All's Well That Ends Well Part 4

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, sir!' I see thing's may serve long, but not serve ever.

COUNTESS. I play the n.o.ble housewife with the time, To entertain it 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.

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

ACT II. SCENE 3.

Paris. The KING'S palace

Enter BERTRAM, LAFEU, and PAROLLES

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.

LAFEU. To be relinquish'd of the artists- PAROLLES. So I say-both of Galen and Paracelsus.

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 help'd- PAROLLES. Right; as 'twere a man a.s.sur'd of a- 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-ye-call't here.

LAFEU. [Reading the ballad t.i.tle] 'A Showing of a Heavenly Effect in an Earthly Actor.'

PAROLLES. That's it; I would have said the very same.

LAFEU. Why, your dolphin is not l.u.s.tier. '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- PAROLLES. And debile minister, great power, great transcendence; which should, indeed, give us a further use to be made than alone the recov'ry of the King, as to be- LAFEU. Generally thankful.

Enter KING, HELENA, and ATTENDANTS

PAROLLES. I would have said it; you say well. Here comes the King.

LAFEU. l.u.s.tig, 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.

PAROLLES. Mort du vinaigre! Is not this Helen?

LAFEU. 'Fore G.o.d, I think so.

KING. Go, call before me all the lords in court.

Exit an ATTENDANT Sit, my preserver, by thy patient's side; And with this healthful hand, whose banish'd sense Thou has repeal'd, a second time receive The confirmation of my promis'd gift, Which but attends thy naming.

Enter three or four LORDS

Fair maid, send forth thine eye. This youthful parcel Of n.o.ble bachelors stand at my bestowing, 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'd 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 n.o.ble father.

HELENA. Gentlemen, Heaven hath through me restor'd 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.

HELENA. Now, Dian, from thy altar do I fly, And to imperial Love, that G.o.d 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 threat'ningly replies.

Love make your fortunes twenty times above Her that so wishes, and her humble love!

SECOND LORD. No better, if you please.

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 whipt; or I would send them to th' 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.

Sure, they are b.a.s.t.a.r.ds 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 a.s.s, I am a youth of fourteen; I have known thee already.

HELENA. [To BERTRAM] I 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. 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 rais'd me from my sickly bed.

BERTRAM. But follows it, my lord, to bring me down 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 t.i.tle 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 dislik'st, A poor physician's daughter-thou dislik'st 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 t.i.tle. She is young, wise, fair; In these to nature she's immediate heir; 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 fore-goers. The mere word's a slave, Debauch'd on every tomb, on every grave A lying trophy; and as oft is dumb Where dust and d.a.m.n'd oblivion is the tomb Of honour'd bones indeed. What should be said?

If thou canst like this creature as a maid, 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 restor'd, 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 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. Check 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 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 n.o.bler thoughts most base is now The praised of the King; who, so enn.o.bled, Is as 'twere born so.

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 s.p.a.ce, Expecting absent friends. As thou lov'st her, Thy love's to me religious; else, does err.

Exeunt all but LAFEU and PAROLLES who stay behind, commenting of this wedding LAFEU. 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 b.l.o.o.d.y succeeding. My master!

LAFEU. Are you companion to the Count Rousillon?

PAROLLES. To any count; to all counts; to what is man.