy selfe to farre in anger, least
thou hasten thy triall: which if, Lord haue mercie on
thee for a hen, so my good window of Lettice fare thee
well, thy casement I neede not open, for I look through
thee, Giue me thy hand.
Par.
My Lord, you giue me most egregious indignity.
I with all my heart, and thou art worthy of it.
Par.
I haue not my Lord deseru'd it.
Laf.
Yes good faith, eu'ry dramme of it, and I will
not bate thee a scruple.
Par.
Well, I shall be wiser.
Laf.
Eu'n as soone as thou can'st, for thou hast to pull
at a smacke a'th contrarie. If euer thou bee'st bound
in thy skarfe and beaten, thou shall finde what it is to be
proud of thy bondage, I haue a desire to holde my acquaintance
with thee, or rather my knowledge, that I
may say in the default, he is a man I know.
Par.
My Lord you do me most insupportable vexation.
Laf.
I would it were hell paines for thy sake, and my
poore doing eternall: for doing I am past, as I will by
thee, in what motion age will giue me leaue.
Exit.
Par.
Well, thou hast a soone shall take this disgrace
off me; scuruy, old, filthy, scuruy Lord: Well, I must
be patient, there is no fettering of authority. Ile beate
him (by my life) if I can meete him with any conuenience,
and he were double and double a Lord. Ile haue
no more pittie of his age then I would haue of—Ile
beate him, and if I could but meet him agen.
Enter Lafew.
Laf.
Sirra, your Lord and masters married, there's
newes for you: you haue a new Mistris.
Par.
I most vnfainedly beseech your Lordshippe to
make some reseruation of your wrongs. He is my good
Lord, whom I serue aboue is my master.
Laf.
Who? God.
Par.
I sir.
Laf.
The deuill it is, that's thy master. Why dooest
thou garter vp thy armes a this fashion? Dost make hose
of thy sleeues? Do other seruants so? Thou wert best set
thy lower part where thy nose stands. By mine Honor,
if I were but two houres yonger, I'de beate thee: mee-think'st
thou art a generall offence, and euery man shold
beate thee: I thinke thou wast created for men to breath
themselues vpon thee.
Par.
This is hard and vndeserued measure my Lord.
Laf.
Go too sir, you were beaten in Italy for picking
a kernell out of a Pomgranat, you are a vagabond, and
no true traueller: you are more sawcie with Lordes and
honourable personages, then the Commission of your
birth and vertue giues you Heraldry. You are not worth
another word, else I'de call you knaue. I leaue you.
Exit
Enter Count Rossillion.
Par.
Good, very good, it is so then: good, very
good, let it be conceal'd awhile.
Ros.
Vndone, and forfeited to cares for euer.
Par.
What's the matter sweet-heart?
Rossill.
Although before the solemne Priest I haue
sworne, I will not bed her.
Par.
What? what sweet heart?
Ros.
O my Parolles, they haue married me:
Ile to the Tuscan warres, and neuer bed her.
Par.
France is a dog-hole, and it no more merits,
The tread of a mans foot: too'th warres.
Ros.
There's letters from my mother: What th'import
is, I know not yet.
Par.
I that would be knowne: too'th warrs my boy,
too'th warres:
That hugges his kickie wickie heare at home,
Spending his manlie marrow in her armes
Which should sustaine the bound and high curuet
Of Marses fierie steed: to other Regions,
France is a stable, wee that dwell in't Iades,
Therefore too'th warre.
Ros.
It shall be so, Ile 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 speake. His present gift
Shall furnish me to those Italian fields
Where noble fellowes strike: Warres is no strife
To the darke house, and the detected wife.
Par.
Will this Caprichio hold in thee, art sure?
Ros.
Go with me to my chamber, and aduice me.
Ile send her straight away: To morrow,
Ile to the warres, she to her single sorrow.
Par.
Why these bals bound, ther's noise in it. Tis hard
A yong man maried, is a man that's mard:
Therefore away, and leaue her brauely: go,
The King ha's done you wrong: but hush 'tis so.
Exit
Enter Helena and Clowne.
Hel.
My mother greets me kindly, is she well?
Clo.
She is not well, but yet she has her health, she's
very merrie, but yet she is not well: but thankes be giuen
she's very well, and wants nothing i'th world: but
yet she is not well.
Hel.
If she be verie wel, what do's she ayle, that she's
not verie well?
Clo.
Truly she's very well indeed, but for two things
Hel.
What two things?
Clo.
One, that she's not in heauen, whether God send
her quickly: the other, that she's in earth, from whence
God send her quickly.
Enter Parolles.
Par.
Blesse you my fortunate Ladie.
Hel.
I hope sir I haue your good will to haue mine
owne good fortune.
Par.
You had my prayers to leade them on, and to
keepe them on, haue them still. O my knaue, how do's
my old Ladie?
Clo.
So that you had her wrinkles, and I her money,
I would she did as you say.
Par.
Why I say nothing.
Clo.
Marry you are the wiser man: for many a mans
tongue shakes out his masters vndoing: to say nothing,
to do nothing, to know nothing, and to haue nothing,
is to be a great part of your title, which is within a verie
little of nothing.
Par.
Away, th'art a knaue.
Clo.
You should haue said sir before a knaue, th'art a
knaue, that's before me th'art a knaue: this had beene
truth sir.
Par.
Go too, thou art a wittie foole, I haue found
thee.
Clo.
Did you finde me in your selfe sir, or were you
taught to finde me?
Clo.
The search sir was profitable, and much Foole
may you find in you, euen to the worlds pleasure, and the
encrease of laughter.
Par.
A good knaue ifaith, and well fed.
Madam, my Lord will go awaie to night,
The great prerogatiue and rite of loue,
Which as your due time claimes, he do's acknowledge,
But puts it off to a compell'd restraint:
Whose want, and whose delay, is strew'd with sweets
Which they distill now in the curbed time,
To make the comming houre oreflow with ioy,
And pleasure drowne the brim.
Hel.
What's his will else?
Par.
That you will take your instant leaue a'th king,
And make this hast as your owne good proceeding,
Strengthned with what Apologie you thinke
May make it probable neede.
Hel.
What more commands hee?
Par.
That hauing this obtain'd, you presentlie
Attend his further pleasure.
Hel.
In euery thing I waite vpon his will.
Par.
I shall report it so.
Exit Par.
Hell.
I pray you come sirrah.
Exit
Enter Lafew and Bertram.
Laf.
But I hope your Lordshippe thinkes not him a
souldier.
Ber.
Yes my Lord and of verie valiant approofe.
Laf.
You haue it from his owne deliuerance.
Ber.
And by other warranted testimonie.
Laf.
Then my Diall goes not true, I tooke this Larke
for a bunting.
Ber.
I do assure you my Lord he is very great in knowledge,
and accordinglie valiant.
Laf.
I haue then sinn'd against his experience, and
transgrest against his valour, and my state that way is
dangerous, since I cannot yet find in my heart to repent:
Heere he comes, I pray you make vs freinds, I will pursue
the amitie.
Enter Parolles.
Par.
These things shall be done sir.
Laf.
Pray you sir whose his Tailor?
Par.
Sir?
Laf.
O I know him well, I sir, hee sirs a good workeman,
a verie good Tailor.
Ber.
Is shee gone to the king?
Par.
Shee is.
Ber.
Will shee away to night?
Par.
As you'le haue her.
Ber.
I haue writ my letters, casketted my treasure,
Giuen order for our horses, and to night,
When I should take possession of the Bride,
And ere I doe begin.
Laf.
A good Trauailer is something at the latter end
of a dinner, but on that lies three thirds, and vses a
known truth to passe a thousand nothings with, should
bee once hard, and thrice beaten. God saue you Captaine.
Ber.
Is there any vnkindnes betweene my Lord and
you Monsieur?
Par.
I know not how I haue deserued to run into my
Lords displeasure.
Laf.
You haue made shift to run into't, bootes and
spurres and all: like him that leapt into the Custard, and
out of it you'le runne againe, rather then suffer question
for your residence.
Ber.
It may bee you haue mistaken him my Lord.
Laf.
And shall doe so euer, though I tooke him at's
prayers. Fare you well my Lord, and beleeue this of
me, there can be no kernell in this light Nut: the soule
of this man is his cloathes: Trust him not in matter of
heauie consequence: I haue kept of them tame, & know
their natures. Farewell Monsieur, I haue spoken better
of you, then you haue or will to deserue at my hand, but
we must do good against euill.
Par.
An idle Lord, I sweare.
Ber.
I thinke so.
Par.
Why do you not know him?
Ber.
Yes, I do know him well, and common speech
Giues him a worthy passe. Heere comes my clog.
Enter Helena.
Hel.
I haue sir as I was commanded from you
Spoke with the King, and haue procur'd his leaue
For present parting, onely he desires
Some priuate speech with you.
Ber.
I shall obey his will.
You must not meruaile Helen at my course,
Which holds not colour with the time, nor does
The ministration, and required office
On my particular. Prepar'd I was not
For such a businesse, therefore am I found
So much vnsetled: This driues me to intreate you,
That presently you take your way for home,
And rather muse then aske why I intreate you,
For my respects are better then they seeme,
And my appointments haue in them a neede
Greater then shewes it selfe at the first view,
To you that know them not. This to my mother,
'Twill be two daies ere I shall see you, so
I leaue you to your wisedome.
Hel.
Sir, I can nothing say,
But that I am your most obedient seruant.
Ber.
Come, come, no more of that.
Hel.
And euer shall
With true obseruance seeke to eeke out that
Wherein toward me my homely starres haue faild
To equall my great fortune.
Ber.
Let that goe: my hast is verie great. Farwell:
Hie home.
Hel.
Pray sir your pardon.
Ber.
Well, what would you say?
Hel.
I am not worthie of the wealth I owe,
Nor dare I say 'tis mine: and yet it is,
But like a timorous theefe, most faine would steale
What law does vouch mine owne.
Ber.
What would you haue?
Hel.
Something, and scarse so much: nothing indeed,
I would not tell you what I would my Lord: Faith yes,
Strangers and foes do sunder, and not kisse.
Ber.
I pray you stay not, but in hast to horse.
Hel.
I shall not breake your bidding, good my Lord:
Where are my other men? Monsieur, farwell.
Exit
Ber.
Go thou toward home, where I wil neuer come,
Whilst I can shake my sword, or heare the drumme:
Away, and for our flight.
Par.
Brauely, Coragio.
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