All's Well That Ends Well (Folio 1, 1623)
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ALL'S
Well, that Ends Well.
1
Actus primus. Scoena Prima
¶
Enter yong Bertram Count of Rossillion, his Mother, and
¶Helena, Lord Lafew, all in blacke
¶
Mother
¶cond husband.
¶Ros And I in going Madam, weep ore my
¶sties command, to whom I am now in Ward, euermore
10in subiection.
15it where there is such abundance.
20the loosing of hope by time.
¶Mo This yong Gentlewoman had a father, O that
¶made nature immortall, and death should haue play for
¶his great right to be so: Gerard de Narbon
30Laf He was excellent indeed Madam, the King very
¶latelie spoke of him admiringly, and mourningly: hee
35of?
¶Ros I heard not of it before.
¶tlewoman the Daughter of Gerard de Narbon
¶ouer looking. I haue those hopes of her good, that her
¶makes faire gifts fairer: for where an vncleane mind car-
¶ries vertuous qualities, there commendations go with
45pitty, they are vertues and traitors too: in her they are
¶Lafew Your commendations Madam get from her
¶teares.
¶in. The remembrance of her father neuer approches her
¶heart, but the tirrany of her sorrowes takes all liuelihood
¶from her cheeke. No more of this Helena go too, no
55to haue------
¶Laf Moderate lamentation is the right of the dead,
60makes it soone mortall.
¶In manners as in shape: thy blood and vertue
¶Share with thy birth-right. Loue all, trust a few,
¶Doe wrong to none: be able for thine enemie
¶Rather in power then vse: and keepe thy friend
¶Vnder thy owne lifes key. Be checkt for silence,
70But neuer tax'd for speech. What heauen more wil,
¶That thee may furnish, and my prayers plucke downe,
¶Fall on thy head. Farwell my Lord,
¶Aduise him.
¶That shall attend his loue.
¶be seruants to you: be comfortable to my mother, your
80Mistris, and make much of her.
¶dit of your father.
¶Hell O were that all, I thinke not on my father,
¶And these great teares grace his remembrance more
¶I haue forgott him. My imagination
¶Carries no fauour in't but Bertrams
¶I am vndone, there is no liuing, none,
¶If Bertram be away. 'Twere all one,
¶And think to wed it, he is so aboue me
¶In his bright radience and colaterall light,
¶Th' ambition in my loue thus plagues it selfe:
95The hind that would be mated by the Lion
¶Must die for loue. 'Twas prettie, though a plague
¶His arched browes, his hawking eie, his curles
¶In our hearts table: heart too capeable
100Of euerie line and tricke of his sweet fauour.
¶But now he's gone, and my idolatrous fancie
¶
Enter Parrolles
¶One that goes with him: I loue him for his sake,
105And yet I know him a notorious Liar,
¶Thinke him a great way foole, solie a coward,
¶That they take place, when Vertues steely bones
¶Lookes bleake i'th cold wind: withall, full ofte we see
¶Par Saue you faire Queene.
¶Hel And you Monarch.
¶Par No.
¶Hel And no.
115Par Are you meditating on virginitie?
¶how may we barracado it against him?
¶Par Keepe him out.
¶ant, in the defence yet is weak: vnfold to vs some war-like
¶will vndermine you, and blow you vp.
¶and blowers vp. Is there no Military policy how Vir-
¶gins might blow vp men?
¶Par Virginity beeing blowne downe, Man will
¶quicklier be blowne vp: marry in blowing him downe
¶Citty. It is not politicke, in the Common-wealth of
¶rationall encrease, and there was neuer Virgin goe, till
135tall to make Virgins. Virginitie, by beeing once lost,
¶may be ten times found: by being euer kept, it is euer
¶lost: 'tis too cold a companion: Away with't.
¶a Virgin.
¶rule of Nature. To speake on the part of virginitie, is
¶gainst Nature. Virginitie breedes mites, much like a
¶Away with't.
¶liking?
¶an olde Courtier, weares her cap out of fashion, richly
¶pick, which were not now: your Date is better in your
¶Pye and your Porredge, then in your cheeke: and your
165virginity, your old virginity, is like one of our French
¶wither'd peares, it lookes ill, it eates drily, marry 'tis a
¶wither'd peare: it was formerly better, marry yet 'tis a
¶wither'd peare: Will you any thing with it?
¶Hel Not my virginity yet:
¶A Phenix, Captaine, and an enemy,
175His humble ambition, proud humility:
¶His iarring, concord: and his discord, dulcet:
¶Of pretty fond adoptious christendomes
¶The Courts a learning place, and he is one.
¶Par What one ifaith?
¶Par What's pitty?
¶Which might be felt, that we the poorer borne,
¶Might vvith effects of them follow our friends,
190Returnes vs thankes.
¶
Enter Page
¶My Lord cals for you.
¶Par Little Hellenfarewell, if I can remember thee, I
195will thinke of thee at Court.
¶charitable starre.
¶Par Vnder MarsI.
200Par Why vnder Mars
¶must needes be borne vnder Mars
¶Par When he was predominant.
¶Hel When he was retrograde I thinke rather.
¶Par That's for aduantage.
¶Hel So is running away,
210But the composition that your valour and feare makes
¶in you, is a vertue of a good wing, and I like the
¶weare well.
¶thee acutely: I will returne perfect Courtier, in the
¶thou wilt be capeable of a Courtiers councell, and vn-
¶diest in thine vnthankfulnes, and thine ignorance makes
220praiers: when thou hast none, remember thy Friends:
¶So farewell.
225Giues vs free scope, onely doth backward pull
¶What power is it, which mounts my loue so hye,
¶That makes me see, and cannot feede mine eye?
¶What hath beene, cannot be. Who euer stroue
¶But my intents are fixt, and will not leaue me.
Exit
¶
Flourish Cornets
¶
Enter the King of France with Letters, and
¶diuers Attendants
240King The Florentinesand Senoysare by th' eares,
¶Haue fought with equall fortune, and continue
¶A brauing warre.
¶With caution, that the Florentinewill moue vs
¶To haue vs make deniall.
¶For amplest credence.
¶And Florenceis deni'de before he comes:
255Yet for our Gentlemen that meane to see
¶To stand on either part.
260For breathing, and exploit.
¶King What's he comes heere.
¶
Enter Bertram, Lafew, and Parolles
¶Yong Bertram
¶Franke Nature rather curious then in hast
¶Hath well compos'd thee: Thy Fathers morall parts
¶Maist thou inherit too: Welcome to Paris
¶Into the seruice of the time, and was
¶And wore vs out of act: It much repaires me
¶To talke of your good father; in his youth
¶He had the wit, which I can well obserue
¶To day in our yong Lords: but they may iest
280Till their owne scorne returne to them vnnoted
¶Ere they can hide their leuitie in honour:
¶His equall had awak'd them, and his honour
285Clocke to it selfe, knew the true minute when
¶Exception bid him speake: and at this time
¶His tongue obey'd his hand. Who were below him,
¶He vs'd as creatures of another place,
¶And bow'd his eminent top to their low rankes,
290Making them proud of his humilitie,
¶In their poore praise he humbled: Such a man
¶Might be a copie to these yonger times;
¶Which followed well, would demonstrate them now
¶But goers backward.
¶Lies richer in your thoughts, then on his tombe:
¶So in approofe liues not his Epitaph,
¶As in your royall speech.
300(Me thinkes I heare him now) his plausiue words
¶He scatter'd not in eares, but grafted them
¶To grow there and to beare: Let me not liue,
¶This his good melancholly oft began
305When it was out: Let me not liue (quoth hee)
¶After my flame lackes oyle, to be the snuffe
¶I after him, do after him wish too:
¶Since I nor wax nor honie can bring home,
¶To giue some Labourers roome.
315L2.E You'r loued Sir,
¶Since the Physitian at your fathers died?
¶He was much fam'd.
¶Kin If he were liuing, I would try him yet.
¶Lend me an arme: the rest haue worne me out
¶Debate it at their leisure. Welcome Count,
325My sonne's no deerer.
¶
Flourish
¶
Enter Countesse, Steward, and Clowne
330woman.
¶endeuours, for then we wound our Modestie, and make
335we publish them.
¶Coun What doe's this knaue heere? Get you gone
¶lacke not folly to commit them, & haue abilitie enough
340to make such knaueries yours.
¶Clo 'Tis not vnknown to you Madam, I am a poore
¶fellow.
¶Clo No maddam,
345'Tis not so well that I am poore, though manie
¶of the rich are damn'd, but if I may haue your Ladiships
¶good will to goe to the world, Isbellthe woman and w
¶will doe as we may.
¶Coun Wilt thou needes be a begger?
355sings.
¶Clo My poore bodie Madam requires it, I am driuen
¶driues.
¶they are.
¶Cou May the world know them?
¶Clo I haue beene Madam a wicked creature, as you
365and all flesh and blood are, and indeede I doe marrie that
¶I may repent.
¶Clo I am out a friends Madam, and I hope to haue
¶friends for my wiues sake.
370Cou Such friends are thine enemies knaue.
¶knaues come to doe that for me which I am a wearie of:
¶he that eres my Land, spares my teame, and giues mee
¶leaue to Inne the crop: if I be his cuckold hee's my
375drudge; he that comforts my wife, is the cherisher of
¶friend: if men could be contented to be what they are,
380there were no feare in marriage, for yong Charbonthe
¶hearts are seuer'd in Religion, their heads are both one,
¶they may ioule horns together like any Deare i'th Herd.
385nious knaue?
¶next waie, for I the Ballad will repeate, which men full
¶Cuckow sings by kinde.
¶come to you, of her I am to speake.
¶her, HellenI meane.
¶Why the Grecians sacked Troy
¶Fond done, done, fond was this King Priamsioy,
¶And gaue this sentence then, among nine bad if one be
400good, among nine bad if one be good, there's yet one
¶good in ten.
¶sirra.
¶all the yeere, weed finde no fault with the tithe woman
¶if I were the Parson, one in ten quoth a? and wee might
¶haue a good woman borne but ore euerie blazing starre,
¶or at an earthquake, 'twould mend the Lotterie well, a
410man may draw his heart out ere a plucke one.
¶you?
¶yet no hurt done, though honestie be no Puritan, yet
415it will doe no hurt, it will weare the Surplis of humilitie
¶ouer the blacke-Gowne of a bigge heart: I am go-
¶
Exit
¶Cou Well now.
420Stew I know Madam you loue your Gentlewoman
¶intirely.
¶Cou Faith I doe: her Father bequeath'd her to mee,
¶lie make title to as much loue as shee findes, there is
425more owing her then is paid, and more shall be paid
¶her then sheele demand.
¶Stew Madam, I was verie late more neere her then
¶communicate to her selfe her owne words to her
430owne eares, shee thought, I dare vowe for her, they
¶estates: Loue no god, that would not extend his might
435onelie, where qualities were leuell, Queene of Vir-
¶sorrow that ere I heard Virgin exclaime in, which I held
¶to know it.
¶to your selfe, manie likelihoods inform'd mee of this
445before, which hung so tottring in the ballance, that
¶I could neither beleeue nor misdoubt: praie you
¶ther anon.
Exit Steward
450
Enter Hellen
¶If euer vve are natures, these are ours, this thorne
¶Doth to our Rose of youth rightlie belong
¶Our bloud to vs, this to our blood is borne,
¶By our remembrances of daies forgon,
¶Such were our faults, or then we thought them none,
¶Ol. Cou You know HellenI am a mother to you.
¶Ol. Cou Nay a mother, why not a mother? when I
¶ sed a mother
¶And put you in the Catalogue of those
¶That were enwombed mine, 'tis often seene
¶You nere opprest me with a mothers groane,
¶(Gods mercie maiden) dos it curd thy blood
¶To say I am thy mother? vvhat's the matter,
¶The manie colour'd Iris rounds thine eye?
¶------ Why, that you are my daughter?
¶Hell That I am not.
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
¶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,
¶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
¶But tell me then 'tis so, for looke, thy cheekes
¶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?
¶Cou Loue you my Sonne?
¶Hell Doe not you loue him Madam?
¶Cou Goe not about; my loue hath in't a bond
¶Haue to the full appeach'd.
¶Here on my knee, before high heauen and you,
¶That before you, and next vnto high heauen, I loue your
525 Sonne:
¶Be not offended, for it hurts not him
¶That he is lou'd of me; I follow him not
530Nor would I haue him, till I doe deserue him,
¶Yet in this captious, and intemible Siue.
¶I still poure in the waters of my loue
¶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,
¶Was both her selfe and loue, O then giue pittie
550To goe to Paris
¶Hell Madam I had.
¶Cou Wherefore? tell true.
555Of rare and prou'd effects, such as his reading
¶And manifest experience, had collected
¶For generall soueraigntie: and that he wil'd me
¶There is a remedie, approu'd, set downe,
¶The King is render'd lost.
¶Else Paris and the medicine, and the King,
¶Had from the conuersation of my thoughts,
¶Happily beene absent then.
¶Cou But thinke you Hellen
¶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.
580Shall for my legacie be sanctified
¶The well lost life of mine, on his Graces cure,
¶By such a day, an houre.
¶Hell I Madam knowingly.
¶Meanes and attendants, and my louing greetings
¶Begon to morrow, and be sure of this,
Exeunt
¶
Actus Secundus
¶
Enter the King with diuers yong Lords, taking leaue for
Florish Cornets
¶Doe not throw from you, and you my Lords farewell:
¶Share the aduice betwixt you, if both gaine, all
¶And is enough for both.
¶After well entred souldiers, to returne
¶And finde your grace in health.
605King No, no, it cannot be; and yet my heart
¶That doth my life besiege: farwell yong Lords,
¶Whether I liue or die, be you the sonnes
¶Of worthy French men: let higher Italy
610(Those bated that inherit but the fall
¶Not to wooe honour, but to wed it, when
¶That fame may cry you loud: I say farewell.
¶They say our French, lacke language to deny
¶If they demand: beware of being Captiues
¶Before you serue.
620Bo Our hearts receiue your warnings.
¶King Farewell, come hether to me.
¶2. Lo. E Oh 'tis braue warres.
¶Rossill I am commanded here, and kept a coyle with,
¶Too young, and the next yeere, and 'tis too early.
¶Steale away brauely.
¶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.
635Parr Commit it Count.
¶Ros I grow to you, & our parting is a tortur'd body.
¶1. Lo. G Farewell Captaine.
¶shall finde in the Regiment of the Spinij, one Captaine
¶Spuriohis sicatrice, with an Embleme of warre heere on
¶Parr Marsdoate on you for his nouices, what will
¶ye doe?
¶Ros Stay the King.
¶true gate; eat, speake, and moue vnder the influence of
¶more dilated farewell.
660newie sword-men.
Exeunt
¶
Enter Lafew
¶L. Laf Pardon my Lord for mee and for my tidings.
665I would you had kneel'd my Lord to aske me mercy,
¶And askt thee mercy for't.
670Will 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
675That's able to breath life into a stone,
¶Quicken a rocke, and make you dance Canari
¶Is powerfull to arayse King Pippen nay
¶To giue great Charlemainea pen in's hand
680And write to her a loue-line.
¶King What her is this?
¶If you will see her: now by my faith and honour,
685In this my light deliuerance, I haue spoke
690That 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.
695Laf Nay, Ile fit you,
¶And not be all day neither.
¶Laf Nay, come your waies.
¶
Enter Hellen
¶Laf Nay, come your waies,
¶A Traitor you doe looke like, but such traitors
705That dare leaue two together, far you well.
Exit
¶Hel I my good Lord,
¶Gerard de Narbonwas my father,
710King I knew him.
¶Knowing him is enough: on's bed of death,
¶Many receits he gaue me, chieflie one,
715And 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
720Of my deare fathers gift, stands cheefe in power,
¶I come to tender it, and my appliance,
¶King We thanke you maiden,
¶But may not be so credulous of cure,
725When our most learned Doctors leaue vs, and
¶The congregated Colledge haue concluded,
¶That labouring Art can neuer ransome nature
¶So staine our iudgement, or corrupt our hope,
735I will no more enforce mine office on you,
¶Humbly intreating from your royall thoughts,
¶A modest one to beare me backe againe.
¶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,
¶So holy Writ, in babes hath iudgement showne,
¶When Iudges haue bin babes; great flouds haue flowne
750When Miracles haue by the great'st beene denied.
¶Oft expectation failes, and most oft there
¶Proffers not tooke, reape thanks for their reward.
¶It is not so with him that all things knowes
¶The help of heauen we count the act of men.
¶Of heauen, not me, make an experiment.
¶I am not an Impostrue, that proclaime
¶Hop'st thou my cure?
¶Their fiery torcher his diurnall ring,
¶Ere twice in murke and occidentall dampe
¶King Vpon thy certainty and confidence,
780What dar'st thou venter?
¶Hell Taxe of impudence,
¶Traduc'd by odious ballads: my maidens name
785With vildest torture, let my life be ended.
¶His powerfull sound, within an organ weake:
790Thy 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
¶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,
800And 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.
¶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
810With any branch or image of thy state:
815So make the choice of thy owne time, for I
¶Though more to know, could not be more to trust:
¶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
¶of your breeding.
830ciall, when you put off that with such contempt, but to
¶the Court?
¶ners, hee may easilie put it off at Court: hee that cannot
835thing, has neither legge, hands, lippe, nor cap; and in-
¶questions.
840Clo It is like a Barbers chaire that fits all buttockes,
¶the pin buttocke, the quatch-buttocke, the brawn but-
¶tocke, or any buttocke.
845ney, as your French Crowne for your taffety punke, as
¶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,
850nay as the pudding to his skin.
¶all questions?
¶that must fit all demands.
¶Clo But a triflle neither in good faith, if the learned
860harme to learne.
¶Lady To be young againe if we could: I will bee a
¶swer.
¶more, a hundred of them.
¶La Sir I am a poore freind of yours, that loues you.
870meate.
¶to your whipping: you would answere very well to a
¶whipping if you were but bound too't.
¶taine it so merrily with a foole.
¶This is not much.
¶Clo Not much commendation to them.
¶stand me.
¶
Enter Count, Lafew, and Parolles
¶an vnknowne feare.
900hath shot out in our latter times.
¶Ol. Laf Of all the learned and authenticke fellowes.
¶Ol. Laf That gaue him out incureable.
¶Ol. Laf Not to be help'd.
¶shall reade it in what do ye call there.
¶ly Actor.
¶Ol.Laf Very hand of heauen.
¶be made, then alone the recou'ry of the king, as to bee
¶Old Laf Generally thankfull.
930
Enter King, Hellen, and attendants
¶the King.
¶maide the Better whil'st I haue a tooth in my head: why
935he's able to leade her a Carranto.
¶Par Mor du vinager is not this Helen
¶King Goe call before mee all the Lords in Court,
¶The confirmation of my promis'd guift,
¶Which but attends thy naming.
¶
Enter 3 or 4 Lords
945Faire Maide send forth thine eye, this youthfull parcell
¶Ore whom both Soueraigne power, and fathers voice
¶I haue to vse; thy franke election make,
¶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.
¶Not one of those, but had a Noble father.
¶
She addresses her to a Lord
¶the king to health.
¶Let the white death sit on thy cheeke for euer,
¶Wee'l nere come there againe.
970Hel Now Dian from thy Altar do I fly,
¶And to imperiall loue, that God most high
¶1. Lo And grant it.
¶Ames-ace for my life.
¶Before I speake too threatningly replies:
¶Loue make your fortunes twentie times aboue
¶Which great loue grant, and so I take my leaue.
985of mine, I'de haue them whip'd, or I would send them
¶to'th Turke to make Eunuches of.
¶Ile neuer do you wrong for your owne sake:
990Finde fairer fortune, if you euer wed.
¶French nere got em.
¶La You are too young, too happie, and too good
¶of fourteene: I haue knowne thee already.
¶Into your guiding power: This is the man.
¶wife.
¶The helpe of mine owne eies.
¶done for mee?
1010Ber Yes my good Lord, but neuer hope to know
¶why I should marrie her.
¶ly bed.
¶Ber But followes it my Lord, to bring me downe
¶Shee had her breeding at my fathers charge:
¶Rather corrupt me euer.
1020I can build vp: strange is it that our bloods
¶Of colour, waight, and heat, pour'd all together,
¶Of 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,
1030It is a dropsied honour. Good alone,
¶The propertie by what is is, should go,
¶Not by the title. Shee is young, wise, faire,
¶Which challenges it selfe as honours borne,
¶And is not like the sire: Honours thriue,
¶When rather from our acts we them deriue
¶Then our fore-goers: the meere words, a slaue
1040Debosh'd on euerie tombe, on euerie graue:
¶A lying Trophee, and as oft is dumbe,
¶Where dust, and damn'd obliuion is the Tombe.
¶If thou canst like this creature, as a maide,
¶Is her owne dower: Honour and wealth, from mee.
¶to choose.
¶Let the rest go.
¶I must produce my power. Heere, take her hand,
¶Proud scornfull boy, vnworthie this good gift,
¶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
1060We please to haue it grow. Checke thy contempt:
¶Obey Our will, which trauailes in thy good:
¶Do thine owne fortunes that obedient right
¶Which both thy dutie owes, and Our power claimes,
1065Or I will throw thee from my care for euer
¶Of youth and ignorance: both my reuenge and hate
¶Without all termes of pittie. Speake, thine answer.
¶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
¶Is as 'twere borne so.
¶King Take her by the hand,
¶A counterpoize: If not to thy estate,
1080A 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,
¶Shall more attend vpon the coming space,
¶Thy loue's to me Religious: else, do's erre.
Exeunt
¶
Parolles and Lafew stay behind, commen-
1090tingof this wedding
¶cantation.
1100Par To any Count, to all Counts: to what is man.
¶another stile.
¶too old.
¶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
¶found thee, when I loose thee againe, I care not: yet art
¶thou good for nothing but taking vp, and that th'ourt
1115scarce worth.
¶on thee.
¶thou hasten thy triall: which if, Lord haue mercie on
1120thee 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.
¶Laf I with all my heart, and thou art worthy of it.
¶Laf Yes good faith, eu'ry dramme of it, and I will
¶not bate thee a scruple.
¶quaintance with thee, or rather my knowledge, that I
¶may say in the default, he is a man I know.
¶on.
¶poore doing eternall: for doing I am past, as I will by
¶thee, in what motion age will giue me leaue.
Exit
¶be patient, there is no fettering of authority. Ile beate
¶him (by my life) if I can meete him with any conueni-
¶ence, and he were double and double a Lord. Ile haue
1145no more pittie of his age then I would haue of------ Ile
¶beate him, and if I could but meet him agen.
¶
Enter Lafew
¶newes for you: you haue a new Mistris.
¶Laf Who? God.
¶if I were but two houres yonger, I'de beate thee: mee-
¶beate thee: I thinke thou wast created for men to breath
¶themselues vpon thee.
1165a kernell out of a Pomgranat, you are a vagabond, and
¶no true traueller: you are more sawcie with Lordes and
¶birth and vertue giues you Hera ldry. You are not worth
¶another word, else I'de call you knaue. I leaue you.
1170
Exit
¶
Enter Count Rossillion
¶good, let it be conceal'd awhile.
¶Ros Vndone, and forfeited to cares for euer.
¶sworne, I will not bed her.
¶Ros O my Parrolles they haue married me:
1180Ile to the Tuscanwarres, and neuer bed her.
¶Par Franceis a dog-hole, and it no more merits,
¶The tread of a mans foot: too'th warres.
¶port is, I know not yet.
1185Par 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 armes
¶Franceis a stable, wee that dwell in't Iades,
¶Therefore too'th warre.
1195Acquaint my mother with my hate to her,
¶And wherefore I am fled: Write to the King
1200To the darke house, and the detected wife.
¶Ros Go with me to my chamber, and aduice me.
¶A yong man maried, is a man that's mard:
¶Therefore away, and leaue her brauely: go,
Exit
¶
Enter Helena and Clowne
¶uen she's very well, and wants nothing i'th world: but
¶yet she is not well.
¶not verie well?
¶Hel What two things?
1220her quickly: the other, that she's in earth, from whence
¶God send her quickly.
¶
Enter Parolles
1225owne 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,
¶to do nothing, to know nothing, and to haue nothing,
1235is to be a great part of your title, which is within a verie
¶little of nothing.
¶Par Away, th'art a knaue.
¶knaue, that's before me th'art a knaue: this had beene
1240truth sir.
¶Par Go too, thou art a wittie foole, I haue found
¶thee.
¶taught to finde me?
¶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:
1255Which they distill now in the curbed time,
¶To make the comming houre oreflow with ioy,
¶And pleasure drowne the brim.
1260And make this hast as your owne good proceeding,
¶Strengthned with what Apologie you thinke
¶May make it probable neede.
¶Hel What more commands hee?
1265Attend his further pleasure.
¶Hel In euery thing I waite vpon his will.
¶
Enter Lafew and Bertram
¶souldier.
¶Ber Yes my Lord and of verie valiant approofe.
¶Laf You haue it from his owne deliuerance.
1275Laf Then my Diall goes not true, I tooke this Larke
¶for a bunting.
¶ledge, and accordinglie valiant.
¶dangerous, since I cannot yet find in my heart to repent:
¶Heere he comes, I pray you make vs freinds, I will pur-
¶sue the amitie.
¶
Enter Parolles
¶Par Sir?
¶man, a verie good Tailor.
¶Par Shee is.
¶Par As you'le haue her.
1295Giuen order for our horses, and to night,
¶And ere I doe begin.
¶of a dinner, but on that lies three thirds, and vses a
¶taine.
¶Ber Is there any vnkindnes betweene my Lord and
¶you Monsieur?
1310for your residence.
¶prayers. Fare you well my Lord, and beleeue this of
¶me, there can be no kernell in this light Nut: the soule
1315of this man is his cloathes: Trust him not in matter of
¶heauie consequence: I haue kept of them tame, & know
¶of you, then you haue or will to deserue at my hand, but
¶Par Why do you not know him?
1325
Enter Helena
¶Spoke with the King, and haue procur'd his leaue
¶Some priuate speech with you.
¶Which holds not colour with the time, nor does
¶The ministration, and required office
¶On my particular. Prepar'd I was not
¶So much vnsetled: This driues me to intreate you,
¶That presently you take your way for home,
1340And my appointments haue in them a neede
¶To you that know them not. This to my mother,
¶I leaue you to your wisedome.
¶Ber Come, come, no more of that.
1350Wherein toward me my homely starres haue faild
¶To equall my great fortune.
¶Hie home.
¶Hel I am not worthie of the wealth I owe,
¶Nor dare I say 'tis mine: and yet it is,
¶What law does vouch mine owne.
1360Ber What would you haue?
¶I would not tell you what I would my Lord: Faith yes,
¶Where are my other men? Monsieur, farwell.
Exit
¶Ber Go thou toward home, where I wil neuer come,
¶Away, and for our flight.
1370Par Brauely, Coragio.
¶
Actus Tertius
¶
Flourish. Enter the Duke of Florence, the two Frenchmen
¶
with a troope of Souldiers
¶Duke So that from point to point, now haue you heard
1375The fundamentall reasons of this warre,
¶And more thirsts after.
¶Vpon your Graces part: blacke and fearefull
1380On the opposer.
¶Against our borrowing prayers.
¶FrenchE Good my Lord,
¶But like a common and an outward man,
¶That the great figure of a Counsaile frames,
¶By selfe vnable motion, therefore dare not
¶Say what I thinke of it, since I haue found
1390My selfe in my incertaine grounds to faile
¶As often as I guest.
1395Come heere for Physicke.
¶And all the honors that can flye from vs,
¶Shall on them settle: you know your places well,
¶When better fall, for your auailes they fell,
1400To morrow to'th the field.
Flourish
¶
Enter Countesse and Clowne
¶that he comes not along with her.
1405rie melancholly man.
¶his teeth, and sing: I know a man that had this tricke of
1410melancholy hold a goodly Mannor for a song.
¶to come.
¶Our old Lings, and our Isbelsa'th Country, are nothing
1415like your old Ling and your Isbelsa'th Court: the brains
¶of my Cupid's knock'd out, and I beginne to loue, as an
¶old man loues money, with no stomacke.
¶Lad What haue we heere?
1420
A Letter
¶_King, and vndone me I haue wedded her, not bedded her¶_runne away, know it before the report come. If there bee¶Bertram._
¶This is not well rash and vnbridled boy,
¶To flye the fauours of so good a King,
1430To plucke his indignation on thy head,
¶For the contempt of Empire.
¶
Enter Clowne
1435tweene two souldiers, and my yong Ladie.
¶La What is the matter.
¶he would.
¶men, though it be the getting of children. Heere they
¶come will tell you more. For my part I onely heare your
1445sonne was run away.
¶
Enter Hellen and two Gentlemen
¶FrenchE Saue you good Madam.
¶Hel Madam, my Lord is gone, for euer gone.
1450La Thinke vpon patience, pray you Gentlemen,
¶I haue felt so many quirkes of ioy and greefe,
¶Can woman me vntoo't. Where is my sonne I pray you?
1455 rence,
¶We met him thitherward, for thence we came:
¶Thither we bend againe.
1460
When thou canst get the Ring vpon my finger, which neuer
¶I write a Neuer
¶This is a dreadfull sentence.
1465La Brought you this Letter Gentlemen?
¶for our paines.
¶Old La I prethee Ladie haue a better cheere,
¶But I do wash his name out of my blood,
¶And thou art all my childe. Towards Florence is he?
¶Fren. G I Madam.
¶The Duke will lay vpon him all the honor
¶That good conuenience claimes.
¶La Returne you thither.
1480Hel. Till I haue no wife, I haue nothing in France
¶'Tis bitter.
¶La Finde you that there?
¶Hel I Madame.
1485his heart was not consenting too.
¶Lad Nothing in France, vntill he haue no wife:
¶There's nothing heere that is too good for him
¶That twenty such rude boyes might tend vpon,
1490And call her hourely Mistris. Who was with him?
¶haue sometime knowne.
¶La Parolleswas it not?
¶Fren. E I my good Ladie, hee.
¶My sonne corrupts a well deriued nature
¶With his inducement.
¶Fren. E Indeed good Ladie the fellow has a deale of
¶that, too much, which holds him much to haue.
1500La Y'are welcome Gentlemen, I will intreate you
¶neuer winne the honor that he looses: more Ile intreate
¶you written to beare along.
1505worthiest affaires.
¶Will you draw neere?
Exit
¶Hel.Till I haue no wife I haue nothing in France
¶Nothing in France vntill he has no wife:
¶Then hast thou all againe: poore Lord, is't I
¶Those tender limbes of thine, to the euent
¶Of the none-sparing warre? And is it I,
1515That driue thee from the sportiue Court, where thou
¶Was't shot at with faire eyes, to be the marke
¶That ride vpon the violent speede of fire,
1520That sings with piercing, do not touch my Lord:
¶Who euer charges on his forward brest
¶I am the Caitiffe that do hold him too't,
¶And though I kill him not, I am the cause
1525His death was so effected: Better 'twere
¶I met the rauine Lyon when he roar'd
¶That all the miseries which nature owes
1530Whence honor but of danger winnes a scarre,
¶As oft it looses all. I will be gone:
¶My being heere it is, that holds thee hence,
¶Shall I stay heere to doo't? No, no, although
1535And Angels offic'd all: I will be gone,
¶That pittifull rumour may report my flight
¶To consolate thine eare. Come night, end day,
¶For with the darke (poore theefe) Ile steale away.
Exit
¶
Flourish. Enter the Duke of Florence, Rossillion
1540
drum and trumpets, soldiers, Parrolles
¶Great in our hope, lay our best loue and credence
¶Vpon thy promising fortune.
¶Ber Sir it is
1545A charge too heauy for my strength, but yet
¶To th' extreme edge of hazard.
¶Duke Then go thou forth,
¶And fortune play vpon thy prosperous helme
¶Ber This very day
¶Great Mars I put my selfe into thy file,
¶Make me but like my thoughts, and I shall proue
¶A louer of thy drumme, hater of loue.
Exeunt omnes
1555
Enter Countesse & Steward
¶La Alas! and would you take the letter of her:
¶By sending me a Letter. Reade it agen.
¶
Letter
1560I am S. Iaques Pilgrim, thither gone¶Ambitious loue hath so in me offended¶That bare-foot plod I the cold ground vpon¶With sainted vow my faults to haue amended
¶Write, write, that from the bloodie course of warre¶His name with zealous feruour sanctifie¶His taken labours bid him me forgiue1570From Courtly friends, with Camping foes to liue¶Where death and danger dogges the heeles of worth¶He is too good and faire for death, and mee
1575Rynaldo you did neuer lacke aduice so much,
¶I could haue well diuerted her intents,
¶Which thus she hath preuented.
¶Ste Pardon me Madam,
1580If I had giuen you this at ouer-night,
¶She might haue beene ore-tane: and yet she writes
¶Pursuite would be but vaine.
¶And loues to grant, repreeue him from the wrath
¶To this vnworthy husband of his wife,
¶Let euerie word waigh heauie of her worth,
1590That he does waigh too light: my greatest greefe,
¶He will returne, and hope I may that shee
¶Led hither by pure loue: which of them both
¶My heart is heauie, and mine age is weake,
¶
Exeunt
¶
A Tucket afarre off
¶
Enter old Widdow of Florence, her daughter Violenta
¶Widdow Nay come,
¶For if they do approach the Citty,
¶Wid It is reported,
¶That he has taken their great'st Commander,
¶And that with his owne hand he slew
¶The Dukes brother: we haue lost our labour,
1615They are gone a contrarie way: harke,
¶you may know by their Trumpets.
¶Maria Come lets returne againe,
¶Well Diana take heed of this French Earle,
1620The honor of a Maide is her name,
¶And no Legacie is so rich
¶As honestie.
¶Widdow I haue told my neighbour
¶How you haue beene solicited by a Gentleman
1625His Companion.
¶Maria I know that knaue, hang him, one Parolles
1630not the things they go vnder: many a maide hath beene
¶terrible shewes in the wracke of maiden-hood, cannot
¶with the twigges that threatens them. I hope I neede
1635not to aduise you further, but I hope your owne grace
¶will keepe you where you are, though there were no
¶lost.
1640
Enter Hellen
¶bound?
1645Hel To S. Iaques la grand
¶Where do the Palmers lodge, I do beseech you?
1650If you will tarrie holy Pilgrime
¶But till the troopes come by,
¶I will conduct you where you shall be lodg'd,
¶As ample as my selfe.
¶Wid You came I thinke from France
¶That has done worthy seruice.
¶Hel His name I pray you?
1665His face I know not.
¶He's brauely taken heere. He stole from France
¶As 'tis reported: for the King had married him
¶Reports but coursely of her.
¶Hel What's his name?
1675Hel Oh I beleeue with him,
¶In argument of praise, or to the worth
¶To haue her name repeated, all her deseruing
1680I haue not heard examin'd.
¶Dian Alas poore Ladie,
¶'Tis a hard bondage to become the wife
¶Of a detesting Lord.
1685Her hart waighes sadly: this yong maid might do her
¶Hel How do you meane?
¶May be the amorous Count solicites her
¶In the vnlawfull purpose.
1690Wid He does indeede,
¶Corrupt the tender honour of a Maide:
¶But she is arm'd for him, and keepes her guard
1695
Drumme and Colours
¶
Enter Count Rossillion, Parrolles, and the whole Armie
¶Wid So, now they come:
1700That Escalus
¶Hel Which is the Frenchman?
¶Dia Hee,
¶That with the plume, 'tis a most gallant fellow,
¶I would he lou'd his wife: if he were honester
1705He were much goodlier. Is't not a handsom Gentleman
¶Hel I like him well.
¶That leades him to these places: were I his Ladie,
1710Hel Which is he?
¶melancholly?
¶Hel Perchance he's hurt i'th battaile.
¶has spyed vs.
¶Wid Marrie hang you.
Exit
¶There's foure or fiue, to great S. Iaquesbound,
¶Alreadie at my house.
¶Hel I humbly thanke you:
¶Please it this Matron, and this gentle Maide
1725To eate with vs to night, the charge and thanking
¶Shall be for me, and to requite you further,
¶Worthy the note.
1730
Enter Count Rossillion and the Frenchmen
¶as at first
¶Cap. E Nay good my Lord put him too't: let him
¶haue his way.
1735hold me no more in your respect.
¶Cap. E On my life my Lord, a bubble.
¶Deceiued in him.
¶Cap. E Beleeue it my Lord, in mine owne direct
1740knowledge, without any malice, but to speake of him
¶owner of no one good qualitie, worthy your Lordships
¶entertainment.
¶farre in his vertue which he hath not, he might at some
¶you.
¶Ber I would I knew in what particular action to try
1750him.
¶Cap. G None better then to let him fetch off his
¶take to do.
¶not from the enemie: wee will binde and hoodwinke
¶ried into the Leager of the aduersaries, when we bring
1760at his examination, if he do not for the promise of his
¶betray you, and deliuer all the intelligence in his power
¶against you, and that with the diuine forfeite of his
1765thing.
¶Cap. G O for the loue of laughter, let him fetch his
¶what mettle this counterfeyt lump of ours will be mel-
1770ted if you giue him not Iohn drummes entertainement,
¶your inclining cannot be remoued. Heere he comes.
¶
Enter Parrolles
¶nor of his designe, let him fetch off his drumme in any
1775hand.
¶Cap. G A pox on't, let it go, 'tis but a drumme.
1780lost. There was excellent command, to charge in with
¶our horse vpon our owne wings, and to rend our owne
¶souldiers.
¶Cap. G That was not to be blam'd in the command
1785selfe could not haue preuented, if he had beene there to
¶command.
¶but it is not to be recouered.
1790Par It might haue beene recouered.
¶Ber It might, but it is not now.
¶mer, I would haue that drumme or another, or hic ia-
1795cet
¶instrument of honour againe into his natiue quarter, be
¶magnanimious in the enterprize and go on, I wil grace
1800the attempt for a worthy exploit: if you speede well in
¶pen downe my dilemma's, encourage my selfe in my
¶certaintie, put my selfe into my mortall preparation:
¶and by midnight looke to heare further from me.
1810Ber May I bee bold to acquaint his grace you are
¶gone about it.
¶but the attempt I vow.
¶Ber I know th'art valiant,
¶done, damnes himselfe to do, & dares better be damnd
¶then to doo't.
¶Cap. G You do not know him my Lord as we doe,
¶ries, but when you finde him out, you haue him euer af-
¶ter.
¶Ber Why do you thinke he will make no deede at
1830vnto?
¶uention, and clap vpon you two or three probable lies:
1835spect.
1840rie night.
¶He shall be caught.
¶And found her wondrous cold, but I sent to her
1850By this same Coxcombe that we haue i'th winde
¶And this is all I haue done: She's a faire creature,
¶Will you go see her?
1855
Enter Hellen, and Widdow
¶And would not put my reputation now
¶In any staining act.
¶Is so from word to word: and then you cannot
¶By the good ayde that I of you shall borrow,
¶Erre in bestowing it.
1870For you haue shew'd me that which well approues
¶Y'are great in fortune.
¶And let me buy your friendly helpe thus farre,
¶Which I will ouer-pay, and pay againe
1875When I haue found it. The Count he woes your
¶ daughter,
¶Layes downe his wanton siedge before her beautie,
¶As wee'l direct her how 'tis best to beare it:
1880Now his important blood will naught denie,
¶That shee'l demand: a ring the Countie weares,
¶Since the first father wore it. This Ring he holds
1885In most rich choice: yet in his idle fire,
¶To buy his will, it would not seeme too deere,
¶How ere repented after.
¶Desires this Ring; appoints him an encounter;
¶In fine, deliuers me to fill the time,
¶To marry her, Ile adde three thousand Crownes
1895To what is past already.
¶Wid I haue yeelded:
¶That time and place with this deceite so lawfull
¶May proue coherent. Euery night he comes
¶As if his life lay on't.
¶Hel Why then to night
¶Is wicked meaning in a lawfull deede;
¶And lawfull meaning in a lawfull act,
¶But let's about it.
1910
Actus Quartus
¶
Enter one of the Frenchmen, with fiue or sixe other
¶1. LordE He can come no other way but by this hedge
1915Language you will: though you vnderstand it not your
¶duce for an Interpreter.
¶1. Sol Good Captaine, let me be th' Interpreter.
1920Lor. . Art not acquainted with him? knowes he not
¶thy voice?
¶againe.
¶neighbouring Languages: therefore we must euery one
¶be a man of his owne fancie, not to know what we speak
¶our purpose: Choughs language, gabble enough, and
¶very politicke. But couch hoa, heere hee comes, to be-
1935the lies he forges.
¶
Enter Parrolles
¶late, knock'd too often at my doore: I finde my tongue
¶is too foole-hardie, but my heart hath the feare of Mars
¶before it, and of his creatures, not daring the reports of
¶my tongue.
¶was guiltie of.
¶the recouerie of this drumme, being not ignorant of the
¶came you off with so little? And great ones I dare not
1955ther of BaiazethsMule, if you prattle mee into these
¶perilles.
¶be that he is.
¶stratagem.
¶Lo. . 'Twould not do.
¶Citadell.
¶Lo.E. How deepe?
1970Par Thirty fadome.
¶beleeued.
¶Par I would I had any drumme of the enemies, I
¶would sweare I recouer'd it.
¶Par A drumme now of the enemies.
¶
Alarum within
¶All Cargo, cargo, cargo, villianda par corbo, cargo
¶Do not hide mine eyes.
1985If there be heere German or Dane, Low Dutch,
¶Italian, or French, let him speake to me,
¶thy tongue: Kerelybontosir, betake thee to thy faith, for
¶Par Oh.
¶Inter Oh pray, pray, pray,
¶Manka reuania dulche
¶And hoodwinkt as thou art, will leade thee on
¶To gather from thee. Haply thou mayst informe
¶Something to saue thy life.
¶Par O let me liue,
¶Which you will wonder at.
¶Inter But wilt thou faithfully?
¶Par If I do not, damne me.
2005Inter Acordo linta
¶Come on, thou are granted space.
Exit
¶
A short Alarum within
¶We haue caught the woodcocke, and will keepe him
(mufled
2010Till we do heare from them.
¶Sol Captaine I will.
¶Informe on that.
¶
Exit
¶
Enter Bertram, and the Maide called
¶Diana
¶Ber They told me that your name was Fontybell
2020Dia No my good Lord, Diana
¶And worth it with addition: but faire soule,
¶In your fine frame hath loue no qualitie?
¶If the quicke fire of youth light not your minde,
2025You are no Maiden but a monument
¶As you are now: for you are cold and sterne,
¶And now you should be as your mother was
¶Dia No:
¶My mother did but dutie, such (my Lord)
¶As you owe to your wife.
2035Ber No more a'that:
¶I was compell'd to her, but I loue thee
¶Do thee all rights of seruice.
¶You barely leaue our thornes to pricke our selues,
2045Dia Tis not the many oathes that makes the truth,
¶But the plaine single vow, that is vow'd true:
¶What is not holie, that we sweare not by,
2050I lou'd you deerely, would you beleeue my oathes,
¶When I did loue you ill? This ha's no holding
¶That I will worke against him. Therefore your oathes
¶Are words and poore conditions, but vnseal'd
2055At lest in my opinion.
¶Ber Change it, change it:
¶Be not so holy cruell: Loue is holie,
¶And my integritie ne're knew the crafts
¶That you do charge men with: Stand no more off,
¶Who then recouers. Say thou art mine, and euer
2065Ber Ile lend it thee my deere; but haue no power
¶To giue it from me.
¶Dia Will you not my Lord?
¶Bequeathed downe from manie Ancestors,
2070Which were the greatest obloquie i'th world,
¶In me to loose.
¶Bequeathed downe from many Ancestors,
2075Which were the greatest oblo quie i'th world,
¶Brings in the Champion honor on my part,
¶Ber Heere, take my Ring,
2080My house, mine honor, yea my life be thine,
¶And Ile be bid by thee.
¶ ber window:
¶Ile order take, my mother shall not heare.
2085Now will I charge you in the band of truth,
¶When you haue conquer'd my yet maiden-bed,
¶Remaine there but an houre, nor speake to mee:
¶When backe againe this Ring shall be deliuer'd:
2090And on your finger in the night, Ile put
¶Another Ring, that what in time proceeds,
¶May token to the future, our past deeds.
¶Adieu till then, then faile not: you haue wonne
¶A wife of me, though there my hope be done.
2095Ber A heauen on earth I haue won by wooing thee.
¶Di For which, liue long to thank both heauen & me,
¶You may so in the end.
¶My mother told me iust how he would woo,
2100Haue the like oathes: He had sworne to marrie me
¶When his wife's dead: therfore Ile lye with him
¶When I am buried. Since Frenchmen are so braide,
¶Marry that will, I liue and die a Maid:
Exit
¶
Enter the two French Captaines, and some two or three
¶Souldiours
¶Cap. G You haue not giuen him his mothers letter.
2110thing in't that stings his nature: for on the reading it,
¶he chang'd almost into another man.
¶Cap. G He has much worthy blame laid vpon him,
¶you shall let it dwell darkly with you.
¶the graue of it.
2120Cap. E Hee hath peruerted a young Gentlewoman
¶giuen her his monumentall Ring, and thinkes himselfe
2125Cap. G Now God delay our rebellion as we are our
¶selues, what things are we.
¶Cap. E Meerely our owne traitours. And as in the
¶peters of our vnlawfull intents? We shall not then haue
¶his company to night?
2135Cap. E Not till after midnight: for hee is dieted to
¶his houre.
¶Cap. G That approaches apace: I would gladly haue
¶him see his company anathomiz'd, that hee might take
2140he had set this counterfeit.
¶Cap. E We will not meddle with him till he come;
¶Warres?
2145Cap. E I heare there is an ouerture of peace.
¶trauaile higher, or returne againe into France?
2150gether of his councell.
¶deale of his act.
¶greefe: in fine, made a groane of her last breath, & now
¶which makes her storie true, euen to the poynt of her
¶death: her death it selfe, which could not be her office
¶to say, is come: was faithfully confirm'd by the Rector
2165of the place.
¶Cap. E Hath the Count all this intelligence?
¶Cap. G I, and the particular confirmations, point
¶from point, to the full arming of the veritie.
2170this.
¶drowne our gaine in teares, the great dignitie that his
¶countred with a shame as ample.
¶Cap. G The webbe of our life, is of a mingled yarne,
¶good and ill together: our vertues would bee proud, if
2180paire if they were not cherish'd by our vertues.
¶
Enter a Messenger
¶How now? Where's your master?
2185morning for France. The Duke hath offered him Let-
¶ters of commendations to the King.
¶if they were more then they can commend.
¶
Enter Count Rossillion
¶i'st not after midnight?
2195haue congied with the Duke, done my adieu with his
¶die mother, I am returning, entertain'd my Conuoy, &
2200not ended yet.
¶morning your departure hence, it requires hast of your
¶Lordship.
2205to heare of it hereafter: but shall we haue this dialogue
¶betweene the Foole and the Soldiour. Come, bring
¶forth this counterfet module, ha's deceiu'd mee, like a
¶double-meaning Prophesier.
2210poore gallant knaue.
¶and what thinke you he hath confest?
2220Ber Nothing of me, ha's a?
¶to his face, if your Lordshippe be in't, as I beleeue you
¶are, you must haue the patience to heare it.
¶
Enter Parolles with his Interpreter
¶without em.
¶Cap Boblibindo chicurmurco
¶Int You are a mercifull Generall: Our Generall
¶Par And truly, as I hope to liue.
¶manders verie poore rogues, vpon my reputation and
¶credit, and as I hope to liue.
¶Par Do, Ile take the Sacrament on't, how & which
2245way you will: all's one to him.
¶that had the whole theoricke of warre in the knot of his
¶his sword cleane, nor beleeue he can haue euerie thing
¶in him, by wearing his apparrell neatly.
¶Cap. G He's very neere the truth in this.
¶Ber But I con him no thankes for't in the nature he
¶deliuers it.
¶Rogues are maruailous poore.
2265foot. What say you to that?
¶houre, I will tell true. Let me see, Spurioa hundred &
2270dred fiftie each: Mine owne Company, Chitopher, Vau-
2275selues to peeces.
¶Cap. G Nothing, but let him haue thankes. Demand
¶of him my condition: and what credite I haue with the
¶Duke.
¶him, whether one Captaine Dumainebee i'th Campe, a
¶Frenchman: what his reputation is with the Duke, what
¶to this? What do you know of it?
¶the intergatories. Demand them singly.
¶Int Do you know this Captaine Dumaine
2290Par I know him, a was a Botchers Prentize in Paris
¶from whence he was whipt for getting the Shrieues fool
¶with childe, a dumbe innocent that could not say him
¶nay.
¶Ber Nay, by your leaue hold your hands, though I
2295know his braines are forfeite to the next tile that fals.
¶Int Well, is this Captaine in the Duke of Florences
¶campe?
2300your Lord anon.
¶Int What is his reputation with the Duke?
¶Par The Duke knowes him for no other, but a poore
¶Officer of mine, and writ to mee this other day, to turne
¶him out a'th band. I thinke I haue his Letter in my poc-
2305ket.
¶or it is vpon a file with the Dukes other Letters, in my
¶Tent.
¶Par I do not know if it be it or no.
¶Ber Our Interpreter do's it well.
¶Cap. G Excellently.
¶Int Dian, the Counts a foole, and full of gold
¶uertisement to a proper maide in Florence, one Diana to
¶sir put it vp againe.
¶behalfe of the maid: for I knew the young Count to be a
¶nity, and deuours vp all the fry it finds.
¶
Int Let When he sweares oathes, bid him drop gold, and
¶ take it¶Halfe won is match well made, match and well make it2330He nere payes after-debts, take it before¶Men are to mell with, boyes are not to kis
¶For count of this, the Counts a Foole I know it¶Who payes before, but not when he does owe it2335Thine as he vow'd to thee in thine eare,¶Parolles_
¶rime in's forehead.
¶Ber I could endure any thing before but a Cat, and
¶now he's a Cat to me.
¶be faine to hang you.
¶dye, but that my offences beeing many, I would repent
2350freely: therefore once more to this Captaine Dumaine
¶you haue answer'd to his reputation with the Duke, and
¶to his valour. What is his honestie?
2355not keeping of oaths, in breaking em he is stronger then
¶does little harme, saue to his bed-cloathes about him:
2360but they know his conditions, and lay him in straw. I
¶Cap. G I begin to loue him for this.
¶vpon him for me, he's more and more a Cat.
¶lish Tragedians: to belye him I will not, and more of his
¶the honour to be the Officer at a place there called Mile-
¶end, to instruct for the doubling of files. I would doe the
¶man what honour I can, but of this I am not certaine.
2375raritie redeemes him.
¶Int His qualities being at this poore price, I neede
¶not to aske you, if Gold will corrupt him to reuolt.
2380his saluation, the inheritance of it, and cut th' intaile from
¶tually.
¶Int What's his Brother, the other Captain Dumain
2385Int What's he?
¶euill. He excels his Brother for a coward, yet his Brother
2390runnes any Lackey; marrie in comming on, hee ha's the
¶Crampe.
¶the Florentine.
¶pleasure.
¶Par Ile no more drumming, a plague of all drummes,
¶bush where I was taken?
2405ports of men very nobly held, can serue the world for
¶man, off with his head.
2410friends:
¶So, looke about you, know you any heere?
¶Count Good morrow noble Captaine.
2415Lo. E Captain, what greeting will you to my Lord
¶Lafew I am for France
¶Cap. G Good Captaine will you giue me a Copy of
¶the sonnet you writ to Dianain behalfe of the Count
2420it of you, but far you well.
Exeunt
¶that has a knot on't yet.
¶Inter If you could finde out a Countrie where but
¶might begin an impudent Nation. Fare yee well sir, I
Exit
¶Par Yet am I thankfull: if my heart were great
¶'Twould burst at this: Captaine Ile be no more,
¶As Captaine shall. Simply the thing I am
¶Shall make me liue: who knowes himselfe a braggart
¶There's place and meanes for euery man aliue.
¶Ile after them.
Exit
¶
Enter Hellen, Widdow, and Diana
2440Hel That you may well perceiue I haue not
¶ wrong'd you,
¶Ere I can perfect mine intents, to kneele.
2445Time was, I did him a desired office
¶Deere almost as his life, which gratitude
¶Through flintie Tartars bosome would peepe forth,
¶And answer thankes. I duly am inform'd,
¶His grace is at Marcellae to which place
2450We haue conuenient conuoy: you must know
¶My husband hies him home, where heauen ayding,
¶And by the leaue of my good Lord the King,
¶Wee'l be before our welcome.
2455Wid Gentle Madam,
¶Your busines was more welcome.
¶Euer a friend, whose thoughts more truly labour
2460To recompence your loue: Doubt not but heauen
¶Hath brought me vp to be your daughters dower,
¶As it hath fated her to be my motiue
¶With what it loathes, for that which is away,
¶But more of this heereafter: you Diana
2470Something in my behalfe.
¶Go with your impositions, I am yours
¶Vpon your will to suffer.
¶Hel Yet I pray you:
2475But with the word the time will bring on summer,
¶When Briars shall haue leaues as well as thornes,
¶Our Wagon is prepar'd, and time reuiues vs,
¶All's well that ends well, still the fines the Crowne;
2480What ere the course, the end is the renowne.
Exeunt
¶
Enter Clowne, old Lady, and Lafew
¶made all the vnbak'd and dowy youth of a nation in his
2485colour: your daughter-in-law had beene aliue at this
¶houre, and your sonne heere at home, more aduanc'd
¶by the King, then by that red-tail'd humble Bee I speak
¶of.
¶La I would I had not knowne him, it was the death
2490of the most vertuous gentlewoman, that euer Nature
¶not haue owed her a more rooted loue.
¶Laf Twas a good Lady, 'twas a good Lady. Wee
¶ther hearbe.
¶sallet, or rather the hearbe of grace.
2500hearbes.
¶much skill in grace.
¶or a foole?
¶mans.
¶seruice.
¶her seruice.
¶and foole.
¶Laf No, no, no.
¶great a prince as you are.
¶mie is more hotter in France then there.
¶Laf What prince is that?
¶him still.
¶bilitie remaine in's Court. I am for the house with the
¶narrow gate, which I take to be too little for pompe to
¶nie will be too chill and tender, and theyle bee for the
2535flowrie way that leads to the broad gate, and the great
¶fire.
¶Laf Go thy waies, I begin to bee a wearie of thee,
¶with thee. Go thy wayes, let my horses be wel look'd
2540too, without any trickes.
¶Iades trickes, which are their owne right by the law of
¶Nature.
exit
¶much sport out of him, by his authoritie hee remaines
¶and indeede he has no pace, but runnes where he will.
2550to tell you, since I heard of the good Ladies death, and
¶that my Lord your sonne was vpon his returne home. I
¶my daughter, which in the minoritie of them both, his
¶your sonne, there is no fitter matter. How do's your
¶Ladyship like it?
2560it happily effected.
¶able bodie as when he number'd thirty, a will be heere
¶ligence hath seldome fail'd.
¶die. I haue letters that my sonne will be heere to night:
¶they meete together.
¶Laf Madam, I was thinking with what manners I
2570might safely be admitted.
¶ledge.
¶Laf Ladie, of that I haue made a bold charter, but
¶I thanke my God, it holds yet.
2575
Enter Clowne
¶der't or no, the Veluet knowes, but 'tis a goodly patch
¶of Veluet, his left cheeke is a cheeke of two pile and a
2580halfe, but his right cheeke is worne bare.
¶Or a noble scarre, is a good liu'rie of honor,
¶So belike is that.
¶Clo But it is your carbinado'd face.
¶your sonne I pray you, I long to talke
¶With the yong noble souldier.
¶Clowne 'Faith there's a dozen of em, with delicate
¶fine hats, and most courteous feathers, which bow the
2590head, and nod at euerie man.
¶
Exeunt
¶
Actus Quintus
¶
Enter Hellen, Widdow, and Diana, with
¶two Attendants
¶But since you haue made the daies and nights as one,
¶To weare your gentle limbes in my affayres,
¶Be bold you do so grow in my requitall,
2600As nothing can vnroote you. In happie time,
¶
Enter a gentle Astringer
¶This man may helpe me to his Maiesties eare,
¶Gent And you.
2610Which lay nice manners by, I put you to
¶The vse of your owne vertues, for the which
¶I shall continue thankefull.
¶Gent What's your will?
2615To giue this poore petition to the King,
¶And ayde me with that store of power you haue
¶To come into his presence.
¶Gen The Kings not heere.
2620Gen Not indeed,
¶Then is his vse.
¶Hel All's well that ends well yet,
¶I do beseech you, whither is he gone?
¶Whither I am going.
2630Since you are like to see the King before me,
¶Commend the paper to his gracious hand,
¶But rather make you thanke your paines for it,
¶I will come after you with what good speede
2635Our meanes will make vs meanes.
¶Gent This Ile do for you.
¶prouide.
2640
Enter Clowne and Parrolles
¶ter, I haue ere now sir beene better knowne to you, when
¶I haue held familiaritie with fresher cloathes: but I am
¶eate no Fish of Fortunes butt'ring. Prethee alow the
¶winde.
¶but by a Metaphor.
¶further.
¶comes himselfe.
¶
Enter Lafew
¶Cat, but not a Muscat, that ha's falne into the vncleane
¶and leaue him to your Lordship.
¶ly scratch'd.
¶Laf And what would you haue me to doe? 'Tis too
2670late to paire her nailes now. Wherein haue you played
¶of her selfe is a good Lady, and would not haue knaues
¶thriue long vnder? There's a Cardecue for you: Let the
¶Iustices make you and fortune friends; I am for other
¶word,
¶ha't, saue your word.
2680Par My name my good Lord is Parrolles
¶sion, giue me your hand: How does your drumme?
¶mee.
¶for you did bring me out.
¶at once both the office of God and the diuel: one brings
2690thee in grace, and the other brings thee out. The Kings
¶comming I know by his Trumpets. Sirrah, inquire fur-
¶ther after me, I had talke of you last night, though you
¶are a foole and a knaue, you shall eate, go too, follow.
2695
Flourish. Enter King, old Lady, Lafew, the two French
¶Lords, with attendants
¶Was made much poorer by it: but your sonne,
¶As mad in folly, lack'd the sence to know
2700Her estimation home.
¶Naturall rebellion, done i'th blade of youth,
2705Ore-beares it, and burnes on.
¶Kin My honour'd Lady,
¶I haue forgiuen and forgotten all,
¶Though my reuenges were high bent vpon him,
¶And watch'd the time to shoote.
¶But first I begge my pardon: the yong Lord
¶Did to his Maiesty, his Mother, and his Ladie,
¶Offence of mighty note; but to himselfe
¶Humbly call'd Mistris.
2720Makes the remembrance deere. Well, call him hither,
¶All repetition: Let him not aske our pardon,
¶The nature of his great offence is dead,
¶And deeper then obliuion, we do burie
2725Th' incensing reliques of it. Let him approach
¶A stranger, no offender; and informe him
¶So 'tis our will he should.
2730Haue you spoke?
¶Laf All that he is, hath reference to your Highnes.
¶me, that sets him high in fame.
¶
Enter Count Bertram
2735Laf He lookes well on't.
¶In me at once: But to the brightest beames
2740The time is faire againe.
¶Ber My high repented blames
¶Deere Soueraigne pardon to me.
¶Kin All is whole,
¶Not one word more of the consumed time,
2745Let's take the instant by the forward top:
¶For we are old, and on our quick'st decrees
¶Steales, ere we can effect them. You remember
¶The daughter of this Lord?
¶I stucke my choice vpon her, ere my heart
¶Durst make too bold a herauld of my tongue:
2755Which warpt the line, of euerie other fauour,
¶Extended or contracted all proportions
¶To a most hideous obiect. Thence it came,
2760Since I haue lost, haue lou'd; was in mine eye
¶The dust that did offend it.
¶Kin Well excus'd:
¶From the great compt: but loue that comes too late,
¶Crying, that's good that's gone: Our rash faults,
¶Make triuiall price of serious things we haue,
¶Not knowing them, vntill we know their graue.
¶Our owne loue waking, cries to see what's don,e
¶Be this sweet Helensknell, and now forget her.
2775Send forth your amorous token for faire Maudlin
¶That she may quickly come. By my old beard,
¶And eu'rie haire that's on't, Helenthat's dead
¶The last that ere I tooke her leaue at Court,
¶I saw vpon her finger.
¶Ber Hers it was not.
¶This Ring was mine, and when I gaue it Hellen
¶I bad her if her fortunes euer stoode
¶I would releeue her. Had you that craft to reaue her
¶Ber My gracious Soueraigne,
¶The ring was neuer hers.
¶OldLa Sonne, on my life
¶At her liues rate.
¶In Florence was it from a casement throwne mee,
2805Wrap'd in a paper, which contain'd the name
¶Of her that threw it: Noble she was, and thought
¶To mine owne fortune, and inform'd her fully,
¶Receiue the Ring againe.
¶That knowes the tinct and multiplying med'cine,
¶Then I haue in this Ring. 'Twas mine, 'twas Helens
¶Who euer gaue it you: then if you know
¶That you are well acquainted with your selfe,
2820You got it from her. She call'd the Saints to suretie,
¶That she would neuer put it from her finger,
¶Where you haue neuer come: or sent it vs
¶And mak'st connecturall feares to come into me,
2830And yet I know not, thou didst hate her deadly,
¶Her eyes my selfe, could win me to beleeue,
¶More then to see this Ring. Take him away,
¶My fore-past proofes, how ere the matter fall
2835Shall taze my feares of little vanitie,
¶Hauing vainly fear'd too little. Away with him,
¶Wee'l sift this matter further.
2840Proue that I husbanded her bed in Florence,
¶Where yet she neuer was.
¶
Enter a Gentleman
¶Gen Gracious Soueraigne.
2845Whether I haue beene too blame or no, I know not,
¶Here's a petition from a Florentine,
¶Who hath for foure or fiue remoues come short,
¶To tender it her selfe. I vndertooke it,
2850Of the poore suppliant, who by this I know
¶In a sweet verball breefe, it did concerne
2855
A Letter
¶Vpon his many protestations to marrie mee when his wife was¶ sillion a Widdower, his vowes are forfeited to mee, and my¶ honors payed to him. Hee stole from Florence, taking no2860 leaue, and I follow him to his Countrey for Iustice Grant¶ rishes and a poore Maid is vndone¶Diana Capilet.
2865for this. Ile none of him.
¶Kin The heauens haue thought well on thee Lafew
¶Go speedily, and bring againe the Count.
¶
Enter Bertram
2870I am a-feard the life of Hellen(Ladie)
¶Was fowly snatcht.
2875Yet you desire to marry. What woman's that?
¶
Enter Widdow, Diana, and Parrolles
¶Dia I am my Lord a wretched Florentine,
¶Deriued from the ancient Capilet,
2880And therefore know how farre I may be pittied.
¶Both suffer vnder this complaint we bring,
2885men?
¶Ber My Lord, I neither can nor will denie,
¶But that I know them, do they charge me further?
¶Ber She's none of mine my Lord.
¶You giue away this hand, and that is mine,
¶You giue away heauens vowes, and those are mine:
¶You giue away my selfe, which is knowne mine:
¶For I by vow am so embodied yours,
¶Either both or none.
¶ter, you are no husband for her.
2900Whom sometime I haue laugh'd with: Let your highnes
¶Lay a more noble thought vpon mine honour,
¶Then for to thinke that I would sinke it heere.
¶Kin Sir for my thoughts, you haue them il to friend,
¶Till your deeds gaine them fairer: proue your honor,
2905Then in my thought it lies.
¶Dian Good my Lord,
¶Aske him vpon his oath, if hee do's thinke
¶He had not my virginity.
2910Ber She's impudent my Lord,
¶And was a common gamester to the Campe.
¶He might haue bought me at a common price.
¶Do not beleeue him. O behold this Ring,
¶Did lacke a Paralell: yet for all that
¶He gaue it to a Commoner a'th Campe
¶If I be one.
¶Hath it beene owed and worne. This is his wife,
¶That Ring's a thousand proofes.
¶Dia I did my Lord, but loath am to produce
¶So bad an instrument, his names Parrolles
¶Kin Finde him, and bring him hether.
2930Ros What of him:
¶Am I, or that or this for what he'l vtter,
2935That will speake any thing.
¶Kin She hath that Ring of yours.
¶And boorded her i'th wanton way of youth:
¶She knew her distance, and did angle for mee,
¶As all impediments in fancies course
¶Are motiues of more fancie, and in fine,
¶Her insuite comming with her moderne grace,
¶Subdu'd me to her rate, she got the Ring,
2945And I had that which any inferiour might
¶At Market price haue bought.
¶May iustly dyet me. I pray you yet,
¶Send for your Ring, I will returne it home,
¶And giue me mine againe.
¶Ros I haue it not.
¶Kin What Ring was yours I pray you?
¶Kin Know you this Ring, this Ring was his of late.
¶Dia And this was it I gaue him being a bed.
¶Out of a Casement.
¶Is this the man you speake of?
¶Dia I, my Lord.
¶Which on your iust proceeding, Ile keepe off,
¶By him and by this woman heere, what know you?
2970honourable Gentleman. Trickes hee hath had in him,
¶which Gentlemen haue.
¶woman?
2975Kin How I pray you?
¶Kin How is that?
2980uocall Companion is this?
¶mand.
¶Laf Hee's a good drumme my Lord, but a naughtie
¶Orator.
2990deede he was madde for her, and talkt of Sathan, and of
¶Limbo, and of Furies, and I know not what: yet I was in
¶that credit with them at that time, that I knewe of their
¶going to bed, and of other motions, as promising her
¶marriage, and things which would deriue mee ill will to
¶say they are maried, but thou art too fine in thy euidence,
¶Dia I my good Lord.
3000Kin Where did you buy it? Or who gaue it you?
¶Dia It was not giuen me, nor I did not buy it.
¶Kin Who lent it you?
¶Dia It was not lent me neither.
¶Kin Where did you finde it then?
3005Dia I found it not.
¶How could you giue it him?
¶Dia I neuer gaue it him.
3010off and on at pleasure.
¶Dia It might be yours or hers for ought I know.
¶Kin Take her away, I do not like her now,
¶To prison with her: and away with him,
¶Thou diest within this houre.
¶Dia Ile neuer tell you.
¶Kin Take her away.
¶Dia Ile put in baile my liedge.
¶Dia By Ioue if euer I knew man 'twas you.
¶He knowes I am no Maid, and hee'l sweare too't:
3025Ile sweare I am a Maid, and he knowes not.
¶Great King I am no strumpet, by my life,
¶I am either Maid, or else this old mans wife.
3030The Ieweller that owes the Ring is sent for,
¶Who hath abus'd me as he knowes himselfe,
¶Though yet he neuer harm'd me, heere I quit him.
¶He knowes himselfe my bed he hath defil'd,
3035And at that time he got his wife with childe:
¶So there's my riddle, one that's dead is quicke,
¶And now behold the meaning.
¶
Enter Hellen and Widdow
¶Beguiles the truer Office of mine eyes?
¶Is't reall that I see?
¶Hel No my good Lord,
3045The name, and not the thing.
¶Ros Both, both, O pardon.
¶Hel Oh my good Lord, when I was like this Maid,
¶I found you wondrous kinde, there is your Ring,
¶And looke you, heeres your letter: this it sayes,
3050When from my finger you can get this Ring,
¶And is by me with childe, &c. This is done,
¶Will you be mine now you are doubly wonne?
¶Ile loue her dearely, euer, euer dearly.
3055Hel If it appeare not plaine, and proue vntrue,
¶Deadly diuorce step betweene me and you.
¶O my deere mother do I see you liuing?
¶Good Tom Drumme lend me a handkercher.
3060So I thanke thee, waite on me home, Ile make sport with
¶To make the euen truth in pleasure flow:
¶
Flourish
¶THe Kings a Begger, now the Play is done
¶All is well ended, if this suite be wonne
¶Ours be your patience then, and yours our parts
¶Your gentle hands lend vs, and take our hearts
Exeunt omn.
¶
FINIS.
