Internet Shakespeare Editions

About this text

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

    Copyright Helen Ostovich and Andrew Griffin. This text may be freely used for educational, non-profit purposes; for all other uses contact the Editor.
    Author: William Shakespeare
    Editors: Andrew Griffin, Helen Ostovich
    Not Peer Reviewed

    All's Well That Ends Well (Modern)

    Enter 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 very merry, but yet she is not well. But, thanks be given, she's very well, and wants nothing i'th'world. But yet she is not well.
    If she be very well, what does she ail that she's not 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 God send her quickly.
    Enter Paroles.
    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 keep them on, have them still. -- O my knave, how does my 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 tongue shakes out his master's undoing. To say nothing, to do nothing, to know nothing, and to have nothing, 1235is to be a great part of your title, which is within a very little of nothing.
    Away, thou'rt a knave.
    You should have said, sir, 'Before a knave, th'art a knave' -- that's 'before me th'art a knave.' This had been 1240truth, sir.
    Go to, thou art a witty fool. I have found thee.
    Did you find me in yourself, sir, or were you taught to find me?
    [Paroles does not reply.]
    The search, sir, was profitable; and much fool may you find in you, even to the world's pleasure and the increase of laughter.
    A good knave, i'faith, and well fed.
    Madam, my lord will go away tonight;
    1250A very serious business calls on him.
    The great prerogative and rite of love,
    Which, as your due time claims, he does acknowledge,
    But puts it off to a compelled restraint,
    Whose want and whose delay is strewed with sweets
    1255Which they distill now in the curbèd time
    To make the coming hour o'erflow with joy,
    And pleasure drown the brim.
    What's his will else?
    That you will take your instant leave o'th'king,
    1260And make this haste as your own good proceeding,
    Strengthened with what apology you think
    May make it probable need.
    What more commands he?
    That, having this obtained, you presently
    1265Attend his further pleasure.
    In everything, I wait upon his will.
    I shall report it so.
    Exit Paroles.
    I pray you. -- Come, sirrah.
    Exit [Helen with Clown].