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  • Title: All's Well That Ends Well (Folio 1, 1623)
  • Editors: Andrew Griffin, Helen Ostovich
  • ISBN: 978-1-55058-432-5

    Copyright Internet Shakespeare Editions. This text may be freely used for educational, non-proift purposes; for all other uses contact the Coordinating Editor.
    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    Not Peer Reviewed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.
    1Actus primus. Scoena Prima
    Enter yong Bertram Count of Rossillion, his Mother, and
    Helena, Lord Lafew, all in blacke
    Mother
    5IN deliuering my sonne from me, I burie a se-
    cond husband.
    Ros And I in going Madam, weep ore my
    fathers death anew; but I must attend his maie-
    sties command, to whom I am now in Ward, euermore
    10in subiection.
    Laf You shall find of the King a husband Madame,
    you sir a father. He that so generally is at all times good,
    must of necessitie hold his vertue to you, whose worthi-
    nesse would stirre it vp where it wanted rather then lack
    15it where there is such abundance.
    Mo What hope is there of his Maiesties amendment?
    Laf He hath abandon'd his Phisitions Madam, vn-
    der whose practises he hath persecuted time with hope,
    and finds no other aduantage in the processe, but onely
    20the loosing of hope by time.
    Mo This yong Gentlewoman had a father, O that
    had, how sad a passage tis, whose skill was almost as
    great as his honestie, had it stretch'd so far, would haue
    made nature immortall, and death should haue play for
    25lacke of worke. Would for the Kings sake hee were li-
    uing, I thinke it would be the death of the Kings disease.
    Laf How call'd you the man you speake of Madam?
    Mo He was famous sir in his profession, and it was
    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
    was skilfull enough to haue liu'd stil, if knowledge could
    be set vp against mortallitie.
    Ros What is it (my good Lord) the King languishes
    35of?
    Laf A Fistula my Lord.
    Ros I heard not of it before.
    Laf I would it were not notorious. Was this Gen-
    tlewoman the Daughter of Gerard de Narbon
    40Mo His sole childe my Lord, and bequeathed to my
    ouer looking. I haue those hopes of her good, that her
    education promises her dispositions shee inherits, which
    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
    the better for their simplenesse; she deriues her honestie,
    and atcheeues her goodnesse.
    Lafew Your commendations Madam get from her
    teares.
    50Mo 'Tis the best brine a Maiden can season her praise
    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
    more least it be rather thought you affect a sorrow, then
    55to haue------
    Hell I doe affect a sorrow indeed, but I haue it too.
    Laf Moderate lamentation is the right of the dead,
    excessiue greefe the enemie to the liuing.
    Mo If the liuing be enemie to the greefe, the excesse
    60makes it soone mortall.
    Ros Maddam I desire your holie wishes.
    Laf How vnderstand we that?
    Mo Be thou blest Bertrame and succeed thy father
    In manners as in shape: thy blood and vertue
    65Contend for Empire in thee, and thy goodnesse
    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,
    'Tis an vnseason'd Courtier, good my Lord
    Aduise him.
    75Laf He cannot want the best
    That shall attend his loue.
    Mo Heauen blesse him: Farwell Bertram
    Ro The best wishes that can be forg'd in your thoghts
    be seruants to you: be comfortable to my mother, your
    80Mistris, and make much of her.
    Laf Farewell prettie Lady, you must hold the cre-
    dit of your father.
    Hell O were that all, I thinke not on my father,
    And these great teares grace his remembrance more
    85Then those I shed for him. What was he like?
    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,
    90That I should loue a bright particuler starre,
    And think to wed it, he is so aboue me
    In his bright radience and colaterall light,
    All's Well, that Ends Well 231
    Must I be comforted, not in his sphere;
    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
    To see him euerie houre to sit and draw
    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
    Must sanctifie his Reliques. Who comes heere?
    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,
    Yet these fixt euils sit so fit in him,
    That they take place, when Vertues steely bones
    Lookes bleake i'th cold wind: withall, full ofte we see
    110Cold wisedome waighting on superfluous follie.
    Par Saue you faire Queene.
    Hel And you Monarch.
    Par No.
    Hel And no.
    115Par Are you meditating on virginitie?
    Hel I: you haue some staine of souldier in you: Let
    mee aske you a question. Man is enemie to virginitie,
    how may we barracado it against him?
    Par Keepe him out.
    120Hel But he assailes, and our virginitie though vali-
    ant, in the defence yet is weak: vnfold to vs some war-like
    resistance.
    Par There is none: Man setting downe before you,
    will vndermine you, and blow you vp.
    125Hel Blesse our poore Virginity from vnderminers
    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
    130againe, with the breach your selues made, you lose your
    Citty. It is not politicke, in the Common-wealth of
    Nature, to preserue virginity. Losse of Virginitie, is
    rationall encrease, and there was neuer Virgin goe, till
    virginitie was first lost. That you were made of, is met-
    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.
    Hel I will stand for't a little, though therefore I die
    a Virgin.
    140Par There's little can bee saide in't, 'tis against the
    rule of Nature. To speake on the part of virginitie, is
    to accuse your Mothers; which is most infallible diso-
    bedience. He that hangs himselfe is a Virgin: Virgini-
    tie murthers it selfe, and should be buried in highwayes
    145out of all sanctified limit, as a desperate Offendresse a-
    gainst Nature. Virginitie breedes mites, much like a
    Cheese, consumes it selfe to the very payring, and so
    dies with feeding his owne stomacke. Besides, Virgini-
    tie is peeuish, proud, ydle, made of selfe-loue, which
    150is the most inhibited sinne in the Cannon. Keepe it not,
    you cannot choose but loose by't. Out with't: within
    ten yeare it will make it selfe two, which is a goodly in-
    crease, and the principall it selfe not much the worse.
    Away with't.
    155Hel How might one do sir, to loose it to her owne
    liking?
    Par Let mee see. Marry ill, to like him that ne're
    it likes. 'Tis a commodity wil lose the glosse with lying:
    The longer kept, the lesse worth: Off with't while 'tis
    160vendible. Answer the time of request, Virginitie like
    an olde Courtier, weares her cap out of fashion, richly
    suted, but vnsuteable, iust like the brooch & the tooth-
    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:
    170There shall your Master haue a thousand loues,
    A Mother, and a Mistresse, and a friend,
    A Phenix, Captaine, and an enemy,
    A guide, a Goddesse, and a Soueraigne,
    A Counsellor, a Traitoresse, and a Deare:
    175His humble ambition, proud humility:
    His iarring, concord: and his discord, dulcet:
    His faith, his sweet disaster: with a world
    Of pretty fond adoptious christendomes
    That blinking Cupid gossips. Now shall he:
    180I know not what he shall, God send him well,
    The Courts a learning place, and he is one.
    Par What one ifaith?
    Hel That I wish well, 'tis pitty.
    Par What's pitty?
    185Hel That wishing well had not a body in't,
    Which might be felt, that we the poorer borne,
    Whose baser starres do shut vs vp in wishes,
    Might vvith effects of them follow our friends,
    And shew what we alone must thinke, which neuer
    190Returnes vs thankes.
    Enter Page
    Pag Monsieur Parrolles
    My Lord cals for you.
    Par Little Hellenfarewell, if I can remember thee, I
    195will thinke of thee at Court.
    Hel Monsieur Parolles you were borne vnder a
    charitable starre.
    Par Vnder MarsI.
    Hel I especially thinke, vnder Mars
    200Par Why vnder Mars
    Hel The warres hath so kept you vnder, that you
    must needes be borne vnder Mars
    Par When he was predominant.
    Hel When he was retrograde I thinke rather.
    205Par Why thinke you so?
    Hel You go so much backward when you fight.
    Par That's for aduantage.
    Hel So is running away,
    When feare proposes the safetie:
    210But the composition that your valour and feare makes
    in you, is a vertue of a good wing, and I like the
    weare well.
    Paroll I am so full of businesses, I cannot answere
    thee acutely: I will returne perfect Courtier, in the
    215which my instruction shall serue to naturalize thee, so
    thou wilt be capeable of a Courtiers councell, and vn-
    derstand what aduice shall thrust vppon thee, else thou
    diest in thine vnthankfulnes, and thine ignorance makes
    thee away, farewell: When thou hast leysure, say thy
    220praiers: when thou hast none, remember thy Friends:
    V 2 Get
    232All's Well,that Ends Well
    Get thee a good husband, and vse him as he vses thee:
    So farewell.
    Hel Our remedies oft in our selues do lye,
    Which we ascribe to heauen: the fated skye
    225Giues vs free scope, onely doth backward pull
    Our slow designes, when we our selues are dull.
    What power is it, which mounts my loue so hye,
    That makes me see, and cannot feede mine eye?
    The mightiest space in fortune, Nature brings
    230To ioyne like, likes; and kisse like natiue things.
    Impossible be strange attempts to those
    That weigh their paines in sence, and do suppose
    What hath beene, cannot be. Who euer stroue
    To shew her merit, that did misse her loue?
    235(The Kings disease) my proiect may deceiue me,
    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.
    1.Lo.G So tis reported sir.
    King Nay tis most credible, we heere receiue it,
    245A certaintie vouch'd from our Cosin Austria
    With caution, that the Florentinewill moue vs
    For speedie ayde: wherein our deerest friend
    Preiudicates the businesse, and would seeme
    To haue vs make deniall.
    2501.Lo.G His loue and wisedome
    Approu'd so to your Maiesty, may pleade
    For amplest credence.
    King He hath arm'd our answer,
    And Florenceis deni'de before he comes:
    255Yet for our Gentlemen that meane to see
    The Tuscanseruice, freely haue they leaue
    To stand on either part.
    2.Lo.E It well may serue
    A nursserie to our Gentrie, who are sicke
    260For breathing, and exploit.
    King What's he comes heere.
    Enter Bertram, Lafew, and Parolles
    1.Lor.G It is the Count Rosignollmy good Lord,
    Yong Bertram
    265King Youth, thou bear'st thy Fathers face,
    Franke Nature rather curious then in hast
    Hath well compos'd thee: Thy Fathers morall parts
    Maist thou inherit too: Welcome to Paris
    Ber My thankes and dutie are your Maiesties.
    270Kin I would I had that corporall soundnesse now,
    As when thy father, and my selfe, in friendship
    First tride our souldiership: he did looke farre
    Into the seruice of the time, and was
    Discipled of the brauest. He lasted long,
    275But on vs both did haggish Age steale on,
    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:
    So like a Courtier, contempt nor bitternesse
    Were in his pride, or sharpnesse; if they were,
    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.
    295Ber His good remembrance sir
    Lies richer in your thoughts, then on his tombe:
    So in approofe liues not his Epitaph,
    As in your royall speech.
    King Would I were with him he would alwaies say,
    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
    On the Catastrophe and heele of pastime
    305When it was out: Let me not liue (quoth hee)
    After my flame lackes oyle, to be the snuffe
    Of yonger spirits, whose apprehensiue senses
    All but new things disdaine; whose iudgements are
    Meere fathers of their garments: whose constancies
    310Expire before their fashions: this he wish'd.
    I after him, do after him wish too:
    Since I nor wax nor honie can bring home,
    I quickly were dissolued from my hiue
    To giue some Labourers roome.
    315L2.E You'r loued Sir,
    They that least lend it you, shall lacke you first.
    Kin I fill a place I know't: how long ist Count
    Since the Physitian at your fathers died?
    He was much fam'd.
    320Ber Some six moneths since my Lord.
    Kin If he were liuing, I would try him yet.
    Lend me an arme: the rest haue worne me out
    With seuerall applications: Nature and sicknesse
    Debate it at their leisure. Welcome Count,
    325My sonne's no deerer.
    Ber Thanke your Maiesty. Exit
    Flourish
    Enter Countesse, Steward, and Clowne
    Coun I will now heare, what say you of this gentle-
    330woman.
    Ste Maddam the care I haue had to euen your con-
    tent, I wish might be found in the Kalender of my past
    endeuours, for then we wound our Modestie, and make
    foule the clearnesse of our deseruings, when of our selues
    335we publish them.
    Coun What doe's this knaue heere? Get you gone
    sirra: the complaints I haue heard of you I do not all be-
    leeue, 'tis my slownesse that I doe not: For I know you
    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.
    Coun Well sir.
    Clo No maddam,
    345'Tis not so well that I am poore, though manie
    of
    All's Well that Ends Well 233
    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?
    350Clo I doe beg your good will in this case.
    Cou In what case?
    Clo In Isbelscase and mine owne: seruice is no heri-
    tage, and I thinke I shall neuer haue the blessing of God,
    till I haue issue a my bodie: for they say barnes are bles-
    355sings.
    Cou Tell me thy reason why thou wilt marrie?
    Clo My poore bodie Madam requires it, I am driuen
    on by the flesh, and hee must needes goe that the diuell
    driues.
    360Cou Is this all your worships reason?
    Clo Faith Madam I haue other holie reasons, such as
    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.
    Cou Thy marriage sooner then thy wickednesse.
    Clo I am out a friends Madam, and I hope to haue
    friends for my wiues sake.
    370Cou Such friends are thine enemies knaue.
    Clo Y'are shallow Madam in great friends, for the
    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
    my flesh and blood; hee that cherishes my flesh and
    blood, loues my flesh and blood; he that loues my flesh
    and blood is my friend: ergo he that kisses my wife is my
    friend: if men could be contented to be what they are,
    380there were no feare in marriage, for yong Charbonthe
    Puritan, and old Poysamthe Papist, how somere their
    hearts are seuer'd in Religion, their heads are both one,
    they may ioule horns together like any Deare i'th Herd.
    Cou Wilt thou euer be a foule mouth'd and calum-
    385nious knaue?
    Clo A Prophet I Madam, and I speake the truth the
    next waie, for I the Ballad will repeate, which men full
    true shall finde, your marriage comes by destinie, your
    Cuckow sings by kinde.
    390Cou Get you gone sir, Ile talke with you more anon.
    Stew May it please you Madam, that hee bid Hellen
    come to you, of her I am to speake.
    Cou Sirra tell my gentlewoman I would speake with
    her, HellenI meane.
    395Clo Was this faire face the cause, quoth she,
    Why the Grecians sacked Troy
    Fond done, done, fond was this King Priamsioy,
    With that she sighed as she stood, bis
    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.
    Cou What, one good in tenne? you corrupt the song
    sirra.
    Clo One good woman in ten Madam, which is a pu-
    405rifying ath' song: would God would serue the world so
    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.
    Cou Youle begone sir knaue, and doe as I command
    you?
    Clo That man should be at womans command, and
    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-
    ing forsooth, the businesse is for Helen to come hither.
    Exit
    Cou Well now.
    420Stew I know Madam you loue your Gentlewoman
    intirely.
    Cou Faith I doe: her Father bequeath'd her to mee,
    and she her selfe without other aduantage, may lawful-
    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
    I thinke shee wisht mee, alone shee was, and did
    communicate to her selfe her owne words to her
    430owne eares, shee thought, I dare vowe for her, they
    toucht not anie stranger sence, her matter was, shee
    loued your Sonne; Fortune shee said was no god-
    desse, that had put such difference betwixt their two
    estates: Loue no god, that would not extend his might
    435onelie, where qualities were leuell, Queene of Vir-
    gins, that would suffer her poore Knight surpris'd
    without rescue in the first assault or ransome after-
    ward: This shee deliuer'd in the most bitter touch of
    sorrow that ere I heard Virgin exclaime in, which I held
    440my dutie speedily to acquaint you withall, sithence in
    the losse that may happen, it concernes you something
    to know it.
    Cou You haue discharg'd this honestlie, keepe 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
    leaue mee, stall this in your bosome, and I thanke
    you for your honest care: I will speake with you fur-
    ther anon. Exit Steward
    450Enter Hellen
    Old. Cou Euen so it vvas vvith me when I was yong:
    If euer vve are natures, these are ours, this thorne
    Doth to our Rose of youth righlie belong
    Our bloud to vs, this to our blood is borne,
    455It is the show, and seale of natures truth,
    Where loues strong passion is imprest in youth,
    By our remembrances of daies forgon,
    Such were our faults, or then we thought them none,
    Her eie is sicke on't, I obserue her now.
    460Hell What is your pleasure Madam?
    Ol. Cou You know HellenI am a mother to you.
    Hell Mine honorable Mistris.
    Ol. Cou Nay a mother, why not a mother? when I
    sed a mother
    465Me thought you saw a serpent, what's in mother,
    That you start at it? I say I am your mother,
    And put you in the Catalogue of those
    That were enwombed mine, 'tis often seene
    Adoption striues vvith nature, and choise breedes
    470A natiue slip to vs from forraine seedes:
    You nere opprest me with a mothers groane,
    Yet I expresse to you a mothers care,
    (Gods mercie maiden) dos it curd thy blood
    To say I am thy mother? vvhat's the matter,
    475That this distempered messenger of wet?
    V 3 The
    234All'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. Exeunt
    Actus Secundus
    Enter the King with diuers yong Lords, taking leaue for
    595the Florentine warre: Count, Rosse, and
    Parrolles. Florish Cornets
    King Farewell yong Lords, these warlike principles
    Doe not throw from you, and you my Lords farewell:
    Share the aduice betwixt you, if both gaine, all
    600The guift doth stretch it selfe as 'tis receiu'd,
    And is enough for both.
    Lord. G 'Tis our hope sir,
    After
    All's Well, that Ends Well 235
    After well entred souldiers, to returne
    And finde your grace in health.
    605King No, no, it cannot be; and yet my heart
    Will not confesse he owes the mallady
    That doth my life besiege: farwell yong Lords,
    Whether I liue or die, be you the sonnes
    Of worthy French men: let higher Italy
    610(Those bated that inherit but the fall
    Of the last Monarchy) see that you come
    Not to wooe honour, but to wed it, when
    The brauest questant shrinkes: finde what you seeke,
    That fame may cry you loud: I say farewell.
    615L. G Health at your bidding serue your Maiesty.
    King Those girles of Italy, take heed of them,
    They say our French, lacke language to deny
    If they demand: beware of being Captiues
    Before you serue.
    620Bo Our hearts receiue your warnings.
    King Farewell, come hether to me.
    1. Lo. G Oh my sweet Lord CyC you wil stay behind vs.
    Parr 'Tis not his fault the spark.
    2. Lo. E Oh 'tis braue warres.
    625Parr 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.
    630Rossill I shal stay here the for-horse to a smocke,
    Creeking my shooes on the plaine Masonry,
    Till honour be bought vp, and no sword worne
    But one to dance with: by heauen, Ile steale away.
    1. Lo. G There's honour in the theft.
    635Parr 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
    640Parr Noble Heroes my sword and yours are kinne,
    good sparkes and lustrous, a word good mettals. You
    shall finde in the Regiment of the Spinij, one Captaine
    Spuriohis sicatrice, with an Embleme of warre heere on
    his sinister cheeke; it was this very sword entrench'd it:
    645say to him I liue, and obserue his reports for me.
    Lo. G We shall noble Captaine.
    Parr Marsdoate on you for his nouices, what will
    ye doe?
    Ross. Stay the King.
    650Parr Vse a more spacious ceremonie to the Noble
    Lords, you haue restrain'd your selfe within the List of
    too cold an adieu: be more expressiue to them; for they
    weare themselues in the cap of the time, there do muster
    true gate; eat, speake, and moue vnder the influence of
    655the most receiu'd starre, and though the deuill leade the
    measure, such are to be followed: after them, and take a
    more dilated farewell.
    Ros And I will doe so.
    Parr Worthy fellowes, and like to prooue most si-
    660newie sword-men. Exeunt
    Enter Lafew
    L. Laf Pardon my Lord for mee and for my tidings.
    King Ile see thee to stand vp.
    L. Laf Then heres a man stands that has brought his (pardon,
    665I 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 pate
    And askt thee mercy for't.
    Laf Goodfaith a-crosse, but my good Lord 'tis thus,
    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
    With sprightly fire and motion, whose simple touch
    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?
    Laf Why doctor she: my Lord, there's one arriu'd,
    If you will see her: now by my faith and honour,
    If seriously I may conuay my thoughts
    685In this my light deliuerance, I haue spoke
    With one, that in her sexe, her yeeres, profession,
    Wisedome and constancy, hath amaz'd mee more
    Then I dare blame my weakenesse: will you see her?
    For that is her demand, and know her businesse?
    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.
    King Thus he his speciall nothing euer prologues.
    Laf Nay, come your waies.
    Enter Hellen
    700King This haste hath wings indeed.
    Laf Nay, come your waies,
    This is his Maiestie, say your minde to him,
    A Traitor you doe looke like, but such traitors
    His Maiesty seldome feares, I am CressedsVncle,
    705That dare leaue two together, far you well. Exit
    King Now faire one, do's your busines follow vs?
    Hel I my good Lord,
    Gerard de Narbonwas my father,
    In what he did professe, well found.
    710King I knew him.
    Hel The rather will I spare my praises towards him,
    Knowing him is enough: on's bed of death,
    Many receits he gaue me, chieflie one,
    Which as the dearest issue of his practice
    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,
    With all bound humblenesse.
    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
    From her inaydible estate: I say we must not
    So staine our iudgement, or corrupt our hope,
    730To prostitute our past-cure malladie
    To empericks, or to disseuer so
    Our great selfe and our credit, to esteeme
    A sencelesse helpe, when helpe past sence we deeme.
    Hel My
    236All's Well that Ends Well
    Hell My dutie then shall pay me for my paines:
    735I 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,
    740As 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:
    745He that of greatest workes is finisher,
    Oft does them by the weakest minister:
    So holy Writ, in babes hath iudgement showne,
    When Iudges haue bin babes; great flouds haue flowne
    From simple sources: and great Seas haue dried
    750When Miracles haue by the great'st beene denied.
    Oft expectation failes, and most oft there
    Where most it promises: and oft it hits,
    Where hope is coldest, and despaire most shifts.
    King I must not heare thee, fare thee wel kind maide,
    755Thy paines not vs'd, must by thy selfe be paid,
    Proffers not tooke, reape thanks for their reward.
    Hel Inspired Merit so by breath is bard,
    It is not so with him that all things knowes
    As 'tis with vs, that square our guesse by showes:
    760But most it is presumption in vs, when
    The help of heauen we count the act of men.
    Deare sir, to my endeauors giue consent,
    Of heauen, not me, make an experiment.
    I am not an Impostrue, that proclaime
    765My selfe against the leuill of mine aime,
    But know I thinke, and thinke I know most sure,
    My Art is not past power, nor you past cure.
    King Art thou so confident? Within what space
    Hop'st thou my cure?
    770Hel The greatest grace lending grace,
    Ere twice the horses of the sunne shall bring
    Their fiery torcher his diurnall ring,
    Ere twice in murke and occidentall dampe
    Moist Hesperushath quench'd her sleepy Lampe:
    775Or foure and twenty times the Pylots glasse
    Hath told the theeuish minutes, how they passe:
    What is infirme, from your sound parts shall flie,
    Health shall liue free, and sickenesse freely dye.
    King Vpon thy certainty and confidence,
    780What dar'st thou venter?
    Hell Taxe of impudence,
    A strumpets boldnesse, a divulged shame
    Traduc'd by odious ballads: my maidens name
    Seard otherwise, ne worse of worst extended
    785With vildest torture, let my life be ended.
    Kin Methinks in thee some blessed spirit doth speak
    His powerfull sound, within an organ weake:
    And what impossibility would slay
    In common sence, sence saues another way:
    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
    795Skill infinite, or monstrous desperate,
    Sweet practiser, thy Physicke I will try,
    That ministers thine owne death if I die.
    Hel If I breake time, or flinch in property
    Of what I spoke, vnpittied let me die,
    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.
    805Hel Then shalt thou giue me with thy kingly hand
    What husband in thy power I will command:
    Exempted be from me the arrogance
    To choose from forth the royall bloud of France,
    My low and humble name to propagate
    810With any branch or image of thy state:
    But such a one thy vassall, whom I know
    Is free for me to aske, thee to bestow.
    Kin Heere is my hand, the premises obseru'd,
    Thy will by my performance shall be seru'd:
    815So make the choice of thy owne time, for I
    Thy resolv'd Patient, on thee still relye:
    More should I question thee, and more I must,
    Though more to know, could not be more to trust:
    From whence thou cam'st, how tended on, but rest
    820Vnquestion'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
    825Lady Come on sir, I shall now put you to the height
    of your breeding.
    Clown I will shew my selfe highly fed, and lowly
    taught, I know my businesse is but to the Court.
    Lady To the Court, why what place make you spe-
    830ciall, when you put off that with such contempt, but to
    the Court?
    Clo Truly Madam, if God haue lent a man any man-
    ners, hee may easilie put it off at Court: hee that cannot
    make a legge, put off's cap, kisse his hand, and say no-
    835thing, has neither legge, hands, lippe, nor cap; and in-
    deed such a fellow, to say precisely, were not for the
    Court, but for me, I haue an answere will serue all men.
    Lady Marry that's a bountifull answere that fits all
    questions.
    840Clo It is like a Barbers chaire that fits all buttockes,
    the pin buttocke, the quatch-buttocke, the brawn but-
    tocke, or any buttocke.
    Lady Will your answere serue fit to all questions?
    Clo As fit as ten groats is for the hand of an Attur-
    845ney, as your French Crowne for your taffety punke, as
    Tibsrush for Tomsfore-finger, as a pancake for Shroue-
    tuesday, a Morris for May-day, as the naile to his hole,
    the Cuckold to his horne, as a scolding queane to a
    wrangling knaue, as the Nuns lip to the Friers mouth,
    850nay as the pudding to his skin.
    Lady Haue you, I say, an answere of such fitnesse for
    all questions?
    Clo From below your Duke, to beneath your Con-
    stable, it will fit any question.
    855Lady It must be an answere of most monstrous size,
    that must fit all demands.
    Clo But a triflle neither in good faith, if the learned
    should speake truth of it: heere it is, and all that belongs
    to't. Aske mee if I am a Courtier, it shall doe you no
    860harme to learne.
    Lady To be young againe if we could: I will bee a
    foole in question, hoping to bee the wiser by your an-
    swer.
    Lady
    All's Well that Ends Well 237
    La I pray you sir, are you a Courtier?
    865Clo 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
    870meate.
    Clo O Lord sir; nay put me too't, I warrant you.
    La You were lately whipt sir as I thinke.
    Clo O Lord sir, spare not me.
    La Doe you crie O Lord sir at your whipping, and
    875spare not me? Indeed your O Lord sir, is very sequent
    to your whipping: you would answere very well to a
    whipping if you were but bound too't.
    Clo I nere had worse lucke in my life in my O Lord
    sir: I see things may serue long, but not serue euer.
    880La I play the noble huswife with the time, to enter-
    taine it so merrily with a foole.
    Clo O Lord sir, why there't serues well agen.
    La And end sir to your businesse: giue Hellenthis,
    And vrge her to a present answer backe,
    885Commend me to my kinsmen, and my sonne,
    This is not much.
    Clo Not much commendation to them.
    La Not much imployement for you, you vnder-
    stand me.
    890Clo Most fruitfully, I am there, before my legges.
    La Hast you agen. Exeunt
    Enter Count, Lafew, and Parolles
    Ol. Laf They say miracles are past, and we haue our
    Philosophicall persons, to make moderne and familiar
    895things supernaturall and causelesse. Hence is it, that we
    make trifles of terrours, ensconcing our selues into see-
    ming knowledge, when we should submit our selues to
    an vnknowne feare.
    Par Why 'tis the rarest argument of wonder, that
    900hath shot out in our latter times.
    Ros And so 'tis.
    Ol. Laf To be relinquisht of the Artists.
    Par So I say both of Galen and Paracelsus
    Ol. Laf Of all the learned and authenticke fellowes.
    905Par 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------
    910Ol. Laf Vncertaine life, and sure death.
    Par Iust, you say well: so would I haue said.
    Ol. Laf I may truly say, it is a noueltie to the world.
    Par It is indeede if you will haue it in shewing, you
    shall reade it in what do ye call there.
    915Ol. Laf A shewing of a heauenly effect in an earth-
    ly Actor.
    Par That's it, I would haue said, the verie same.
    Ol. Laf Why your Dolphin is not lustier: fore mee
    I speake in respect---
    920Par Nay 'tis strange, 'tis very straunge, that is the
    breefe and the tedious of it, and he's of a most facineri-
    ous spirit, that will not acknowledge it to be the---
    Ol.Laf Very hand of heauen.
    Par I, so I say.
    925Ol.Laf In a most weake---
    Par And debile minister great power, great tran-
    cendence, which should indeede giue vs a further vse to
    be made, then alone the recou'ry of the king, as to bee
    Old Laf Generally thankfull.
    930Enter King, Hellen, and attendants
    Par I would haue said it, you say well: heere comes
    the King.
    Ol. Laf Lustique, as the Dutchman saies: Ile like a
    maide the Better whil'st I haue a tooth in my head: why
    935he'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,
    940And with this healthfull hand whose banisht sence
    Thou hast repeal'd, a second time receyue
    The confirmation of my promis'd guift,
    Which but attends thy naming.
    Enter 3 or 4 Lords
    945Faire Maide send forth thine eye, this youthfull parcell
    Of Noble Batchellors, stand at my bestowing,
    Ore whom both Soueraigne power, and fathers voice
    I haue to vse; thy franke election make,
    Thou hast power to choose, and they none to forsake.
    950Hel To each of you, one faire and vertuous Mistris;
    Fall when loue please, marry to each but one.
    Old Laf I'de giue bay curtall, and his furniture
    My mouth no more were broken then these boyes,
    And writ as little beard.
    955King Peruse them well:
    Not one of those, but had a Noble father.
    She addresses her to a Lord
    Hel Gentlemen, heauen hath through me, restor'd
    the king to health.
    960All We vnderstand it, and thanke heauen for you.
    Hel I am a simple Maide, and therein wealthiest
    That I protest, I simply am a Maide:
    Please it your Maiestie, I haue done already:
    The blushes in my cheekes thus whisper mee,
    965We 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.
    970Hel Now Dian from thy Altar do I fly,
    And to imperiall loue, that God most high
    Do my sighes streame: Sir, wil you heare my suite?
    1. Lo And grant it.
    Hel Thankes sir, all the rest is mute.
    975Ol. Laf I had rather be in this choise, then throw
    Ames-ace for my life.
    Hel The honor sir that flames in your faire eyes,
    Before I speake too threatningly replies:
    Loue make your fortunes twentie times aboue
    980Her that so vvishes, and her humble loue.
    2. Lo No better if you please.
    Hel My wish receiue,
    Which great loue grant, and so I take my leaue.
    Ol. Laf Do all they denie her? And they were sons
    985of mine, I'de haue them whip'd, or I would send them
    to'th Turke to make Eunuches of.
    Hel Be not afraid that I your hand should take,
    Ile neuer do you wrong for your owne sake:
    Blessing vpon your vowes, and in your bed
    990Finde fairer fortune, if you euer wed.
    Old Laf These boyes are boyes of Ice, they'le none
    haue
    238All's Well that Ends Well
    haue heere: sure they are bastards to the English, the
    French nere got em.
    La You are too young, too happie, and too good
    995To make your selfe a sonne out of my blood.
    4.Lord Faire one, I thinke not so.
    Ol. Lord There's one grape yet, I am sure thy father
    drunke wine. But if thou be'st not an asse, I am a youth
    of fourteene: I haue knowne thee already.
    1000Hel I dare not say I take you, but I giue
    Me and my seruice, euer whilst I liue
    Into your guiding power: This is the man.
    King Why then young Bertram take her shee's thy
    wife.
    1005Ber My wife my Leige? I shal beseech your highnes
    In such a busines, giue me leaue to vse
    The helpe of mine owne eies.
    King Know'st thou not Bertram what shee ha's
    done for mee?
    1010Ber Yes my good Lord, but neuer hope to know
    why I should marrie her.
    King Thou know'st shee ha's rais'd me from my sick-
    ly bed.
    Ber But followes it my Lord, to bring me downe
    1015Must answer for your raising? I knowe her well:
    Shee had her breeding at my fathers charge:
    A poore Physitians daughter my wife? Disdaine
    Rather corrupt me euer.
    King Tis onely title thou disdainst in her, the which
    1020I can build vp: strange is it that our bloods
    Of colour, waight, and heat, pour'd all together,
    Would quite confound distinction: yet stands off
    In differences so mightie. If she bee
    All that is vertuous (saue what thou dislik'st)
    1025A poore Phisitians daughter, thou dislik'st
    Of vertue for the name: but doe not so:
    From lowest place, whence vertuous things proceed,
    The place is dignified by th' doers deede.
    Where great additions swell's, and vertue none,
    1030It 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:
    1035And 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 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.
    Of honour'd bones indeed, what should be saide?
    If thou canst like this creature, as a maide,
    1045I can create the rest: Vertue, and shee
    Is her owne dower: Honour and wealth, from mee.
    Ber I cannot loue her, nor will striue to doo't.
    King Thou wrong'st thy selfe, if thou shold'st striue
    to choose.
    1050Hel That you are well restor'd my Lord, I'me glad:
    Let the rest go.
    King My Honor's at the stake, which to defeate
    I must produce my power. Heere, take her hand,
    Proud scornfull boy, vnworthie this good gift,
    1055That dost in vile misprision shackle vp
    My loue, and her desert: that canst not dreame,
    We poizing vs in her defectiue scale,
    Shall weigh thee to the beame: That wilt not know,
    It is in Vs to plant thine Honour, where
    1060We please to haue it grow. Checke thy contempt:
    Obey Our will, which trauailes in thy good:
    Beleeue not thy disdaine, but presentlie
    Do thine owne fortunes that obedient right
    Which both thy dutie owes, and Our power claimes,
    1065Or I will throw thee from my care for euer
    Into the staggers, and the carelesse lapse
    Of youth and ignorance: both my reuenge and hate
    Loosing vpon thee, in the name of iustice,
    Without all termes of pittie. Speake, thine answer.
    1070Ber Pardon my gracious Lord: for I submit
    My fancie to your eies, when I consider
    What great creation, and what dole of honour
    Flies where you bid it: I finde that she which late
    Was in my Nobler thoughts, most base: is now
    1075The praised of the King, who so ennobled,
    Is as 'twere borne so.
    King Take her by the hand,
    And tell her she is thine: to whom I promise
    A counterpoize: If not to thy estate,
    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,
    1085And be perform'd to night: the solemne Feast
    Shall more attend vpon the coming space,
    Expecting absent friends. As thou lou'st her,
    Thy loue's to me Religious: else, do's erre. Exeunt
    Parolles and Lafew stay behind, commen-
    1090ting of this wedding
    Laf Do you heare Monsieur? A word with you.
    Par Your pleasure sir.
    Laf Your Lord and Master did well to make his re-
    cantation.
    1095Par Recantation? My Lord? my Master?
    Laf I: Is it not a Language I speake?
    Par A most harsh one, and not to bee vnderstoode
    without bloudie succeeding. My Master?
    Laf Are you Companion to the Count Rosillion
    1100Par To any Count, to all Counts: to what is man.
    Laf To what is Counts man: Counts maister is of
    another stile.
    Par You are too old sir: Let it satisfie you, you are
    too old.
    1105Laf I must tell thee sirrah, I write Man: to which
    title age cannot bring thee.
    Par What I dare too well do, I dare not do.
    Laf I did thinke thee for two ordinaries: to bee a
    prettie wise fellow, thou didst make tollerable vent of
    1110thy trauell, it might passe: yet the scarffes and the ban-
    nerets about thee, did manifoldlie disswade me from be-
    leeuing thee a vessell of too great a burthen. I haue now
    found thee, when I loose thee againe, I care not: yet art
    thou good for nothing but taking vp, and that th'ourt
    1115scarce worth.
    Par Hadst thou not the priuiledge of Antiquity vp-
    on thee.
    Laf Do not plundge thy selfe to farre in anger, least
    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.
    Par My Lord, you giue me most egregious indignity.
    Laf
    All's Well, that Ends Well 239
    Laf I with all my heart, and thou art worthy of it.
    1125Par I haue not my Lord deseru'd it.
    Laf Yes good faith, eu'ry dramme of it, and I will
    not bate thee a scruple.
    Par Well, I shall be wiser.
    Laf Eu'n as soone as thou can'st, for thou hast to pull
    1130at a smacke a'th contrarie. If euer thou bee'st bound
    in thy skarfe and beaten, thou shall finde what it is to be
    proud of thy bondage, I haue a desire to holde my ac-
    quaintance with thee, or rather my knowledge, that I
    may say in the default, he is a man I know.
    1135Par My Lord you do me most insupportable vexati-
    on.
    Laf I would it were hell paines for thy sake, and my
    poore doing eternall: for doing I am past, as I will by
    thee, in what motion age will giue me leaue. Exit
    1140Par Well, thou hast a sonne shall take this disgrace
    off me; scuruy, old, filthy, scuruy Lord: Well, I must
    be patient, there is no fettering of authority. Ile beate
    him (by my life) if I can meete him with any 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
    Laf Sirra, your Lord and masters married, there's
    newes for you: you haue a new Mistris.
    1150Par I most vnfainedly beseech your Lordshippe to
    make some reseruation of your wrongs. He is my good
    Lord, whom I serue aboue is my master.
    Laf Who? God.
    Par I sir.
    1155Laf The deuill it is, that's thy master. Why dooest
    thou garter vp thy armes a this fashion? Dost make hose
    of thy sleeues? Do other seruants so? Thou wert best set
    thy lower part where thy nose stands. By mine Honor,
    if I were but two houres yonger, I'de beate thee: mee-
    1160think'st thou art a generall offence, and euery man shold
    beate thee: I thinke thou wast created for men to breath
    themselues vpon thee.
    Par This is hard and vndeserued measure my Lord.
    Laf Go too sir, you were beaten in Italyfor picking
    1165a kernell out of a Pomgranat, you are a vagabond, and
    no true traueller: you are more sawcie with Lordes and
    honourable personages, then the Commission of your
    birth and vertue giues you Heraldry. You are not worth
    another word, else I'de call you knaue. I leaue you.
    1170Exit
    Enter Count Rossillion
    Par Good, very good, it is so then: good, very
    good, let it be conceal'd awhile.
    Ros Vndone, and forfeited to cares for euer.
    1175Par What's the matter sweet-heart?
    Rossill Although before the solemne Priest I haue
    sworne, I will not bed her.
    Par What? what sweet heart?
    Ros O my 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.
    Ros There's letters from my mother: What th' im-
    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
    1190Which should sustaine the bound and high curuet
    Of Marsesfierie steed: to other Regions,
    Franceis a stable, wee that dwell in't Iades,
    Therefore too'th warre.
    Ros It shall be so, Ile send her to my house,
    1195Acquaint my mother with my hate to her,
    And wherefore I am fled: Write to the King
    That which I durst not speake. His present gift
    Shall furnish me to those Italian fields
    Where noble fellowes strike: Warres is no strife
    1200To 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.
    1205Par Why these bals bound, ther's noise in it. Tis hard
    A yong man maried, is a man that's mard:
    Therefore away, and leaue her brauely: go,
    The King ha's done you wrong: but hush 'tis so. Exit
    Enter Helena and Clowne
    1210Hel My mother greets me kindly, is she well?
    Clo She is not well, but yet she has her health, she's
    very merrie, but yet she is not well: but thankes be gi-
    uen she's very well, and wants nothing i'th world: but
    yet she is not well.
    1215Hel If she be verie wel, what do's she ayle, that she's
    not verie well?
    Clo Truly she's very well indeed, but for two things
    Hel What two things?
    Clo One, that she's not in heauen, whether God send
    1220her quickly: the other, that she's in earth, from whence
    God send her quickly.
    Enter Parolles
    Par Blesse you my fortunate Ladie.
    Hel I hope sir I haue your good will to haue mine
    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,
    1230I would she did as you say.
    Par Why I say nothing.
    Clo Marry you are the wiser man: for many a mans
    tongue shakes out his masters vndoing: to say nothing,
    to do nothing, to know nothing, and to haue nothing,
    1235is to be a great part of your title, which is within a verie
    little of nothing.
    Par Away, th'art a knaue.
    Clo You should haue said sir before a knaue, th'art a
    knaue, that's before me th'art a knaue: this had beene
    1240truth sir.
    Par Go too, thou art a wittie foole, I haue found
    thee.
    Clo Did you finde me in your selfe sir, or were you
    taught to finde me?
    1245Clo The search sir was profitable, and much Foole
    may you find in you, euen to the worlds pleasure, and the
    encrease of laughter.
    Par A good knaue ifaith, and well fed.
    Madam, my Lord will go awaie to night,
    A
    240All's Well that Ends Well
    1250A 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 sweets
    1255Which 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,
    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?
    Par That hauing this obtain'd, you presentlie
    1265Attend his further pleasure.
    Hel In euery thing I waite vpon his will.
    Par I shall report it so. Exit Par
    Hell I pray you come sirrah. Exit
    Enter Lafew and Bertram
    1270Laf 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.
    1275Laf Then my Diall goes not true, I tooke this Larke
    for a bunting.
    Ber I do assure you my Lord he is very great in know-
    ledge, and accordinglie valiant.
    Laf I haue then sinn'd against his experience, and
    1280transgrest against his valour, and my state that way is
    dangerous, since I cannot yet find in my heart to repent:
    Heere he comes, I pray you make vs freinds, I will pur-
    sue the amitie.
    Enter Parolles
    1285Par 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 worke-
    man, a verie good Tailor.
    1290Ber 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,
    1295Giuen order for our horses, and to night,
    When I should take possession of the Bride,
    And ere I doe begin.
    Laf A good Trauailer is something at the latter end
    of a dinner, but on that lies three thirds, and vses a
    1300known truth to passe a thousand nothings with, should
    bee once hard, and thrice beaten. God saue you Cap-
    taine.
    Ber Is there any vnkindnes betweene my Lord and
    you Monsieur?
    1305Par I know not how I haue deserued to run into my
    Lords displeasure.
    Laf You haue made shift to run into't, bootes and
    spurres and all: like him that leapt into the Custard, and
    out of it you'le runne againe, rather then suffer question
    1310for your residence.
    Ber It may bee you haue mistaken him my Lord.
    Laf And shall doe so euer, though I tooke him at's
    prayers. Fare you well my Lord, and beleeue this of
    me, there can be no kernell in this light Nut: the soule
    1315of this man is his cloathes: Trust him not in matter of
    heauie consequence: I haue kept of them tame, & know
    their natures. Farewell Monsieur, I haue spoken better
    of you, then you haue or will to deserue at my hand, but
    we must do good against euill.
    1320Par An idle Lord, I sweare.
    Ber I thinke so.
    Par Why do you not know him?
    Ber Yes, I do know him well, and common speech
    Giues him a worthy passe. Heere comes my clog.
    1325Enter Helena
    Hel I haue sir as I was commanded from you
    Spoke with the King, and haue procur'd his leaue
    For present parting, onely he desires
    Some priuate speech with you.
    1330Ber I shall obey his will.
    You must not meruaile Helenat my course,
    Which holds not colour with the time, nor does
    The ministration, and required office
    On my particular. Prepar'd I was not
    1335For such a businesse, therefore am I found
    So much vnsetled: This driues me to intreate you,
    That presently you take your way for home,
    And rather muse then aske why I intreate you,
    For my respects are better then they seeme,
    1340And my appointments haue in them a neede
    Greater then shewes it selfe at the first view,
    To you that know them not. This to my mother,
    'Twill be two daies ere I shall see you, so
    I leaue you to your wisedome.
    1345Hel Sir, I can nothing say,
    But that I am your most obedient seruant.
    Ber Come, come, no more of that.
    Hel And euer shall
    With true obseruance seeke to eeke out that
    1350Wherein toward me my homely starres haue faild
    To equall my great fortune.
    Ber Let that goe: my hast is verie great. Farwell:
    Hie home.
    Hel Pray sir your pardon.
    1355Ber Well, what would you say?
    Hel I am not worthie of the wealth I owe,
    Nor dare I say 'tis mine: and yet it is,
    But like a timorous theefe, most faine would steale
    What law does vouch mine owne.
    1360Ber 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.
    1365Hel I shall not breake your bidding, good my Lord:
    Where are my other men? Monsieur, farwell. Exit
    Ber Go thou toward home, where I wil neuer come,
    Whilst I can shake my sword, or heare the drumme:
    Away, and for our flight.
    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
    The
    All's Well, that Ends Well 241
    1375The fundamentall reasons of this warre,
    Whose great decision hath much blood let forth
    And more thirsts after.
    1.Lord Holy seemes the quarrell
    Vpon your Graces part: blacke and fearefull
    1380On the opposer.
    Duke Therefore we meruaile much our Cosin France
    Would in so iust a businesse, shut his bosome
    Against our borrowing prayers.
    FrenchE Good my Lord,
    1385The reasons of our state I cannot yeelde,
    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.
    Duke Be it his pleasure.
    Fren.G But I am sure the yonger of our nature,
    That surfet on their ease, will day by day
    1395Come heere for Physicke.
    Duke Welcome shall they bee:
    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
    Count It hath happen'd all, as I would haue had it, saue
    that he comes not along with her.
    Clo By my troth I take my young Lord to be a ve-
    1405rie melancholly man.
    Count By what obseruance I pray you.
    Clo Why he will looke vppon his boote, and sing:
    mend the Ruffe and sing, aske questions and sing, picke
    his teeth, and sing: I know a man that had this tricke of
    1410melancholy hold a goodly Mannor for a song.
    Lad Let me see what he writes, and when he meanes
    to come.
    Clow I haue no minde to Isbellsince I was at Court.
    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?
    Clo In that you haue there. exit
    A Letter
    I haue sent you a daughter-in-Law, shee hath recouered the
    King, and vndone me I haue wedded her, not bedded her
    and sworne to make the not eternall. You shall heare I am
    runne away, know it before the report come. If there bee
    1425 bredth enough in the world, I will hold a long distance. My
    duty to you. Your vnfortunate sonne
    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,
    By the misprising of a Maide too vertuous
    For the contempt of Empire.
    Enter Clowne
    Clow O Madam, yonder is heauie newes within be-
    1435tweene two souldiers, and my yong Ladie.
    La What is the matter.
    Clo Nay there is some comfort in the newes, some
    comfort, your sonne will not be kild so soone as I thoght
    he would.
    1440La Why should he be kill'd?
    Clo So say I Madame, if he runne away, as I heare he
    does, the danger is in standing too't, that's the losse of
    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.
    FrenchG Do not say so.
    1450La Thinke vpon patience, pray you Gentlemen,
    I haue felt so many quirkes of ioy and greefe,
    That the first face of neither on the start
    Can woman me vntoo't. Where is my sonne I pray you?
    Fren.G Madam he's gone to serue the Duke of Flo-
    1455 rence,
    We met him thitherward, for thence we came:
    And after some dispatch in hand at Court,
    Thither we bend againe.
    Hel Looke on his Letter Madam, here's my Pasport.
    When thou canst get the Ring vpon my finger, which neuer
    shall come off, and shew mee a childe begotten of thy bodie
    that I am father too, then call me husband: but in such a (then)
    I write a Neuer
    This is a dreadfull sentence.
    1465La Brought you this Letter Gentlemen?
    1. G I Madam, and for the Contents sake are sorrie
    for our paines.
    Old La I prethee Ladie haue a better cheere,
    If thou engrossest, all the greefes are thine,
    1470Thou robst me of a moity: He was my sonne,
    But I do wash his name out of my blood,
    And thou art all my childe. Towards Florence is he?
    Fren. G I Madam.
    La And to be a souldier.
    1475Fren. G Such is his noble purpose, and beleeu't
    The Duke will lay vpon him all the honor
    That good conuenience claimes.
    La Returne you thither.
    Fren. E I Madam, with the swiftest wing of speed.
    1480Hel. Till I haue no wife, I haue nothing in France
    'Tis bitter.
    La Finde you that there?
    Hel I Madame.
    Fren. E 'Tis but the boldnesse of his hand haply, which
    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
    But onely she, and she deserues a Lord
    That twenty such rude boyes might tend vpon,
    1490And call her hourely Mistris. Who was with him?
    Fren. E A seruant onely, and a Gentleman: which I
    haue sometime knowne.
    La Parolleswas it not?
    Fren. E I my good Ladie, hee.
    1495La A verie tainted fellow, and full of wickednesse,
    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
    when you see my sonne, to tell him that his sword can
    neuer winne the honor that he looses: more Ile intreate
    X you
    242All's Well that Ends Well
    you written to beare along.
    Fren. G We serue you Madam in that and all your
    1505worthiest affaires.
    La Not so, but as we change our courtesies,
    Will you draw neere? Exit
    Hel.Till I haue no wife I haue nothing in France
    Nothing in France vntill he has no wife:
    1510Thou shalt haue none Rossillion none in France,
    Then hast thou all againe: poore Lord, is't I
    That chase thee from thy Countrie, and expose
    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
    Of smoakie Muskets? O you leaden messengers,
    That ride vpon the violent speede of fire,
    Fly with false ayme, moue the still-peering aire
    1520That sings with piercing, do not touch my Lord:
    Who euer shoots at him, I set him there.
    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
    With sharpe constraint of hunger: better 'twere,
    That all the miseries which nature owes
    Were mine at once. No come thou home Rossillion
    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
    The ayre of Paradise did fan the house,
    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
    1540drum and trumpets, soldiers, Parrolles
    Duke The Generall of our horse thou art, and we
    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
    Wee'l striue to beare it for your worthy sake,
    To th' extreme edge of hazard.
    Duke Then go thou forth,
    And fortune play vpon thy prosperous helme
    1550As thy auspicious mistris.
    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
    1555Enter Countesse & Steward
    La Alas! and would you take the letter of her:
    Might you not know she would do, as she has done,
    By sending me a Letter. 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
    1565My deerest Master your deare sonne, may hie
    Blesse him at home in peace. Whilst I from farre
    His name with zealous feruour sanctifie
    His taken labours bid him me forgiue
    I his despightfull Iuno sent him forth
    1570From 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
    Whom I my selfe embrace, to set him free
    Ah what sharpe stings are in her mildest words?
    1575Rynaldo you did neuer lacke aduice so much,
    As letting her passe so: had I spoke with her,
    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.
    La What Angell shall
    Blesse this vnworthy husband, he cannot thriue,
    1585Vnlesse her prayers, whom heauen delights to heare
    And loues to grant, repreeue him from the wrath
    Of greatest Iustice. Write, write Rynaldo
    To this vnworthy husband of his wife,
    Let euerie word waigh heauie of her worrh,
    1590That he does waigh too light: my greatest greefe,
    Though little he do feele it, set downe sharpely.
    Dispatch the most conuenient messenger,
    When haply he shall heare that she is gone,
    He will returne, and hope I may that shee
    1595Hearing so much, will speede her foote againe,
    Led hither by pure loue: which of them both
    Is deerest to me, I haue no skill in sence
    To make distinction: prouide this Messenger:
    My heart is heauie, and mine age is weake,
    1600Greefe would haue teares, and sorrow bids me speake.
    Exeunt
    A Tucket afarre off
    Enter old Widdow of Florence, her daughter Violenta
    and Mariana, with other
    1605Citizens
    Widdow Nay come,
    For if they do approach the Citty,
    We shall loose all the sight.
    Diana They say, the French Count has done
    1610Most honourable seruice.
    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,
    And suffice our selues with the report of it.
    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
    All's Well that Ends Well 243
    Maria I know that knaue, hang him, one Parolles
    a filthy Officer he is in those suggestions for the young
    Earle, beware of them Diana their promises, entise-
    ments, oathes, tokens, and all these engines of lust, are
    1630not the things they go vnder: many a maide hath beene
    seduced by them, and the miserie is example, that so
    terrible shewes in the wracke of maiden-hood, cannot
    for all that disswade succession, but that they are limed
    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
    further danger knowne, but the modestie which is so
    lost.
    Dia You shall not neede to feare me.
    1640Enter Hellen
    Wid I hope so: looke here comes a pilgrim, I know
    she will lye at my house, thither they send one another,
    Ile question her. God saue you pilgrim, whether are
    bound?
    1645Hel To S. Iaques la grand
    Where do the Palmers lodge, I do beseech you?
    Wid At the S[aint]. Francisheere beside the Port.
    Hel Is this the way? A march afarre
    Wid I marrie ist. Harke you, they come this way:
    1650If you will tarrie holy Pilgrime
    But till the troopes come by,
    I will conduct you where you shall be lodg'd,
    The rather for I thinke I know your hostesse
    As ample as my selfe.
    1655Hel Is it your selfe?
    Wid If you shall please so Pilgrime.
    Hel I thanke you, and will stay vpon your leisure.
    Wid You came I thinke from France
    Hel I did so.
    1660Wid Heere you shall see a Countriman of yours
    That has done worthy seruice.
    Hel His name I pray you?
    Dia The Count Rossillion know you such a one?
    Hel But by the eare that heares most nobly of him:
    1665His face I know not.
    Dia What somere he is
    He's brauely taken heere. He stole from France
    As 'tis reported: for the King had married him
    Against his liking. Thinke you it is so?
    1670Hel I surely meere the truth, I know his Lady.
    Dia There is a Gentleman that serues the Count,
    Reports but coursely of her.
    Hel What's his name?
    Dia Monsieur Parrolles
    1675Hel Oh I beleeue with him,
    In argument of praise, or to the worth
    Of the great Count himselfe, she is too meane
    To haue her name repeated, all her deseruing
    Is a reserued honestie, and that
    1680I haue not heard examin'd.
    Dian Alas poore Ladie,
    'Tis a hard bondage to become the wife
    Of a detesting Lord.
    Wid I write good creature, wheresoere she is,
    1685Her hart waighes sadly: this yong maid might do her
    A shrewd turne if she pleas'd.
    Hel How do you meane?
    May be the amorous Count solicites her
    In the vnlawfull purpose.
    1690Wid He does indeede,
    And brokes with all that can in such a suite
    Corrupt the tender honour of a Maide:
    But she is arm'd for him, and keepes her guard
    In honestest defence.
    1695Drumme and Colours
    Enter Count Rossillion, Parrolles, and the whole Armie
    Mar The goddes forbid else.
    Wid So, now they come:
    That is Anthoniothe Dukes eldest sonne,
    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.
    Di 'Tis pitty he is not honest: yonds that same knaue
    That leades him to these places: were I his Ladie,
    I would poison that vile Rascall.
    1710Hel Which is he?
    Dia That Iacke-an-apes with scarfes. Why is hee
    melancholly?
    Hel Perchance he's hurt i'th battaile.
    Par Loose our drum? Well.
    1715Mar He's shrewdly vext at something. Looke he
    has spyed vs.
    Wid Marrie hang you.
    Mar And your curtesie, for a ring-carrier.
    Exit
    Wid The troope is past: Come pilgrim, I wil bring
    1720you, Where you shall host: Of inioyn'd penitents
    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,
    I will bestow some precepts of this Virgin,
    Worthy the note.
    Both Wee'l take your offer kindly. Exeunt
    1730Enter Count Rossillion and the Frenchmen
    as at first
    Cap. E Nay good my Lord put him too't: let him
    haue his way.
    Cap. G If your Lordshippe finde him not a Hilding,
    1735hold me no more in your respect.
    Cap. E On my life my Lord, a bubble.
    Ber Do you thinke I am so farre
    Deceiued in him.
    Cap. E Beleeue it my Lord, in mine owne direct
    1740knowledge, without any malice, but to speake of him
    as my kinsman, hee's a most notable Coward, an infi-
    nite and endlesse Lyar, an hourely promise-breaker, the
    owner of no one good qualitie, worthy your Lordships
    entertainment.
    1745Cap. G It were fit you knew him, least reposing too
    farre in his vertue which he hath not, he might at some
    great and trustie businesse, in a maine daunger, fayle
    you.
    Ber I would I knew in what particular action to try
    1750him.
    Cap. G None better then to let him fetch off his
    drumme, which you heare him so confidently vnder-
    take to do.
    C. E I with a troop of Florentines wil sodainly sur-
    X 2 prize
    244All's Well that Ends Well
    1755prize him; such I will haue whom I am sure he knowes
    not from the enemie: wee will binde and hoodwinke
    him so, that he shall suppose no other but that he is car-
    ried into the Leager of the aduersaries, when we bring
    him to our owne tents: be but your Lordship present
    1760at his examination, if he do not for the promise of his
    life, and in the highest compulsion of base feare, offer to
    betray you, and deliuer all the intelligence in his power
    against you, and that with the diuine forfeite of his
    soule vpon oath, neuer trust my iudgement in anie
    1765thing.
    Cap. G O for the loue of laughter, let him fetch his
    drumme, he sayes he has a stratagem for't: when your
    Lordship sees the bottome of this successe in't, and to
    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
    Cap. E O for the loue of laughter hinder not the ho-
    nor of his designe, let him fetch off his drumme in any
    1775hand.
    Ber How now Monsieur? This drumme sticks sore-
    ly in your disposition.
    Cap. G A pox on't, let it go, 'tis but a drumme.
    Par But a drumme: Ist but a drumme? A drum so
    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
    of the seruice: it was a disaster of warre that Caesarhim
    1785selfe could not haue preuented, if he had beene there to
    command.
    Ber Well, wee cannot greatly condemne our suc-
    cesse: some dishonor wee had in the losse of that drum,
    but it is not to be recouered.
    1790Par It might haue beene recouered.
    Ber It might, but it is not now.
    Par It is to be recouered, but that the merit of ser-
    uice is sildome attributed to the true and exact perfor-
    mer, I would haue that drumme or another, or hic ia-
    1795cet
    Ber Why if you haue a stomacke, too't Monsieur: if
    you thinke your mysterie in stratagem, can bring this
    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
    it, the Duke shall both speake of it, and extend to you
    what further becomes his greatnesse, euen to the vtmost
    syllable of your worthinesse.
    Par By the hand of a souldier I will vndertake it.
    1805Ber But you must not now slumber in it.
    Par Ile about it this euening, and I will presently
    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.
    Par I know not what the successe wil be my Lord,
    but the attempt I vow.
    Ber I know th'art valiant,
    1815And to the possibility of thy souldiership,
    Will subscribe for thee: Farewell.
    Par I loue not many words. Exit
    Cap. E No more then a fish loues water. Is not this
    a strange fellow my Lord, that so confidently seemes to
    1820vndertake this businesse, which he knowes is not to be
    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,
    certaine it is that he will steale himselfe into a mans fa-
    1825uour, and for a weeke escape a great deale of discoue-
    ries, but when you finde him out, you haue him euer af-
    ter.
    Ber Why do you thinke he will make no deede at
    all of this that so seriouslie hee dooes addresse himselfe
    1830vnto?
    Cap. E None in the world, but returne with an in-
    uention, and clap vpon you two or three probable lies:
    but we haue almost imbost him, you shall see his fall to
    night; for indeede he is not for your Lordshippes re-
    1835spect.
    Cap. G Weele make you some sport with the Foxe
    ere we case him. He was first smoak'd by the old Lord
    Lafew when his disguise and he is parted, tell me what
    a sprat you shall finde him, which you shall see this ve-
    1840rie night.
    Cap. E I must go looke my twigges,
    He shall be caught.
    Ber Your brother he shall go along with me.
    Cap. G As't please your Lordship, Ile leaue you.
    1845Ber Now wil I lead you to the house, and shew you
    The Lasse I spoke of.
    Cap. E But you say she's honest.
    Ber That's all the fault: I spoke with hir but once,
    And found her wondrous cold, but I sent to her
    1850By this same Coxcombe that we haue i'th winde
    Tokens and Letters, which she did resend,
    And this is all I haue done: She's a faire creature,
    Will you go see her?
    Cap. E With all my heart my Lord. Exeunt
    1855Enter Hellen, and Widdow
    Hel If you misdoubt me that I am not shee,
    I know not how I shall assure you further,
    But I shall loose the grounds I worke vpon.
    Wid Though my estate be falne, I was well borne,
    1860Nothing acquainted with these businesses,
    And would not put my reputation now
    In any staining act.
    Hel Nor would I wish you.
    First giue me trust, the Count he is my husband,
    1865And what to your sworne counsaile I haue spoken,
    Is so from word to word: and then you cannot
    By the good ayde that I of you shall borrow,
    Erre in bestowing it.
    Wid I should beleeue you,
    1870For you haue shew'd me that which well approues
    Y'are great in fortune.
    Hel Take this purse of Gold,
    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,
    Resolue to carrie her: let her in fine consent
    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,
    That downward hath succeeded in his house
    From
    All's Well, that Ends Well 245
    From sonne to sonne, some foure or fiue discents,
    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.
    Wid Now I see the bottome of your purpose.
    Hel You see it lawfull then, it is no more,
    1890But that your daughter ere she seemes as wonne,
    Desires this Ring; appoints him an encounter;
    In fine, deliuers me to fill the time,
    Her selfe most chastly absent: after
    To marry her, Ile adde three thousand Crownes
    1895To what is past already.
    Wid I haue yeelded:
    Instruct my daughter how she shall perseuer,
    That time and place with this deceite so lawfull
    May proue coherent. Euery night he comes
    1900With Musickes of all sorts, and songs compos'd
    To her vnworthinesse: It nothing steeds vs
    To chide him from our eeues, for he persists
    As if his life lay on't.
    Hel Why then to night
    1905Let vs assay our plot, which if it speed,
    Is wicked meaning in a lawfull deede;
    And lawfull meaning in a lawfull act,
    Where both not sinne, and yet a sinfull fact.
    But let's about it.
    1910Actus Quartus
    Enter one of the Frenchmen, with fiue or sixe other
    souldiers in ambush
    1. LordE He can come no other way but by this hedge
    corner: when you sallie vpon him, speake what terrible
    1915Language you will: though you vnderstand it not your
    selues, no matter: for we must not seeme to vnderstand
    him, vnlesse some one among vs, whom wee must pro-
    duce for an Interpreter.
    1. Sol Good Captaine, let me be th' Interpreter.
    1920Lor.E. Art not acquainted with him? knowes he not
    thy voice?
    1. Sol No sir I warrant you.
    Lo.E. But what linsie wolsy hast thou to speake to vs
    againe.
    19251. Sol E'n such as you speake to me.
    Lo. . He must thinke vs some band of strangers, i'th
    aduersaries entertainment. Now he hath a smacke of all
    neighbouring Languages: therefore we must euery one
    be a man of his owne fancie, not to know what we speak
    1930one to another: so we seeme to know, is to know straight
    our purpose: Choughs language, gabble enough, and
    good enough. As for you interpreter, you must seeme
    very politicke. But couch hoa, heere hee comes, to be-
    guile two houres in a sleepe, and then to returne & swear
    1935the lies he forges.
    Enter Parrolles
    Par Ten a clocke: Within these three houres 'twill
    be time enough to goe home. What shall I say I haue
    done? It must bee a very plausiue inuention that carries
    1940it. They beginne to smoake mee, and disgraces haue of
    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.
    1945Lo. . This is the first truth that ere thine own tongue
    was guiltie of.
    Par What the diuell should moue mee to vndertake
    the recouerie of this drumme, being not ignorant of the
    impossibility, and knowing I had no such purpose? I
    1950must giue my selfe some hurts, and say I got them in ex-
    ploit: yet slight ones will not carrie it. They will say,
    came you off with so little? And great ones I dare not
    giue, wherefore what's the instance. Tongue, I must put
    you into a Butter-womans mouth, and buy my selfe ano-
    1955ther of BaiazethsMule, if you prattle mee into these
    perilles.
    Lo. . Is it possible he should know what hee is, and
    be that he is.
    Par I would the cutting of my garments wold serue
    1960the turne, or the breaking of my Spanish sword.
    Lo. . We cannot affoord you so.
    Par Or the baring of my beard, and to say it was in
    stratagem.
    Lo. . 'Twould not do.
    1965Par Or to drowne my cloathes, and say I was stript.
    Lo. . Hardly serue.
    Par Though I swore I leapt from the window of the
    Citadell.
    Lo.E. How deepe?
    1970Par Thirty fadome.
    Lo.E. Three great oathes would scarse make that be
    beleeued.
    Par I would I had any drumme of the enemies, I
    would sweare I recouer'd it.
    1975Lo.E. You shall heare one anon.
    Par A drumme now of the enemies.
    Alarum within
    Lo.E. Throca movousus, cargo, cargo, cargo
    All Cargo, cargo, cargo, villianda par corbo, cargo
    1980Par O ransome, ransome,
    Do not hide mine eyes.
    Inter Boskos thromuldo boskos
    Par I know you are the MuskosRegiment,
    And I shall loose my life for want of language.
    1985If there be heere German or Dane, Low Dutch,
    Italian, or French, let him speake to me,
    Ile discouer that, which shal vndo the Florentine.
    Int Boskos vauvado I vnderstand thee, & can speake
    thy tongue: Kerelybontosir, betake thee to thy faith, for
    1990seuenteene ponyards are at thy bosome.
    Par Oh.
    Inter Oh pray, pray, pray,
    Manka reuania dulche
    Lo. E Oscorbidulchos voliuorco
    1995Int The Generall is content to spare thee yet,
    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,
    2000And all the secrets of our campe Ile shew,
    Their force, their purposes: Nay, Ile speake that,
    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
    X 3 Lo E
    246All's Well that Ends Well
    L. E Go tell the Count Rossillionand my brother,
    We haue caught the woodcocke, and will keepe him (mufled
    2010Till we do heare from them.
    Sol Captaine I will.
    L. E A will betray vs all vnto our selues,
    Informe on that.
    Sol So I will sir.
    2015L. E Till then Ile keepe him darke and safely lockt.
    Exit
    Enter Bertram, and the Maide called
    Diana
    Ber They told me that your name was Fontybell
    2020Dia No my good Lord, Diana
    Ber Titled Goddesse,
    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
    When you are dead you should be such a one
    As you are now: for you are cold and sterne,
    And now you should be as your mother was
    When your sweet selfe was got.
    2030Dia She then was honest.
    Ber So should you be.
    Dia No:
    My mother did but dutie, such (my Lord)
    As you owe to your wife.
    2035Ber No more a'that:
    I prethee do not striue against my vowes:
    I was compell'd to her, but I loue thee
    By loues owne sweet constraint, and will for euer
    Do thee all rights of seruice.
    2040Dia I so you serue vs
    Till we serue you: But when you haue our Roses,
    You barely leaue our thornes to pricke our selues,
    And mocke vs with our barenesse.
    Ber How haue I sworne.
    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,
    But take the high'st to witnesse: then pray you tell me,
    If I should sweare by Ioues great attributes,
    2050I lou'd you deerely, would you beleeue my oathes,
    When I did loue you ill? This ha's no holding
    To sweare by him whom I protest to loue
    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,
    2060But giue thy selfe vnto my sicke desires,
    Who then recouers. Say thou art mine, and euer
    My loue as it beginnes, shall so perseuer.
    Dia I see that men make rope's in such a scarre,
    That wee'l forsake our selues. Giue me that Ring.
    2065Ber Ile lend it thee my deere; but haue no power
    To giue it from me.
    Dia Will you not my Lord?
    Ber It is an honour longing to our house,
    Bequeathed downe from manie Ancestors,
    2070Which were the greatest obloquie i'th world,
    In me to loose.
    Dian Mine Honors such a Ring,
    My chastities the Iewell of our house,
    Bequeathed downe from many Ancestors,
    2075Which were the greatest oblo quie i'th world,
    In mee to loose. Thus your owne proper wisedome
    Brings in the Champion honor on my part,
    Against your vaine assault.
    Ber Heere, take my Ring,
    2080My house, mine honor, yea my life be thine,
    And Ile be bid by thee.
    Dia When midnight comes, knocke at my cham-
    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:
    My reasons are most strong, and you shall know them,
    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,
    As if she sate in's heart. She sayes, all men
    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:
    Onely in this disguise, I think't no sinne,
    2105To cosen him that would vniustly winne. Exit
    Enter the two French Captaines, and some two or three
    Souldiours
    Cap. G You haue not giuen him his mothers letter.
    Cap. E I haue deliu'red it an houre since, there is som
    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,
    for shaking off so good a wife, and so sweet a Lady.
    Cap. E Especially, hee hath incurred the euerlasting
    2115displeasure of the King, who had euen tun'd his bounty
    to sing happinesse to him. I will tell you a thing, but
    you shall let it dwell darkly with you.
    Cap. G When you haue spoken it 'tis dead, and I am
    the graue of it.
    2120Cap. E Hee hath peruerted a young Gentlewoman
    heere in Florence of a most chaste renown, & this night
    he fleshes his will in the spoyle of her honour: hee hath
    giuen her his monumentall Ring, and thinkes himselfe
    made in the vnchaste composition.
    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
    common course of all treasons, we still see them reueale
    themselues, till they attaine to their abhorr'd ends: so
    2130he that in this action contriues against his owne Nobi-
    lity in his proper streame, ore-flowes himselfe.
    Cap. G Is it not meant damnable in vs, to be Trum-
    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
    a
    All's Well that Ends Well 247
    a measure of his owne iudgements, wherein so curiously
    2140he had set this counterfeit.
    Cap. E We will not meddle with him till he come;
    for his presence must be the whip of the other.
    Cap. G In the meane time, what heare you of these
    Warres?
    2145Cap. E I heare there is an ouerture of peace.
    Cap. G Nay, I assure you a peace concluded.
    Cap. E What will Count Rossilliondo then? Will he
    trauaile higher, or returne againe into France?
    Cap. G I perceiue by this demand, you are not alto-
    2150gether of his councell.
    Cap. E Let it be forbid sir, so should I bee a great
    deale of his act.
    Cap. G Sir, his wife some two months since fledde
    from his house, her pretence is a pilgrimage to Saint Ia-
    2155ques le grand; which holy vndertaking, with most au-
    stere sanctimonie she accomplisht: and there residing,
    the tendernesse of her Nature, became as a prey to her
    greefe: in fine, made a groane of her last breath, & now
    she sings in heauen.
    2160Cap. E How is this iustified?
    Cap. G The stronger part of it by her owne Letters,
    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.
    Cap. E I am heartily sorrie that hee'l bee gladde of
    2170this.
    Cap. G How mightily sometimes, we make vs com-
    forts of our losses.
    Cap. E And how mightily some other times, wee
    drowne our gaine in teares, the great dignitie that his
    2175valour hath here acquir'd for him, shall at home be en-
    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
    our faults whipt them not, and our crimes would dis-
    2180paire if they were not cherish'd by our vertues.
    Enter a Messenger
    How now? Where's your master?
    Ser He met the Duke in the street sir, of whom hee
    hath taken a solemne leaue: his Lordshippe will next
    2185morning for France. The Duke hath offered him Let-
    ters of commendations to the King.
    Cap. E They shall bee no more then needfull there,
    if they were more then they can commend.
    Enter Count Rossillion
    2190Ber They cannot be too sweete for the Kings tart-
    nesse, heere's his Lordship now. How now my Lord,
    i'st not after midnight?
    Ber I haue to night dispatch'd sixteene businesses, a
    moneths length a peece, by an abstract of successe: I
    2195haue congied with the Duke, done my adieu with his
    neerest; buried a wife, mourn'd for her, writ to my La-
    die mother, I am returning, entertain'd my Conuoy, &
    betweene these maine parcels of dispatch, affected ma-
    ny nicer needs: the last was the greatest, but that I haue
    2200not ended yet.
    Cap. E If the businesse bee of any difficulty, and this
    morning your departure hence, it requires hast of your
    Lordship.
    Ber I meane the businesse is not ended, as fearing
    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.
    Cap. E. Bring him forth, ha's sate i'th stockes all night
    2210poore gallant knaue.
    Ber No matter, his heeles haue deseru'd it, in vsur-
    ping his spurres so long. How does he carry himselfe?
    Cap.E. I haue told your Lordship alreadie: The
    stockes carrie him. But to answer you as you would be
    2215vnderstood, hee weepes like a wench that had shed her
    milke, he hath confest himselfe to Morgan whom hee
    supposes to be a Friar, frō the time of his remembrance
    to this very instant disaster of his setting i'th stockes:
    and what thinke you he hath confest?
    2220Ber Nothing of me, ha's a?
    Cap. E His confession is taken, and it shall bee read
    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
    2225Ber A plague vpon him, muffeld; he can say nothing
    of me: hush, hush.
    Cap. G Hoodman comes: Portotartarossa
    Inter He calles for the tortures, what will you say
    without em.
    2230Par I will confesse what I know without constraint,
    If ye pinch me like a Pasty, I can say no more.
    Int Bosko Chimurcho
    Cap Boblibindo chicurmurco
    Int You are a mercifull Generall: Our Generall
    2235bids you answer to what I shall aske you out of a Note.
    Par And truly, as I hope to liue.
    Int First demand of him, how many horse the Duke
    is strong. What say you to that?
    Par Fiue or sixe thousand, but very weake and vn-
    2240seruiceable: the troopes are all scattered, and the Com-
    manders verie poore rogues, vpon my reputation and
    credit, and as I hope to liue.
    Int Shall I set downe your answer so?
    Par Do, Ile take the Sacrament on't, how & which
    2245way you will: all's one to him.
    Ber What a past-sauing slaue is this?
    Cap. G Y'are deceiu'd my Lord, this is Mounsieur
    Parrollesthe gallant militarist, that was his owne phrase
    that had the whole theoricke of warre in the knot of his
    2250scarfe, and the practise in the chape of his dagger.
    Cap. E I will neuer trust a man againe, for keeping
    his sword cleane, nor beleeue he can haue euerie thing
    in him, by wearing his apparrell neatly.
    Int Well, that's set downe.
    2255Par Fiue or six thousand horse I sed, I will say true,
    or thereabouts set downe, for Ile speake truth.
    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.
    2260Par Poore rogues, I pray you say.
    Int Well, that's set downe.
    Par I humbly thanke you sir, a truth's a truth, the
    Rogues are maruailous poore.
    Interp Demaund of him of what strength they are a
    2265foot. What say you to that?
    Par By my troth sir, if I were to liue this present
    houre, I will tell true. Let me see, Spurioa hundred &
    fiftie
    248All's Well that Ends Well
    fiftie, Sebastianso many, Corambusso many, Iaquesso
    many: Guiltian, Cosmo, Lodowicke and Gratij two hun-
    2270dred fiftie each: Mine owne Company, Chitopher, Vau-
    mond, Bentij, two hundred fiftie each: so that the muster
    file, rotten and sound, vppon my life amounts not to fif-
    teene thousand pole, halfe of the which, dare not shake
    the snow from off their Cassockes, least they shake them-
    2275selues to peeces.
    Ber What shall be done to him?
    Cap. G Nothing, but let him haue thankes. Demand
    of him my condition: and what credite I haue with the
    Duke.
    2280Int Well that's set downe: you shall demaund of
    him, whether one Captaine Dumainebee i'th Campe, a
    Frenchman: what his reputation is with the Duke, what
    his valour, honestie, and expertnesse in warres: or whe-
    ther he thinkes it were not possible with well-waighing
    2285summes of gold to corrupt him to a reuolt. What say you
    to this? What do you know of it?
    Par I beseech you let me answer to the particular of
    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?
    Par Vpon my knowledge he is, and lowsie.
    Cay. G Nay looke not so vpon me: we shall heare of
    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.
    Int Marry we'll search.
    Par In good sadnesse I do not know, either it is there,
    or it is vpon a file with the Dukes other Letters, in my
    Tent.
    2310Int Heere 'tis, heere's a paper, shall I reade it to you?
    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
    2315Par That is not the Dukes letter sir: that is an ad-
    uertisement to a proper maide in Florence, one Diana to
    take heede of the allurement of one Count Rossillion a
    foolish idle boy: but for all that very ruttish. I pray you
    sir put it vp againe.
    2320Int Nay, Ile reade it first by your fauour.
    Par My meaning in't I protest was very honest in the
    behalfe of the maid: for I knew the young Count to be a
    dangerous and lasciuious boy, who is a whale to Virgi-
    nity, and deuours vp all the fry it finds.
    2325Ber Damnable both-sides rogue.
    Int Let When he sweares oathes, bid him drop gold, and
    take it
    After he scores, he neuer payes the score
    Halfe won is match well made, match and well make it
    2330He nere payes after-debts, take it before
    And say a souldier (Dian) told thee this
    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 it
    2335 Thine as he vow'd to thee in thine eare,
    Parolles
    Ber He shall be whipt through the Armie with this
    rime in's forehead.
    Cap. E This is your deuoted friend sir, the manifold
    2340Linguist, and the army-potent souldier.
    Ber I could endure any thing before but a Cat, and
    now he's a Cat to me.
    Int I perceiue sir by your Generals lookes, wee shall
    be faine to hang you.
    2345Par My life sir in any case: Not that I am afraide to
    dye, but that my offences beeing many, I would repent
    out the remainder of Nature. Let me liue sir in a dunge-
    on, i'th stockes, or any where, so I may liue.
    Int Wee'le see what may bee done, so you confesse
    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?
    Par He will steale sir an Egge out of a Cloister: for
    rapes and rauishments he paralels Nessus Hee professes
    2355not keeping of oaths, in breaking em he is stronger then
    Hercules He will lye sir, with such volubilitie, that you
    would thinke truth were a foole: drunkennesse is his best
    vertue, for he will be swine-drunke, and in his sleepe he
    does little harme, saue to his bed-cloathes about him:
    2360but they know his conditions, and lay him in straw. I
    haue but little more to say sir of his honesty, he ha's eue-
    rie thing that an honest man should not haue; what an
    honest man should haue, he has nothing.
    Cap. G I begin to loue him for this.
    2365Ber For this description of thine honestie? A pox
    vpon him for me, he's more and more a Cat.
    Int What say you to his expertnesse in warre?
    Par Faith sir, ha's led the drumme before the Eng-
    lish Tragedians: to belye him I will not, and more of his
    2370souldiership I know not, except in that Country, he had
    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.
    Cap. G He hath out-villain'd villanie so farre, that the
    2375raritie redeemes him.
    Ber A pox on him, he's a Cat still.
    Int His qualities being at this poore price, I neede
    not to aske you, if Gold will corrupt him to reuolt.
    Par Sir, for a Cardceue he will sell the fee-simple of
    2380his saluation, the inheritance of it, and cut th' intaile from
    all remainders, and a perpetuall succession for it perpe-
    tually.
    Int What's his Brother, the other Captain Dumain
    Cap. E Why do's he aske him of me?
    2385Int What's he?
    Par E'ne a Crow a'th same nest: not altogether so
    great as the first in goodnesse, but greater a great deale in
    euill. He excels his Brother for a coward, yet his Brother
    is reputed one of the best that is. In a retreate hee out-
    2390runnes any Lackey; marrie in comming on, hee ha's the
    Crampe.
    Int If your life be saued, will you vndertake to betray
    the Florentine.
    Par I, and the Captaine of his horse, Count Rossillion
    2395Int Ile whisper with the Generall, and knowe his
    pleasure.
    Par Ile no more drumming, a plague of all drummes,
    onely to seeme to deserue well, and to beguile the suppo-
    sition
    All's Well, that Ends Well 251
    sition of that lasciuious yong boy the Count, haue I run
    2400into this danger: yet who would haue suspected an am-
    bush where I was taken?
    Int There is no remedy sir, but you must dye: the
    Generall sayes, you that haue so traitorously discouerd
    the secrets of your army, and made such pestifferous re-
    2405ports of men very nobly held, can serue the world for
    no honest vse: therefore you must dye. Come heades-
    man, off with his head.
    Par O Lord sir let me liue, or let me see my death.
    Int That shall you, and take your leaue of all your
    2410friends:
    So, looke about you, know you any heere?
    Count Good morrow noble Captaine.
    Lo. E God blesse you Captaine Parolles
    Cap. G God saue you 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
    Rossillion and I were not a verie Coward, I'de compell
    2420it of you, but far you well. Exeunt
    Int You are vndone Captaine all but your scarfe,
    that has a knot on't yet.
    Par Who cannot be crush'd with a plot?
    Inter If you could finde out a Countrie where but
    2425women were that had receiued so much shame, you
    might begin an impudent Nation. Fare yee well sir, I
    am for Francetoo, we shall speake of you there. Exit
    Par Yet am I thankfull: if my heart were great
    'Twould burst at this: Captaine Ile be no more,
    2430But I will eate, and drinke, and sleepe as soft
    As Captaine shall. Simply the thing I am
    Shall make me liue: who knowes himselfe a braggart
    Let him feare this; for it will come to passe,
    That euery braggart shall be found an Asse.
    2435Rust sword, coole blushes, and Parrollesliue
    Safest in shame: being fool'd, by fool'rie thriue;
    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,
    One of the greatest in the Christian world
    Shall be my suretie: for whose throne 'tis needfull
    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
    I am supposed dead, the Army breaking,
    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,
    You neuer had a seruant to whose trust
    Your busines was more welcome.
    Hel Nor your Mistris
    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
    And helper to a husband. But O strange men,
    That can such sweet vse make of what they hate,
    2465When sawcie trusting of the cosin'd thoughts
    Defiles the pitchy night, so lust doth play
    With what it loathes, for that which is away,
    But more of this heereafter: you Diana
    Vnder my poore instructions yet must suffer
    2470Something in my behalfe.
    Dia Let death and honestie
    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,
    And be as sweet as sharpe: we must away,
    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
    Laf No, no, no, your sonne was misled with a snipt
    taffata fellow there, whose villanous saffron wold haue
    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
    had praise for creating. If she had pertaken of my flesh
    and cost mee the deerest groanes of a mother, I could
    not haue owed her a more rooted loue.
    Laf Twas a good Lady, 'twas a good Lady. Wee
    2495may picke a thousand sallets ere wee light on such ano-
    ther hearbe.
    Clo Indeed sir she was the sweete Margerom of the
    sallet, or rather the hearbe of grace.
    Laf They are not hearbes you knaue, they are nose-
    2500hearbes.
    Clowne I am no great Nabuchadnezarsir, I haue not
    much skill in grace.
    Laf Whether doest thou professe thy selfe, a knaue
    or a foole?
    2505Clo A foole sir at a womans seruice, and a knaue at a
    mans.
    Laf Your distinction.
    Clo I would cousen the man of his wife, and do his
    seruice.
    2510Laf So you were a knaue at his seruice indeed.
    Clo And I would giue his wife my bauble sir to doe
    her seruice.
    Laf I will subscribe for thee, thou art both knaue
    and foole.
    2515Clo At your seruice.
    Laf No, no, no.
    Clo Why sir, if I cannot serue you, I can serue as
    great a prince as you are.
    Laf Whose that, a Frenchman?
    2520Clo Faith sir a has an English maine, but his fisno-
    mie is more hotter in France then there.
    Laf What prince is that?
    Clo The blacke prince sir, alias the prince of darke-
    nesse, alias the diuell.
    2525Laf Hold thee there's my purse, I giue thee not this
    to suggest thee from thy master thou talk'st off, serue
    him still.
    Clow
    252All's Well that Ends Well
    Clo I am a woodland fellow sir, that alwaies loued
    a great fire, and the master I speak of euer keeps a good
    2530fire, but sure he is the Prince of the world, let his No-
    bilitie remaine in's Court. I am for the house with the
    narrow gate, which I take to be too little for pompe to
    enter: some that humble themselues may, but the ma-
    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,
    and I tell thee so before, because I would not fall out
    with thee. Go thy wayes, let my horses be wel look'd
    2540too, without any trickes.
    Clo If I put any trickes vpon em sir, they shall bee
    Iades trickes, which are their owne right by the law of
    Nature. exit
    Laf A shrewd knaue and an vnhappie.
    2545Lady So a is. My Lord that's gone made himselfe
    much sport out of him, by his authoritie hee remaines
    heere, which he thinkes is a pattent for his sawcinesse,
    and indeede he has no pace, but runnes where he will.
    Laf I like him well, 'tis not amisse: and I was about
    2550to tell you, since I heard of the good Ladies death, and
    that my Lord your sonne was vpon his returne home. I
    moued the King my master to speake in the behalfe of
    my daughter, which in the minoritie of them both, his
    Maiestie out of a selfe gracious remembrance did first
    2555propose, his Highnesse hath promis'd me to doe it, and
    to stoppe vp the displeasure he hath conceiued against
    your sonne, there is no fitter matter. How do's your
    Ladyship like it?
    La With verie much content my Lord, and I wish
    2560it happily effected.
    Laf His Highnesse comes post from Marcellus of as
    able bodie as when he number'd thirty, a will be heere
    to morrow, or I am deceiu'd by him that in such intel-
    ligence hath seldome fail'd.
    2565La Ir reioyces me, that I hope I shall see him ere I
    die. I haue letters that my sonne will be heere to night:
    I shall beseech your Lordship to remaine with mee, till
    they meete together.
    Laf Madam, I was thinking with what manners I
    2570might safely be admitted.
    Lad You neede but pleade your honourable priui-
    ledge.
    Laf Ladie, of that I haue made a bold charter, but
    I thanke my God, it holds yet.
    2575Enter Clowne
    Clo O Madam, yonders my Lord your sonne with
    a patch of veluet on's face, whether there bee a scar vn-
    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.
    Laf A scarre nobly got,
    Or a noble scarre, is a good liu'rie of honor,
    So belike is that.
    Clo But it is your carbinado'd face.
    2585Laf Let vs go see
    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
    2595Hel But this exceeding posting day and night,
    Must wear your spirits low, we cannot helpe it:
    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,
    If he would spend his power. God saue you sir.
    Gent And you.
    2605Hel Sir, I haue seene you in the Court of France.
    Gent I haue beene sometimes there.
    Hel I do presume sir, that you are not falne
    From the report that goes vpon your goodnesse,
    And therefore goaded with most sharpe occasions,
    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?
    Hel That it will please you
    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.
    Hel Not heere sir?
    2620Gen Not indeed,
    He hence remou'd last night, and with more hast
    Then is his vse.
    Wid Lord how we loose our paines.
    Hel All's well that ends well yet,
    2625Though time seeme so aduerse, and meanes vnfit:
    I do beseech you, whither is he gone?
    Gent Marrie as I take it to Rossillion
    Whither I am going.
    Hel I do beseech you sir,
    2630Since you are like to see the King before me,
    Commend the paper to his gracious hand,
    Which I presume shall render you no blame,
    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.
    Hel And you shall finde your selfe to be well thankt
    what e're falles more. We must to horse againe, Go, go,
    prouide.
    2640Enter Clowne and Parrolles
    Par Good Mr Lauatch giue my Lord Lafew this let-
    ter, I haue ere now sir beene better knowne to you, when
    I haue held familiaritie with fresher cloathes: but I am
    now sir muddied in fortunes mood, and smell somewhat
    2645strong of her strong displeasure.
    Clo Truely, Fortunes displeasure is but sluttish if it
    smell so strongly as thou speak'st of: I will hencefoorth
    eate no Fish of Fortunes butt'ring. Prethee alow the
    winde.
    2650Par Nay you neede not to stop your nose sir: I spake
    but by a Metaphor.
    Clo Indeed sir, if your Metaphor stinke, I will stop
    my nose, or against any mans Metaphor. Prethe get thee
    further.
    Par
    All's Well that Ends Well 251
    2655Par Pray you sir deliuer me this paper.
    Clo Foh, prethee stand away: a paper from fortunes
    close-stoole, to giue to a Nobleman. Looke heere he
    comes himselfe.
    Enter Lafew
    2660Clo Heere is a purre of Fortunes sir, or of Fortunes
    Cat, but not a Muscat, that ha's falne into the vncleane
    fish-pond of her displeasure, and as he sayes is muddied
    withall. Pray you sir, vse the Carpe as you may, for he
    lookes like a poore decayed, ingenious, foolish, rascally
    2665knaue. I doe pittie his distresse in my smiles of comfort,
    and leaue him to your Lordship.
    Par My Lord I am a man whom fortune hath cruel-
    ly scratch'd.
    Laf And what would you haue me to doe? 'Tis too
    2670late to paire her nailes now. Wherein haue you played
    the knaue with fortune that she should scratch you, who
    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
    2675businesse.
    Par I beseech your honour to heare mee one single
    word,
    Laf you begge a single peny more: Come you shall
    ha't, saue your word.
    2680Par My name my good Lord is Parrolles
    Laf You begge more then word then. Cox my pas-
    sion, giue me your hand: How does your drumme?
    Par O my good Lord, you were the first that found
    mee.
    2685Laf Was I insooth? And I was the first that lost thee.
    Par It lies in you my Lord to bring me in some grace
    for you did bring me out.
    Laf Out vpon thee knaue, doest thou put vpon mee
    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.
    Par I praise God for you.
    2695Flourish. Enter King, old Lady, Lafew, the two French
    Lords, with attendants
    Kin We lost a Iewell of her, and our esteeme
    Was made much poorer by it: but your sonne,
    As mad in folly, lack'd the sence to know
    2700Her estimation home.
    OldLa 'Tis past my Liege,
    And I beseech your Maiestie to make it
    Naturall rebellion, done i'th blade of youth,
    When oyle and fire, too strong for reasons force,
    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.
    2710Laf This I must say,
    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
    The greatest wrong of all. He lost a wife,
    2715Whose beauty did astonish the suruey
    Of richest eies: whose words all eares tooke captiue,
    Whose deere perfection, hearts that scorn'd to serue,
    Humbly call'd Mistris.
    Kin Praising what is lost,
    2720Makes the remembrance deere. Well, call him hither,
    We are reconcil'd, and the first view shall kill
    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.
    Gent I shall my Liege.
    Kin What sayes he to your daughter,
    2730Haue you spoke?
    Laf All that he is, hath reference to your Highnes.
    Kin Then shall we haue a match. I haue letters sent
    me, that sets him high in fame.
    Enter Count Bertram
    2735Laf He lookes well on't.
    Kin I am not a day of season,
    For thou maist see a sun-shine, and a haile
    In me at once: But to the brightest beames
    Distracted clouds giue way, so stand thou forth,
    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
    Th' inaudible, and noiselesse foot of time
    Steales, ere we can effect them. You remember
    The daughter of this Lord?
    2750Ber Admiringly my Liege, at first
    I stucke my choice vpon her, ere my heart
    Durst make too bold a herauld of my tongue:
    Where the impression of mine eye enfixing,
    Contempt his scornfull Perspectiue did lend me,
    2755Which warpt the line, of euerie other fauour,
    Scorn'd a faire colour, or exprest it stolne,
    Extended or contracted all proportions
    To a most hideous obiect. Thence it came,
    That she whom all men prais'd, and whom my selfe,
    2760Since I haue lost, haue lou'd; was in mine eye
    The dust that did offend it.
    Kin Well excus'd:
    That thou didst loue her, strikes some scores away
    From the great compt: but loue that comes too late,
    2765Like a remorsefull pardon slowly carried
    To the great sender, turnes a sowre offence,
    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.
    2770Oft our displeasures to our selues vniust,
    Destroy our friends, and after weepe their dust:
    Our owne loue waking, cries to see what's don,e
    While shamefull hate sleepes out the afternoone.
    Be this sweet Helensknell, and now forget her.
    2775Send forth your amorous token for faire Maudlin
    The maine consents are had, and heere wee'l stay
    To see our widdowers second marriage day:
    Which better then the first, O deere heauen blesse,
    Or, ere they meete in me, O Nature cesse.
    2780Laf Come on my sonne, in whom my houses name
    Must be digested: giue a fauour from you
    To sparkle in the spirits of my daughter,
    That
    252All's Well that Ends Well
    That she may quickly come. By my old beard,
    And eu'rie haire that's on't, Helenthat's dead
    2785Was a sweet creature: such a ring as this,
    The last that ere I tooke her leaue at Court,
    I saw vpon her finger.
    Ber Hers it was not.
    King Now pray you let me see it. For mine eye,
    2790While I was speaking, oft was fasten'd too't:
    This Ring was mine, and when I gaue it Hellen
    I bad her if her fortunes euer stoode
    Necessitied to helpe, that by this token
    I would releeue her. Had you that craft to reaue her
    2795Of what should stead her most?
    Ber My gracious Soueraigne,
    How ere it pleases you to take it so,
    The ring was neuer hers.
    OldLa Sonne, on my life
    2800I haue seene her weare it, and she reckon'd it
    At her liues rate.
    Laf I am sure I saw her weare it.
    Ber You are deceiu'd my Lord, she neuer saw it:
    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
    I stood ingag'd, but when I had subscrib'd
    To mine owne fortune, and inform'd her fully,
    I could not answer in that course of Honour
    2810As she had made the ouerture, she ceast
    In heauie satisfaction, and would neuer
    Receiue the Ring againe.
    Kin Platus himselfe,
    That knowes the tinct and multiplying med'cine,
    2815Hath not in natures mysterie more science,
    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,
    Confesse 'twas hers, and by what rough enforcement
    2820You got it from her. She call'd the Saints to suretie,
    That she would neuer put it from her finger,
    Vnlesse she gaue it to your selfe in bed,
    Where you haue neuer come: or sent it vs
    Vpon her great disaster.
    2825Ber She neuer saw it.
    Kin Thou speak'st it falsely: as I loue mine Honor,
    And mak'st connecturall feares to come into me,
    Which I would faine shut out, if it should proue
    That thou art so inhumane, 'twill not proue so:
    2830And yet I know not, thou didst hate her deadly,
    And she is dead, which nothing but to close
    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.
    Ber If you shall proue
    This Ring was euer hers, you shall as easie
    2840Proue that I husbanded her bed in Florence,
    Where yet she neuer was.
    Enter a Gentleman
    King I am wrap'd in dismall thinkings.
    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,
    Vanquish'd thereto by the faire grace and speech
    2850Of the poore suppliant, who by this I know
    Is heere attending: her businesse lookes in her
    With an importing visage, and she told me
    In a sweet verball breefe, it did concerne
    Your Highnesse with her selfe.
    A Letter
    Vpon his many protestations to marrie mee when his wife was
    dead, I blush to say it, he wonne me. Now is the Count Ros-
    sillion a Widdower, his vowes are forfeited to mee, and my
    honors payed to him. Hee stole from Florence, taking no
    2860 leaue, and I follow him to his Countrey for Iustice Grant
    it me, O King, in you it best lies, otherwise a seducer flou-
    rishes and a poore Maid is vndone
    Diana Capilet.
    Laf I will buy me a sonne in Law in a faire, and toule
    2865for this. Ile none of him.
    Kin The heauens haue thought well on thee Lafew
    To bring forth this discou'rie, seeke these sutors:
    Go speedily, and bring againe the Count.
    Enter Bertram
    2870I am a-feard the life of Hellen(Ladie)
    Was fowly snatcht.
    OldLa Now iustice on the doers.
    King I wonder sir, sir, wiues are monsters to you,
    And that you flye them as you sweare them Lordship,
    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,
    My suite as I do vnderstand you know,
    2880And therefore know how farre I may be pittied.
    Wid I am her Mother sir, whose age and honour
    Both suffer vnder this complaint we bring,
    And both shall cease, without your remedie.
    King Come hether Count, do you know these Wo-
    2885men?
    Ber My Lord, I neither can nor will denie,
    But that I know them, do they charge me further?
    Dia Why do you looke so strange vpon your wife?
    Ber She's none of mine my Lord.
    2890Dia If you shall marrie
    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,
    2895That she which marries you, must marrie me,
    Either both or none.
    Laf Your reputation comes too short for my daugh-
    ter, you are no husband for her.
    Ber My Lord, this is a fond and desp'rate creature,
    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.
    Kin What saist thou to her?
    2910Ber She's impudent my Lord,
    And was a common gamester to the Campe.
    Dia He do's me wrong my Lord: If I were so,
    He might haue bought me at a common price.
    Do
    Alls Well, that Ends Well 253
    Do not beleeue him. O behold this Ring,
    2915Whose high respect and rich validitie
    Did lacke a Paralell: yet for all that
    He gaue it to a Commoner a'th Campe
    If I be one.
    Coun He blushes, and 'tis hit:
    2920Of sixe preceding Ancestors that Iemme
    Confer'd by testament to'th sequent issue
    Hath it beene owed and worne. This is his wife,
    That Ring's a thousand proofes.
    King Me thought you saide
    2925You saw one heere in Court could witnesse it.
    Dia I did my Lord, but loath am to produce
    So bad an instrument, his names Parrolles
    Laf I saw the man to day, if man he bee.
    Kin Finde him, and bring him hether.
    2930Ros What of him:
    He's quoted for a most perfidious slaue
    With all the spots a'th world, taxt and debosh'd,
    Whose nature sickens: but to speake a truth,
    Am I, or that or this for what he'l vtter,
    2935That will speake any thing.
    Kin She hath that Ring of yours.
    Ros I thinke she has; certaine it is I lyk'd her,
    And boorded her i'th wanton way of youth:
    She knew her distance, and did angle for mee,
    2940Madding my eagernesse with her restraint,
    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.
    Dia I must be patient:
    You that haue turn'd off a first so noble wife,
    May iustly dyet me. I pray you yet,
    2950(Since you lacke vertue, I will loose a husband)
    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?
    2955Dian Sir much like the same vpon your finger.
    Kin Know you this Ring, this Ring was his of late.
    Dia And this was it I gaue him being a bed.
    Kin The story then goes false, you threw it him
    Out of a Casement.
    2960Dia I haue spoke the truth. Enter Parolles
    Ros My Lord, I do confesse the ring was hers.
    Kin You boggle shrewdly, euery feather starts you:
    Is this the man you speake of?
    Dia I, my Lord.
    2965Kin Tell me sirrah, but tell me true I charge you,
    Not fearing the displeasure of your master:
    Which on your iust proceeding, Ile keepe off,
    By him and by this woman heere, what know you?
    Par So please your Maiesty, my master hath bin an
    2970honourable Gentleman. Trickes hee hath had in him,
    which Gentlemen haue.
    Kin Come, come, to'th' purpose: Did hee loue this
    woman?
    Par Faith sir he did loue her, but how.
    2975Kin How I pray you?
    Par He did loue her sir, as a Gent. loues a Woman.
    Kin How is that?
    Par He lou'd her sir, and lou'd her not.
    Kin As thou art a knaue and no knaue, what an equi-
    2980uocall Companion is this?
    Par I am a poore man, and at your Maiesties com-
    mand.
    Laf Hee's a good drumme my Lord, but a naughtie
    Orator.
    2985Dian Do you know he promist me marriage?
    Par Faith I know more then Ile speake.
    Kin But wilt thou not speake all thou know'st?
    Par Yes so please your Maiesty: I did goe betweene
    them as I said, but more then that he loued her, for in-
    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
    2995speake of, therefore I will not speake what I know.
    Kin Thou hast spoken all alreadie, vnlesse thou canst
    say they are maried, but thou art too fine in thy euidence,
    therefore stand aside. This Ring you say was yours.
    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.
    Kin If it were yours by none of all these wayes,
    How could you giue it him?
    Dia I neuer gaue it him.
    Laf This womans an easie gloue my Lord, she goes
    3010off and on at pleasure.
    Kin This Ring was mine, I gaue it his first wife.
    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,
    3015Vnlesse thou telst me where thou hadst this Ring,
    Thou diest within this houre.
    Dia Ile neuer tell you.
    Kin Take her away.
    Dia Ile put in baile my liedge.
    3020Kin I thinke thee now some common Customer.
    Dia By Ioue if euer I knew man 'twas you.
    King Wherefore hast thou accusde him al this while.
    Dia Because he's guiltie, and he is not guilty:
    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.
    Kin She does abuse our eares, to prison with her.
    Dia Good mother fetch my bayle. Stay Royall sir,
    3030The Ieweller that owes the Ring is sent for,
    And he shall surety me. But for this Lord,
    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:
    Dead though she be, she feeles her yong one kicke:
    So there's my riddle, one that's dead is quicke,
    And now behold the meaning.
    Enter Hellen and Widdow
    3040Kin Is there no exorcist
    Beguiles the truer Office of mine eyes?
    Is't reall that I see?
    Hel No my good Lord,
    Y 'Tis
    254Alls Well, that Ends Well
    'Tis but the shadow of a wife you see,
    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?
    Ros If she my Liege can make me know this clearly,
    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?
    Laf Mine eyes smell Onions, I shall weepe anon:
    Good Tom Drumme lend me a handkercher.
    3060So I thanke thee, waite on me home, Ile make sport with
    thee: Let thy curtsies alone, they are scuruy ones.
    King Let vs from point to point this storie know,
    To make the euen truth in pleasure flow:
    If thou beest yet a fresh vncropped flower,
    3065Choose thou thy husband, and Ile pay thy dower.
    For I can guesse, that by thy honest ayde,
    Thou keptst a wife her selfe, thy selfe a Maide.
    Of that and all the progresse more and lesse,
    Resoluedly more leasure shall expresse:
    3070All yet seemes well, and if it end so meete,
    The bitter past, more welcome is the sweet.
    Flourish
    THe Kings a Begger, now the Play is done
    All is well ended, if this suite be wonne
    3075That you expresse Content: which we will pay
    With strife to please you, day exceeding day
    Ours be your patience then, and yours our parts
    Your gentle hands lend vs, and take our hearts Exeunt omn.
    FINIS.