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- Edition: All's Well That Ends Well
All's Well That Ends Well (Modern)
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1.1
1.1.0.12Enter young Bertram, Count Roussillon, his mother [the Countess], 3Helen, [and] Lord Lafeu, all in black.
And I in going, madam, weep o'er my 8father's death anew, but I must attend his 9majesty's command, to whom I am now in ward, evermore 10in subjection.
You shall find of the King a husband, madam; 12you, sir, a father. He, that so generally is at all times good, 13must of necessity hold his virtue to you, whose 14worthiness would stir it up where it wanted rather than lack 15it where there is such abundance.
What hope is there of his majesty's amendment?
He hath abandoned his physicians, madam, 18under whose practices he hath persecuted time with hope 19and finds no other advantage in the process, but only 20the losing of hope by time.
This young gentlewoman had a father -- oh, that 22 "had", how sad a passage 'tis! -- whose skill was almost as 23great as his honesty; had it stretched so far, would have 24made nature immortal and death should have play for 25lack of work. Would for the King's sake he were li26ving! I think it would be the death of the King's disease.
How called you the man you speak of, madam?
He was famous, sir, in his profession, and it was 29his great right to be so: Gérard de Narbonne.
He was excellent indeed, madam. The King very 31lately spoke of him admiringly, and mourningly. He 32was skilful enough to have lived still, if knowledge could 33be set up against mortality.
What is it, my good lord, the King languishes 35of?
A fistula, my lord.
I heard not of it before.
I would it were not notorious. -- Was this gen39tlewoman the daughter of
Gérard de Narbonne?
His sole child, my lord, and bequeathed to my 41overlooking. I have those hopes of her good that her 42education promises; her dispositions she inherits, which 43makes fair gifts fairer. For where an unclean mind 44carries virtuous qualities, there commendations go with 45pity: they are virtues and traitors too. In her, they are 46the better for their simpleness; she derives her honesty 47and achieves her goodness.
Your commendations, madam, get from her 49tears.
'Tis the best brine a maiden can season her praise 51in. The remembrance of her father never approaches her 52heart, but the tyranny of her sorrows takes all livelihood 53from her cheek. -- No more of this, Helen, go to, no 54more, lest it be rather thought you affect a sorrow than 55to have --
I do affect a sorrow indeed, but I have it too.
Moderate lamentation is the right of the dead; 58excessive grief, the enemy to the living.
If the living be enemy to the grief, the 60excess makes it soon mortal.
Madam, I desire your holy wishes.
[To the Countess (?)]How understand we that?
Be thou blessed, Bertram, and succeed thy father
75Lafeu
He cannot want the best
77Countess
Heaven bless him.
1.1.35-- Farewell, Bertram.
[Exit the Countess.]
[To Helen] The best wishes that can be forged in your thoughts 79be servants to you. Be comfortable to my mother, your 80mistress, and make much of her.
Farewell, pretty lady. You must hold the 82credit of your father.
[Exeunt Bertram and Lafeu.]
Oh, were that all! I think not on my father
Save you, fair queen.
And you, monarch.
No.
And no.
Are you meditating on virginity?
Ay. You have some stain of soldier in you. Let 117me ask you a question. Man is enemy to virginity. 118How may we barricado it against him?
Keep him out.
But he assails and our virginity, though 121valiant, in the defence yet is weak. Unfold to us some warlike 122resistance.
There is none. Man, setting down before you, 124will undermine you and blow you up.
Bless our poor virginity from underminers 126and blowers up! Is there no military policy how 127virgins might blow up men?
Virginity being blown down, man will 129quicklier be blown up. Marry, in blowing him down 130again, with the breach yourselves made, you lose your 131city. It is not politic in the commonwealth of 132nature to preserve virginity. Loss of virginity is 133rational increase, and there was never virgin got till 134virginity was first lost. That you were made of is 135metal to make virgins. Virginity, by being once lost, 136may be ten times found; by being ever kept, it is ever 137lost. 'Tis too cold a companion. Away with't!
I will stand for't a little, though therefore I die 139a virgin.
There's little can be said in't; 'tis against the 141rule of nature. To speak on the part of virginity is 142to accuse your mothers, which is most infallible 143disobedience. He that hangs himself is a virgin: 144virginity murders itself, and should be buried in highways, 145out of all sanctified limit as a desperate offendress 146against nature. Virginity breeds mites, much like a 147cheese, consumes itself to the very paring, and so 148dies with feeding his own stomach. Besides, 149virginity is peevish, proud, idle, made of self-love, which 150is the most inhibited sin in the canon. Keep it not, 151you cannot choose but lose by't. Out with't! Within 152ten year it will make itself two, which is a goodly 153increase, and the principal itself not much the 154worse. Away with't!
How might one do, sir, to lose it to her own 156liking?
Let me see. Marry, ill, to like him that ne'er 158it likes. 'Tis a commodity will lose the gloss with lying. 159The longer kept, the less worth. Off with't while 'tis 160vendible. Answer the time of request. Virginity, 161like an old courtier, wears her cap out of fashion, richly 162suited, but unsuitable, just like the brooch and the 163toothpick, which wear not now. Your date is better in your 164pie and your porridge than in your cheek, and your 165virginity, your old virginity, is like one of our French 166withered pears. It looks ill, it eats dryly -- marry, 'tis a 167withered pear. It was formerly better, marry, yet 'tis a 168withered pear! Will you anything with it?
Not my virginity yet.
What one, i'faith?
That I wish well. 'Tis pity.
What's pity?
That wishing well had not a body in't,
191Enter Page.
192Page
Monsieur Paroles, 193my lord calls for you.
1.1.101.1[Exit.]
Little Helen, farewell. If I can remember thee, I 195will think of thee at court.
Monsieur Paroles, you were born under a 197charitable star.
Under Mars, I.
I especially think under Mars.
Why 'under' Mars?
The wars hath so kept you under that you must needs be born under Mars.
When he was predominant.
When he was retrograde, I think rather.
Why think you so?
You go so much backward when you fight.
That's for advantage.
So is running away 209when fear proposes the safety. 210But the composition that your valor and fear makes 211in you is a virtue of a good wing, and I like the 212wear well.
I am so full of businesses, I cannot answer 214thee acutely. I will return perfect courtier, in the 215which my instruction shall serve to naturalize thee, so 216thou wilt be capable of a courtier's counsel and 217understand what advice shall thrust upon thee, else thou 218diest in thine unthankfulnes and thine ignorance makes 219thee away. Farewell. When thou hast leisure, say thy 220prayers: when thou hast none, remember thy friends. 221Get thee a good husband, and use him as he uses thee. 222So, farewell.
1.1.114.1[Exit.]
Our remedies oft in ourselves do lie,
1.1.128.1Exit.
[1.2]
The Florentines and Senois are by th'ears,
2431 Lord
So 'tis reported, sir.
Nay, 'tis most credible. We here receive it
2501 Lord
His love and wisdom,
253King
He hath armed our answer,
2582 Lord
It well may serve
261King
What's he comes here.
It is the Count Roussillon, my good lord,
265King
Youth, thou bear'st thy father's face;
My thanks and duty are your majesty's.
I would I had that corporal soundness now
295Bertram
His good remembrance, sir,
Would I were with him! He would always say --
3152 Lord
You're loved, sir.
I fill a place, I know't. How long is't, Count,
320Bertram
Some six months since, my lord.
If he were living, I would try him yet.
326Bertram
Thank your majesty.
[1.3]
I will now hear: what say you of this 330gentlewoman?
Madam, the care I have had to even your 332content, I wish might be found in the calendar of my past 333endeavors, for then we wound our modesty and make 334foul the clearness of our deservings when of ourselves 335we publish them.
What does this knave here? -- [To Clown] Get you gone, 337sirrah. The complaints I have heard of you I do not all 338believe. 'Tis my slowness that I do not, for I know you 339lack not folly to commit them, and have ability enough 340to make such knaveries yours.
'Tis not unknown to you, madam, I am a poor 342fellow.
Well, sir?
No, madam, 345'tis not so well that I am poor, though many 346of the rich are damned, but if I may have your ladyship's 347good will to go to the world, Isbel the woman and I 348will do as we may.
Wilt thou needs be a beggar?
I do beg your good will in this case.
In what case?
In Isbel's case and mine own. Service is no 353heritage, and I think I shall never have the blessing of God 354till I have issue o'my body, for they say bairns are 355blessings.
Tell me thy reason why thou wilt marry?
My poor body, madam, requires it. I am driven 358on by the flesh, and he must needs go that the devil 359drives.
Is this all your worship's reason?
Faith, madam, I have other holy reasons, such as 362they are.
May the world know them?
I have been, madam, a wicked creature, as you 365and all flesh and blood are, and indeed I do marry that 366I may repent.
Thy marriage sooner than thy wickedness.
I am out o'friends, madam, and I hope to have 369friends for my wife's sake.
Such friends are thine enemies, knave.
You're shallow, madam, in great friends, for the 372knaves come to do that for me which I am aweary of. 373He that ears my land spares my team, and gives me 374leave to in the crop. If I be his cuckold he's my 375drudge. He that comforts my wife is the cherisher of 376my flesh and blood; he that cherishes my flesh and 377blood loves my flesh and blood; he that loves my flesh 378and blood is my friend. Ergo, he that kisses my wife is my 379friend. If men could be contented to be what they are, 380there were no fear in marriage, for young Charbon the 381puritan, and old Poisson the papist, howsome'er their 382hearts are severed in religion, their heads are both one. 383They may jowl horns together like any deer i'th' herd.
Wilt thou ever be a foulmouthed and 385calumnious knave?
A prophet, I, madam, and I speak the truth the 387next way:
For I the ballad will repeat,
1.3.25Your marriage comes by destiny;
Get you gone, sir. I'll talk with you more anon.
May it please you, madam, that he bid Helen 392come to you? Of her I am to speak.
[To Clown] Sirrah, tell my gentlewoman I would speak with 394her, Helen I mean.
1.3.30.1Sings.
"Was this fair face the cause," quoth she,
396"Why the Grecians sackèd Troy?
1.3.33Was this King Priam's joy?"
1.3.35With that she sighèd as she stood,
1.3.38Among nine bad, if one be good,
What? One good in ten? You corrupt the song, 403sirrah.
One good woman in ten, madam, which is a 405purifying o'th'song. Would God would serve the world so 406all the year! We'd find no fault with the tithe-woman, 407if I were the parson. One in ten, quotha? And we might 408have a good woman born but o'er every blazing star 409or at an earthquake, 'twould mend the lottery well! A 410man may draw his heart out ere a pluck one.
You'll begone, sir knave, and do as I 412command you!
That man should be at woman's command, and 414yet no hurt done! Though honesty be no puritan, yet 415it will do no hurt: it will wear the surplice of humility 416over the black gown of a big heart. I am 417going, forsooth! The business is for Helen to come hither.
Well, now.
I know, madam, you love your gentlewoman 421entirely.
Faith, I do. Her father bequeathed her to me, 423and she herself, without other advantage, may 424lawfully make title to as much love as she finds. There is 425more owing her than is paid, and more shall be paid 426her than she'll demand.
Madam, I was very late more near her 428thanI think she wished me. Alone she was, and did 429communicate to herself her own words to her 430own ears. She thought, I dare vow for her, they 431touched not any stranger sense. Her matter was, she 432loved your son. Fortune, she said, was no 433goddess, that had put such difference betwixt their two 434estates; love no god, that would not extend his might 435only where qualities were level; Dian no queen of 436virgins, that would suffer her poor knight surprised 437without rescue in the first assault or ransom 438afterward: This she delivered in the most bitter touch of 439sorrow that e'erI heard virgin exclaim in, which I held 440my duty speedily to acquaint you withal, sithence in 441the loss that may happen, it concerns you something 442to know it.
You have discharged this honestly. Keep it 444to yourself. Many likelihoods informed me of this 445before, which hung so tottering in the balance, that 446I could neither believe nor misdoubt. Pray you, 447leave me. Stall this in your bosom, and I thank 448you for your honest care. I will speak with you 449further anon.
1.3.48.1Exit Steward.
E'en so it was with me when I was young.
What is your pleasure, madam?
You know, Helen, I am a mother to you.
Mine honorable mistress.
463Countess
Nay, a mother,
478Helen
That I am not.
I say I am your mother.
480Helen
Pardon, madam,
487Countess
Nor I your mother?
You are my mother, madam! Would you were,
Yes, Helen, you might be my daughter-in-law.
513Helen
Good madam, pardon me!
Do you love my son?
515Helen
Your pardon, noble mistress!
Love you my son?
517Helen
Do not you love him, madam?
Go not about. My love hath in't a bond
522Helen
Then I confess
Had you not lately an intent, speak truly,
551Helen
Madam, I had.
552Countess
Wherefore? Tell true.
I will tell truth, by grace itself I swear!
This was your motive for Paris, was it? Speak!
My lord your son made me to think of this;
569Countess
But think you, Helen,
577Helen
There's something in't,
585Countess
Dost thou believe't?
Ay, madam, knowingly.
Why, Helen, thou shalt have my leave and love,
1.3.178.1Exeunt.
5932.1
2.1.0.1594Enter the King with divers young Lords taking leave for 595the Florentine war, [Bertram,] Count Roussillon, and 596Paroles. Flourish cornets.
[Addressing the assembled Lords] Farewell, young lords. These warlike principles
6021 Lord
'Tis our hope sir,
No, no, it cannot be. And yet my heart
Health, at your bidding, serve your majesty.
Those girls of Italy, take heed of them:
6201 and 2 Lords
Our hearts receive your warnings.
Farewell. -- [To Attendants] Come hither to me.
[To Bertram] O, my sweet lord, that you will stay behind us!
'Tis not his fault, the spark.
6242 Lord
Oh, 'tis brave wars!
Most admirable! I have seen those wars.
I am commanded here, and kept a coil with
An thy mind stand to't, 629boy, steal away bravely.
I shall stay here the forehorse to a smock,
There's honor in the theft.
635Paroles
Commit it, count.
I am your accessory, and so farewell.
637Bertram
I grow to you,
2.1.36 And our parting is a tortured body.
Farewell, captain.
6392 Lord
Sweet Monsieur Paroles.
Noble heroes, my sword and yours are kin. 641Good sparks and lustrous, a word, good metals. You 642shall find in the regiment of the Spinii one Captain 643Spurio with his cicatrice, an emblem of war, here on 644his sinister cheek. It was this very sword entrenched it. [He indicates his weapon.] 645Say to him I live, and observe his reports for me.
We shall, noble captain.
Mars dote on you for his novices!
2.1.40.1 [Exeunt 1 Lord and 2 Lord.]
Stay the king.
Use a more spacious ceremony to the noble 651lords: you have restrained yourself within the list of 652too cold an adieu. Be more expressive to them, for they 653wear themselves in the cap of the time; there do muster 654true gait; eat, speak, and move under the influence of 655the most received star; and, though the devil lead the 656measure, such are to be followed. After them, and take a 657more dilated farewell.
And I will do so.
Worthy fellows, and like to prove most 660sinewy swordsmen.
2.1.45.1Exeunt [Bertram and Paroles].
[Kneeling] Pardon, my lord, for me and for my tidings.
I'll fee thee to stand up.
[Stands]Then here's a man stands that has brought his pardon.
I would I had, so I had broke thy pate
669Lafeu
Good faith, across!
2.1.53Of your infirmity?
671King
No.
672Lafeu
Oh, will you eat
My noble grapes, an if 674my royal fox
2.1.56Could reach them. I have seen a medicine
681King
What "her" is this?
Why, Doctor She! My lord, there's one arrived
691King
Now, good Lafeu,
695Lafeu
Nay, I'll fit you,
[Lafeu goes off briefly to usher in Helen]
[Aside] Thus he his special nothing ever prologues.
[To Helen, still offstage] Nay, come your ways.
This haste hath wings indeed.
701Lafeu
Nay, come your ways,
2.1.82.1Exit.
Now, fair one, does your business follow us?
Ay, my good 708lord. Gérard de Narbonne was my father;
710King
I knew him.
The rather will I spare my praises towards him:
723King
We thank you, maiden,
My duty, then, shall pay me for my pains.
I cannot give thee less, to be called grateful.
What I can do can do no hurt to try,
I must not hear thee. Fare thee well, kind maid.
Inspirèd merit so by breath is barred.
Art thou so confident? Within what space
770Helen
The greatest grace lending grace,
Upon thy certainty and confidence,
781Helen
Tax of impudence,
Methinks in thee some blessèd spirit doth speak
If I break time, or flinch in property
Make thy demand.
803Helen
But will you make it even?
Ay, by my scepter and my hopes of help.
Then shalt thou give me with thy kingly hand
Here is my hand; the premises observed,
824[2.2]
2.2.0.1Enter Countess and Clown.
Come on, sir, I shall now put you to the height 826of your breeding.
I will show myself highly fed and lowly 828taught. I know my business is but to the court.
To the court? Why, what place make you 830special, when you put off that with such contempt? 'But to 831the court'!
Truly, madam, if God have lent a man any 833manners, he may easily put it off at court. He that cannot 834make a leg, put off 's cap, kiss his hand, and say 835nothing, has neither leg, hands, lip, nor cap; and 836indeed such a fellow, to say precisely, were not for the 837court. But, for me, I have an answer will serve all men.
Marry, that's a bountiful answer that fits all 839questions.
It is like a barber's chair that fits all buttocks: 841the pin-buttock, the quatch-buttock, the 842brawn-buttock, or any buttock.
Will your answer serve fit to all questions?
As fit as ten groats is for the hand of an 845attorney, as your French crown for your taffety punk, as 846Tib's rush for Tom's forefinger, as a pancake for Shrove 847Tuesday, a Morris for May Day, as the nail to his hole, 848the cuckold to his horn, as a scolding quean to a 849wrangling knave, as the nun's lip to the friar's mouth; 850nay, as the pudding to his skin.
Have you, I say, an answer of such fitness for 852all questions?
From below your duke to beneath your 854constable, it will fit any question.
It must be an answer of most monstrous size 856that must fit all demands.
But a trifle neither, in good faith, if the learned 858should speak truth of it. Here it is, and all that belongs 859to't. Ask me if I am a courtier; it shall do you no 860harm to learn.
To be young again, if we could! I will be a 862fool in question, hoping to be the wiser by your 864answer. I pray you, sir, are you a courtier?
Oh Lord, sir! -- There's a simple putting off. More, 866more, a hundred of them.
Sir, I am a poor friend of yours that loves you.
Oh Lord, sir! -- Thick, thick, spare not me.
I think, sir, you can eat none of this homely 870meat.
Oh Lord, sir! -- Nay, put me to't, I warrant you.
You were lately whipped, sir, as I think.
Oh Lord, sir! -- Spare not me.
Do you cry 'Oh Lord, sir!' at your whipping, and 875'Spare not me'? Indeed your 'Oh Lord, sir!' is very sequent 876to your whipping; you would answer very well to a 877whipping, if you were but bound to't.
I ne'er had worse luck in my life in my 'Oh Lord, 879sir!' I see things may serve long, but not serve ever.
I play the noble housewife with the time, to 881entertain it so merrily with
a fool.
Oh Lord, sir! -- Why there't serves well again.
An end, sir. To your business: give Helen this, [Giving him a letter]
2.2.28This is not much.
887Clown
Not much commendation to them?
Not much employment for you. You 889understand me?
Most fruitfully. I am there before my legs.
Haste you again.
2.2.31.1Exeunt.
892[2.3]
2.3.0.1Enter Bertram, Lafeu, and Paroles.
They say miracles are past, and we have our 894philosophical persons to make modern and familiar 895things supernatural and causeless. Hence is it that we 896make trifles of terrors, ensconcing ourselves into 897seeming knowledge when we should submit ourselves to 898an unknown fear.
Why, 'tis the rarest argument of wonder that 900hath shot out in our latter times.
And so 'tis.
To be relinquished of the artists --
So I say, both of Galen and Paracelsus.
Of all the learned and authentic fellows --
Right, so I say.
That gave him out incurable --
Why, there 'tis; so say I too.
Not to be helped.
Right, as 'twere a man assured of a --
Uncertain life, and sure death.
Just. You say well; so would I have said.
I may truly say it is a novelty to the world.
It is indeed. If you will have it in showing, you 914shall read it in what-do-ye-call there.
2.3.15.1[Pointing to a paper in LAFEU's possession.]
A Showing of a Heavenly Effect in an 916Earthly Actor.
That's it; I would have said the very same.
Why, your dolphin is not lustier. 'Fore me, 919I speak in respect --
Nay, 'tis strange, 'tis very strange; that is the 921brief and the tedious of it. And he's of a most 922facinerious spirit that will not acknowledge it to be the --
Very hand of heaven.
Ay, so I say.
In a most weak --
And debile minister, great power, great 927transcendence, which should indeed give us a further use to 928be made than alone the recovery of the king, as to be --
Generally thankful.
I would have said it; you say well. -- Here comes 932the king.
Lustig, as the Dutchman says! I'll like a 934maid the better whilst I have a tooth in my head. Why, 935he's able to lead her a coranto.
Mort du vinaigre! Is not this Helen?
'Fore God, I think so.
[To Attendant] Go, call before me all the lords in court. --
2.3.29.1[Exit an Attendant.]
To each of you, one fair and virtuous mistress
I'd give bay curtal and his furniture,
955King
Peruse them well:
Gentlemen, heaven hath through me restored
We understand it, and thank heaven for you.
I am a simple maid, and therein wealthiest
968King
Make choice and see.
Now, Dian, from thy altar do I fly,
And grant it.
974Helen
Thanks, sir, all the rest is mute.
I had rather be in this choice than throw 976ames-ace for my life.
[To 2 Young Lord.]The honor, sir, that flames in your fair eyes,
No better, if you please.
982Helen
My wish receive,
Do all they deny her? An they were sons 985of mine, I'd have them whipped, or I would send them 986to th' Turk to make eunuchs of.
[To 3 Young Lord] Be not afraid that I your hand should take:
These boys are boys of ice, they'll none 992have her. Sure they are bastards to the English: the 993French ne'er got 'em.
[To 4 Young Lord] You are too young, too happy, and too good
Fair one, I think not so.
There's one grape yet; I am sure thy father 998drunk wine. But if thou be'st not an ass, I am a youth 999of fourteen: I have known thee already.
[To Bertram] I dare not say I take you, but I give
Why, then, young Bertram, take her: she's thy 1004wife.
My wife, my liege? I shall beseech your highness:
1008King
Know'st thou not, Bertram,
1010Bertram
Yes, my good lord,
Thou know'st she has raised me from my 1013sickly bed.
But follows it, my lord, to bring me down
'Tis only title thou disdain'st in her, the which
I cannot love her, nor will strive to do't.
Thou wrong'st thyself if thou shouldst strive 1049to choose.
That you are well restored, my lord, I'm glad;
My honor's at the stake, which to defeat
Pardon, my gracious lord, for I submit
1077King
Take her by the hand
1081Bertram
I take her hand.
Good fortune and the favor of the king
2.3.159.1Exeunt [King, Helen, and court.]
Do you hear, monsieur? A word with you.
Your pleasure, sir.
Your lord and master did well to make his 1094recantation.
Recantation? My lord? My master?
Ay; is it not a language I speak?
A most harsh one, and not to be understood 1098without bloody succeeding. My master?
Are you companion to the Count Roussillon?
To any count, to all counts: to what is man.
To what is count's man. Count's master is of 1102another style.
You are too old, sir. Let it satisfy you, you are 1104too old.
I must tell thee, sirrah, I write man -- to which 1106title age cannot bring thee.
What I dare too well do, I dare not do.
I did think thee, for two ordinaries, to be a 1109pretty wise fellow; thou didst make tolerable vent of 1110thy travel, it might pass. Yet the scarfs and the 1111bannerets about thee did manifoldly dissuade me from 1112believing thee a vessel of too great a burden. I have now 1113found thee; when I lose thee again, I care not. Yet art 1114thou good for nothing but taking up, and that thou'rt 1115scarce worth.
Hadst thou not the privilege of antiquity 1117upon thee --
Do not plunge thyself too far in anger, lest 1119thou hasten thy trial; which if -- Lord have mercy on 1120thee for a hen! So, my good window of lattice, fare thee 1121well. Thy casement I need not open, for I look through 1122thee. Give me thy hand.
My lord, you give me most egregious indignity.
Ay, with all my heart, and thou art worthy of it.
I have not, my lord, deserved it.
Yes, good faith, ev'ry dram of it, and I will 1127not bate thee a scruple.
Well, I shall be wiser.
Ev'n as soon as thou canst, for thou hast to pull 1130at a smack o' th' contrary. If ever thou be'st bound 1131in thy scarf and beaten, thou shall find what it is to be 1132proud of thy bondage. I have a desire to hold my 1133acquaintance with thee, or rather my knowledge, that I 1134may say in the default, 'He is a man I know.'
My lord, you do me most insupportable 1136vexation.
I would it were hell-pains for thy sake and my 1138poor doing eternal; for doing I am past, as I will by 1139thee in what motion age will give me leave.
2.3.182.1Exit.
Well, thou hast a son shall take this disgrace 1141off me -- scurvy, old, filthy, scurvy lord! Well, I must 1142be patient: there is no fettering of authority. I'll beat 1143him, by my life, if I can meet him with any 1144convenience, an he were double and double a lord. I'll have 1145no more pity of his age than I would have of -- I'll 1146beat him, an if I could but meet him again.
Sirrah, your lord and master's married. There's 1149news for you. You have a new mistress.
I most unfainedly beseech your lordship to 1151make some reservation of your wrongs. He is my good 1152lord; whom I serve above is my master.
Who? God.
Ay, sir.
The devil it is, that's thy master. Why dost 1156thou garter up thy arms a' this fashion? Dost make hose 1157of thy sleeves? Do other servants so? Thou wert best set 1158thy lower part where thy nose stands. By mine honor, 1159if I were but two hours younger I'd beat thee. 1160Methink'st thou art a general offence, and every man should 1161beat thee. I think thou wast created for men to breathe 1162themselves upon thee.
This is hard and undeserved measure, my lord.
Go to, sir. You were beaten in Italy for picking 1165a kernel out of a pomegranate. You are a vagabond and 1166no true traveler. You are more saucy with lords and 1167honorable personages than the commission of your 1168birth and virtue gives you heraldry. You are not worth 1169another word, else I'd call you knave. I leave you.
Good, very good, it is so then. Good, very 1173good, let it be concealed awhile.
Undone, and forfeited to cares forever!
What's the matter, sweetheart?
Although before the solemn priest I have 1177sworn,
2.3.195 I will not bed her.
What? What, sweetheart?
Oh, my Paroles, they have married me.
France is a doghole, and it no more merits
There's letters from my mother; what 1184th'import is,
2.3.202I know not yet.
1185Paroles
Ay, that would be known.
It shall be so. I'll send her to my house,
Will this capriccio hold in thee, art sure?
Go with me to my chamber and advise me.
2.3.221.1[Exit Bertram(?)]
Why, these balls bound, there's noise in it! 'Tis hard,
2.3.225.1Exit.
1209[2.4]
2.4.0.1Enter Helen [with a letter in hand] and Clown.
My mother greets me kindly. Is she well?
She is not well, but yet she has her health. She's 1212very merry, but yet she is not well. But, thanks be 1213given, she's very well, and wants nothing i'th'world. But 1214yet she is not well.
If she be very well, what does she ail that she's 1216not very well?
Truly, she's very well indeed, but for two things.
What two things?
One, that she's not in heaven -- whither God send 1220 her quickly; the other, that she's in earth -- from whence 1221 God send her quickly.
Bless you, my fortunate lady.
I hope, sir, I have your good will to have mine 1225own good fortune.
You had my prayers to lead them on, and to 1227keep them on, have them still. -- O my knave, how does 1228my old lady?
So that you had her wrinkles and I her money, 1230I would she did as you say.
Why, I say nothing.
Marry, you are the wiser man, for many a man's 1233tongue shakes out his master's undoing. To say nothing, 1234to do nothing, to know nothing, and to have nothing, 1235is to be a great part of your title, which is within a very 1236little of nothing.
Away, thou'rt a knave.
You should have said, sir, 'Before a knave, th'art a 1239knave' -- that's 'before me th'art a knave.' This had been 1240truth, sir.
Go to, thou art a witty fool. I have found 1242thee.
Did you find me in yourself, sir, or were you 1244taught to find me?
2.4.16.1[Paroles does not reply.]
The search, sir, was profitable; and much fool 1246may you find in you, even to the world's pleasure and the 1247increase of laughter.
A good knave, i'faith, and well fed.
1258Helen
What's his will else?
That you will take your instant leave o'th'king,
1263Helen
What more commands he?
That, having this obtained, you presently
In everything, I wait upon his will.
I shall report it so.
2.4.36.1Exit Paroles.
I pray you. -- Come, sirrah.
2.4.37.1Exit [Helen with Clown].
[2.5]
But I hope your lordship thinks not him a 1271soldier.
Yes, my lord, and of very valiant approof.
You have it from his own deliverance.
And by other warranted testimony.
Then my dial goes not true; I took this lark 1276for a bunting.
I do assure you, my lord, he is very great in 1278knowledge, and accordingly valiant.
I have then sinned against his experience and 1280transgressed against his valor, and my state that way is 1281dangerous since I cannot yet find in my heart to repent. 1282Here he comes. I pray you make us friends. I will 1283pursue the amity.
[To Bertram] These things shall be done, sir.
[To Bertram] Pray you, sir, who's his tailor?
Sir!
Oh, I know him well, ay, "Sir." He, sir, 's a good 1289workman, a very good tailor.
[Aside to Paroles] Is she gone to the king?
She is.
Will she away tonight?
As you'll have her.
I have writ my letters, casketed my treasure,
A good traveler is something at the latter end 1299of a dinner, but one that lies three-thirds and uses a 1300known truth to pass a thousand nothings with should 1301be once heard and thrice beaten. God save you, 1302captain.
[To Paroles] Is there any unkindness between my lord and 1304you, monsieur?
I know not how I have deserved to run into my 1306lord's displeasure.
You have made shift to run into't, boots and 1308spurs and all, like him that leapt into the custard; and 1309out of it you'll run again, rather than suffer question 1310for your residence.
It may be you have mistaken him, my lord.
And shall do so ever, though I took him at's 1313prayers. Fare you well, my lord, and believe this of 1314me: there can be no kernel in this light nut. The soul 1315of this man is his clothes; trust him not in matter of 1316heavy consequence. I have kept of them tame and know 1317their natures. -- [To Paroles] Farewell, monsieur; I have spoken better 1318of you than you have or will to deserve at my hand, but 1319we must do good against evil.
[Exit Lafeu.]
An idle lord, I swear.
I think so.
Why, do you not know him?
Yes, I do know him well, and common speech
I have, sir, as I was commanded from you,
1330Bertram
I shall obey his will.
1345Helen
Sir, I can nothing say
Come, come, no more of that.
1348Helen
-- And ever shall,
1352Bertram
Let that go.
Pray, sir, your pardon.
Well, what would you say?
I am not worthy of the wealth I owe,
1360Bertram
What would you have?
Something, and scarce so much -- nothing indeed.
Faith, yes --
I pray you stay not, but in haste to horse.
I shall not break your bidding, good my lord.
2.5.70.1Exit [Helen with Attendant].
Go thou toward home, where I will never come
1370Paroles
Corragio!
Bravely. [Exeunt.]
13713.1
3.1.0.11372Flourish. Enter the Duke of Florence, the two French Lords, 1373with a troop of soldiers.
So that from point to point, now have you heard
13781 Lord
Holy seems the quarrel
Therefore we marvel much our cousin France
13841 Lord
Good my lord,
1392Duke
Be it his pleasure.
But I am sure the younger of our nature,
1396Duke
Welcome shall they be,
3.1.23.1Flourish. [Exeunt.]
1401[3.2]
3.2.0.1Enter Countess[, with a letter,] and Clown.
It hath happened all as I would have had it, save 1403that he comes not along with her.
By my troth I take my young lord to be a 1405very melancholy man.
By what observance, I pray you?
Why, he will look upon his boot and sing, 1408mend the ruff and sing, ask questions and sing, pick 1409his teeth and sing. I know a man that had this trick of 1410melancholy, sold a goodly manor for a song.
Let me see what he writes and when he means 1412to come.
3.2.5.1[She opens and reads the letter.]
I have no mind to Isbel since I was at court. 1414Our old lings and our Isbels o'th' country are nothing 1415like your old ling and your Isbels o'th' court. The brains 1416of my Cupid's knocked out, and I begin to love, as an 1417old man loves money, with no stomach.
What have we here?
E'en that you have there.
3.2.8.1Exit.
3.2.9.1[She reads] a letter.
3.2.111421I have sent you a daughter-in-law. She hath recovered the 1422King, and undone me: I have wedded her, not bedded her, 1423and sworn to make the "not" eternal. You shall hear I am 1424run away. Know it before the report come. If there be 1425breadth enough in the world, I will hold a long distance. My 1426duty to you. Your unfortunate son, 1427Bertram.
1428This is not well, rash and unbridled boy,
1430To pluck his indignation on thy head
Oh, madam, yonder is heavy news within 1435between two soldiers and my young lady.
What is the matter?
Nay, there is some comfort in the news, some 1438comfort. Your son will not be killed so soon as I thought 1439he would.
Why should he be killed?
So say I, madam, if he run away, as I hear he 1442does. The danger is in standing to't: that's the loss of 1443men, though it be the getting of children. Here they 1444come will tell you more. For my part I only hear your 1445son was run away.
Save you, good madam.
Madam, my lord is gone, forever gone.
Do not say so.
[To Helen] Think upon patience, pray you. -- Gentlemen,
Madam, he's gone to serve the Duke of Flo
Look on his letter, madam. Here's my passport.
3.2.31.1[She shows the letter to the Countess and reads from it.]
1464This is a dreadful sentence.
Brought you this letter, gentlemen?
Ay, madam, and for the contents' sake are sorry 1467for our pains.
[To Helen] I prithee, lady, have a better cheer.
Ay, madam.
1474Countess
And to be a soldier?
Such is his noble purpose, and, believe 't,
1478Countess
Return you thither?
Ay, madam, with the swiftest wing of speed.
Till I have no wife, I have nothing in France.
1482Countess
Find you that there?
1483Helen
Ay, madam.
'Tis but the boldness of his hand, haply, which 1485his heart was not consenting to.
Nothing in France, until he have no wife.
A servant only, and a gentleman which I 1492have sometime known.
Paroles, was it not?
14942 Gentleman
Ay, my good lady, he.
A very tainted fellow, and full of wickedness.
Indeed, good lady, the fellow has a deal of 1499that, too much, which holds him much to have.
You're welcome, gentlemen.
3.2.63The honor that he loses. More I'll entreat you
15041 Gentleman
We serve you, madam,
Not so, but as we change our courtesies.
3.2.67.1Exit [Countess with the Gentlemen].
"Till I have no wife I
have nothing in France."
3.2.98.1Exit.
1539[3.3]
3.3.0.1Flourish. Enter the Duke of Florence, [Bertram, Count of] Roussillon, 1540[with] drum and trumpets, Soldiers, [and] Paroles.
[To Bertram] The general of our horse thou art, and we,
1544Bertram
Sir, it is
1548Duke
Then go thou forth,
1551Bertram
This very day,
3.3.11.1Exeunt omnes.
1555[3.4]
3.4.0.1Enter Countess and Steward.
Alas! And would you take the letter of her?
[He reads the] letter.
I am St Jaques' pilgrim, thither gone.
Ah, what sharp stings are in her mildest words?
1579Steward
Pardon me, madam.
1583Countess
What angel shall
1602[3.5]
3.5.0.1A tucket afar off
3.5.0.21603Enter Old Widow of Florence, her daughter [Diana], 1604Violenta, and Mariana, with other 1605citizens.
They say the French count has done 1610most honorable service.
It is reported 1612that he has taken their greatest commander, 1613and that with his own hand he slew 1614the Duke's brother.
3.5.3.1[Another tucket.]
Come, let's return again, 1618and suffice ourselves with the report of it. 1619-- Well, Diana, take heed of this French earl: 1620the honor of a maid is her name, 1621and no legacy is so rich 1622as honesty.
I know that knave, hang him, one Paroles! 1627A filthy officer he is in those suggestions for the young 1628earl. Beware of them, Diana. Their promises, 1629enticements, oaths, tokens, and all these engines of lust are 1630not the things they go under. Many a maid hath been 1631seduced by them, and the misery is example that so 1632terrible shows in the wreck of maidenhood cannot, 1633for all that, dissuade succession, but that they are limed 1634with the twigs that threatens them. I hope I need 1635not to advise you further, but I hope your own grace 1636will keep you where you are, though there were no 1637further danger known but the modesty which is so 1638lost.
You shall not need to fear me.
I hope so. Look, here comes a pilgrim. I know 1642she will lie at my house; thither they send one another. 1643I'll question her. -- God save you, pilgrim. Whither are you 1644bound?
To St. Jaques le Grand.
At the St. Francis here beside the port.
Is this the way?
1649Widow
Ay, marry, is't.
3.5.12.1A march afar
1655Helen
Is it yourself?
If you shall please so, pilgrim.
I thank you, and will stay upon your leisure.
You came, I think, from France?
1659Helen
I did so.
Here you shall see a countryman of yours
1662Helen
His name, I pray you?
The Count Roussillon. Know you such a one?
But by the ear that hears most nobly of him.
1666Diana
Whatsome'er he is,
Ay, surely, mere the truth. I know his lady.
There is a gentleman that serves the count
1673Helen
What's his name?
Monsieur Paroles.
1675Helen
Oh, I believe with him.
1681Diana
Alas, poor lady!
I write good creature; wheresoe'er she is,
1687Helen
How do you mean?
1690Widow
He does, indeed,
1697Mariana
The gods forbid else.
So, now they come:
1701Helen
Which is the Frenchman?
1702Diana
He,
I like him well.
'Tis pity he is not honest. Yond's that same knave
1710Helen
Which is he?
That jackanapes with scarfs. Why is he 1712melancholy?
Perchance he's hurt i'th' battle.
Lose our drum? Well.
He's shrewdly vexed at something. Look, he 1716has spied us.
Marry, hang you!
And your courtesy, for a ring-carrier.
3.5.64.1[Exeunt Bertram, Paroles, and army.]
The troop is past. Come, pilgrim, I will bring 1720you
3.5.66Where you shall host. Of enjoined penitents
1723Helen
I humbly thank you.
1729Diana and Mariana
We'll take your offer kindly.
3.5.73.1 Exeunt.
1730[3.6]
Nay, good my lord, put him to 't. Let him 1733have his way.
If your lordship find him not a hilding, 1735hold me no more in your respect.
On my life, my lord, a bubble.
Do you think I am so far 1738deceived in him?
Believe it, my lord, in mine own direct 1740knowledge, without any malice, but to speak of him 1741as my kinsman, he's a most notable coward, an 1742infinite and endless liar, an hourly promise-breaker, the 1743owner of no one good quality worthy your lordship's 1744entertainment.
It were fit you knew him, lest reposing too 1746far in his virtue, which he hath not, he might at some 1747great and trusty business in a main danger fail 1748you.
I would I knew in what particular action to try 1750him.
None better than to let him fetch off his 1752drum, which you hear him so confidently 1753undertake to do.
I, with a troop of Florentines, will suddenly 1755surprize him. Such I will have whom I am sure he knows 1756not from the enemy. We will bind and hoodwink 1757him so that he shall suppose no other but that he is 1758carried into the leaguer of the adversaries when we bring 1759him to our own tents. Be but your lordship present 1760at his examination. If he do not, for the promise of his 1761life and in the highest compulsion of base fear, offer to 1762betray you and deliver all the intelligence in his power 1763against you, and that with the divine forfeit of his 1764soul upon oath, never trust my judgment in 1765anything.
Oh, for the love of laughter, let him fetch his 1767drum! He says he has a stratagem for 't. When your 1768lordship sees the bottom of this success in 't, and to 1769what metal this counterfeit lump of ore will be 1770melted if you give him not John Drum's entertainment, 1771your inclining cannot be removed. Here he comes.
[Aside to Bertram] Oh, for the love of laughter, hinder not the 1774honor of his design! -- [Aloud] Let him fetch off his drum in any 1775hand.
How now, monsieur? This drum sticks 1777sorely in your disposition.
A pox on 't, let it go! 'Tis but a drum.
But a drum! Is't but a drum? A drum so 1780lost? There was excellent command, to charge in with 1781our horse upon our own wings and to rend our own 1782soldiers.
That was not to be blamed in the command 1784of the service. It was a disaster of war that Caesar 1785himself could not have prevented, if he had been there to 1786command.
Well, we cannot greatly condemn our 1788success. Some dishonor we had in the loss of that drum, 1789but it is not to be recovered.
It might have been recovered.
It might, but it is not now.
It is to be recovered. But that the merit of 1793service is seldom attributed to the true and exact 1794performer, I would have that drum or another, or hic 1795jacet.
Why, if you have a stomach, to't, monsieur. If 1797you think your mystery in stratagem can bring this 1798instrument of honor again into his native quarter, be 1799magnanimous in the enterprise and go on. I will grace 1800the attempt for a worthy exploit. If you speed well in 1801it, the duke shall both speak of it and extend to you 1802what further becomes his greatness, even to the utmost 1803syllable of your worthiness.
By the hand of a soldier I will undertake it.
But you must not now slumber in it.
I'll about it this evening, and I will presently 1807pen down my dilemmas, encourage myself in my 1808certainty, put myself into my mortal preparation 1809-and by midnight look to hear further from me.
May I be bold to acquaint his grace you are 1811gone about it?
I know not what the success will be, my lord, 1813but the attempt I vow.
I know th'art valiant, 1815and to the possibility of thy soldiership, 1816will subscribe for thee. Farewell.
I love not many words.
3.6.27.1Exit.
No more than a fish loves water. Is not this 1819a strange fellow, my lord, that so confidently seems to 1820undertake this business, which he knows is not to be 1821done, damns himself to do, and dares better be damned 1822than to do 't?
You do not know him, my lord, as we do. 1824 Certain it is that he will steal himself into a man's 1825favor, and for a week escape a great deal of 1826discoveries, but when you find him out, you have him ever 1827after.
Why, do you think he will make no deed at 1829all of this that so seriously he does address himself 1830unto?
None in the world, but return with an 1832invention, and clap upon you two or three probable lies. 1833But we have almost embossed him. You shall see his fall 1834tonight, for indeed he is not for your lordship's 1835respect.
We'll make you some sport with the fox 1837ere we case him. He was first smoked by the old Lord 1838Lafeu. When his disguise and he is parted, tell me what 1839a sprat you shall find him, which you shall see this 1840very night.
I must go look my twigs. 1842He shall be caught.
[To 1 Lord] Your brother he shall go along with me.
As 't please your lordship. I'll leave you.
3.6.35.1[Exit.]
Now will I lead you to the house, and show you
18471 Lord
But you say she's honest.
That's all the fault. I spoke with her but once,
18541 Lord
With all my heart, my lord.
3.6.43.1Exeunt.
1855[3.7]
3.7.0.1Enter Helen, and Widow.
If you misdoubt me that I am not she,
Though my estate be fallen, I was well born,
1863Helen
Nor would I wish you.
1869Widow
I should believe you,
1872Helen
Take this purse of gold,
Now I see the bottom of your purpose.
You see it lawful then. It is no more
1896Widow
I have yielded.
1904Helen
Why then, to night
3.7.48.1[Exeunt.]
19104[.1]
He can come no other way but by this 1914hedge-corner. When you sally upon him, speak what terrible 1915language you will; though you understand it not your 1916selves, no matter, for we must not seem to understand 1917him, unless someone among us, whom we must 1918produce for an interpreter.
Good captain, let me be th'interpreter.
Art not acquainted with him? Knows he not 1921thy voice?
No sir, I warrant you.
But what linsey-woolsey hast thou to speak to us 1924again?
E'en such as you speak to me.
He must think us some band of strangers, 1927i'th'adversary's entertainment. Now, he hath a smack of all 1928neighboring languages; therefore, we must every one 1929be a man of his own fancy, not to know what we speak 1930one to another; so we seem to know is to know straight 1931our purpose: choughs' language. Gabble enough and 1932good enough. -- [To Soldier 1] As for you, interpreter, you must seem 1933very politic. -- [To all] But couch, ho! Here he comes, to 1934beguile two hours in a sleep, and then to return and swear 1935the lies he forges.
[Call or horn marking the hour] Ten o'clock: within these three hours 'twill 1938be time enough to go home. What shall I say I have 1939done? It must be a very plausive invention that carries 1940it: they begin to smoke me, and disgraces have of 1941late knocked too often at my door. I find my tongue 1942is too foolhardy, but my heart hath the fear of Mars 1943before it, and of his creatures, not daring the reports of 1944my tongue.
[Aside] This is the first truth that e'er thine own tongue 1946was guilty of.
What the devil should move me to undertake 1948the recovery of this drum, being not ignorant of the 1949impossibility, and knowing I had no such purpose? I 1950must give myself some hurts, and say I got them in 1951exploit. Yet slight ones will not carry it: they will say, 1952"Came you off with so little?" And great ones I dare not 1953give. Wherefore what's the instance? Tongue, I must put 1954you into a butter-woman's mouth and buy myself 1955another of Bajazeth's mule if you prattle me into these 1956perils.
[Aside] Is it possible he should know what he is, and 1958be that he is?
I would the cutting of my garments would serve 1960the turn, or the breaking of my Spanish sword.
[Aside] We cannot afford you so.
Or the baring of my beard, and to say it was in 1963stratagem.
[Aside] 'Twould not do.
Or to drown my clothes, and say I was stripped.
[Aside] Hardly serve.
Though I swore I leapt from the window of the 1968citadel --
[Aside] How deep?
Thirty fathom.
[Aside] Three great oaths would scarce make that 1972be believed.
I would I had any drum of the enemy's; I 1974would swear I recovered it.
[Aside] You shall hear one anon.
A drum now of the enemy's --
Throca movousus, cargo, cargo, cargo.
Cargo, cargo, cargo, villianda par corbo, cargo.
Oh, ransom, ransom!
[They blindfold him with his own scarf.]
1981Do not hide mine eyes.
I know you are the Musco's regiment,
Boskos vauvado. I understand thee, and can speak 1989thy tongue. Kerelybonto. Sir, betake thee to thy faith, for 1990seventeen poniards are at thy bosom.
Oh!
Oh, pray, pray, pray! 1993Manka reuania dulche.
Oscorbidulchos voliuorco.
The general is content to spare thee yet,
1999Paroles
Oh, let me live,
20031 Soldier as "Interpreter"
But wilt thou faithfully?
If I do not, damn me.
Acordo linta.
2006Come on; thou are granted space.
4.1.46.1Exeunt [with Paroles].
Go tell the Count Roussillon and my brother
20112 Soldier
Captain I will.
A will betray us all unto ourselves.
20142 SOLDIER
So I will sir.
Till then I'll keep him dark and safely locked.
[4.2]
They told me that your name was Fontybell.
No, my good lord, Diana.
2021Bertram
Titled goddess,
She then was honest.
2031Bertram
So should you be.
2032Diana
No.
2035Bertram
No more o'that!
2040Diana
Ay, so you serve us
2044Bertram
How have I sworn?
'Tis not the many oaths that makes the truth,
2056Bertram
Change it, change it!
I see that men make ropes in such a scar
I'll lend it thee, my dear, but have no power
2067Diana
Will you not, my Lord?
It is an honor 'longing to our house,
2072Diana
Mine honor's such a ring.
2079Bertram
Here, take my ring!
When midnight comes, knock at my 2083chamber window;
A heaven on earth I have won by wooing thee.
4.2.66.1[Exit.]
For which live long to thank both heaven and me.
4.2.76.1Exit.
2106[4.3]
You have not given him his mother's letter?
I have delivered it an hour since. There is 2110something in't that stings his nature, for on the reading it 2111he changed almost into another man.
He has much worthy blame laid upon him 2113for shaking off so good a wife and so sweet a lady.
Especially he hath incurred the everlasting 2115displeasure of the king, who had even tuned his bounty 2116to sing happiness to him. I will tell you a thing, but 2117you shall let it dwell darkly with you.
When you have spoken it, 'tis dead, and I am 2119the grave of it.
He hath perverted a young gentlewoman 2121here in Florence, of a most chaste renown, and this night 2122he fleshes his will in the spoil of her honor. He hath 2123given her his monumental ring, and thinks himself 2124made in the unchaste composition.
Now God delay our rebellion! As we are 2126ourselves, what things are we?
Merely our own traitors. And, as in the 2128common course of all treasons, we still see them reveal 2129themselves till they attain to their abhorred ends, so 2130he that in this action contrives against his own 2131nobility, in his proper stream o'erflows himself.
Is it not meant damnable in us to be 2133trumpeters of our unlawful intents? We shall not then have 2134his company tonight?
Not till after midnight, for he is dieted to 2136his hour.
That approaches apace. I would gladly have 2138him see his company anatomized, that he might take 2139a measure of his own judgments, wherein so curiously 2140he had set this counterfeit.
We will not meddle with him till he come, 2142for his presence must be the whip of the other.
In the meantime, what hear you of these 2144wars?
I hear there is an overture of peace.
Nay, I assure you a peace concluded.
What will Count Roussillon do then? Will 2148he travel higher, or return again into France?
I perceive by this demand, you are not 2150altogether of his counsel.
Let it be forbid, sir. So should I be a great 2152deal of his act.
Sir, his wife some two months since fled 2154from his house. Her pretence is a pilgrimage to Saint 2155Jaques le Grand, which holy undertaking, with most 2156austere sanctimony, she accomplished; and there residing, 2157the tenderness of her nature became as a prey to her 2158grief; in fine, made a groan of her last breath, and now 2159she sings in heaven.
How is this justified?
The stronger part of it by her own letters, 2162which makes her story true, even to the point of her 2163death. Her death itself, which could not be her office 2164to say is come, was faithfully confirmed by the rector 2165of the place.
Hath the count all this intelligence?
Ay, and the particular confirmations, 2168point from point, to the full arming of the verity.
I am heartily sorry that he'll be glad of 2170this.
How mightily sometimes we make us 2172comforts of our losses.
And how mightily some other times we 2174drown our gain in tears. The great dignity that his 2175valor hath here acquired for him shall at home be 2176encountered with a shame as ample.
The web of our life is of a mingled yarn, 2178good and ill together. Our virtues would be proud if 2179our faults whipped them not, and our crimes would 2180despair if they were not cherished by our virtues.
2183Messenger
He met the duke in the street sir, of whom he 2184hath taken a solemn leave. His lordship will next 2185morning for France. The duke hath offered him 2186letters of commendations to the king.
They shall be no more than needful there, 2188if they were more than they can commend.
They cannot be too sweet for the king's 2191tartness. Here's his lordship now. --How now, my lord, 2192is't not after midnight?
I have tonight dispatched sixteen businesses, a 2194month's length apiece. By an abstract of success: I 2195have congied with the duke, done my adieu with his 2196nearest, buried a wife, mourned for her, writ to my 2197lady mother I am returning, entertained my convoy, and, 2198between these main parcels of dispatch, affected 2199many nicer needs. The last was the greatest, but that I have 2200not ended yet.
If the business be of any difficulty, and this 2202morning your departure hence, it requires haste of your 2203lordship.
I mean the business is not ended, as fearing 2205to hear of it hereafter. But shall we have this dialogue 2206between the fool and the soldier? Come, bring 2207forth this counterfeit module; he's deceived me like a 2208double-meaning prophesier.
[To soldiers] Bring him forth.
4.3.34.1[Exeunt some soldiers.]
No matter: his heels have deserved it in 2212usurping his spurs so long. How does he carry himself?
I have told your lordship already: the 2214stocks carry him. But to answer you as you would be 2215understood, he weeps like a wench that had shed her 2216milk. He hath confessed himself to Morgan, whom he 2217supposes to be a friar, from the time of his remembrance 2218to this very instant disaster of his setting i'th'stocks. 2219And what think you he hath confessed?
Nothing of me, has'a?
His confession is taken, and it shall be read 2222to his face; if your lordship be in't, as I believe you 2223are, you must have the patience to hear it.
[Aside] A plague upon him! Muffled! He can say nothing 2226of me. -- Hush, hush!
[Aside to the others] Hoodman comes. [Aloud] Portotartarossa.
4.3.4122281 Soldier as "Interpreter"[To Paroles] He calls for the tortures. What will you say 2229without 'em?
I will confess what I know without constraint. 2231If ye pinch me like a pasty, I can say no more.
Boblibindo chicurmurco.
22341 Soldier as "Interpreter"You are a merciful general. -- Our general 2235bids you answer to what I shall ask you out of a note.
2236Paroles
And truly, as I hope to live.
22371 Soldier as "Interpreter"[Pretends to read] "First, demand of him how many horse the duke 2238is strong." What say you to that?
Five or six thousand, but very weak and 2240unserviceable: the troops are all scattered, and the 2241commanders very poor rogues, upon my reputation and 2242credit, and as I hope to live.
2243 1 Soldier as "Interpreter"Shall I set down your answer so?
Do; I'll take the sacrament on't, how and which 2245way you will.
[Aside to the Lords] All's one to him. What a past-saving slave is this!
[Aside to Bertram and 2 Lord] You're deceived, my lord, this is Monsieur 2248Paroles, the gallant militarist -- that was his own phrase -- 2249that had the whole theoric of war in the knot of his 2250scarf, and the practice in the chape of his dagger.
[Aside to Bertram and 1 Lord] I will never trust a man again for keeping 2252his sword clean, nor believe he can have everything 2253in him by wearing his apparel neatly.
22541 Soldier as "Interpreter"Well, that's set down.
'Five or six thousand horse,' I said -- I will say true -- 2256'or thereabouts,' set down, for I'll speak truth.
[Aside to Bertram and 2 Lord] He's very near the truth in this.
[Aside to the Lords] But I con him no thanks for't, in the nature he 2259delivers it.
"Poor rogues," I pray you say.
22611 Soldier as "Interpreter"Well, that's set down.
I humbly thank you, sir. A truth's a truth: the 2263rogues are marvelous poor.
22641 Soldier as "Interpreter"[Pretends to read] "Demand of him of what strength they are 2265afoot." What say you to that?
By my troth, sir, if I were to live this present 2267hour, I will tell true. Let me see: Spurio, a hundred and 2268fifty; Sebastian, so many; Corambus, so many; Jaques, so 2269many; Guiltian, Cosmo, Lodowick and Gratii, two 2270hundred fifty each; mine own company, Chitopher, 2271Vaumond, Bentii, two hundred fifty each. So that the muster 2272file, rotten and sound, upon my life, amounts not to 2273fifteen thousand poll, half of the which dare not shake 2274the snow from off their cassocks least they shake 2275themselves to pieces.
What shall be done to him?
Nothing but let him have thanks. -- [To 1 Soldier] Demand 2278of him my condition, and what credit I have with the 2279duke.
Well, that's set down. [Pretends to read] 'You shall demand of 2281him whether one Captain Dumaine be i'th'camp, a 2282Frenchman, what his reputation is with the duke, what 2283his valor, honesty, and expertness in wars, or 2284whether he thinks it were not possible with well-weighing 2285sums of gold to corrupt him to a revolt.' What say you 2286to this? What do you know of it?
I beseech you let me answer to the particular of 2288the inter'gatories. Demand them singly.
22891 Soldier as "Interpreter"
Do you know this Captain Dumaine?
I know him; a was a botcher's prentice in Paris, 2291from whence he was whipped for getting the sheriff's fool 2292with child, a dumb innocent that could not say him 2293nay.
4.3.68.1[1 Lord moves to strike Paroles]
[Aside to 1 Lord] Nay, by your leave, hold your hands, though I 2295know his brains are forfeit to the next tile that falls.
22961 Soldier as "Interpreter"
Well, is this captain in the Duke of Florence's 2297camp?
Upon my knowledge he is, and lousy.
[To Bertram] Nay, look not so upon me. We shall hear of 2300your lordship anon.
23011 Soldier as "Interpreter"
What is his reputation with the duke?
The duke knows him for no other but a poor 2303officer of mine, and writ to me this other day to turn 2304him out o'th'band. I think I have his letter in my 2305pocket.
23061 Soldier as "Interpreter"
Marry, we'll search.
In good sadness, I do not know; either it is there 2308or it is upon a file with the duke's other letters in my 2309tent.
23101 Soldier as "Interpreter"
Here 'tis, here's a paper. Shall I read it to you?
I do not know if it be it or no.
[Aside to the Lords] Our interpreter does it well.
[Aside to Bertram] Excellently.
23141 Soldier as "Interpreter"
[Reads] Dian, the count's a fool, and full of gold.
That is not the duke's letter, sir; that is an 2316advertisement to a proper maid in Florence, one Diana, to 2317take heed of the allurement of one Count Roussillon, a 2318foolish idle boy, but for all that very ruttish. I pray you, 2319sir, put it up again.
23201 Soldier as "Interpreter"
Nay, I'll read it first, by your favor.
My meaning in't, I protest, was very honest in the 2322behalf of the maid, for I knew the young count to be a 2323dangerous and lascivious boy who is a whale to 2324virginity, and devours up all the fry it finds.
[Aside] Damnable both-sides rogue!
23261 Soldier as "Interpreter"
[Reads the letter.] "When he swears oaths, bid him drop gold, and 2327take it;
[Aside] He shall be whipped through the army with this 2338rhyme in's forehead.
[Aside to Bertram] This is your devoted friend, sir, the manifold 2340linguist, and the armipotent soldier.
[Aside] I could endure anything before but a cat, and 2342now he's a cat to me.
23431 Soldier as "Interpreter"
I perceive, sir, by your general's looks, we shall 2344be fain to hang you.
My life, sir, in any case! Not that I am afraid to 2346die, but, that my offences being many, I would repent 2347out the remainder of nature. Let me live, sir, in a 2348dungeon, i'th'stocks, or anywhere, so I may live.
23491 Soldier as "Interpreter"
We'll see what may be done, so you confess 2350freely; therefore, once more to this Captain Dumaine. 2351You have answered to his reputation with the duke, and 2352to his valor. What is his honesty?
He will steal, sir, an egg out of a cloister. For 2354rapes and ravishments, he parallels Nessus. He professes 2355not keeping of oaths -- in breaking 'em he is stronger than 2356Hercules. He will lie, sir, with such volubility, that you 2357would think truth were a fool. Drunkenness is his best 2358virtue, for he will be swine-drunk, and in his sleep he 2359does little harm, save to his bedclothes about him; 2360but they know his conditions, and lay him in straw. I 2361have but little more to say, sir, of his honesty. He has 2362every thing that an honest man should not have; what an 2363honest man should have, he has nothing.
[Aside tp Bertram] I begin to love him for this.
[Aside to 1 Lord] For this description of thine honesty? A pox 2366upon him for me; he's more and more a cat.
23671 Soldier as "Interpreter"
What say you to his expertness in war?
Faith, sir, he's led the drum before the 2369English tragedians. To belie him I will not, and more of his 2370soldiership I know not, except in that country, he had 2371the honor to be the officer at a place there called Mile 2372End, to instruct for the doubling of files. I would do the 2373man what honor I can, but of this I am not certain.
[Aside] He hath out-villained villainy so far that the 2375rarity redeems him.
[Aside] A pox on him; he's a cat still.
23771 Soldier as "Interpreter"
His qualities being at this poor price, I need 2378not to ask you if gold will corrupt him to revolt.
Sir, for a cardecu he will sell the fee-simple of 2380his salvation, the inheritance of it, and cut th'entail from 2381all remainders, and a perpetual succession for it 2382perpetually.
What's his brother, the other Captain Dumaine?
[Aside to 1 Lord] Why does he ask him of me?
23851 Soldier as "Interpreter"
What's he?
E'en a crow a'th'same nest: not altogether so 2387great as the first in goodness, but greater a great deal in 2388evil. He excels his brother for a coward, yet his brother 2389is reputed one of the best that is. In a retreat, he 2390outruns any lackey. Marry, in coming on, he has the 2391cramp.
23921 Soldier as "Interpreter"
If your life be saved, will you undertake to betray 2393the Florentine?
Ay, and the captain of his horse, Count Roussillon.
23951 Soldier as "Interpreter"
I'll whisper with the general and know his 2396pleasure.
I'll no more drumming; a plague of all drums! 2398Only to seem to deserve well, and to beguile the 2399supposition of that lascivious young boy the count, have I run 2400into this danger. Yet who would have suspected an 2401ambush where I was taken?
24021 Soldier as "Interpreter"
There is no remedy, sir, but you must die. The 2403general says you that have so traitorously discovered 2404the secrets of your army, and made such pestiferous 2405reports of men very nobly held, can serve the world for 2406no honest use. Therefore you must die. -- Come 2407headsman, off with his head.
Oh Lord, sir! Let me live, or let me see my death.
That shall you, and take your leave of all your 2410friends.
4.3.121.1[He removes Paroles' blindfold.]
2412Bertram
Good morrow, noble captain.
God bless you, Captain Paroles.
God save you, noble captain.
Captain, what greeting will you to my Lord 2416Lafeu? I am for France.
Good captain, will you give me a copy of 2418the sonnet you writ to Diana in behalf of the Count 2419Roussillon? And I were not a very coward, I'd compel 2420it of you, but fare you well.
4.3.126.1Exeunt [Bertram, 1 Lord, and 2 Lord].
You are undone, captain, all but your scarf 2422that has a knot on't yet.
Who cannot be crushed with a plot?
If you could find out a country where but 2425women were that had received so much shame, you 2426might begin an impudent nation. Fare ye well, sir, I 2427am for France too. We shall speak of you there.
4.3.129.1Exit [with other soldiers].
Yet am I thankful. If my heart were great
4.3.140.1Exit.
[4.4]
That you may well perceive I have 2441not wronged you,
2455Widow
Gentle madam,
2458Helen
Nor you, mistress
2471Diana
Let death and honesty
2474Helen
Yet I pray you:
4.4.36.1Exeunt.
[4.5]
No, no, no, your son was misled with a 2483snipped-taffeta fellow there, whose villainous saffron would have 2484made all the unbaked and doughy youth of a nation in his 2485color. Your daughter-in-law had been alive at this 2486hour, and your son here at home, more advanced 2487by the king than by that red-tailed humble-bee I speak 2488of.
I would I had not known him; it was the death 2490of the most virtuous gentlewoman that ever nature 2491had praise for creating. If she had partaken of my flesh 2492and cost me the dearest groans of a mother, I could 2493not have owed her a more rooted love.
'Twas a good lady, 'twas a good lady. We 2495may pick a thousand salads ere we light on such 2496another herb.
Indeed, sir, she was the sweet marjoram of the 2498salad, or rather the herb of grace.
They are not herbs, you knave, they are 2500nose-herbs.
I am no great Nebuchadnezzar, sir: I have 2502not much skill in grace.
Whether dost thou profess thyself -- a knave 2504or a fool?
A fool, sir, at a woman's service, and a knave at a 2506man's.
Your distinction?
I would cozen the man of his wife, and do his 2509service.
So you were a knave at his service indeed.
And I would give his wife my bauble, sir, to do 2512her service.
I will subscribe for thee: thou art both knave 2514and fool.
At your service.
No, no, no.
Why, sir, if I cannot serve you, I can serve as 2518great a prince as you are.
Who's that? A Frenchman?
Faith, sir, a has an English [mane or mien], but his 2521phys'nomy is more hotter in France than there.
What prince is that?
The black prince, sir, alias the prince of 2524darkness, alias the devil.
Hold thee, there's my purse. I give thee not this 2526to suggest thee from thy master thou talk'st of; serve 2527him still.
I am a woodland fellow, sir, that always loved 2529a great fire, and the master I speak of ever keeps a good 2530fire. But sure he is the prince of the world; let his 2531nobility remain in's court. I am for the house with the 2532narrow gate, which I take to be too little for pomp to 2533enter. Some that humble themselves may, but the 2534many will be too chill and tender, and they'll be for the 2535flowery way that leads to the broad gate and the great 2536fire.
Go thy ways; I begin to be a weary of thee, 2538and I tell thee so before because I would not fall out 2539with thee. Go thy ways; let my horses be well looked 2540too, without any tricks.
If I put any tricks upon 'em, sir, they shall be 2542jades' tricks, which are their own right by the law of 2543nature.
4.5.24.1Exit.
A shrewd knave, and an unhappy.
So a is. My lord that's gone made himself 2546much sport out of him. By his authority he remains 2547here, which he thinks is a patent for his sauciness, 2548and indeed he has no pace, but runs where he will.
I like him well; 'tis not amiss. And I was about 2550to tell you, since I heard of the good lady's death, and 2551that my lord your son was upon his return home, I 2552moved the king my master to speak in the behalf of 2553my daughter, which in the minority of them both, his 2554majesty out of a self-gracious remembrance did first 2555propose. His highness hath promised me to do it, and 2556to stop up the displeasure he hath conceived against 2557your son there is no fitter matter. How does your 2558ladyship like it?
With very much content, my lord, and I wish 2560it happily effected.
His highness comes post from Marseille, of as 2562able body as when he numbered thirty. A will be here 2563to morrow, or I am deceived by him that in such 2564intelligence hath seldom failed.
It rejoices me that I hope I shall see him ere I 2566die. I have letters that my son will be here tonight; 2567I shall beseech your lordship to remain with me till 2568they meet together.
Madam, I was thinking with what manners I 2570might safely be admitted.
You need but plead your honorable 2572privilege.
Lady, of that I have made a bold charter, but 2574I thank my God it holds yet.
O madam, yonder's my lord your son with 2577a patch of velvet on's face. Whether there be a scar 2578under't or no, the velvet knows, but 'tis a goodly patch 2579of velvet; his left cheek is a cheek of two pile and a 2580half, but his right cheek is worn bare.
But it is your carbonadoed face.
Faith, there's a dozen of 'em with delicate 2589fine hats and most courteous feathers which bow the 2590head and nod at every man.
25925.[1]
But this exceeding posting day and night
And you.
Sir, I have seen you in the court of France.
I have been sometimes there.
I do presume, sir, that you are not fall'n
2613Gentleman
What's your will?
That it will please you
2618Austringer
The King's not here.
Not here, sir?
2620Austringer
Not, indeed.
2623Widow
Lord, how we lose our pains!
All's well that ends well yet,
Marry, as I take it, to Roussillon,
2629Helen
I do beseech you, sir,
2636Austringer
This I'll do for you.
And you shall find yourself to be well thanked,
[5.2]
Good Master Lavatch, give my Lord Lafeu this 2642letter. I have ere now, sir, been better known to you, when 2643I have held familiarity with fresher clothes, but I am 2644now, sir, muddied in Fortune's mood, and smell somewhat 2645strong of her strong displeasure.
Truly, Fortune's displeasure is but sluttish if it 2647smell so strongly as thou speakst of: I will henceforth 2648eat no fish of Fortune's butt'ring. Prithee allow the 2649wind.
Nay, you need not to stop your nose, sir. ; I spake 2651but by a metaphor.
Indeed, sir, if your metaphor stink, I will stop 2653my nose, or against any man's metaphor. Prithee get thee 2654further.
Pray you, sir, deliver me this paper.
Foh! Prithee stand away. A paper from Fortune's 2657close-stool to give to a nobleman? Look, here he 2658comes himself.
Here is a purr of Fortune's, sir, or of Fortune's 2661cat, but not a musk cat, that has fallen into the unclean 2662fishpond of her displeasure, and, as he says, is muddied 2663withal. Pray you, sir, use the carp as you may, for he 2664looks like a poor, decayed, ingenious, foolish, rascally 2665knave. I do pity his distress in my smiles of comfort, 2666and leave him to your lordship.
5.2.7.1[Exit.]
My lord, I am a man whom Fortune hath 2668cruelly scratched.
And what would you have me to do? 'Tis too 2670late to pare her nails now. Wherein have you played 2671the knave with Fortune that she should scratch you, who 2672of herself is a good lady and would not have knaves 2673thrive long under her? There's a cardecu for you. [Giving him a coin] Let the 2674justices make you and Fortune friends; I am for other 2675business.
I beseech your honor to hear me one single 2677word.
You beg a single penny more. Come, you shall 2679ha't. Save your word. [Gives him another coin]
My name, my good lord, is Paroles.
You beg more than word, then. Cox my 2682passion! Give me your hand. How does your drum?
Oh, my good lord, you were the first that found 2684me.
Was I, in sooth? And I was the first that lost thee.
It lies in you, my lord, to bring me in some grace, 2687for you did bring me out.
Out upon thee, knave! Dost thou put upon me 2689at once both the office of God and the devil? One brings 2690thee in grace, and the other brings thee out. [Trumpets sound.] The King's 2691coming -- I know by his trumpets. Sirrah, inquire 2692further after me. I had talk of you last night. Though you 2693are a fool and a knave, you shall eat. Go to, follow.
I praise God for you.
[Exeunt.]
[5.3]
5.3.0.12695Flourish. Enter King, [Countess], Lafeu, the two French 2696Lords, with Attendant [Gentlemen].
We lost a jewel of her, and our esteem
2701Countess
'Tis past, my liege,
2706King
My honored lady,
2710Lafeu
This I must say,
2719King
Praising what is lost
2728 Attendant Gentleman
I shall, my liege.
5.3.27.1[Exit.]
[To Lafeu] What says he to your daughter? 2730Have you spoke?
All that he is hath reference to your highness.
Then shall we have a match. I have letters 2733sent me,
5.3.31That sets him high in fame.
2735Lafeu
He looks well on't.
I am not a day of season,
2741Bertram
My high-repented blames,
2743King
All is whole.
2750Bertram
Admiringly, my liege, at first
2762King
Well excused.
Come on, my son, in whom my house's name
5.3.752783That she may quickly come. [Bertram removes a ring from his finger and gives it to Lafeu.] By my old beard
2788Bertram
Hers it was not.
Now pray you let me see it. For mine eye,
2796Bertram
My gracious sovereign,
2799Countess
Son, on my life,
2802Lafeu
I am sure I saw her wear it.
You are deceived, my lord, she never saw it.
2813King
Plutus himself,
2825Bertram
She never saw it.
Thou speakst it falsely, as I love mine honor,
2838Bertram
If you shall prove
5.3.126.1[Exit Bertram under guard.]
[Aside] I'm wrapped in dismal thinkings.
2844Austringer
Gracious sovereign,
Upon his many protestations to marry me when his wife was 2857dead, I blush to say it, he won me. Now is the Count 2858Roussillon a widower, his vows are forfeited to me, and my 2859honor's paid to him. He stole from Florence, taking no 2860leave, and I follow him to his country for justice. Grant 2861it me, O King! In you it best lies. Otherwise a seducer 2862flourishes and a poor maid is undone. 2863Diana Capilet.
I will buy me a son-in-law in a fair, and toll 2865for this. I'll none of him.
The heavens have thought well on thee, Lafeu,
2872Countess
Now justice on the doers.
I wonder, sir, sith wives are monsters to you,
I am, my lord, a wretched Florentine,
I am her mother, sir, whose age and honor
Come hither, count. Do you know these 2885women?
My lord, I neither can nor will deny
[To Bertram] Why do you look so strange upon your wife?
[To the King] She's none of mine, my lord.
2890Diana
If you shall marry,
[To Bertram] Your reputation comes too short for my 2898daughter. You are no husband for her!
[To Lafeu] My lord, this is a fond and desp'rate creature
Sir, for my thoughts, you have them ill to friend
2906Diana
Good my lord,
What sayst thou to her?
2910Bertram
She's impudent, my lord,
He does me wrong, my lord. If I were so,
2919Countess
He blushes, and 'tis hit.
2924King
[To Diana] Methought you said
I did, my lord, but loath am to produce
I saw the man today, if man he be.
Find him, and bring him hither.
[Exit an Attendant Gentleman.]
2930Bertram
What of him?
2936King
She hath that ring of yours.
I think she has; certain it is I liked her,
5.3.2052943Her [inf'nite cunning or insuite coming or insuite cunning or infinite conning] with her modern grace
2947Diana
I must be patient.
2953Bertram
I have it not.
What ring was yours, I pray you?
Sir, much like the same upon your finger.
Know you this ring? This ring was his of late.
And this was it I gave him, being abed.
The story then goes false. You threw it him
2960Diana
I have spoke the truth.
5.3.219.1Enter Paroles.
My lord, I do confess the ring was hers.
You boggle shrewdly. Every feather starts you.
2964Diana
Ay, my lord.
[To Paroles] Tell me, sirrah, but tell me true, I charge you,
So please your majesty, my master hath been an 2970honorable gentleman. Tricks he hath had in him, 2971which gentlemen have.
Come, come, to th' purpose. Did he love this 2973woman?
Faith, sir, he did love her, but how?
How, I pray you?
He did love her, sir, as a gentleman loves a woman.
How is that?
He loved her, sir, and loved her not.
As thou art a knave and no knave! What an 2980equivocal companion is this?
I am a poor man and at your majesty's 2982command.
He's a good drum, my lord, but a naughty 2984orator.
Do you know he promised me marriage?
Faith, I know more than I'll speak.
But wilt thou not speak all thou knowst?
Yes, so please your majesty: I did go between 2989them as I said, but more than that, he loved her, for 2990indeed he was mad for her, and talked of Satan, and of 2991limbo, and of furies, and I know not what. Yet I was in 2992that credit with them at that time that I knew of their 2993going to bed, and of other motions, as promising her 2994marriage, and things which would derive me ill will to 2995speak of. Therefore I will not speak what I know.
Thou hast spoken all already, unless thou canst 2997say they are maried, but thou art too fine in thy evidence; 2998therefore, stand aside. -- [To Diana] This ring, you say, was yours?
Ay, my good lord.
Where did you buy it? Or who gave it you?
It was not given me, nor I did not buy it.
Who lent it you?
3003Diana
It was not lent me neither.
Where did you find it then?
3005Diana
I found it not.
If it were yours by none of all these ways,
3008Diana
I never gave it him.
This woman's an easy glove, my lord: she goes 3010off and on at pleasure.
This ring was mine. I gave it his first wife.
It might be yours or hers for ought I know.
Take her away. I do not like her now.
3017Diana
I'll never tell you.
Take her away.
3019Diana
I'll put in bail, my liege.
I think thee now some common customer.
By Jove, if ever I knew man, 'twas you.
Wherefore hast thou accused him all this while?
Because he's guilty, and he is not guilty.
[She gestures to Lafeu or to the King.]
She does abuse our ears. To prison with her.
Good mother, fetch my bail.
[Exit the Widow.]
Stay, royal sir.
3039Enter Helen and [the] Widow.
3040King
Is there no exorcist
3043Helen
No, my good lord,
3046Bertram
Both, both. Oh, pardon!
Oh, my good lord, when I was like this maid,
If she, my liege, can make me know this clearly,
If it appear not plain and prove untrue,
Mine eyes smell onions; I shall weep anon.
5.3.2923059[To Paroles] Good Tom Drum, lend me a handkercher. 3060So, I thank thee. Wait on me home; I'll make sport with 3061thee. Let thy curtsies alone -- they are scurvy ones.
Let us from point to point this story know,
3073The King's a beggar now the play is done.
3074All is well ended, if this suit be won:
3075That you express content -- which we will pay
3076With strife to please you, day exceeding day.
3077Ours be your patience then, and yours our parts:
3078Your gentle hands lend us, and take our hearts.
5.3.6.1Exeunt omnes.