All’s Well That Ends Well

ACT 1

Scene 1

Enter young Bertram Count of Rossillion, his mother
the Countess, and Helen, Lord Lafew, all in black.

COUNTESS

In delivering my son from me, I bury a second
husband.

BERTRAM

And I in going, madam, weep o’er my
father’s death anew; but I must attend his Majesty’s
55command, to whom I am now in ward, evermore
in subjection.

LAFEW

You shall find of the King a husband, madam;
you, sir, a father. He that so generally is at all times
good must of necessity hold his virtue to you,
1010whose worthiness would stir it up where it wanted
rather than lack it where there is such abundance.

COUNTESS

What hope is there of his Majesty’s
amendment?

LAFEW

He hath abandoned his physicians, madam,
1515under whose practices he hath persecuted time
with hope, and finds no other advantage in the
process but only the losing of hope by time.

COUNTESS

This young gentlewoman had a father—O,
that “had,” how sad a passage ’tis!—whose skill
2020was almost as great as his honesty; had it stretched
so far, would have made nature immortal, and
death should have play for lack of work. Would for
the King’s sake he were living! I think it would be
the death of the King’s disease.

LAFEW

2525How called you the man you speak of,
madam?

COUNTESS

He was famous, sir, in his profession, and it
was his great right to be so: Gerard de Narbon.

LAFEW

He was excellent indeed, madam. The King
3030very lately spoke of him admiringly, and mourningly.
He was skillful enough to have lived still, if
knowledge could be set up against mortality.

BERTRAM

What is it, my good lord, the King languishes
of?

LAFEW

3535A fistula, my lord.

BERTRAM

I heard not of it before.

LAFEW

I would it were not notorious.—Was this gentlewoman
the daughter of Gerard de Narbon?

COUNTESS

His sole child, my lord, and bequeathed to
4040my overlooking. I have those hopes of her good
that her education promises. Her dispositions she
inherits, which makes fair gifts fairer; for where an
unclean mind carries virtuous qualities, there
commendations go with pity—they are virtues and
4545traitors too. In her they are the better for their simpleness.
She derives her honesty and achieves her
goodness.

LAFEW

Your commendations, madam, get from her
tears.

COUNTESS

5050’Tis the best brine a maiden can season her
praise in. The remembrance of her father never
approaches her heart but the tyranny of her sorrows
takes all livelihood from her cheek.—No
more of this, Helena. Go to. No more, lest it be
5555rather thought you affect a sorrow than to have—

HELEN

I do affect a sorrow indeed, but I have it too.

LAFEW

Moderate lamentation is the right of the dead,
excessive grief the enemy to the living.

COUNTESS

If the living be enemy to the grief, the
6060excess makes it soon mortal.

BERTRAM

Madam, I desire your holy wishes.

LAFEW

How understand we that?

COUNTESS

Be thou blessed, Bertram, and succeed thy father
In manners as in shape. Thy blood and virtue
6565Contend for empire in thee, and thy goodness
Share with thy birthright. Love all, trust a few,
Do wrong to none. Be able for thine enemy
Rather in power than use, and keep thy friend
Under thy own life’s key Be checked for silence,
7070But never taxed for speech. What heaven more will,
That thee may furnish and my prayers pluck down,
Fall on thy head. To Lafew. Farewell, my lord.
’Tis an unseasoned courtier. Good my lord,
Advise him.

LAFEW

7575He cannot want the best that shall
Attend his love.

COUNTESS

Heaven bless him.—Farewell, Bertram.

BERTRAM

The best wishes that can be forged in your
thoughts be servants to you.Countess exits.
8080To Helen. Be comfortable to my mother, your
mistress, and make much of her.

LAFEW

Farewell, pretty lady. You must hold the credit
of your father.

Bertram and Lafew exit.

HELEN

O, were that all! I think not on my father,
8585And these great tears grace his remembrance more
Than those I shed for him. What was he like?
I have forgot him. My imagination
Carries no favor in ’t but Bertram’s.
I am undone. There is no living, none,
9090If Bertram be away. ’Twere all one
That I should love a bright particular star
And think to wed it, he is so above me.
In his bright radiance and collateral light
Must I be comforted, not in his sphere.
9595Th’ ambition in my love thus plagues itself:
The hind that would be mated by the lion
Must die for love. ’Twas pretty, though a plague,
To see him every hour, to sit and draw
His archèd brows, his hawking eye, his curls
100100In our heart’s table—heart too capable
Of every line and trick of his sweet favor.
But now he’s gone, and my idolatrous fancy
Must sanctify his relics. Who comes here?

Enter Parolles.

One that goes with him. I love him for his sake,
105105And yet I know him a notorious liar,
Think him a great way fool, solely a coward.
Yet these fixed evils sit so fit in him
That they take place when virtue’s steely bones
Looks bleak i’ th’ cold wind. Withal, full oft we see
110110Cold wisdom waiting on superfluous folly.

PAROLLES

Save you, fair queen.

HELEN

And you, monarch.

PAROLLES

No.

HELEN

And no.

PAROLLES

115115Are you meditating on virginity?

HELEN

Ay. You have some stain of soldier in you; let
me ask you a question. Man is enemy to virginity.
How may we barricado it against him?

PAROLLES

Keep him out.

HELEN

120120But he assails, and our virginity, though
valiant in the defense, yet is weak. Unfold to us
some warlike resistance.

PAROLLES

There is none. Man setting down before you
will undermine you and blow you up.

HELEN

125125Bless our poor virginity from underminers and
blowers-up! Is there no military policy how virgins
might blow up men?

PAROLLES

Virginity being blown down, man will
quicklier be blown up. Marry, in blowing him
130130down again, with the breach yourselves made you
lose your city. It is not politic in the commonwealth
of nature to preserve virginity. Loss of virginity
is rational increase, and there was never
virgin got till virginity was first lost. That you
135135were made of is metal to make virgins. Virginity by
being once lost may be ten times found; by being
ever kept, it is ever lost. ’Tis too cold a companion.
Away with ’t.

HELEN

I will stand for ’t a little, though therefore I
140140die a virgin.

PAROLLES

There’s little can be said in ’t. ’Tis against the
rule of nature. To speak on the part of virginity is
to accuse your mothers, which is most infallible
disobedience. He that hangs himself is a virgin;
145145virginity murders itself and should be buried in
highways out of all sanctified limit as a desperate
offendress against nature. Virginity breeds mites,
much like a cheese, consumes itself to the very
paring, and so dies with feeding his own stomach.
150150Besides, virginity is peevish, proud, idle, made of
self-love, which is the most inhibited sin in the
canon. Keep it not; you cannot choose but lose by
’t. Out with ’t! Within ten year it will make itself
two, which is a goodly increase, and the principal
155155itself not much the worse. Away with ’t!

HELEN

How might one do, sir, to lose it to her own
liking?

PAROLLES

Let me see. Marry, ill, to like him that ne’er
it likes. ’Tis a commodity will lose the gloss with
160160lying; the longer kept, the less worth. Off with ’t
while ’tis vendible; answer the time of request. Virginity,
like an old courtier, wears her cap out of
fashion, richly suited but unsuitable, just like the
brooch and the toothpick, which wear not now.
165165Your date is better in your pie and your porridge
than in your cheek. And your virginity, your old
virginity, is like one of our French withered pears:
it looks ill, it eats dryly; many, ’tis a withered pear.
It was formerly better, marry, yet ’tis a withered
170170pear. Will you anything with it?

HELEN

Not my virginity, yet—
There shall your master have a thousand loves,
A mother, and a mistress, and a friend,
A phoenix, captain, and an enemy,
175175A guide, a goddess, and a sovereign,
A counselor, a traitress, and a dear;
His humble ambition, proud humility,
His jarring concord, and his discord dulcet,
His faith, his sweet disaster, with a world
180180Of pretty, fond adoptious christendoms
That blinking Cupid gossips. Now shall he—
I know not what he shall. God send him well.
The court’s a learning place, and he is one—

PAROLLES

What one, i’ faith?

HELEN

185185That I wish well. ’Tis pity—

PAROLLES

What’s pity?

HELEN

That wishing well had not a body in ’t
Which might be felt, that we, the poorer born,
Whose baser stars do shut us up in wishes,
190190Might with effects of them follow our friends
And show what we alone must think, which never
Returns us thanks.

Enter Page.

PAGE

Monsieur Parolles, my lord calls for you.

PAROLLES

Little Helen, farewell. If I can remember
195195thee, I will think of thee at court.

HELEN

Monsieur Parolles, you were born under a
charitable star.

PAROLLES

Under Mars, I.

HELEN

I especially think under Mars.

PAROLLES

200200Why under Mars?

HELEN

The wars hath so kept you under that you
must needs be born under Mars.

PAROLLES

When he was predominant.

HELEN

When he was retrograde, I think rather.

PAROLLES

205205Why think you so?

HELEN

You go so much backward when you fight.

PAROLLES

That’s for advantage.

HELEN

So is running away, when fear proposes the
safety. But the composition that your valor and
210210fear makes in you is a virtue of a good wing, and I
like the wear well.

PAROLLES

I am so full of businesses I cannot answer
thee acutely. I will return perfect courtier, in the
which my instruction shall serve to naturalize
215215thee, so thou wilt be capable of a courtier’s counsel
and understand what advice shall thrust upon
thee, else thou diest in thine unthankfulness, and
thine ignorance makes thee away. Farewell. When
thou hast leisure, say thy prayers; when thou hast
220220none, remember thy friends. Get thee a good husband,
and use him as he uses thee. So, farewell.

Parolles and Page exit.

HELEN

Our remedies oft in ourselves do lie
Which we ascribe to heaven. The fated sky
Gives us free scope, only doth backward pull
225225Our slow designs when we ourselves are dull.
What power is it which mounts my love so high,
That makes me see, and cannot feed mine eye?
The mightiest space in fortune nature brings
To join like likes and kiss like native things.
230230Impossible be strange attempts to those
That weigh their pains in sense and do suppose
What hath been cannot be. Who ever strove
To show her merit that did miss her love?
The King’s disease—my project may deceive me,
235235But my intents are fixed and will not leave me.

She exits.

Scene 2

Flourish cornets. Enter the King of France with letters,
two Lords, and divers Attendants.

KING

The Florentines and Senoys are by th’ ears,
Have fought with equal fortune, and continue
A braving war.

FIRST LORD

So ’tis reported, sir.

KING

5240Nay, ’tis most credible. We here receive it
A certainty vouched from our cousin Austria,
With caution that the Florentine will move us
For speedy aid, wherein our dearest friend
Prejudicates the business and would seem
10245To have us make denial.

FIRST LORD

His love and wisdom,
Approved so to your Majesty, may plead
For amplest credence.

KING

He hath armed our answer,
15250And Florence is denied before he comes.
Yet for our gentlemen that mean to see
The Tuscan service, freely have they leave
To stand on either part.

SECOND LORD

It well may serve
20255A nursery to our gentry, who are sick
For breathing and exploit.

Enter Bertram, Lafew, and Parolles.

KING

What’s he comes here?

FIRST LORD

It is the Count Rossillion, my good lord,
Young Bertram.

KING

25260Youth, thou bear’st thy father’s face.
Frank nature, rather curious than in haste,
Hath well composed thee. Thy father’s moral parts
Mayst thou inherit too. Welcome to Paris.

BERTRAM

My thanks and duty are your Majesty’s.

KING

30265I would I had that corporal soundness now
As when thy father and myself in friendship
First tried our soldiership. He did look far
Into the service of the time and was
Discipled of the bravest. He lasted long,
35270But on us both did haggish age steal on
And wore us out of act. It much repairs me
To talk of your good father. In his youth
He had the wit which I can well observe
Today in our young lords; but they may jest
40275Till their own scorn return to them unnoted
Ere they can hide their levity in honor.
So like a courtier, contempt nor bitterness
Were in his pride or sharpness; if they were,
His equal had awaked them, and his honor,
45280Clock to itself, knew the true minute when
Exception bid him speak, and at this time
His tongue obeyed his hand. Who were below him
He used as creatures of another place
And bowed his eminent top to their low ranks,
50285Making them proud of his humility,
In their poor praise he humbled. Such a man
Might be a copy to these younger times,
Which, followed well, would demonstrate them now
But goers backward.

BERTRAM

55290His good remembrance, sir,
Lies richer in your thoughts than on his tomb.
So in approof lives not his epitaph
As in your royal speech.

KING

Would I were with him! He would always say—
60295Methinks I hear him now; his plausive words
He scattered not in ears, but grafted them
To grow there and to bear. “Let me not live”—
This his good melancholy oft began
On the catastrophe and heel of pastime,
65300When it was out—“Let me not live,” quoth he,
“After my flame lacks oil, to be the snuff
Of younger spirits, whose apprehensive senses
All but new things disdain, whose judgments are
Mere fathers of their garments, whose constancies
70305Expire before their fashions.” This he wished.
I, after him, do after him wish too,
Since I nor wax nor honey can bring home,
I quickly were dissolvèd from my hive
To give some laborers room.

SECOND LORD

75310You’re lovèd, sir.
They that least lend it you shall lack you first.

KING

I fill a place, I know ’t.—How long is ’t, count,
Since the physician at your father’s died?
He was much famed.

BERTRAM

80315Some six months since, my lord.

KING

If he were living, I would try him yet.—
Lend me an arm.—The rest have worn me out
With several applications. Nature and sickness
Debate it at their leisure. Welcome, count.
85320My son’s no dearer.

BERTRAM

Thank your Majesty.

They exit. Flourish.

Scene 3

Enter Countess, Steward, and Fool.

COUNTESS

I will now hear. What say you of this
gentlewoman?

STEWARD

Madam, the care I have had to even your
325content I wish might be found in the calendar of
5my past endeavors, for then we wound our modesty
and make foul the clearness of our deservings
when of ourselves we publish them.

COUNTESS

What does this knave here? To Fool. Get
330you gone, sirrah. The complaints I have heard of
10you I do not all believe. ’Tis my slowness that I do
not, for I know you lack not folly to commit them
and have ability enough to make such knaveries
yours.

FOOL

335’Tis not unknown to you, madam, I am a poor
15fellow.

COUNTESS

Well, sir.

FOOL

No, madam, ’tis not so well that I am poor,
though many of the rich are damned. But if I may
340have your Ladyship’s good will to go to the world,
20Isbel the woman and I will do as we may.

COUNTESS

Wilt thou needs be a beggar?

FOOL

I do beg your good will in this case.

COUNTESS

In what case?

FOOL

345In Isbel’s case and mine own. Service is no heritage,
25and I think I shall never have the blessing of
God till I have issue o’ my body, for they say bairns
are blessings.

COUNTESS

Tell me thy reason why thou wilt marry.

FOOL

350My poor body, madam, requires it. I am driven
30on by the flesh, and he must needs go that the devil
drives.

COUNTESS

Is this all your Worship’s reason?

FOOL

Faith, madam, I have other holy reasons, such
355as they are.

COUNTESS

35May the world know them?

FOOL

I have been, madam, a wicked creature, as you
and all flesh and blood are, and indeed I do marry
that I may repent.

COUNTESS

360Thy marriage sooner than thy wickedness.

FOOL

40I am out o’ friends, madam, and I hope to have
friends for my wife’s sake.

COUNTESS

Such friends are thine enemies, knave.

FOOL

You’re shallow, madam, in great friends, for the
365knaves come to do that for me which I am aweary
45of. He that ears my land spares my team and gives
me leave to in the crop; if I be his cuckold, he’s my
drudge. He that comforts my wife is the cherisher
of my flesh and blood; he that cherishes my flesh
370and blood loves my flesh and blood; he that loves
50my 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, there were no fear in
marriage, for young Charbon the Puritan and old
375Poysam the Papist, howsome’er their hearts are
55severed in religion, their heads are both one; they
may jowl horns together like any deer i’ th’ herd.

COUNTESS

Wilt thou ever be a foul-mouthed and
calumnious knave?

FOOL

380A prophet I, madam, and I speak the truth the
60next way:
Sings.For I the ballad will repeat
Which men full true shall find:
Your marriage comes by destiny;
385Your cuckoo sings by kind.

COUNTESS

65Get you gone, sir. I’ll talk with you more
anon.

STEWARD

May it please you, madam, that he bid Helen
come to you. Of her I am to speak.

COUNTESS

390Sirrah, tell my gentlewoman I would speak
70with her—Helen, I mean.

FOOL sings

“Was this fair face the cause,” quoth she,
“Why the Grecians sackèd Troy?
Fond done, done fond.
395Was this King Priam’s joy?”
75With that she sighèd as she stood,
With that she sighèd as she stood,
And gave this sentence then:
“Among nine bad if one be good,
400Among nine bad if one be good,
80There’s yet one good in ten.”

COUNTESS

What, one good in ten? You corrupt the
song, sirrah.

FOOL

One good woman in ten, madam, which is a
405purifying o’ th’ song. Would God would serve the
85world so all the year! We’d find no fault with the
tithe-woman if I were the parson. One in ten,
quoth he? An we might have a good woman born
but or every blazing star or at an earthquake,
410’twould mend the lottery well. A man may draw his
90heart out ere he pluck one.

COUNTESS

You’ll be gone, sir knave, and do as I command
you!

FOOL

That man should be at woman’s command, and
415yet no hurt done! Though honesty be no Puritan,
95yet it will do no hurt; it will wear the surplice of
humility over the black gown of a big heart. I am
going, forsooth. The business is for Helen to come
hither.

He exits.

COUNTESS

420Well, now.

STEWARD

100I know, madam, you love your gentlewoman
entirely.

COUNTESS

Faith, I do. Her father bequeathed her to
me, and she herself, without other advantage, may
425lawfully make title to as much love as she finds.
105There is more owing her than is paid, and more
shall be paid her than she’ll demand.

STEWARD

Madam, I was very late more near her than I
think she wished me. Alone she was and did communicate
430to herself her own words to her own
110ears; she thought, I dare vow for her, they touched
not any stranger sense. Her matter was she loved
your son. Fortune, she said, was no goddess, that
had put such difference betwixt their two estates;
435Love no god, that would not extend his might only
115where qualities were level; Dian no queen of virgins,
that would suffer her poor knight surprised
without rescue in the first assault or ransom afterward.
This she delivered in the most bitter touch
440of sorrow that e’er I heard virgin exclaim in, which
120I held my duty speedily to acquaint you withal,
sithence in the loss that may happen it concerns
you something to know it.

COUNTESS

You have discharged this honestly. Keep it
445to yourself. Many likelihoods informed me of this
125before, which hung so tott’ring in the balance that
I could neither believe nor misdoubt. Pray you
leave me. Stall this in your bosom, and I thank you
for your honest care. I will speak with you further
450anon.Steward exits.

Enter Helen.

Aside.
130Even so it was with me when I was young.
If ever we are nature’s, these are ours. This thorn
Doth to our rose of youth rightly belong.
Our blood to us, this to our blood is born.
455It is the show and seal of nature’s truth,
135Where love’s strong passion is impressed in youth.
By our remembrances of days foregone,
Such were our faults, or then we thought them none.
Her eye is sick on ’t, I observe her now.

HELEN

460What is your pleasure, madam?

COUNTESS

140You know, Helen, I am a mother to you.

HELEN

Mine honorable mistress.

COUNTESS

Nay, a mother.
Why not a mother? When I said “a mother,”
465Methought you saw a serpent. What’s in “mother”
145That you start at it? I say I am your mother
And put you in the catalogue of those
That were enwombèd mine. ’Tis often seen
Adoption strives with nature, and choice breeds
470A native slip to us from foreign seeds.
150You ne’er oppressed me with a mother’s groan,
Yet I express to you a mother’s care.
God’s mercy, maiden, does it curd thy blood
To say I am thy mother? What’s the matter,
475That this distempered messenger of wet,
155The many-colored Iris, rounds thine eye?
Why? That you are my daughter?

HELEN

That I am not.

COUNTESS

I say I am your mother.

HELEN

480Pardon, madam.
160The Count Rossillion cannot be my brother.
I am from humble, he from honored name;
No note upon my parents, his all noble.
My master, my dear lord he is, and I
485His servant live and will his vassal die.
165He must not be my brother.

COUNTESS

Nor I your mother?

HELEN

You are my mother, madam. Would you were—
So that my lord your son were not my brother—
490Indeed my mother! Or were you both our mothers,
170I care no more for than I do for heaven,
So I were not his sister. Can ’t no other
But, I your daughter, he must be my brother?

COUNTESS

Yes, Helen, you might be my daughter-in-law.
495God shield you mean it not! “Daughter” and “mother”
175So strive upon your pulse. What, pale again?
My fear hath catched your fondness! Now I see
The mystery of your loneliness and find
Your salt tears’ head. Now to all sense ’tis gross:
500You love my son. Invention is ashamed
180Against the proclamation of thy passion
To say thou dost not. Therefore tell me true,
But tell me then ’tis so, for, look, thy cheeks
Confess it th’ one to th’ other, and thine eyes
505See it so grossly shown in thy behaviors
185That in their kind they speak it. Only sin
And hellish obstinacy tie thy tongue
That truth should be suspected. Speak. Is ’t so?
If it be so, you have wound a goodly clew;
510If it be not, forswear ’t; howe’er, I charge thee,
190As heaven shall work in me for thine avail,
To tell me truly.

HELEN

Good madam, pardon me.

COUNTESS

Do you love my son?

HELEN

515Your pardon, noble mistress.

COUNTESS

195Love you my son?

HELEN

Do not you love him, madam?

COUNTESS

Go not about. My love hath in ’t a bond
Whereof the world takes note. Come, come, disclose
520The state of your affection, for your passions
200Have to the full appeached.

HELEN , kneeling

Then I confess
Here on my knee before high heaven and you
That before you and next unto high heaven
525I love your son.
205My friends were poor but honest; so ’s my love.
Be not offended, for it hurts not him
That he is loved of me. I follow him not
By any token of presumptuous suit,
530Nor would I have him till I do deserve him,
210Yet never know how that desert should be.
I know I love in vain, strive against hope,
Yet in this captious and intenible sieve
I still pour in the waters of my love
535And lack not to lose still. Thus, Indian-like,
215Religious in mine error, I adore
The sun that looks upon his worshipper
But knows of him no more. My dearest madam,
Let not your hate encounter with my love
540For loving where you do; but if yourself,
220Whose agèd honor cites a virtuous youth,
Did ever in so true a flame of liking
Wish chastely and love dearly, that your Dian
Was both herself and Love, O then give pity
545To her whose state is such that cannot choose
225But lend and give where she is sure to lose;
That seeks not to find that her search implies,
But riddle-like lives sweetly where she dies.

COUNTESS

Had you not lately an intent—speak truly—
550To go to Paris?

HELEN

230Madam, I had.

COUNTESS

Wherefore?
Tell true.

HELEN , standing

I will tell truth, by grace itself I swear.
555You know my father left me some prescriptions
235Of rare and proved effects, such as his reading
And manifest experience had collected
For general sovereignty; and that he willed me
In heedfull’st reservation to bestow them
560As notes whose faculties inclusive were
240More than they were in note. Amongst the rest
There is a remedy, approved, set down,
To cure the desperate languishings whereof
The King is rendered lost.

COUNTESS

565This was your motive for Paris, was it? Speak.

HELEN

245My lord your son made me to think of this;
Else Paris, and the medicine, and the King
Had from the conversation of my thoughts
Haply been absent then.

COUNTESS

570But think you, Helen,
250If you should tender your supposèd aid,
He would receive it? He and his physicians
Are of a mind: he that they cannot help him,
They that they cannot help. How shall they credit
575A poor unlearnèd virgin, when the schools
255Emboweled of their doctrine have left off
The danger to itself?

HELEN

There’s something in ’t
More than my father’s skill, which was the great’st
580Of his profession, that his good receipt
260Shall for my legacy be sanctified
By th’ luckiest stars in heaven; and would your
Honor
But give me leave to try success, I’d venture
585The well-lost life of mine on his Grace’s cure
265By such a day, an hour.

COUNTESS

Dost thou believe ’t?

HELEN

Ay, madam, knowingly.

COUNTESS

Why, Helen, thou shalt have my leave and love,
590Means and attendants, and my loving greetings
270To those of mine in court. I’ll stay at home
And pray God’s blessing into thy attempt.
Be gone tomorrow, and be sure of this:
What I can help thee to thou shalt not miss.

They exit.

ACT 2

Scene 1

Flourish cornets. Enter the King, attended, with divers
young Lords, taking leave for the Florentine war;
Bertram Count Rossillion, and Parolles.

KING

595Farewell, young lords. These warlike principles
Do not throw from you.—And you, my lords,
farewell.
Share the advice betwixt you. If both gain all,
5The gift doth stretch itself as ’tis received
600And is enough for both.

FIRST LORD

’Tis our hope, sir,
After well-entered soldiers, to return
And find your Grace in health.

KING

10No, no, it cannot be. And yet my heart
605Will not confess he owes the malady
That doth my life besiege. Farewell, young lords.
Whether I live or die, be you the sons
Of worthy Frenchmen. Let higher Italy—
15Those bated that inherit but the fall
610Of the last monarchy—see that you come
Not to woo honor but to wed it. When
The bravest questant shrinks, find what you seek,
That fame may cry you loud. I say farewell.

FIRST LORD

20Health at your bidding serve your Majesty!

KING

615Those girls of Italy, take heed of them.
They say our French lack language to deny
If they demand. Beware of being captives
Before you serve.

LORDS

25Our hearts receive your warnings.

KING

620Farewell.—Come hither to me.

The King speaks to Attendants, while Bertram,
Parolles, and other Lords come forward.

FIRST LORD , to Bertram

O my sweet lord, that you will stay behind us!

PAROLLES

’Tis not his fault, the spark.

SECOND LORD

O, ’tis brave wars.

PAROLLES

30Most admirable. I have seen those wars.

BERTRAM

625I am commanded here and kept a coil
With “Too young,” and “The next year,” and “’Tis
too early.”

PAROLLES

An thy mind stand to ’t, boy, steal away bravely.

BERTRAM

35I shall stay here the forehorse to a smock,
630Creaking my shoes on the plain masonry
Till honor be bought up, and no sword worn
But one to dance with. By heaven, I’ll steal away!

FIRST LORD

There’s honor in the theft.

PAROLLES

40Commit it, count.

SECOND LORD

635I am your accessory. And so, farewell.

BERTRAM

I grow to you, and our parting is a tortured
body.

FIRST LORD

Farewell, captain.

SECOND LORD

45Sweet Monsieur Parolles.

PAROLLES

640Noble heroes, my sword and yours are kin.
Good sparks and lustrous, a word, good metals.
You shall find in the regiment of the Spinii one
Captain Spurio with his cicatrice, an emblem of
50war, here on his sinister cheek. It was this very
645sword entrenched it. Say to him I live, and observe
his reports for me.

FIRST LORD

We shall, noble captain.

PAROLLES

Mars dote on you for his novices.
Lords exit.
55To Bertram. What will you do?

BERTRAM

650Stay the King.

PAROLLES

Use a more spacious ceremony to the noble
lords. You have restrained yourself within the list
of too cold an adieu. Be more expressive to them,
60for they wear themselves in the cap of the time;
655there do muster true gait; eat, speak, and move
under the influence of the most received star, and,
though the devil lead the measure, such are to be
followed. After them, and take a more dilated
65farewell.

BERTRAM

660And I will do so.

PAROLLES

Worthy fellows, and like to prove most
sinewy swordmen.

Bertram and Parolles exit.Enter Lafew, to the King.

LAFEW , kneeling

Pardon, my lord, for me and for my tidings.

KING

70I’ll fee thee to stand up.

LAFEW , standing

665Then here’s a man stands that has brought his
pardon.
I would you had kneeled, my lord, to ask me mercy,
And that at my bidding you could so stand up.

KING

75I would I had, so I had broke thy pate
670And asked thee mercy for ’t.

LAFEW

Good faith, across.
But, my good lord, ’tis thus: will you be cured
Of your infirmity?

KING

80No.

LAFEW

675O, will you eat
No grapes, my royal fox? Yes, but you will
My noble grapes, an if my royal fox
Could reach them. I have seen a medicine
85That’s able to breathe life into a stone,
680Quicken a rock, and make you dance canary
With sprightly fire and motion, whose simple touch
Is powerful to araise King Pippen, nay,
To give great Charlemagne a pen in ’s hand
90And write to her a love line.

KING

685What “her” is this?

LAFEW

Why, Doctor She. My lord, there’s one arrived,
If you will see her. Now, by my faith and honor,
If seriously I may convey my thoughts
95In this my light deliverance, I have spoke
690With one that in her sex, her years, profession,
Wisdom, and constancy hath amazed me more
Than I dare blame my weakness. Will you see her—
For that is her demand—and know her business?
100That done, laugh well at me.

KING

695Now, good Lafew,
Bring in the admiration, that we with thee
May spend our wonder too, or take off thine
By wond’ring how thou took’st it.

LAFEW

105Nay, I’ll fit you,
700And not be all day neither.

He goes to bring in Helen.

KING

Thus he his special nothing ever prologues.

Enter Helen.

LAFEW , to Helen

Nay, come your ways.

KING

This haste hath wings indeed.

LAFEW

110Nay, come your ways.
705This is his Majesty. Say your mind to him.
A traitor you do look like, but such traitors
His Majesty seldom fears. I am Cressid’s uncle
That dare leave two together. Fare you well.

He exits.

KING

115Now, fair one, does your business follow us?

HELEN

710Ay, my good lord,
Gerard de Narbon was my father,
In what he did profess well found.

KING

I knew him.

HELEN

120The rather will I spare my praises towards him.
715Knowing him is enough. On ’s bed of death
Many receipts he gave me, chiefly one
Which, as the dearest issue of his practice,
And of his old experience th’ only darling,
125He bade me store up as a triple eye,
720Safer than mine own two, more dear. I have so,
And hearing your high Majesty is touched
With that malignant cause wherein the honor
Of my dear father’s gift stands chief in power,
130I come to tender it and my appliance
725With all bound humbleness.

KING

We thank you, maiden,
But may not be so credulous of cure,
When our most learnèd doctors leave us and
135The congregated college have concluded
730That laboring art can never ransom nature
From her inaidible estate. I say we must not
So stain our judgment or corrupt our hope
To prostitute our past-cure malady
140To empirics, or to dissever so
735Our great self and our credit to esteem
A senseless help when help past sense we deem.

HELEN

My duty, then, shall pay me for my pains.
I will no more enforce mine office on you,
145Humbly entreating from your royal thoughts
740A modest one to bear me back again.

KING

I cannot give thee less, to be called grateful.
Thou thought’st to help me, and such thanks I give
As one near death to those that wish him live.
150But what at full I know, thou know’st no part,
745I knowing all my peril, thou no art.

HELEN

What I can do can do no hurt to try
Since you set up your rest ’gainst remedy.
He that of greatest works is finisher
155Oft does them by the weakest minister.
750So holy writ in babes hath judgment shown
When judges have been babes. Great floods have flown
From simple sources, and great seas have dried
When miracles have by the great’st been denied.
160Oft expectation fails, and most oft there
755Where most it promises, and oft it hits
Where hope is coldest and despair most shifts.

KING

I must not hear thee. Fare thee well, kind maid.
Thy pains, not used, must by thyself be paid.
165Proffers not took reap thanks for their reward.

HELEN

760Inspirèd merit so by breath is barred.
It is not so with Him that all things knows
As ’tis with us that square our guess by shows;
But most it is presumption in us when
170The help of heaven we count the act of men.
765Dear sir, to my endeavors give consent.
Of heaven, not me, make an experiment.
I am not an impostor that proclaim
Myself against the level of mine aim,
175But know I think and think I know most sure
770My art is not past power nor you past cure.

KING

Art thou so confident? Within what space
Hop’st thou my cure?

HELEN

The greatest grace lending grace,
180Ere twice the horses of the sun shall bring
775Their fiery torcher his diurnal ring;
Ere twice in murk and occidental damp
Moist Hesperus hath quenched her sleepy lamp;
Or four and twenty times the pilot’s glass
185Hath told the thievish minutes, how they pass,
780What is infirm from your sound parts shall fly,
Health shall live free, and sickness freely die.

KING

Upon thy certainty and confidence
What dar’st thou venture?

HELEN

190Tax of impudence,
785A strumpet’s boldness, a divulgèd shame;
Traduced by odious ballads, my maiden’s name
Seared otherwise; nay, worse of worst, extended
With vilest torture let my life be ended.

KING

195Methinks in thee some blessèd spirit doth speak
790His powerful sound within an organ weak,
And what impossibility would slay
In common sense, sense saves another way.
Thy life is dear, for all that life can rate
200Worth name of life in thee hath estimate:
795Youth, beauty, wisdom, courage, all
That happiness and prime can happy call.
Thou this to hazard needs must intimate
Skill infinite or monstrous desperate.
205Sweet practicer, thy physic I will try,
800That ministers thine own death if I die.

HELEN

If I break time or flinch in property
Of what I spoke, unpitied let me die,
And well deserved. Not helping, death’s my fee.
210But if I help, what do you promise me?

KING

805Make thy demand.

HELEN

But will you make it even?

KING

Ay, by my scepter and my hopes of heaven.

HELEN

Then shalt thou give me with thy kingly hand
215What husband in thy power I will command.
810Exempted be from me the arrogance
To choose from forth the royal blood of France,
My low and humble name to propagate
With any branch or image of thy state;
220But such a one, thy vassal, whom I know
815Is free for me to ask, thee to bestow.

KING

Here is my hand. The premises observed,
Thy will by my performance shall be served.
So make the choice of thy own time, for I,
225Thy resolved patient, on thee still rely.
820More 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
Unquestioned welcome and undoubted blessed.—
230Give me some help here, ho!—If thou proceed
825As high as word, my deed shall match thy deed.

Flourish. They exit, the King assisted.

Scene 2

Enter Countess and Fool.

COUNTESS

Come on, sir. I shall now put you to the
height of your breeding.

FOOL

I will show myself highly fed and lowly taught. I
know my business is but to the court.

COUNTESS

5830“To the court”? Why, what place make you
special when you put off that with such contempt?
“But to the court”?

FOOL

Truly, madam, if God have lent a man any manners,
he may easily put it off at court. He that cannot
10835make a leg, put off ’s cap, kiss his hand, and
say nothing, has neither leg, hands, lip, nor cap;
and indeed such a fellow, to say precisely, were
not for the court. But, for me, I have an answer
will serve all men.

COUNTESS

15840Marry, that’s a bountiful answer that fits all
questions.

FOOL

It is like a barber’s chair that fits all buttocks:
the pin-buttock, the quatch-buttock, the brawn-buttock,
or any buttock.

COUNTESS

20845Will your answer serve fit to all questions?

FOOL

As fit as ten groats is for the hand of an attorney,
as your French crown for your taffety punk, as
Tib’s rush for Tom’s forefinger, as a pancake for
Shrove Tuesday, a morris for May Day, as the nail
25850to his hole, the cuckold to his horn, as a scolding
quean to a wrangling knave, as the nun’s lip to the
friar’s mouth, nay, as the pudding to his skin.

COUNTESS

Have you, I say, an answer of such fitness
for all questions?

FOOL

30855From below your duke to beneath your constable,
it will fit any question.

COUNTESS

It must be an answer of most monstrous
size that must fit all demands.

FOOL

But a trifle neither, in good faith, if the learned
35860should speak truth of it. Here it is, and all that
belongs to ’t. Ask me if I am a courtier; it shall do
you no harm to learn.

COUNTESS

To be young again, if we could! I will be a
fool in question, hoping to be the wiser by your
40865answer. I pray you, sir, are you a courtier?

FOOL

O Lord, sir!—There’s a simple putting off. More,
more, a hundred of them.

COUNTESS

Sir, I am a poor friend of yours that loves
you.

FOOL

45870O Lord, sir!—Thick, thick. Spare not me.

COUNTESS

I think, sir, you can eat none of this homely
meat.

FOOL

O Lord, sir!—Nay, put me to ’t, I warrant you.

COUNTESS

You were lately whipped, sir, as I think.

FOOL

50875O Lord, sir!—Spare not me.

COUNTESS

Do you cry “O Lord, sir!” at your whipping,
and “spare not me”? Indeed your “O Lord, sir!” is
very sequent to your whipping. You would answer
very well to a whipping if you were but bound to ’t.

FOOL

55880I ne’er had worse luck in my life in my “O Lord,
sir!” I see things may serve long but not serve ever.

COUNTESS

I play the noble huswife with the time to
entertain it so merrily with a fool.

FOOL

O Lord, sir!—Why, there ’t serves well again.

COUNTESS , giving him a paper

60885An end, sir. To your business. Give Helen this,
And urge her to a present answer back.
Commend me to my kinsmen and my son.
This is not much.

FOOL

Not much commendation to them?

COUNTESS

65890Not much employment for you. You understand me.

FOOL

Most fruitfully. I am there before my legs.

COUNTESS

Haste you again.

They exit.

Scene 3

Enter Count Bertram, Lafew, and Parolles.

LAFEW

They say miracles are past, and we have our
philosophical persons to make modern and familiar
895things supernatural and causeless. Hence is it
that we make trifles of terrors, ensconcing ourselves
5into seeming knowledge when we should
submit ourselves to an unknown fear.

PAROLLES

Why, ’tis the rarest argument of wonder that
900hath shot out in our latter times.

BERTRAM

And so ’tis.

LAFEW

10To be relinquished of the artists—

PAROLLES

So I say, both of Galen and Paracelsus.

LAFEW

Of all the learned and authentic fellows—

PAROLLES

905Right, so I say.

LAFEW

That gave him out incurable—

PAROLLES

15Why, there ’tis. So say I too.

LAFEW

Not to be helped.

PAROLLES

Right, as ’twere a man assured of a—

LAFEW

910Uncertain life and sure death.

PAROLLES

Just. You say well. So would I have said.

LAFEW

20I may truly say it is a novelty to the world.

PAROLLES

It is indeed. If you will have it in showing,
you shall read it in what-do-you-call there.

He points to a paper in Lafew’s hand.

LAFEW reads

915A showing of a heavenly effect in an earthly
actor.

PAROLLES

25That’s it. I would have said the very same.

LAFEW

Why, your dolphin is not lustier. ’Fore me, I
speak in respect—

PAROLLES

920Nay, ’tis strange, ’tis very strange; that is the
brief and the tedious of it; and he’s of a most facinorous
30spirit that will not acknowledge it to be
the—

LAFEW

Very hand of heaven.

PAROLLES

925Ay, so I say.

LAFEW

In a most weak—

PAROLLES

35And debile minister. Great power, great
transcendence, which should indeed give us a further
use to be made than alone the recov’ry of the
930King, as to be—

LAFEW

Generally thankful.

Enter King, Helen, and Attendants.

PAROLLES

40I would have said it. You say well. Here
comes the King.

LAFEW

Lustig, as the Dutchman says. I’ll like a maid
935the better whilst I have a tooth in my head. Why,
he’s able to lead her a coranto.

PAROLLES

45Mort du vinaigre! Is not this Helen?

LAFEW

’Fore God, I think so.

KING

Go, call before me all the lords in court.
An Attendant exits.
940Sit, my preserver, by thy patient’s side,
And with this healthful hand, whose banished sense
50Thou hast repealed, a second time receive
The confirmation of my promised gift,
Which but attends thy naming.

Enter three or four Court Lords.

945Fair maid, send forth thine eye. This youthful parcel
Of noble bachelors stand at my bestowing,
55O’er whom both sovereign power and father’s voice
I have to use. Thy frank election make.
Thou hast power to choose, and they none to forsake.

HELEN

950To each of you one fair and virtuous mistress
Fall when Love please! Marry, to each but one.

LAFEW , aside

60I’d give bay Curtal and his furniture
My mouth no more were broken than these boys’
And writ as little beard.

KING

955Peruse them well.
Not one of those but had a noble father.

HELEN

65Gentlemen,
Heaven hath through me restored the King to health.

ALL

We understand it and thank heaven for you.

HELEN

960I am a simple maid, and therein wealthiest
That I protest I simply am a maid.—
70Please it your Majesty, I have done already.
The blushes in my cheeks thus whisper me:
“We blush that thou shouldst choose; but, be
965refused,
Let the white death sit on thy cheek forever;
75We’ll ne’er come there again.”

KING

Make choice and see.
Who shuns thy love shuns all his love in me.

HELEN

970Now, Dian, from thy altar do I fly,
And to imperial Love, that god most high,
80Do my sighs stream.She addresses her to a Lord.
Sir, will you hear my suit?

FIRST COURT LORD

And grant it.

HELEN

975Thanks, sir. All the
rest is mute.

LAFEW , aside

85I had rather be in this choice than
throw ambs-ace for my life.

HELEN , to another Lord

The honor, sir, that flames in your fair eyes
980Before I speak too threat’ningly replies.
Love make your fortunes twenty times above
90Her that so wishes, and her humble love.

SECOND COURT LORD

No better, if you please.

HELEN

My wish receive,
985Which great Love grant, and so I take my leave.

LAFEW , aside

Do all they deny her? An they were sons
95of mine, I’d have them whipped, or I would send
them to th’ Turk to make eunuchs of.

HELEN , to another Lord

Be not afraid that I your hand should take.
990I’ll never do you wrong, for your own sake.
Blessing upon your vows, and in your bed
100Find fairer fortune if you ever wed.

LAFEW , aside

These boys are boys of ice; they’ll none
have her. Sure they are bastards to the English;
995the French ne’er got ’em.

HELEN , to another Lord

You are too young, too happy, and too good
105To make yourself a son out of my blood.

FOURTH COURT LORD

Fair one, I think not so.

LAFEW , aside

There’s one grape yet. I am sure thy
1000father drunk wine. But if thou be’st not an ass, I
am a youth of fourteen; I have known thee already.

HELEN , to Bertram

110I dare not say I take you, but I give
Me and my service ever whilst I live
Into your guiding power.—This is the man.

KING

1005Why then, young Bertram, take her. She’s thy wife.

BERTRAM

My wife, my liege? I shall beseech your Highness
115In such a business give me leave to use
The help of mine own eyes.

KING

Know’st thou not,
1010Bertram,
What she has done for me?

BERTRAM

120Yes, my good lord,
But never hope to know why I should marry her.

KING

Thou know’st she has raised me from my sickly bed.

BERTRAM

1015But follows it, my lord, to bring me down
Must answer for your raising? I know her well;
125She had her breeding at my father’s charge.
A poor physician’s daughter my wife? Disdain
Rather corrupt me ever!

KING

1020’Tis only title thou disdain’st in her, the which
I can build up. Strange is it that our bloods,
130Of color, weight, and heat, poured all together,
Would quite confound distinction, yet stands off
In differences so mighty. If she be
1025All that is virtuous, save what thou dislik’st—
“A poor physician’s daughter”—thou dislik’st
135Of virtue for the name. But do not so.
From lowest place whence virtuous things proceed,
The place is dignified by th’ doer’s deed.
1030Where great additions swell ’s, and virtue none,
It is a dropsied honor. Good alone
140Is good, without a name; vileness is so;
The property by what it is should go,
Not by the title. She is young, wise, fair;
1035In these to nature she’s immediate heir,
And these breed honor. That is honor’s scorn
145Which challenges itself as honor’s born
And is not like the sire. Honors thrive
When rather from our acts we them derive
1040Than our foregoers. The mere word’s a slave
Debauched on every tomb, on every grave
150A lying trophy, and as oft is dumb
Where dust and damned oblivion is the tomb
Of honored bones indeed. What should be said?
1045If thou canst like this creature as a maid,
I can create the rest. Virtue and she
155Is her own dower, honor and wealth from me.

BERTRAM

I cannot love her, nor will strive to do ’t.

KING

Thou wrong’st thyself if thou shouldst strive to
1050choose.

HELEN

That you are well restored, my lord, I’m glad.
160Let the rest go.

KING

My honor’s at the stake, which to defeat
I must produce my power.—Here, take her hand,
1055Proud, scornful boy, unworthy this good gift,
That dost in vile misprision shackle up
165My love and her desert; that canst not dream
We, poising us in her defective scale,
Shall weigh thee to the beam; that wilt not know
1060It is in us to plant thine honor where
We please to have it grow. Check thy contempt;
170Obey our will, which travails in thy good.
Believe not thy disdain, but presently
Do thine own fortunes that obedient right
1065Which both thy duty owes and our power claims,
Or I will throw thee from my care forever
175Into the staggers and the careless lapse
Of youth and ignorance, both my revenge and hate
Loosing upon thee in the name of justice
1070Without all terms of pity. Speak. Thine answer.

BERTRAM

Pardon, my gracious lord, for I submit
180My fancy to your eyes. When I consider
What great creation and what dole of honor
Flies where you bid it, I find that she which late
1075Was in my nobler thoughts most base is now
The praisèd of the King, who, so ennobled,
185Is as ’twere born so.

KING

Take her by the hand,
And tell her she is thine, to whom I promise
1080A counterpoise, if not to thy estate,
A balance more replete.

BERTRAM

190I take her hand.

KING

Good fortune and the favor of the King
Smile upon this contract, whose ceremony
1085Shall seem expedient on the now-born brief
And be performed tonight. The solemn feast
195Shall more attend upon the coming space,
Expecting absent friends. As thou lov’st her
Thy love’s to me religious; else, does err.

They exit. Parolles and Lafew stay behind,
commenting of this wedding.

LAFEW

1090Do you hear, monsieur? A word with you.

PAROLLES

Your pleasure, sir.

LAFEW

200Your lord and master did well to make his
recantation.

PAROLLES

“Recantation”? My “lord”? My “master”?

LAFEW

1095Ay. Is it not a language I speak?

PAROLLES

A most harsh one, and not to be understood
205without bloody succeeding. My “master”?

LAFEW

Are you companion to the Count Rossillion?

PAROLLES

To any count, to all counts, to what is man.

LAFEW

1100To what is count’s man. Count’s master is of
another style.

PAROLLES

210You are too old, sir; let it satisfy you, you are
too old.

LAFEW

I must tell thee, sirrah, I write man, to which
1105title age cannot bring thee.

PAROLLES

What I dare too well do, I dare not do.

LAFEW

215I did think thee, for two ordinaries, to be a
pretty wise fellow; thou didst make tolerable vent
of thy travel; it might pass. Yet the scarves and the
1110bannerets about thee did manifoldly dissuade me
from believing thee a vessel of too great a burden.
220I have now found thee. When I lose thee again, I
care not. Yet art thou good for nothing but taking
up, and that thou ’rt scarce worth.

PAROLLES

1115Hadst thou not the privilege of antiquity
upon thee—

LAFEW

225Do not plunge thyself too far in anger lest thou
hasten thy trial, which if—Lord have mercy on
thee for a hen! So, my good window of lattice, fare
1120thee well; thy casement I need not open, for I look
through thee. Give me thy hand.

PAROLLES

230My lord, you give me most egregious
indignity.

LAFEW

Ay, with all my heart, and thou art worthy of it.

PAROLLES

1125I have not, my lord, deserved it.

LAFEW

Yes, good faith, ev’ry dram of it, and I will not
235bate thee a scruple.

PAROLLES

Well, I shall be wiser.

LAFEW

Ev’n as soon as thou canst, for thou hast to
1130pull at a smack o’ th’ contrary. If ever thou be’st
bound in thy scarf and beaten, thou shalt find
240what it is to be proud of thy bondage. I have a
desire to hold my acquaintance with thee, or
rather my knowledge, that I may say in the default
1135“He is a man I know.”

PAROLLES

My lord, you do me most insupportable
245vexation.

LAFEW

I would it were hell pains for thy sake, and my
poor doing eternal; for doing I am past, as I will by
1140thee in what motion age will give me leave.

He exits.

PAROLLES

Well, thou hast a son shall take this disgrace
250off me. Scurvy, old, filthy, scurvy lord! Well, I must
be patient; there is no fettering of authority. I’ll
beat him, by my life, if I can meet him with any
1145convenience, an he were double and double a lord.
I’ll have no more pity of his age than I would have
255of—I’ll beat him, an if I could but meet him again.

Enter Lafew.

LAFEW

Sirrah, your lord and master’s married. There’s
news for you: you have a new mistress.

PAROLLES

1150I most unfeignedly beseech your Lordship
to make some reservation of your wrongs. He is
260my good lord; whom I serve above is my master.

LAFEW

Who? God?

PAROLLES

Ay, sir.

LAFEW

1155The devil it is that’s thy master. Why dost thou
garter up thy arms o’ this fashion? Dost make hose
265of thy sleeves? Do other servants so? Thou wert
best set thy lower part where thy nose stands. By
mine honor, if I were but two hours younger, I’d
1160beat thee. Methink’st thou art a general offense,
and every man should beat thee. I think thou wast
270created for men to breathe themselves upon thee.

PAROLLES

This is hard and undeserved measure, my
lord.

LAFEW

1165Go to, sir. You were beaten in Italy for picking a
kernel out of a pomegranate. You are a vagabond,
275and no true traveler. You are more saucy with
lords and honorable personages than the commission
of your birth and virtue gives you heraldry.
1170You are not worth another word; else I’d call you
knave. I leave you.

He exits.

PAROLLES

280Good, very good! It is so, then. Good, very
good. Let it be concealed awhile.

Enter Bertram Count Rossillion.

BERTRAM

Undone, and forfeited to cares forever!

PAROLLES

1175What’s the matter, sweetheart?

BERTRAM

Although before the solemn priest I have sworn,
285I will not bed her.

PAROLLES

What, what, sweetheart?

BERTRAM

O my Parolles, they have married me!
1180I’ll to the Tuscan wars and never bed her.

PAROLLES

France is a dog-hole, and it no more merits
290the tread of a man’s foot. To th’ wars!

BERTRAM

There’s letters from my mother. What th’
import is I know not yet.

PAROLLES

1185Ay, that would be known. To th’ wars, my
boy, to th’ wars!
295He wears his honor in a box unseen
That hugs his kicky-wicky here at home,
Spending his manly marrow in her arms
1190Which should sustain the bound and high curvet
Of Mars’s fiery steed. To other regions!
300France is a stable, we that dwell in ’t jades.
Therefore, to th’ war!

BERTRAM

It shall be so. I’ll send her to my house,
1195Acquaint my mother with my hate to her
And wherefore I am fled, write to the King
305That which I durst not speak. His present gift
Shall furnish me to those Italian fields
Where noble fellows strike. Wars is no strife
1200To the dark house and the detested wife.

PAROLLES

Will this capriccio hold in thee? Art sure?

BERTRAM

310Go with me to my chamber, and advise me.
I’ll send her straight away. Tomorrow
I’ll to the wars, she to her single sorrow.

PAROLLES

1205Why, these balls bound; there’s noise in it. ’Tis hard.
A young man married is a man that’s marred.
315Therefore away, and leave her bravely. Go.
The King has done you wrong, but hush, ’tis so.

They exit.

Scene 4

Enter Helen with a paper, and Fool.

HELEN

My mother greets me kindly. Is she well?

FOOL

1210She 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,
5but yet she is not well.

HELEN

If she be very well, what does she ail that she’s
1215not very well?

FOOL

Truly, she’s very well indeed, but for two things.

HELEN

What two things?

FOOL

10One, that she’s not in heaven, whither God send
her quickly; the other, that she’s in Earth, from
1220whence God send her quickly.

Enter Parolles.

PAROLLES

Bless you, my fortunate lady.

HELEN

I hope, sir, I have your good will to have mine
15own good fortunes.

PAROLLES

You had my prayers to lead them on, and to
1225keep them on have them still.—O my knave, how
does my old lady?

FOOL

So that you had her wrinkles and I her money, I
20would she did as you say.

PAROLLES

Why, I say nothing.

FOOL

1230Marry, 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
25have nothing is to be a great part of your title,
which is within a very little of nothing.

PAROLLES

1235Away. Thou ’rt a knave.

FOOL

You should have said, sir, “Before a knave,
thou ’rt a knave”; that’s “Before me, thou ’rt a
30knave.” This had been truth, sir.

PAROLLES

Go to. Thou art a witty fool. I have found
1240thee.

FOOL

Did you find me in yourself, sir, or were you
taught to find me?

PAROLLES