Shakespeare - First Folio facsimile (1910)/All's Well That Ends Well/Act 2
Actus Secundus.
Enter the King with diuers yong Lords, taking leauefor the Florentine warre: Count, Rosse, andParrolles. Florish Cornets.
King. Farewell yong Lords, these warlike principlesDoe not throw from you, and you my Lords farewell:Share the aduice betwixt you, if both gaine, allThe guift doth stretch it selfe as 'tis receiu'd,And is enough for both.
Lord.G. 'Tis our hope sir, After well entred souldiers, to returneAnd finde your grace in health.
King. No, no, it cannot be; and yet my heartWill not confesse he owes the malladyThat doth my life besiege: farwell yong Lords,Whether I liue or die, be you the sonnesOf worthy French men: let higher Italy(Those bated that inherit but the fallOf the last Monarchy) see that you comeNot to wooe honour, but to wed it, whenThe 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 denyIf they demand: beware of being CaptiuesBefore you serue.
Bo. Our hearts receiue your warnings.
King. Farewell, come hether to me.
1.Lo.G. Oh my sweet Lord that 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 worneBut 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. Farewell Captaine.
2.Lo.E. Sweet Mounsier Parolles.
Parr. Noble Heroes; my sword and yours are kinne,good sparkes and lustrous, a word good mettals. Youshall finde in the Regiment of the Spinij, one CaptaineSpurio his sicatrice, with an Embleme of warre heere onhis 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 willye doe?
Ross. Stay the King.
Parr. Vse a more spacious ceremonie to the NobleLords, you haue restrain'd your selfe within the List oftoo cold an adieu: be more expressiue to them; for theyweare themselues in the cap of the time, there do mustertrue gate; eat, speake, and moue vnder the influence ofthe most receiu'd starre, and though the deuill leade themeasure, such are to be followed: after them, and take amore dilated farewell.
Ross. And I will doe so.
Parr. Worthy fellowes, and like to prooue most Exeunt.sinewie sword-men.
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 you could so stand vp.
King. I would I had, so I had broke thy pateAnd 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 ifMy royall foxe could reach them: I haue seen a medicineThat's able to breath life into a stone,Quicken a rocke, and make you dance CanariWith sprightly fire and motion, whose simple touchIs powerfull to arayse King Pippen, nayTo giue great Charlemaine a pen in's handAnd 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 thoughtsIn this my light deliuerance, I haue spokeWith one, that in her sexe, her yeeres, profession,Wisedome and constancy, hath amaz'd mee moreThen 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 theeMay spend our wonder too, or take off thineBy 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 traitorsHis Maiesty seldome feares, I am Cresseds Vncle,Exit.That dare leaue two together, far you well.
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 practiceAnd 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 touchtWith that malignant cause, wherein the honourOf 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, andThe congregated Colledge haue concluded,That labouring Art can neuer ransome natureFrom her inaydible estate: I say we must notSo staine our iudgement, or corrupt our hope,To prostitute our past-cure malladieTo empericks, or to disseuer soOur great selfe and our credit, to esteemeA sencelesse helpe, when helpe past sence we deeme.
Hell. 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 flowneFrom simple sources: and great Seas haue driedWhen Miracles haue by the great'st beene denied.Oft expectation failes, and most oft thereWhere 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 knowesAs 'tis with vs, that square our guesse by showes:But most it is presumption in vs, whenThe 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 Imposture, that proclaimeMy 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 spaceHop'st thou my cure?
Hel. The greatest grace lending grace,Ere twice the horses of the sunne shall bringTheir fiery torcher his diurnall ring,Ere twice in murke and occidentall dampeMoist Hesperus hath quench'd her sleepy Lampe:Or foure and twenty times the Pylots glasseHath 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 shameTraduc'd by odious ballads: my maidens nameSeard otherwise, ne worse of worst extendedWith vildest torture, let my life be ended.
Kin. Methinks in thee some blessed spirit doth speakHis powerfull sound, within an organ weake:And what impossibility would slayIn common sence, sence saues another way:Thy life is deere, for all that life can rateWorth name of life, in thee hath estimate:Youth, beauty, wisedome, courage, allThat happines and prime, can happy call:Thou this to hazard, needs must intimateSkill 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 propertyOf 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 handWhat husband in thy power I will command:Exempted be from me the arroganceTo choose from forth the royall bloud of France,My low and humble name to propagateWith any branch or image of thy state:But such a one thy vassall, whom I knowIs 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 IThy 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 restVnquestion'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 heightof your breeding.
Clown. I will shew my selfe highly fed, and lowlytaught, 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 tothe Court?
Clo. Truly Madam, if God haue lent a man any manners, hee may easilie put it off at Court: hee that cannotmake 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 theCourt, 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, asTibs 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 awrangling 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 forall 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 learnedshould speake truth of it: heere it is, and all that belongsto't. Aske mee if I am a Courtier, it shall doe you noharme to learne.
Lady. To be young againe if we could: I will bee afoole in question, hoping to bee the wiser by your answer.
La. 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, andspare not me? Indeed your O Lord sir, is very sequentto your whipping: you would answere very well to awhipping if you were but bound too't.
Clo. I nere had worse lucke in my life in my O Lordsir: 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 legges.
La. Exeunt.Hast you agen.
Enter Count, Lafew, and Parolles.
Ol.Laf. They say miracles are past, and we haue ourPhilosophicall persons, to make moderne and familiarthings supernaturall and causelesse. Hence is it, that wemake trifles of terrours, ensconcing our selues into seeming knowledge, when we should submit our selues toan vnknowne feare.
Par. Why 'tis the rarest argument of wonder, thathath shot out in our latter times.
Ros. And so 'tis.
Ol.Laf. To be relinquisht of the Artists.
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, youshall 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 meeI speake in respect———
Par. Nay 'tis strange, 'tis very straunge, that is thebreefe 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, great trancendence, which should indeede giue vs a further vse tobe 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 amaide the Better whil'st I haue a tooth in my head: whyhe'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 senceThou hast repeal'd, a second time receyueThe confirmation of my promis'd guift,Which but attends thy naming.Enter 3 or 4 Lords.Faire Maide send forth thine eye, this youthfull parcellOf Noble Batchellors, stand at my bestowing,Ore whom both Soueraigne power, and fathers voiceI 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 furnitureMy 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'dthe king to health.
All.We vnderstand it, and thanke heauen for you.
Hel. I am a simple Maide, and therein wealthiestThat 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 highDo my sighes streame: Sir, wil you heare my suite?
1.Lo. And grant it.
Hel. Thanke, sir, all the rest is mute.
Ol Laf. I had rather be in this choise, then throwAmes-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 aboueHer that so wishes, 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 sonsof mine, I'de haue them whip'd, or I would send themto'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 bedFinde fairer fortune, if you euer wed.
Old Laf. These boyes are boyes of Ice, they'le none haue heere: sure they are bastards to the English, the French nere got em.
La. You are too young, too happie, and too goodTo 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 fatherdrunke wine. But if thou be'st not an asse, I am a youthof fourteene: I haue knowne thee already.
Hel. I dare not say I take you, but I giueMe and my seruice, euer whilst I liueInto 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 highnesIn such a busines, giue me leaue to vseThe helpe of mine owne eies.
King. Know'st thou not Bertram what shee ha'sdone for mee?
Ber. Yes my good Lord, but neuer hope to knowwhy 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 downeMust answer for your raising? I knowe her well:Shee had her breeding at my fathers charge:A poore Physitians daughter my wife? DisdaineRather corrupt me euer.
King. Tis onely title thou disdainst in her, the whichI can build vp: strange is it that our bloodsOf colour, waight, and heat, pour'd all together,Would quite confound distinction: yet stands offIn differences so mightie. If she beeAll that is vertuous (saue what thou dislik'st)A poore Phisitians daughter, thou dislik'stOf vertue for the name: but doe not so:From lowest place, whence vertuous things proceed,The place is dignified by th' doers deede.Where great additions swell's, and vertue none,It is a dropsied honour. Good alone,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 sire: Honours thriue,When rather from our acts we them deriueThen our fore-goers: the meere words, a slaueDebosh'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 sheeIs 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 striueto 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 defeateI must produce my power. Heere, take her hand,Proud scornfull boy, vnworthie this good gift,That dost in vile misprision shackle vpMy 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, whereWe please to haue it grow. Checke thy contempt:Obey Our will, which trauailes in thy good:Beleeue not thy disdaine, but presentheDo thine owne fortunes that obedient rightWhich both thy dutie owes, and Our power claimes,Or I will throw thee from my care for euerInto the staggers, and the carelesse lapseOf youth and ignorance: both my reuenge and hateLoosing vpon thee, in the name of iustice,Without all termes of pittie. Speake, thine answer.
Ber. Pardon my gracious Lord: for I submitMy fancie to your eies, when I considerWhat great creation, and what dole of honourFlies where you bid it: I finde that she which lateWas in my Nobler thoughts, most base: is nowThe 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 promiseA counterpoize: If not to thy estate,A ballance more repleat.
Ber. I take her hand.
Kin. Good fortune, and the fauour of the KingSmile vpon this Contract: whose CeremonieShall seeme expedient on the now borne briefe,And be perform'd to night: the solemne FeastShall more attend vpon the coming space,Expecting absent friends. As thou lou'st her,Exeunt.Thy loue's to me Religious: else, do's erre.
Parolles and Lafew stay behind, commentingof 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 vnderstoodewithout 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 ofanother stile.
Par. You are too old sir: Let it satisfie you, you aretoo old.
Laf. I must tell thee sirrah, I write Man: to whichtitle 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 aprettie wise fellow, thou didst make tollerable vent ofthy 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 nowfound thee, when I loose thee againe, I care not: yet artthou good for nothing but taking vp, and that th' ourtscarce worth.
Par. Hadst thou not the priuiledge of Antiquity vpon thee.
Laf. Do not plundge thy selfe to farre in anger, leastthou hasten thy triall: which if, Lord haue mercie onthee for a hen, so my good window of Lettice fare theewell, thy casement I neede not open, for I look throughthee. Giue me thy hand.
Par. My Lord, you giue me most egregious indignity.
Laf. 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 willnot bate thee a scruple.
Par. Well, I shall be wiser.
Laf. Eu'n as soone as thou can'st, for thou hast to pullat a smacke a'th contrarie. If euer thou bee'st boundin thy skarfe and beaten, thou shall finde what it is to beproud of thy bondage, I haue a desire to holde my acquaintance with thee, or rather my knowledge, that Imay 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 mypoore doing eternall: for doing I am past, as I will byExit.thee, in what motion age will giue me leaue.
Par. Well, thou hast a sonne shall take this disgraceoff me; scuruy, old, filthy, scuruy Lord: Well, I mustbe patient, there is no fettering of authority. Ile beatehim (by my life) if I can meete him with any conuenience, and he were double and double a Lord. Ile haueno more pittie of his age then I would haue of ——— Ilebeate him, and if I could but meet him agen.
Enter Lafew.
Laf. Sirra, your Lord and masters married, there'snewes for you: you haue a new Mistris.
Par. I most vnfainedly beseech your Lordshippe tomake some reseruation of your wrongs. He is my goodLord, whom I serue aboue is my master.
Laf. Who? God.
Par. I sir.
Laf. The deuill it is, that's thy master. Why dooestthou garter vp thy armes a this fashion? Dost make hoseof thy sleeues? Do other seruants so? Thou wert best setthy lower part where thy nose stands. By mine Honor,if I were but two houres yonger, I'de beate thee: mee-think'stthou art a generall offence, and euery man sholdbeate thee: I thinke thou wast created for men to breaththemselues vpon thee.
Par. This is hard and vndeserued measure my Lord.
Laf. Go too sir, you were beaten in Italy for pickinga kernell out of a Pomgranat, you are a vagabond, andno true traueller: you are more sawcie with Lordes andhonourable personages, then the Commission of yourbirth and vertue giues you Heraldry. You are not worthExit.another word, else I'de call you knaue. I leaue you.
Enter Count Rossillion.
Par. Good, very good, it is so then: good, verygood, 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 hauesworne, I will not bed her.
Par. What? what sweet heart?
Ros. O my Parrolles, 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:He weares his honor in a boxe vnseene,That hugges his kickie wickie heare at home,Spending his manlie marrow in her armesWhich should sustaine the bound and high curuetOf 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 KingThat which I durst not speake. His present giftShall furnish me to those Italian fieldsWhere noble fellowes strike: Warres is no strifeTo 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 hardA yong man maried, is a man that's mard:Therefore away, and leaue her brauely: go,Exit.The King ha's done you wrong: but hush 'tis so.
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'svery merrie, but yet she is not well: but thankes be giuen she's very well, and wants nothing i'th world: butyet she is not well.
Hel. If she be verie wel, what do's she ayle, that she'snot 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 sendher quickly: the other, that she's in earth, from whenceGod send her quickly.
Enter Parolles.
Par. Blesse you my fortunate Ladie.
Hel. I hope sir I haue your good will to haue mineowne good fortune.
Par. You had my prayers to leade them on, and tokeepe them on, haue them still. O my knaue, how do'smy 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 manstongue 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 verielittle of nothing.
Par. Away, th'art a knaue.
Clo. You should haue said sir before a knaue, th'art aknaue, that's before me th'art a knaue: this had beenetruth sir.
Par. Go too, thou art a wittie foole, I haue found thee.
Clo. Did you finde me in your selfe sir, or were youtaught to finde me?
Clo. The search sir was profitable, and much Foolemay you find in you, euen to the worlds pleasure, and theencrease of laughter.
Par. A good knaue ifaith, and well fed.Madam, my Lord will go awaie to night, A verie serrious businesse call's on him: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 sweetsWhich 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 thinkeMay make it probable neede.
Hel. What more commands hee?
Par. That hauing this obtain'd, you presentheAttend his further pleasure.
Hel. In euery thing I waite vpon his will.
Par. Exit Par.I shall report it so.
Hell. Exit.I pray you come sirrah.
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 Larkefor 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, andtransgrest against his valour, and my state that way isdangerous, 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 endof a dinner, but on that lies three thirds, and vses aknown truth to passe a thousand nothings with, shouldbee once hard, and thrice beaten. God saue you Captaine.
Ber. Is there any vnkindnes betweene my Lord andyou Monsieur?
Par. I know not how I haue deserued to run into myLords displeasure.
Laf. You haue made shift to run into't, bootes andspurres and all: like him that leapt into the Custard, andout of it you'le runne againe, rather then suffer questionfor your residence.
Ber. It may bee you haue mistaken him my Lord.
Laf. And shall doe so euer, though I tooke him at'sprayers. Fare you well my Lord, and beleeue this ofme, there can be no kernell in this light Nut: the souleof this man is his cloathes: Trust him not in matter ofheauie consequence: I haue kept of them tame, & knowtheir natures. Farewell Monsieur, I haue spoken betterof you, then you haue or will to deserue at my hand, butwe 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 speechGiues him a worthy passe. Heere comes my clog.
Enter Helena.
Hel. I haue sir as I was commanded from youSpoke with the King, and haue procur'd his leaueFor present parting, onely he desiresSome 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 doesThe ministration, and required officeOn my particular. Prepar'd I was notFor such a businesse, therefore am I foundSo 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 needeGreater 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, soI 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 shallWith true obseruance seeke to eeke out thatWherein toward me my homely starres haue faildTo 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 stealeWhat 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:Exit.Where are my other men? Monsieur, farwell.
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.