Internet Shakespeare Editions

Author: William Shakespeare
Editors: Andrew Griffin, Helen Ostovich
Not Peer Reviewed

All's Well That Ends Well (Folio 1, 1623)

All's Well that Ends Well
The manie colour'd Iris rounds thine eye?
------ Why, that you are my daughter?
Hell That I am not.
Old.Cou I say I am your Mother.
480Hell Pardon Madam.
The Count Rosillioncannot be my brother:
I am from humble, he from honored name:
No note vpon my Parents, his all noble,
My Master, my deere Lord he is, and I
485His seruant liue, and will his vassall die:
He must not be my brother.
Ol.Cou Nor I your Mother.
Hell You are my mother Madam, would you were
So that my Lord your sonne were not my brother,
490Indeede my mother, or were you both our mothers,
I care no more for, then I doe for heauen,
So I were not his sister, cant no other,
But I your daughter, he must be my brother.
Old.Cou Yes Hellen you might be my daughter in law,
495God shield you meane it not, daughter and mother
So striue vpon your pulse; what pale agen?
My feare hath catcht your fondnesse! now I see
The mistrie of your louelinesse, and finde
Your salt teares head, now to all sence 'tis grosse:
500You loue my sonne, inuention is asham'd
Against the proclamation of thy passion
To say thou doost not: therefore tell me true,
But tell me then 'tis so, for looke, thy cheekes
Confesse it 'ton tooth to th' other, and thine eies
505See it so grosely showne in thy behauiours,
That in their kinde they speake it, onely sinne
And hellish obstinacie tye thy tongue
That truth should be suspected, speake, ist so?
If it be so, you haue wound a goodly clewe:
510If it be not, forsweare't how ere I charge thee,
As heauen shall worke in me for thine auaile
To tell me truelie.
Hell Good Madam pardon me.
Cou Do you loue my Sonne?
515Hell Your pardon noble Mistris.
Cou Loue you my Sonne?
Hell Doe not you loue him Madam?
Cou Goe not about; my loue hath in't a bond
Whereof the world takes note: Come, come, disclose:
520The state of your affection, for your passions
Haue to the full appeach'd.
Hell Then I confesse
Here on my knee, before high heauen and you,
That before you, and next vnto high heauen, I loue your
525 Sonne:
My friends were poore but honest, so's my loue:
Be not offended, for it hurts not him
That he is lou'd of me; I follow him not
By any token of presumptuous suite,
530Nor would I haue him, till I doe deserue him,
Yet neuer know how that desert should be:
I know I loue in vaine, striue against hope:
Yet in this captious, and intemible Siue.
I still poure in the waters of my loue
535And lacke not to loose still; thus Indianlike
Religious in mine error, I adore
The Sunne that lookes vpon his worshipper,
But knowes of him no more. My deerest Madam,
Let not your hate incounter with my loue,
540For louing where you doe; but if your selfe,
Whose aged honor cites a vertuous youth,
Did euer, in so true a flame of liking,
Wish chastly, and loue dearely, that your Dian
Was both her selfe and loue, O then giue pittie
545To her whose state is such, that cannot choose
But lend and giue where she is sure to loose;
That seekes not to finde that, her search implies,
But riddle like, liues sweetely where she dies.
Cou Had you not lately an intent, speake truely,
550To goe to Paris
Hell Madam I had.
Cou Wherefore? tell true.
Hell I will tell truth, by grace it selfe I sweare:
You know my Father left me some prescriptions
555Of rare and prou'd effects, such as his reading
And manifest experience, had collected
For generall soueraigntie: and that he wil'd me
In heedefull'st reseruation to bestow them,
As notes, whose faculties inclusiue were,
560More then they were in note: Amongst the rest,
There is a remedie, approu'd, set downe,
To cure the desperate languishings whereof
The King is render'd lost.
Cou This was your motiue for Paris was it, speake?
565Hell My Lord, your sonne, made me to think of this;
Else Paris and the medicine, and the King,
Had from the conuersation of my thoughts,
Happily beene absent then.
Cou But thinke you Hellen
570If you should tender your supposed aide,
He would receiue it? He and his Phisitions
Are of a minde, he, that they cannot helpe him:
They, that they cannot helpe, how shall they credit
A poore vnlearned Virgin, when the Schooles
575Embowel'd of their doctrine, haue left off
The danger to it selfe.
Hell There's something in't
More then my Fathers skill, which was the great'st
Of his profession, that his good rec eipt,
580Shall for my legacie be sanctified
Byth' luckiest stars in heauen, and would your honor
But giue me leaue to trie successe, I'de venture
The well lost life of mine, on his Graces cure,
By such a day, an houre.
585Cou Doo'st thou beleeue't?
Hell I Madam knowingly.
Cou Why Hellenthou shalt haue my leaue and loue,
Meanes and attendants, and my louing greetings
To those of mine in Court, Ile staie at home
590And praie Gods blessing into thy attempt:
Begon to morrow, and be sure of this,
What I can helpe thee to, thou shalt not misse.

Actus Secundus

Enter the King with diuers yong Lords, taking leaue for
the Florentine warre: Count, Rosse, and
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
600The guift doth stretch it selfe as 'tis receiu'd,
And is enough for both.
Lord. G 'Tis our hope sir,
All's Well, that Ends Well