Shakespeare's Comedies, Bilingual edition (all 12 plays in English with line numbers and in French translation) E-Book
William Shakespeare
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- Herausgeber: Seltzer Books
- Kategorie: Poesie und Drama
- Sprache: Französisch
Bilingual, English and French. All 12 Shakespeare comedies in English with line numbers and translated to French. The 12 are: All's Well that Ends Well, As You Like It, The Comedy of Errors, Love's Labour's Lost, Measure for Measure, The Merchant of Venice, The Merry Wives of Windsor, A Midsummer Night's Dream, Much Ado about Nothing, The Taming of the Shrew, Twelth Night, and The Two Gentlemen of Verona.
Bilingue, anglais et français. Toutes les 12 comédies de Shakespeare en anglais avec des numéros de ligne et traduites en français. Les 12 sont: Tout est bien qui finit bien, Comme vous l'aimez, La comédie des erreurs, Le travail de l'amour est perdu, Mesure pour mesure, Le marchand de Venise, Les joyeuses femmes de Windsor, Un rêve de nuit d'été, Beaucoup de bruit pour rien, Le Maîtrise de la musaraigne, de la douzième nuit et des deux gentilshommes de Vérone.
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Seitenzahl: 2810
Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2018
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SHAKESPEARE'S COMEDIES, BILINGUAL EDITION (IN ENGLISH WITH LINE NUMBERS AND IN FRENCH)
published by Samizdat Express, Orange, CT, USA
established in 1974, offering over 14,000 books
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COMEDIES IN ENGLISH, WITH LINE NUMBERS
ALL'S WELL THAT ENDS WELL
AS YOU LIKE IT
THE COMEDY OF ERRORS
LOVE'S LABOUR'S LOST
MEASURE FOR MEASURE
THE MERCHANT OF VENICE
THE MERRY WIVES OF WINDSOR
A MIDSUMMER NIGHT'S DREAM
MUCH ADO ABOUT NOTHING
THE TAMING OF THE SHREW
TWELFTH NIGHT
THE TWO GENTLEMEN OF VERONA
COMEDIES IN FRENCH
TOUT EST BIEN QUI FINIT BIEN, COMEDIE PAR WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE, TRADUCTION DE M. GUIZOT
COMME IL VOUS PLAIRA, COMÉDIE PAR WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE, TRADUCTION DE M. GUIZOT
LA COMÉDIE DES MÉPRISES PAR SHAKESPEARE, TRADUCTION DE M. GUIZOT
PEINES D'AMOUR PERDUES PAR WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE, TRADUCTION DE M. GUIZOT
MESURE POUR MESURE, COMÉDIE PAR WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE, TRADUCTION DE M. GUIZOT
LE MARCHAND DE VENISE PAR WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE, TRADUCTION DE M. GUIZOT
LES JOYEUSES BOURGEOISES DE WINDSOR, COMÉDIE PAR WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE, TRADUCTION DE M. GUIZOT
LE SONGE D'UNE NUIT D'ÉTÉ, COMÉDIE PAR WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE, TRADUCTION DE M. GUIZOT
BEAUCOUP DE BRUIT POUR RIEN, COMÉDIE PAR WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE, TRADUCTION DE M. GUIZOT
LA MÉCHANTE FEMME MISE À LA RAISON, COMÉDIE PAR WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE, TRADUCTION DE M. GUIZOT
ALL'S WELL THAT ENDS WELL BY WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE
DRAMATIS PERSONAE
ACT I
SCENE I Rousillon. The COUNT's palace.
SCENE II Paris. The KING's palace.
SCENE III Rousillon. The Count's palace.
ACT II
SCENE I Paris. The King's palace.
SCENE II Rousillon. The Count's palace.
SCENE III Paris. The King's palace.
SCENE IV Paris. The King's palace.
SCENE V Paris. The King's palace.
ACT III
SCENE I Florence. The Duke's palace.
SCENE II Rousillon. The Count's palace.
SCENE III Florence. Before the Duke's palace.
SCENE IV Rousillon. The Count's palace.
SCENE V Florence. Without the walls. A tucket afar off.
SCENE VI Camp before Florence.
SCENE VII Florence. The Widow's house.
ACT IV
SCENE I Without the Florentine camp.
SCENE II Florence. The Widow's house.
SCENE III The Florentine camp.
SCENE IV Florence. The Widow's house.
SCENE V Rousillon. The Count's palace.
ACT V
SCENE I Marseilles. A street.
SCENE II Rousillon. Before the Count's palace.
SCENE III Rousillon. The Count's palace.
EPILOGUE
DRAMATIS PERSONAE
King of France (King:)
Duke of Florence (Duke:)
Bertram, Count of Rousillon.
Lafeu, an old Lord.
Parolles, a follower of Bertram.
Servants to the Countess of Rousillon
Steward
Clown
A Page. (Page:)
Countess Of Rousillon, Mother to Bertram. (Countess:)
Helena, a gentlewoman protected by the Countess.
An old Widow of Florence. (Widow:)
Diana, daughter to the Widow.
Neighbours and friends to the Widow
Violenta
Mariana
Lords, Officers, Soldiers, &c., French and Florentine.
(First Lord:)
(Second Lord:)
(Fourth Lord:)
(First Gentleman:)
(Second Gentleman:)
(First Soldier:)
(Gentleman:)
SCENE Rousillon; Paris; Florence; Marseilles.
ALL'S WELL THAT ENDS WELL
ACT I
SCENE I Rousillon. The COUNT's palace.
[Enter BERTRAM, the COUNTESS of Rousillon, HELENA, and LAFEU, all in black]
(1) 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 command, to
whom I am now in ward, evermore in subjection.
LAFEU 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; whose
(10) 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?
LAFEU He hath abandoned his physicians, madam; under whose
practises 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
(20) 'had'! how sad a passage 'tis!--whose skill was
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.
LAFEU How called you the man you speak of, madam?
COUNTESS He was famous, sir, in his profession, and it was
(30) his great right to be so: Gerard de Narbon.
LAFEU He was excellent indeed, madam: the king very
lately spoke of him admiringly and mourningly: he
was skilful enough to have lived still, if knowledge
could be set up against mortality.
BERTRAM What is it, my good lord, the king languishes of?
LAFEU A fistula, my lord.
(40) BERTRAM I heard not of it before.
LAFEU I would it were not notorious. Was this gentlewoman
the daughter of Gerard de Narbon?
COUNTESS His sole child, my lord, and bequeathed to my
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
(50) traitors too; in her they are the better for their
simpleness; she derives her honesty and achieves her goodness.
LAFEU Your commendations, madam, get from her tears.
COUNTESS '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;
(60) go to, no more; lest it be rather thought you affect
a sorrow than have it.
HELENA I do affect a sorrow indeed, but I have it too.
LAFEU 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 excess
makes it soon mortal.
BERTRAM Madam, I desire your holy wishes.
LAFEU How understand we that?
(70) COUNTESS Be thou blest, Bertram, and succeed thy father
In manners, as in shape! thy blood and virtue
Contend 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 cheque'd for silence,
But never tax'd for speech. What heaven more will,
That thee may furnish and my prayers pluck down,
Fall on thy head! Farewell, my lord;
(80) 'Tis an unseason'd courtier; good my lord,
Advise him.
LAFEU He cannot want the best
That shall attend his love.
COUNTESS Heaven bless him! Farewell, Bertram.
[Exit]
BERTRAM [To HELENA] The best wishes that can be forged in
your thoughts be servants to you! Be comfortable
to my mother, your mistress, and make much of her.
LAFEU Farewell, pretty lady: you must hold the credit of
your father.
[Exeunt BERTRAM and LAFEU]
(90) HELENA O, were that all! I think not on my father;
And 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 favour in't but Bertram's.
I am undone: there is no living, none,
If 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
(100) Must I be comforted, not in his sphere.
The ambition in my love thus plagues itself:
The hind that would be mated by the lion
Must die for love. 'Twas pretty, though plague,
To see him every hour; to sit and draw
His arched brows, his hawking eye, his curls,
In our heart's table; heart too capable
Of every line and trick of his sweet favour:
But now he's gone, and my idolatrous fancy
Must sanctify his reliques. Who comes here?
[Enter PAROLLES]
[Aside]
(110) One that goes with him: I love him for his sake;
And 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
Look bleak i' the cold wind: withal, full oft we see
Cold wisdom waiting on superfluous folly.
PAROLLES Save you, fair queen!
HELENA And you, monarch!
PAROLLES No.
(120) HELENA And no.
PAROLLES Are you meditating on virginity?
HELENA 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.
HELENA But he assails; and our virginity, though valiant,
in the defence yet is weak: unfold to us some
warlike resistance.
(130) PAROLLES There is none: man, sitting down before you, will
undermine you and blow you up.
HELENA Bless 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 down 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
(140) increase and there was never virgin got till
virginity was first lost. That you were 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!
HELENA I will stand for 't a little, though therefore I die a virgin.
PAROLLES There's little can be said in 't; 'tis against the
rule of nature. To speak on the part of virginity,
(150) is to accuse your mothers; which is most infallible
disobedience. He that hangs himself is a virgin:
virginity 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.
Besides, 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 loose
(160) by't: out with 't! within ten year it will make
itself ten, which is a goodly increase; and the
principal itself not much the worse: away with 't!
HELENA 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
lying; the longer kept, the less worth: off with 't
while 'tis vendible; answer the time of request.
(170) Virginity, like an old courtier, wears her cap out
of fashion: richly suited, but unsuitable: just
like the brooch and the tooth-pick, which wear not
now. Your 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 drily; marry,
'tis a withered pear; it was formerly better;
marry, yet 'tis a withered pear: will you anything with it?
HELENA Not my virginity yet [ ]
(180) There shall your master have a thousand loves,
A mother and a mistress and a friend,
A phoenix, captain and an enemy,
A guide, a goddess, and a sovereign,
A counsellor, 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
Of pretty, fond, adoptious christendoms,
That blinking Cupid gossips. Now shall he--
(190) 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?
HELENA That I wish well. 'Tis pity--
PAROLLES What's pity?
HELENA 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,
Might with effects of them follow our friends,
And show what we alone must think, which never
(200) Return us thanks.
[Enter PAGE]
PAGE Monsieur Parolles, my lord calls for you.
[Exit]
PAROLLES Little Helen, farewell; if I can remember thee, I
will think of thee at court.
HELENA Monsieur Parolles, you were born under a charitable star.
PAROLLES Under Mars, I.
HELENA I especially think, under Mars.
PAROLLES Why under Mars?
HELENA The wars have so kept you under that you must needs
(210) be born under Mars.
PAROLLES When he was predominant.
HELENA When he was retrograde, I think, rather.
PAROLLES Why think you so?
HELENA You go so much backward when you fight.
PAROLLES That's for advantage.
HELENA So is running away, when fear proposes the safety;
but the composition that your valour and fear makes
in you is a virtue of a good wing, and I like the wear well.
(220) 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
thee, 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
none, remember thy friends; get thee a good husband,
(230) and use him as he uses thee; so, farewell.
[Exit]
HELENA Our remedies oft in ourselves do lie,
Which we ascribe to heaven: the fated sky
Gives us free scope, only doth backward pull
Our 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.
Impossible be strange attempts to those
(240) That weigh their pains in sense and do suppose
What hath been cannot be: who ever strove
So show her merit, that did miss her love?
The king's disease--my project may deceive me,
But my intents are fix'd and will not leave me.
[Exit]
SCENE II Paris. The KING's palace.
[Flourish of cornets. Enter the KING of France, with letters, and DIVERS ATTENDANTS]
(1) KING The Florentines and Senoys are by the ears;
Have fought with equal fortune and continue
A braving war.
FIRST LORD So 'tis reported, sir.
KING Nay, 'tis most credible; we here received it
A certainty, vouch'd 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
To have us make denial.
FIRST LORD His love and wisdom,
(10) Approved so to your majesty, may plead
For amplest credence.
KING He hath arm'd our answer,
And 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
A nursery to our gentry, who are sick
For breathing and exploit.
KING What's he comes here?
[Enter BERTRAM, LAFEU, and PAROLLES]
FIRST LORD It is the Count Rousillon, my good lord,
Young Bertram.
KING Youth, thou bear'st thy father's face;
(20) 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 I 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;
But on us both did haggish age steal on
(30) 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
To-day in our young lords; but they may jest
Till their own scorn return to them unnoted
Ere they can hide their levity in honour;
So like a courtier, contempt nor bitterness
Were in his pride or sharpness; if they were,
His equal had awaked them, and his honour,
Clock to itself, knew the true minute when
(40) Exception bid him speak, and at this time
His tongue obey'd his hand: who were below him
He used as creatures of another place
And bow'd his eminent top to their low ranks,
Making them proud of his humility,
In their poor praise he humbled. Such a man
Might be a copy to these younger times;
Which, follow'd well, would demonstrate them now
But goers backward.
BERTRAM His good remembrance, sir,
Lies richer in your thoughts than on his tomb;
(50) So in approof lives not his epitaph
As in your royal speech.
KING Would I were with him! He would always say--
Methinks I hear him now; his plausive words
He scatter'd 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,
When it was out,--'Let me not live,' quoth he,
'After my flame lacks oil, to be the snuff
(60) Of younger spirits, whose apprehensive senses
All but new things disdain; whose judgments are
Mere fathers of their garments; whose constancies
Expire before their fashions.' This he wish'd;
I after him do after him wish too,
Since I nor wax nor honey can bring home,
I quickly were dissolved from my hive,
To give some labourers room.
SECOND LORD You are loved, sir:
They that least lend it you shall lack you first.
KING I fill a place, I know't. How long is't, count,
(70) Since the physician at your father's died?
He was much famed.
BERTRAM Some 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;
My son's no dearer.
BERTRAM Thank your majesty.
[Exeunt. Flourish]
SCENE III Rousillon. The Count's palace.
[Enter COUNTESS, STEWARD, and CLOWN]
(1) COUNTESS I will now hear; what say you of this gentlewoman?
STEWARD Madam, the care I have had to even your content, I
wish might be found in the calendar of my past
endeavours; 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? Get you gone, sirrah:
(10) the complaints I have heard of you 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.
CLOWN 'Tis not unknown to you, madam, I am a poor fellow.
COUNTESS Well, sir.
CLOWN No, madam, 'tis not so well that I am poor, though
many of the rich are damned: but, if I may have
(20) your ladyship's good will to go to the world, Isbel
the woman and I will do as we may.
COUNTESS Wilt thou needs be a beggar?
CLOWN I do beg your good will in this case.
COUNTESS In what case?
CLOWN In Isbel's case and mine own. Service is no
heritage: and I think I shall never have the
blessing of God till I have issue o' my body; for
they say barnes are blessings.
COUNTESS Tell me thy reason why thou wilt marry.
(30) CLOWN My poor body, madam, requires it: I am driven on
by the flesh; and he must needs go that the devil drives.
COUNTESS Is this all your worship's reason?
CLOWN Faith, madam, I have other holy reasons such as they
are.
COUNTESS May the world know them?
CLOWN I have been, madam, a wicked creature, as you and
all flesh and blood are; and, indeed, I do marry
that I may repent.
(40) COUNTESS Thy marriage, sooner than thy wickedness.
CLOWN I am out o' friends, madam; and I hope to have
friends for my wife's sake.
COUNTESS Such friends are thine enemies, knave.
CLOWN You're shallow, madam, in great friends; for the
knaves come to do that for me which I am aweary of.
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
(50) and blood loves my flesh and blood; he that loves my
flesh and blood is my friend: ergo, he that kisses
my wife is my friend. If men could be contented to
be what they are, there were no fear in marriage;
for young Charbon the Puritan and old Poysam the
Papist, howsome'er their hearts are severed in
religion, their heads are both one; they may jowl
horns together, like any deer i' the herd.
(60) COUNTESS Wilt thou ever be a foul-mouthed and calumnious knave?
CLOWN A prophet I, madam; and I speak the truth the next
way:
For I the ballad will repeat,
Which men full true shall find;
Your marriage comes by destiny,
Your cuckoo sings by kind.
COUNTESS Get you gone, sir; I'll talk with you more anon.
(70) STEWARD May it please you, madam, that he bid Helen come to
you: of her I am to speak.
COUNTESS Sirrah, tell my gentlewoman I would speak with her;
Helen, I mean.
CLOWN Was this fair face the cause, quoth she,
Why the Grecians sacked Troy?
Fond done, done fond,
Was this King Priam's joy?
With that she sighed as she stood,
With that she sighed as she stood,
(80) And gave this sentence then;
Among nine bad if one be good,
Among nine bad if one be good,
There's yet one good in ten.
COUNTESS What, one good in ten? you corrupt the song, sirrah.
CLOWN One good woman in ten, madam; which is a purifying
o' the song: would God would serve the world so all
the year! we'ld find no fault with the tithe-woman,
if I were the parson. One in ten, quoth a'! An we
(90) might have a good woman born but one every blazing
star, or at an earthquake, 'twould mend the lottery
well: a man may draw his heart out, ere a' pluck
one.
COUNTESS You'll be gone, sir knave, and do as I command you.
CLOWN That man should be at woman's command, and yet no
hurt done! Though honesty be no puritan, yet it
will do no hurt; it will wear the surplice of
humility over the black gown of a big heart. I am
(100) going, forsooth: the business is for Helen to come hither.
[Exit]
COUNTESS Well, now.
STEWARD I know, madam, you love your gentlewoman entirely.
COUNTESS Faith, I do: her father bequeathed her to me; and
she herself, without other advantage, may lawfully
make title to as much love as she finds: there is
more owing her than is paid; and more shall be paid
her than she'll demand.
(110) STEWARD Madam, I was very late more near her than I think
she wished me: alone she was, and did communicate
to herself her own words to her own ears; 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; Love no
god, that would not extend his might, only where
qualities were level; Dian no queen of virgins, that
(120) would suffer her poor knight surprised, without
rescue in the first assault or ransom afterward.
This she delivered in the most bitter touch of
sorrow that e'er I heard virgin exclaim in: which I
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 to
yourself: many likelihoods informed me of this
before, which hung so tottering in the balance that
(130) 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 anon.
[Exit STEWARD]
[Enter HELENA]
Even 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;
It is the show and seal of nature's truth,
Where love's strong passion is impress'd in youth:
(140) 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.
HELENA What is your pleasure, madam?
COUNTESS You know, Helen,
I am a mother to you.
HELENA Mine honourable mistress.
COUNTESS Nay, a mother:
Why not a mother? When I said 'a mother,'
Methought you saw a serpent: what's in 'mother,'
That you start at it? I say, I am your mother;
And put you in the catalogue of those
(150) That were enwombed mine: 'tis often seen
Adoption strives with nature and choice breeds
A native slip to us from foreign seeds:
You ne'er oppress'd 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,
That this distemper'd messenger of wet,
The many-colour'd Iris, rounds thine eye?
Why? that you are my daughter?
HELENA That I am not.
COUNTESS I say, I am your mother.
(160) HELENA Pardon, madam;
The Count Rousillon cannot be my brother:
I am from humble, he from honour'd name;
No note upon my parents, his all noble:
My master, my dear lord he is; and I
His servant live, and will his vassal die:
He must not be my brother.
COUNTESS Nor I your mother?
HELENA You are my mother, madam; would you were,--
So that my lord your son were not my brother,--
Indeed my mother! or were you both our mothers,
(170) I 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:
God shield you mean it not! daughter and mother
So strive upon your pulse. What, pale again?
My fear hath catch'd your fondness: now I see
The mystery of your loneliness, and find
Your salt tears' head: now to all sense 'tis gross
You love my son; invention is ashamed,
(180) Against 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
See it so grossly shown in thy behaviors
That 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;
If it be not, forswear't: howe'er, I charge thee,
(190) As heaven shall work in me for thine avail,
Tell me truly.
HELENA Good madam, pardon me!
COUNTESS Do you love my son?
HELENA Your pardon, noble mistress!
COUNTESS Love you my son?
HELENA 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
The state of your affection; for your passions
Have to the full appeach'd.
HELENA Then, I confess,
Here on my knee, before high heaven and you,
That before you, and next unto high heaven,
(200) I love your son.
My 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;
Nor would I have him till I do deserve him;
Yet 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
(210) And lack not to lose still: thus, Indian-like,
Religious 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
For loving where you do: but if yourself,
Whose aged honour 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
(220) To her, whose state is such that cannot choose
But 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,--
To go to Paris?
HELENA Madam, I had.
COUNTESS Wherefore? tell true.
HELENA I will tell truth; by grace itself I swear.
You know my father left me some prescriptions
Of rare and proved effects, such as his reading
And manifest experience had collected
(230) For general sovereignty; and that he will'd me
In heedfull'st reservation to bestow them,
As notes whose faculties inclusive were
More than they were in note: amongst the rest,
There is a remedy, approved, set down,
To cure the desperate languishings whereof
The king is render'd lost.
COUNTESS This was your motive
For Paris, was it? speak.
HELENA My lord your son made me to think of this;
Else Paris and the medicine and the king
(240) Had from the conversation of my thoughts
Haply been absent then.
COUNTESS But think you, Helen,
If you should tender your supposed 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
A poor unlearned virgin, when the schools,
Embowell'd of their doctrine, have left off
The danger to itself?
HELENA There's something in't,
More than my father's skill, which was the greatest
(250) Of his profession, that his good receipt
Shall for my legacy be sanctified
By the luckiest stars in heaven: and, would your honour
But give me leave to try success, I'ld venture
The well-lost life of mine on his grace's cure
By such a day and hour.
COUNTESS Dost thou believe't?
HELENA Ay, madam, knowingly.
COUNTESS Why, Helen, thou shalt have my leave and love,
Means and attendants and my loving greetings
To those of mine in court: I'll stay at home
(260) And pray God's blessing into thy attempt:
Be gone to-morrow; and be sure of this,
What I can help thee to thou shalt not miss.
[Exeunt]
ACT II
SCENE I Paris. The King's palace.
[Flourish of cornets. Enter the KING, attended with DIVERS YOUNG LORDS taking leave for the Florentine war; BERTRAM, and PAROLLES]
(1) KING Farewell, young lords; these warlike principles
Do not throw from you: and you, my lords, farewell:
Share the advice betwixt you; if both gain, all
The gift doth stretch itself as 'tis received,
And is enough for both.
FIRST LORD 'Tis our hope, sir,
After well enter'd soldiers, to return
And find your grace in health.
KING No, no, it cannot be; and yet my heart
Will not confess he owes the malady
(10) That doth my life besiege. Farewell, young lords;
Whether I live or die, be you the sons
Of worthy Frenchmen: let higher Italy,--
Those bated that inherit but the fall
Of the last monarchy,--see that you come
Not to woo honour, but to wed it; when
The bravest questant shrinks, find what you seek,
That fame may cry you loud: I say, farewell.
SECOND LORD Health, at your bidding, serve your majesty!
KING Those girls of Italy, take heed of them:
(20) They say, our French lack language to deny,
If they demand: beware of being captives,
Before you serve.
Both Our hearts receive your warnings.
KING Farewell. Come hither to me.
[Exit, attended]
FIRST LORD O, my sweet lord, that you will stay behind us!
PAROLLES 'Tis not his fault, the spark.
SECOND LORD O, 'tis brave wars!
PAROLLES Most admirable: I have seen those wars.
BERTRAM I 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.
(30) BERTRAM I shall stay here the forehorse to a smock,
Creaking my shoes on the plain masonry,
Till honour be bought up and no sword worn
But one to dance with! By heaven, I'll steal away.
FIRST LORD There's honour in the theft.
PAROLLES Commit it, count.
SECOND LORD I am your accessary; and so, farewell.
BERTRAM I grow to you, and our parting is a tortured body.
FIRST LORD Farewell, captain.
SECOND LORD Sweet Monsieur Parolles!
(40) PAROLLES Noble 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 war, here
on his sinister cheek; it was this very sword
entrenched it: say to him, I live; and observe his
reports for me.
FIRST LORD We shall, noble captain.
[Exeunt LORDS]
PAROLLES Mars dote on you for his novices! what will ye do?
(50) BERTRAM Stay: the king.
[Re-enter KING. BERTRAM and PAROLLES retire]
PAROLLES [To BERTRAM] 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: for they wear themselves in the cap of the
time, there 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 farewell.
(60) BERTRAM And I will do so.
PAROLLES Worthy fellows; and like to prove most sinewy sword-men.
[Exeunt BERTRAM and PAROLLES]
[Enter LAFEU]
LAFEU [Kneeling] Pardon, my lord, for me and for my tidings.
KING I'll fee thee to stand up.
LAFEU Then here's a man stands, that has brought his pardon.
I would you had kneel'd, my lord, to ask me mercy,
And that at my bidding you could so stand up.
KING I would I had; so I had broke thy pate,
And ask'd thee mercy for't.
(70) LAFEU Good faith, across: but, my good lord 'tis thus;
Will you be cured of your infirmity?
KING No.
LAFEU O, 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
That's able to breathe life into a stone,
Quicken a rock, and make you dance canary
With spritely fire and motion; whose simple touch,
Is powerful to araise King Pepin, nay,
(80) To give great Charlemain a pen in's hand,
And write to her a love-line.
KING What 'her' is this?
LAFEU Why, Doctor She: my lord, there's one arrived,
If you will see her: now, by my faith and honour,
If seriously I may convey my thoughts
In this my light deliverance, I have spoke
With 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?
That done, laugh well at me.
(90) KING Now, good Lafeu,
Bring in the admiration; that we with thee
May spend our wonder too, or take off thine
By wondering how thou took'st it.
LAFEU Nay, I'll fit you,
And not be all day neither.
[Exit]
KING Thus he his special nothing ever prologues.
[Re-enter LAFEU, with HELENA]
LAFEU Nay, come your ways.
KING This haste hath wings indeed.
LAFEU Nay, come your ways:
This is his majesty; say your mind to him:
A traitor you do look like; but such traitors
(100) His majesty seldom fears: I am Cressid's uncle,
That dare leave two together; fare you well.
[Exit]
KING Now, fair one, does your business follow us?
HELENA Ay, my good lord.
Gerard de Narbon was my father;
In what he did profess, well found.
KING I knew him.
HELENA The rather will I spare my praises towards him:
Knowing him is enough. On's bed of death
Many receipts he gave me: chiefly one.
Which, as the dearest issue of his practise,
(110) And of his old experience the oily darling,
He bade me store up, as a triple eye,
Safer than mine own two, more dear; I have so;
And hearing your high majesty is touch'd
With that malignant cause wherein the honour
Of my dear father's gift stands chief in power,
I come to tender it and my appliance
With all bound humbleness.
KING We thank you, maiden;
But may not be so credulous of cure,
When our most learned doctors leave us and
(120) The congregated college have concluded
That labouring 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
To empirics, or to dissever so
Our great self and our credit, to esteem
A senseless help when help past sense we deem.
HELENA My duty then shall pay me for my pains:
I will no more enforce mine office on you.
(130) Humbly entreating from your royal thoughts
A modest one, to bear me back a again.
KING I cannot give thee less, to be call'd grateful:
Thou thought'st to help me; and such thanks I give
As one near death to those that wish him live:
But what at full I know, thou know'st no part,
I knowing all my peril, thou no art.
HELENA 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
(140) Oft does them by the weakest minister:
So 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 greatest been denied.
Oft expectation fails and most oft there
Where most it promises, and oft it hits
Where hope is coldest and despair most fits.
KING I must not hear thee; fare thee well, kind maid;
Thy pains not used must by thyself be paid:
(150) Proffers not took reap thanks for their reward.
HELENA Inspired merit so by breath is barr'd:
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
The help of heaven we count the act of men.
Dear sir, to my endeavours give consent;
Of heaven, not me, make an experiment.
I am not an impostor that proclaim
Myself against the level of mine aim;
(160) But know I think and think I know most sure
My art is not past power nor you past cure.
KING Are thou so confident? within what space
Hopest thou my cure?
HELENA The great'st grace lending grace
Ere twice the horses of the sun shall bring
Their fiery torcher his diurnal ring,
Ere twice in murk and occidental damp
Moist Hesperus hath quench'd his sleepy lamp,
Or four and twenty times the pilot's glass
Hath told the thievish minutes how they pass,
(170) What is infirm from your sound parts shall fly,
Health shall live free and sickness freely die.
KING Upon thy certainty and confidence
What darest thou venture?
HELENA Tax of impudence,
A strumpet's boldness, a divulged shame
Traduced by odious ballads: my maiden's name
Sear'd otherwise; nay, worse--if worse--extended
With vilest torture let my life be ended.
KING Methinks in thee some blessed spirit doth speak
His powerful sound within an organ weak:
(180) And what impossibility would slay
In common sense, sense saves another way.
Thy life is dear; for all that life can rate
Worth name of life in thee hath estimate,
Youth, beauty, wisdom, courage, all
That happiness and prime can happy call:
Thou this to hazard needs must intimate
Skill infinite or monstrous desperate.
Sweet practiser, thy physic I will try,
That ministers thine own death if I die.
(190) HELENA 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;
But, if I help, what do you promise me?
KING Make thy demand.
HELENA But will you make it even?
KING Ay, by my sceptre and my hopes of heaven.
HELENA Then shalt thou give me with thy kingly hand
What husband in thy power I will command:
Exempted be from me the arrogance
To choose from forth the royal blood of France,
(200) My low and humble name to propagate
With any branch or image of thy state;
But such a one, thy vassal, whom I know
Is 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,
Thy resolved patient, on thee still rely.
More should I question thee, and more I must,
Though more to know could not be more to trust,
(210) From whence thou camest, how tended on: but rest
Unquestion'd welcome and undoubted blest.
Give me some help here, ho! If thou proceed
As high as word, my deed shall match thy meed.
[Flourish. Exeunt]
SCENE II Rousillon. The Count's palace.
[Enter COUNTESS and CLOWN]
(1) COUNTESS Come on, sir; I shall now put you to the height of
your breeding.
CLOWN I will show myself highly fed and lowly taught: I
know my business is but to the court.
COUNTESS To the court! why, what place make you special,
when you put off that with such contempt? But to the court!
CLOWN Truly, madam, if God have lent a man any manners, he
may easily put it off at court: he that cannot make
(10) 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 Marry, that's a bountiful answer that fits all
questions.
CLOWN It is like a barber's chair that fits all buttocks,
the pin-buttock, the quatch-buttock, the brawn
buttock, or any buttock.
(20) COUNTESS Will your answer serve fit to all questions?
CLOWN As fit as ten groats is for the hand of an attorney,
as your French crown for your taffeta punk, as Tib's
rush for Tom's forefinger, as a pancake for Shrove
Tuesday, a morris for May-day, as the nail to his
hole, the cuckold to his horn, as a scolding queen
to a wrangling knave, as the nun's lip to the
friar's mouth, nay, as the pudding to his skin.
(30) COUNTESS Have you, I say, an answer of such fitness for all
questions?
CLOWN From 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.
CLOWN But a trifle neither, in good faith, if the learned
should 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.
(40) COUNTESS To be young again, if we could: I will be a fool in
question, hoping to be the wiser by your answer. I
pray you, sir, are you a courtier?
CLOWN 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.
CLOWN O Lord, sir! Thick, thick, spare not me.
COUNTESS I think, sir, you can eat none of this homely meat.
(50) CLOWN O Lord, sir! Nay, put me to't, I warrant you.
COUNTESS You were lately whipped, sir, as I think.
CLOWN O 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.
CLOWN I ne'er had worse luck in my life in my 'O Lord,
(60) sir!' I see things may serve long, but not serve ever.
COUNTESS I play the noble housewife with the time
To entertain't so merrily with a fool.
CLOWN O Lord, sir! why, there't serves well again.
COUNTESS An 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.
(70) CLOWN Not much commendation to them.
COUNTESS Not much employment for you: you understand me?
CLOWN Most fruitfully: I am there before my legs.
COUNTESS Haste you again.
[Exeunt severally]
SCENE III Paris. The King's palace.
[Enter BERTRAM, LAFEU, and PAROLLES]
(1) LAFEU They say miracles are past; and we have our
philosophical persons, to make modern and familiar,
things supernatural and causeless. Hence is it that
we make trifles of terrors, ensconcing ourselves
into seeming knowledge, when we should submit
ourselves to an unknown fear.
PAROLLES Why, 'tis the rarest argument of wonder that hath
shot out in our latter times.
BERTRAM And so 'tis.
(10) LAFEU To be relinquish'd of the artists,--
PAROLLES So I say.
LAFEU Both of Galen and Paracelsus.
PAROLLES So I say.
LAFEU Of all the learned and authentic fellows,--
PAROLLES Right; so I say.
LAFEU That gave him out incurable,--
PAROLLES Why, there 'tis; so say I too.
LAFEU Not to be helped,--
PAROLLES Right; as 'twere, a man assured of a--
(20) LAFEU Uncertain life, and sure death.
PAROLLES Just, you say well; so would I have said.
LAFEU I 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?
LAFEU A showing of a heavenly effect in an earthly actor.
PAROLLES That's it; I would have said the very same.
(30) LAFEU Why, your dolphin is not lustier: 'fore me,
I speak in respect--
PAROLLES Nay, 'tis strange, 'tis very strange, that is the
brief and the tedious of it; and he's of a most
facinerious spirit that will not acknowledge it to be the--
LAFEU Very hand of heaven.
PAROLLES Ay, so I say.
LAFEU In a most weak--
[pausing]
(40) PAROLLES And debile minister, great power, great
transcendence: which should, indeed, give us a
further use to be made than alone the recovery of
the king, as to be--
[pausing]
LAFEU generally thankful.
PAROLLES I would have said it; you say well. Here comes the king.
[Enter KING, HELENA, and Attendants. LAFEU and PAROLLES retire]
LAFEU Lustig, as the Dutchman says: I'll like a maid the
better, whilst I have a tooth in my head: why, he's
able to lead her a coranto.
(50) PAROLLES Mort du vinaigre! is not this Helen?
LAFEU 'Fore God, I think so.
KING Go, call before me all the lords in court.
Sit, my preserver, by thy patient's side;
And with this healthful hand, whose banish'd sense
Thou hast repeal'd, a second time receive
The confirmation of my promised gift,
Which but attends thy naming.
[Enter THREE or FOUR LORDS]
Fair maid, send forth thine eye: this youthful parcel
Of noble bachelors stand at my bestowing,
(60) O'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.
HELENA To each of you one fair and virtuous mistress
Fall, when Love please! marry, to each, but one!
LAFEU I'ld give bay Curtal and his furniture,
My mouth no more were broken than these boys',
And writ as little beard.
KING Peruse them well:
Not one of those but had a noble father.
HELENA Gentlemen,
(70) Heaven hath through me restored the king to health.
ALL We understand it, and thank heaven for you.
HELENA I am a simple maid, and therein wealthiest,
That I protest I simply am a maid.
Please it your majesty, I have done already:
The blushes in my cheeks thus whisper me,
'We blush that thou shouldst choose; but, be refused,
Let the white death sit on thy cheek for ever;
We'll ne'er come there again.'
KING Make choice; and, see,
Who shuns thy love shuns all his love in me.
(80) HELENA Now, Dian, from thy altar do I fly,
And to imperial Love, that god most high,
Do my sighs stream. Sir, will you hear my suit?
FIRST LORD And grant it.
HELENA Thanks, sir; all the rest is mute.
LAFEU I had rather be in this choice than throw ames-ace
for my life.
HELENA The honour, sir, that flames in your fair eyes,
Before I speak, too threateningly replies:
Love make your fortunes twenty times above
Her that so wishes and her humble love!
SECOND LORD No better, if you please.
(90) HELENA My wish receive,
Which great Love grant! and so, I take my leave.
LAFEU Do all they deny her? An they were sons of mine,
I'd have them whipped; or I would send them to the
Turk, to make eunuchs of.
HELENA Be not afraid that I your hand should take;
I'll never do you wrong for your own sake:
Blessing upon your vows! and in your bed
Find fairer fortune, if you ever wed!
LAFEU These boys are boys of ice, they'll none have her:
(100) sure, they are bastards to the English; the French
ne'er got 'em.
HELENA You are too young, too happy, and too good,
To make yourself a son out of my blood.
Fourth LORD Fair one, I think not so.
LAFEU There's one grape yet; I am sure thy father drunk
wine: but if thou be'st not an ass, I am a youth
of fourteen; I have known thee already.
HELENA [To BERTRAM] I dare not say I take you; but I give
(110) Me and my service, ever whilst I live,
Into your guiding power. This is the man.
KING Why, then, young Bertram, take her; she's thy wife.
BERTRAM My wife, my liege! I shall beseech your highness,
In such a business give me leave to use
The help of mine own eyes.
KING Know'st thou not, Bertram,
What she has done for me?
BERTRAM Yes, 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 But follows it, my lord, to bring me down
(120) Must answer for your raising? I know her well:
She had her breeding at my father's charge.
A poor physician's daughter my wife! Disdain
Rather corrupt me ever!
KING 'Tis only title thou disdain'st in her, the which
I can build up. Strange is it that our bloods,
Of colour, weight, and heat, pour'd all together,
Would quite confound distinction, yet stand off
In differences so mighty. If she be
All that is virtuous, save what thou dislikest,
(130) A poor physician's daughter, thou dislikest
Of virtue for the name: but do not so:
From lowest place when virtuous things proceed,
The place is dignified by the doer's deed:
Where great additions swell's, and virtue none,
It is a dropsied honour. Good alone
Is good without a name. Vileness is so:
The property by what it is should go,
Not by the title. She is young, wise, fair;
In these to nature she's immediate heir,
(140) And these breed honour: that is honour's scorn,
Which challenges itself as honour's born
And is not like the sire: honours thrive,
When rather from our acts we them derive
Than our foregoers: the mere word's a slave
Debosh'd on every tomb, on every grave
A lying trophy, and as oft is dumb
Where dust and damn'd oblivion is the tomb
Of honour'd bones indeed. What should be said?
If thou canst like this creature as a maid,
(150) I can create the rest: virtue and she
Is her own dower; honour 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 choose.
HELENA That you are well restored, my lord, I'm glad:
Let the rest go.
KING My honour's at the stake; which to defeat,
I must produce my power. Here, take her hand,
Proud scornful boy, unworthy this good gift;
That dost in vile misprision shackle up
(160) My 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,
It is in us to plant thine honour where
We please to have it grow. Cheque thy contempt:
Obey our will, which travails in thy good:
Believe not thy disdain, but presently
Do thine own fortunes that obedient right
Which both thy duty owes and our power claims;
Or I will throw thee from my care for ever
(170) Into the staggers and the careless lapse
Of youth and ignorance; both my revenge and hate
Loosing upon thee, in the name of justice,
Without all terms of pity. Speak; thine answer.
BERTRAM Pardon, my gracious lord; for I submit
My fancy to your eyes: when I consider
What great creation and what dole of honour
Flies where you bid it, I find that she, which late
Was in my nobler thoughts most base, is now
The praised of the king; who, so ennobled,
Is as 'twere born so.
(180) KING Take her by the hand,
And tell her she is thine: to whom I promise
A counterpoise, if not to thy estate
A balance more replete.
BERTRAM I take her hand.
KING Good fortune and the favour of the king
Smile upon this contract; whose ceremony
Shall seem expedient on the now-born brief,
And be perform'd to-night: the solemn feast
Shall more attend upon the coming space,
Expecting absent friends. As thou lovest her,
(190) Thy love's to me religious; else, does err.
[Exeunt all but LAFEU and PAROLLES]
LAFEU [Advancing] Do you hear, monsieur? a word with you.
PAROLLES Your pleasure, sir?
LAFEU Your lord and master did well to make his
recantation.
PAROLLES Recantation! My lord! my master!
LAFEU Ay; is it not a language I speak?
PAROLLES A most harsh one, and not to be understood without
(200) bloody succeeding. My master!
LAFEU Are you companion to the Count Rousillon?
PAROLLES To any count, to all counts, to what is man.
LAFEU To what is count's man: count's master is of
another style.
PAROLLES You are too old, sir; let it satisfy you, you are too old.
LAFEU I must tell thee, sirrah, I write man; to which
title age cannot bring thee.
(210) PAROLLES What I dare too well do, I dare not do.
LAFEU I 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 scarfs and the
bannerets about thee did manifoldly dissuade me from
believing thee a vessel of too great a burthen. I
have now found thee; when I lose thee again, I care
not: yet art thou good for nothing but taking up; and
that thou't scarce worth.
(220) PAROLLES Hadst thou not the privilege of antiquity upon thee,--
LAFEU Do 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 thee
well: thy casement I need not open, for I look
through thee. Give me thy hand.
PAROLLES My lord, you give me most egregious indignity.
(230) LAFEU Ay, with all my heart; and thou art worthy of it.
PAROLLES I have not, my lord, deserved it.
LAFEU Yes, good faith, every dram of it; and I will not
bate thee a scruple.
PAROLLES Well, I shall be wiser.
LAFEU Even as soon as thou canst, for thou hast to pull at
a smack o' the contrary. If ever thou be'st bound
in thy scarf and beaten, thou shalt find what it is
to be proud of thy bondage. I have a desire to hold
(240) my acquaintance with thee, or rather my knowledge,
that I may say in the default, he is a man I know.
PAROLLES My lord, you do me most insupportable vexation.
LAFEU I would it were hell-pains for thy sake, and my poor
doing eternal: for doing I am past: as I will by
thee, in what motion age will give me leave.
[Exit]
PAROLLES Well, thou hast a son shall take this disgrace off
(250) 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 convenience, an he were double and double a
lord. I'll have no more pity of his age than I
would of--I'll beat him, an if I could but meet him again.
[Re-enter LAFEU]
LAFEU Sirrah, your lord and master's married; there's news
for you: you have a new mistress.
PAROLLES I most unfeignedly beseech your lordship to make
(260) some reservation of your wrongs: he is my good
lord: whom I serve above is my master.
LAFEU Who? God?
PAROLLES Ay, sir.
LAFEU The devil it is that's thy master. Why dost thou
garter up thy arms o' this fashion? dost make hose of
sleeves? do other servants so? Thou wert best set
thy lower part where thy nose stands. By mine
honour, if I were but two hours younger, I'ld beat
thee: methinks, thou art a general offence, and
(270) every man should beat thee: I think thou wast
created for men to breathe themselves upon thee.
PAROLLES This is hard and undeserved measure, my lord.
LAFEU Go to, sir; you were beaten in Italy for picking a
kernel out of a pomegranate; you are a vagabond and
no true traveller: you are more saucy with lords
and honourable personages than the commission of your
birth and virtue gives you heraldry. You are not
(280) worth another word, else I'ld call you knave. I leave you.
[Exit]
PAROLLES Good, very good; it is so then: good, very good;
let it be concealed awhile.
[Re-enter BERTRAM]
BERTRAM Undone, and forfeited to cares for ever!
PAROLLES What's the matter, sweet-heart?
BERTRAM Although before the solemn priest I have sworn,
I will not bed her.
PAROLLES What, what, sweet-heart?
BERTRAM O my Parolles, they have married me!
(290) I'll to the Tuscan wars, and never bed her.
PAROLLES France is a dog-hole, and it no more merits
The tread of a man's foot: to the wars!
BERTRAM There's letters from my mother: what the import is,
I know not yet.
PAROLLES Ay, that would be known. To the wars, my boy, to the wars!
He wears his honour in a box unseen,
That hugs his kicky-wicky here at home,
Spending his manly marrow in her arms,
