3.2 Enter COUNTESS and Clown.

COUNTESS     It hath happen’d all as I would have had it,
save that he comes not along with her.
CLOWN     By my troth, I take my young lord to be a very
melancholy man.
COUNTESS     By what observance, I pray you?	5
CLOWN     Why, he will look upon his boot and sing; mend
the ruff and sing; ask questions and sing; pick his teeth
and sing. I know a man that had this trick of
melancholy sold a goodly manor for a song.
COUNTESS     Let me see what he writes, and when he	10
means to come. [Reads the letter.]
CLOWN     I have no mind to Isbel since I was at court. Our
old lings and our Isbels a’th’ country are nothing like
your old ling and your Isbels a’th’ court. The brains of
my Cupid’s knock’d out, and I begin to love as an old	15
man loves money, with no stomach.
COUNTESS     What have we here?
CLOWN     E’en that you have there.     Exit.
COUNTESS     [Reads.] I have sent you a daughter-in-law;
she hath recovered the king and undone me. I have wedded	20
her, not bedded her, and sworn to make the ‘not’ eternal.
You shall hear I am run away; know it before the report
come. If there be breadth enough in the world I will hold
a long distance. My duty to you. Your unfortunate son,
BERTRAM.	25
This is not well, rash and unbridled boy,
To fly the favours of so good a king,
To pluck his indignation on thy head
By the misprizing of a maid too virtuous
For the contempt of empire.	30
Re-enter Clown.
CLOWN     O madam, yonder is heavy news within,
between two soldiers and my young lady.
COUNTESS     What is the matter?
CLOWN     Nay, there is some comfort in the news, some
comfort; your son will not be kill’d so soon as I	35
thought he would.
COUNTESS     Why should he be kill’d?
CLOWN     So say I, madam – if he run away, as I hear he
does; the danger is in standing to’t; that’s the loss of
men, though it be the getting of children. Here they	40
come will tell you more. For my part, I only hear your
son was run away.     Exit.
Enter HELENA and the two French Lords.
1 LORD     Save you, good madam.
HELENA     Madam, my lord is gone, for ever gone.
2 LORD     Do not say so.	45
COUNTESS     Think upon patience. Pray you,
gentlemen –
I have felt so many quirks of joy and grief
That the first face of neither on the start
Can woman me unto’t. Where is my son, I pray you?
2 LORD
Madam, he’s gone to serve the Duke of Florence;	50
We met him thitherward, for thence we came,
And, after some dispatch in hand at court,
Thither we bend again.
HELENA
Look on his letter, madam; here’s my passport:
[Reads.] When thou canst get the ring upon my finger,	55
which never shall come off, and show me a child begotten
of thy body that I am father to, then call me husband; but
in such a ‘then’ I write a ‘never’.
This is a dreadful sentence.
COUNTESS     Brought you this letter, gentlemen?	60
1 LORD     Ay, madam; and for the contents’ sake are sorry
for our pains.
COUNTESS     I prithee, lady, have a better cheer.
If thou engrossest all the griefs are thine
Thou robb’st me of a moiety. He was my son,	65
But I do wash his name out of my blood
And thou art all my child. Towards Florence is he?
2 LORD     Ay, madam.
COUNTESS     And to be a soldier?
2 LORD     Such is his noble purpose; and, believe’t,
The duke will lay upon him all the honour	70
That good convenience claims.
COUNTESS     Return you thither?
1 LORD     Ay, madam, with the swiftest wing of speed.
HELENA     [Reads.] Till I have no wife I have nothing in France.
’Tis bitter.
COUNTESS     Find you that there?
HELENA     Ay, madam.	75
1 LORD     ’Tis but the boldness of his hand, haply, which
his heart was not consenting to.
COUNTESS     Nothing in France until he have no wife!
There’s nothing here that is too good for him
But only she, and she deserves a lord	80
That twenty such rude boys might tend upon
And call her, hourly, mistress. Who was with him?
1 LORD     A servant only, and a gentleman which I have
sometime known.
COUNTESS     Parolles, was it not?	85
1 LORD     Ay, my good lady, he.
COUNTESS     A very tainted fellow, and full of wickedness;
My son corrupts a well-derived nature
With his inducement.
1 LORD     Indeed, good lady,
The fellow has a deal of that too much,	90
Which holds him much to have.
COUNTESS     Y’are welcome, gentlemen.
I will entreat you, when you see my son,
To tell him that his sword can never win
The honour that he loses; more I’ll entreat you
Written to bear along.
2 LORD     We serve you, madam,	95
In that and all your worthiest affairs.
COUNTESS     Not so, but as we change our courtesies.
Will you draw near?      Exeunt Countess and Lords.
HELENA     ‘Till I have no wife I have nothing in France.’
Nothing in France until he has no wife!	100
Thou shalt have none, Rossillion, none in France;
Then hast thou all again. Poor lord, is’t I
That chase thee from thy country, and expose
Those tender limbs of thine to the event
Of the none-sparing war? And is it I	105
That drive thee from the sportive court, where thou
Wast shot at with fair eyes, to be the mark
Of smoky muskets? O you leaden messengers,
That ride upon the violent speed of fire,
Fly with false aim; move the still-piecing air	110
That sings with piercing; do not touch my lord.
Whoever shoots at him, I set him there;
Whoever charges on his forward breast,
I am the caitiff that do hold him to’t;
And though I kill him not, I am the cause	115
His death was so effected. Better ’twere
I met the ravin lion when he roar’d
With sharp constraint of hunger; better ’twere
That all the miseries which nature owes
Were mine at once. No; come thou home, Rossillion,	120
Whence honour but of danger wins a scar,
As oft it loses all; I will be gone;
My being here it is that holds thee hence.
Shall I stay here to do’t? No, no, although
The air of paradise did fan the house	125
And angels offic’d all. I will be gone,
That pitiful rumour may report my flight
To consolate thine ear. Come, night; end, day;
For with the dark, poor thief, I’ll steal away.     Exit.

3.3 Flourish. Enter the DUKE of Florence, BERTRAM, drum and trumpets, soldiers, PAROLLES.

DUKE     The general of our horse thou art, and we,
Great in our hope, lay our best love and credence
Upon thy promising fortune.
BERTRAM     Sir, it is
A charge too heavy for my strength; but yet
We’ll strive to bear it for your worthy sake	5
To th’extreme edge of hazard.
DUKE     Then go thou forth;
And fortune play upon thy prosperous helm
As thy auspicious mistress!
BERTRAM     This very day,
Great Mars, I put myself into thy file;
Make me but like my thoughts and I shall prove	10
A lover of thy drum, hater of love.     Exeunt omnes.

3.4 Enter COUNTESS and Steward.

COUNTESS     Alas! and would you take the letter of her?
Might you not know she would do as she has done
By sending me a letter? Read it again.
STEWARD     [Reads.]
I am Saint Jaques’ pilgrim, thither gone.
Ambitious love hath so in me offended	5
That barefoot plod I the cold ground upon,
With sainted vow my faults to have amended.
Write, write, that from the bloody course of war
My dearest master, your dear son, may hie.
Bless him at home in peace, whilst I from far	10
His name with zealous fervour sanctify.
His taken labours bid him me forgive;
I, his despiteful Juno, sent him forth
From courtly friends, with camping foes to live
Where death and danger dogs the heels of worth.	15
He is too good and fair for death and me;
Whom I myself embrace to set him free.
COUNTESS
Ah, what sharp stings are in her mildest words!
Rynaldo, you did never lack advice so much
As letting her pass so; had I spoke with her,	20
I could have well diverted her intents,
Which thus she hath prevented.
STEWARD     Pardon me, madam;
If I had given you this at overnight
She might have been o’erta’en; and yet she writes
Pursuit would be but vain.
COUNTESS     What angel shall	25
Bless this unworthy husband? He cannot thrive,
Unless her prayers, whom heaven delights to hear
And loves to grant, reprieve him from the wrath
Of greatest justice. Write, write, Rynaldo,
To this unworthy husband of his wife;	30
Let every word weigh heavy of her worth
That he does weigh too light; my greatest grief,
Though little he do feel it, set down sharply.
Dispatch the most convenient messenger.
When haply he shall hear that she is gone,	35
He will return; and hope I may that she,
Hearing so much, will speed her foot again,
Led hither by pure love. Which of them both
Is dearest to me I have no skill in sense
To make distinction. Provide this messenger.	40
My heart is heavy and mine age is weak;
Grief would have tears and sorrow bids me speak.
Exeunt.

3.5 A tucket afar off. Enter old Widow of Florence, her daughter DIANA, VIOLENTA and MARIANA, with other citizens.

WIDOW     Nay, come; for if they do approach the city, we
shall lose all the sight.
DIANA     They say the French count has done most
honourable service.
WIDOW     It is reported that he has taken their great’st	5
commander, and that with his own hand he slew the
duke’s brother. [Tucket.] We have lost our labour; they
are gone a contrary way. Hark! You may know by their
trumpets.
MARIANA     Come, let’s return again and suffice ourselves	10
with the report of it. Well, Diana, take heed of this
French earl; the honour of a maid is her name, and no
legacy is so rich as honesty.
WIDOW     I have told my neighbour how you have been
solicited by a gentleman his companion.	15
MARIANA     I know that knave, hang him! one Parolles; a
filthy officer he is in those suggestions for the young
earl. Beware of them, Diana: their promises,
enticements, oaths, tokens, and all these engines of
lust, are not the things they go under; many a maid	20
hath been seduced by them; and the misery is,
example, that so terrible shows in the wrack of
maidenhood, cannot for all that dissuade succession,
but that they are limed with the twigs that threatens
them. I hope I need not to advise you further; but I	25
hope your own grace will keep you where you are,
though there were no further danger known but the
modesty which is so lost.
DIANA     You shall not need to fear me.
Enter HELENA.
WIDOW     I hope so. Look, here comes a pilgrim. I know	30
she will lie at my house; thither they send one another.
I’ll question her: God save you, pilgrim! Whither are
bound?
HELENA     To Saint Jaques le Grand.
Where do the palmers lodge, I do beseech you?	35
WIDOW     At the Saint Francis here beside the port.
HELENA     Is this the way?     [A march afar.]
WIDOW     Ay, marry, is’t. Hark you, they come this way.
If you will tarry, holy pilgrim
But till the troops come by	40
I will conduct you where you shall be lodg’d;
The rather for I think I know your hostess
As ample as myself.
HELENA     Is it yourself?
WIDOW     If you shall please so, pilgrim.
HELENA     I thank you and will stay upon your leisure.	45
WIDOW     You came, I think, from France?
HELENA     I did so.
WIDOW     Here you shall see a countryman of yours
That has done worthy service.
HELENA     His name, I pray you.
DIANA     The Count Rossillion. Know you such a one?
HELENA     But by the ear, that hears most nobly of him;	50
His face I know not.
DIANA     Whatsome’er he is,
He’s bravely taken here. He stole from France,
As ’tis reported, for the king had married him
Against his liking. Think you it is so?
HELENA     Ay, surely, mere the truth; I know his lady.	55
DIANA     There is a gentleman that serves the count
Reports but coarsely of her.
HELENA     What’s his name?
DIANA     Monsieur Parolles.
HELENA     O, I believe with him,
In argument of praise or to the worth
Of the great count himself, she is too mean	60
To have her name repeated; all her deserving
Is a reserved honesty, and that
I have not heard examin’d.
DIANA     Alas, poor lady!
’Tis a hard bondage to become the wife
Of a detesting lord.	65
WIDOW     I warrant, good creature, wheresoe’er she is,
Her heart weighs sadly. This young maid might do
her
A shrewd turn if she pleas’d.
HELENA     How do you mean?
Maybe the amorous count solicits her
In the unlawful purpose?
WIDOW     He does indeed,	70
And brokes with all that can in such a suit
Corrupt the tender honour of a maid;
But she is arm’d for him and keeps her guard
In honestest defence.
Drum and colours. Enter BERTRAM, PAROLLES and the whole army.
MARIANA     The gods forbid else!
WIDOW     So, now they come.	75
That is Antonio, the duke’s eldest son;
That Escalus.
HELENA     Which is the Frenchman?
DIANA     He –
That with the plume; ’tis a most gallant fellow.
I would he lov’d his wife; if he were honester
He were much goodlier. Is’t not a handsome
gentleman?	80
HELENA     I like him well.
DIANA
’Tis pity he is not honest. Yond’s that same knave
That leads him to these places. Were I his lady
I would poison that vile rascal.
HELENA     Which is he?
DIANA
That jackanapes with scarfs. Why is he melancholy?	85
HELENA     Perchance he’s hurt i’th’ battle.
PAROLLES     Lose our drum! Well!
MARIANA     He’s shrewdly vex’d at something. Look, he
has spied us.
WIDOW     Marry, hang you!	90
MARIANA     And your curtsy, for a ring-carrier!
Exeunt Bertram, Parolles and the army.
WIDOW
The troop is past. Come, pilgrim, I will bring you
Where you shall host; of enjoin’d penitents
There’s four or five, to Great Saint Jaques bound,
Already at my house.
HELENA     I humbly thank you.	95
Please it this matron and this gentle maid
To eat with us tonight; the charge and thanking
Shall be for me; and, to requite you further,
I will bestow some precepts of this virgin,
Worthy the note.
BOTH     We’ll take your offer kindly.     Exeunt.	100

3.6 Enter BERTRAM and the two French Lords.

1 LORD     Nay, good my lord, put him to’t; let him have
his way.
2 LORD     If your lordship find him not a hilding, hold me
no more in your respect.
1 LORD     On my life, my lord, a bubble.	5
BERTRAM     Do you think I am so far deceived in him?
1 LORD     Believe it, my lord, in mine own direct
knowledge, without any malice, but to speak of him as
my kinsman, he’s a most notable coward, an infinite
and endless liar, an hourly promise-breaker, the owner	10
of no one good quality worthy your lordship’s enter-
tainment.
2 LORD     It were fit you knew him; lest, reposing too far in
his virtue, which he hath not, he might at some great
and trusty business in a main danger fail you.	15
BERTRAM     I would I knew in what particular action to
try him.
2 LORD     None better than to let him fetch off his drum,
which you hear him so confidently undertake to do.
1 LORD     I, with a troop of Florentines, will suddenly	20
surprise him; such I will have whom I am sure he
knows not from the enemy. We will bind and
hoodwink him so, that he shall suppose no other but
that he is carried into the leaguer of the adversaries
when we bring him to our own tents. Be but your	25
lordship present at his examination; if he do not for
the promise of his life, and in the highest compulsion
of base fear, offer to betray you and deliver all the
intelligence in his power against you, and that with the
divine forfeit of his soul upon oath, never trust my	30
judgment in anything.
2 LORD     O, for the love of laughter, let him fetch his
drum; he says he has a stratagem for’t. When your
lordship sees the bottom of his success in’t, and to
what metal this counterfeit lump of ore will be melted,	35
if you give him not John Drum’s entertainment your
inclining cannot be removed. Here he comes.
Enter PAROLLES.
1 LORD     O, for the love of laughter, hinder not the
honour of his design; let him fetch off his drum in any
hand.	40
BERTRAM     How now, monsieur! This drum sticks sorely
in your disposition.
2 LORD     A pox on’t! let it go; ’tis but a drum.
PAROLLES     But a drum! Is’t but a drum? A drum so lost!
There was excellent command: to charge in with our	45
horse upon our own wings and to rend our own
soldiers!
2 LORD     That was not to be blam’d in the command of
the service; it was a disaster of war that Caesar himself
could not have prevented if he had been there to	50
command.
BERTRAM     Well, we cannot greatly condemn our
success; some dishonour we had in the loss of that
drum, but it is not to be recovered.
PAROLLES     It might have been recovered.	55
BERTRAM     It might; but it is not now.
PAROLLES     It is to be recovered. But that the merit of
service is seldom attributed to the true and exact
performer, I would have that drum or another, or hic
jacet.	60
BERTRAM     Why, if you have a stomach, to’t, monsieur! If
you think your mystery in stratagem can bring this
instrument of honour again into his native quarter, be
magnanimious in the enterprise and go on; I will grace
the attempt for a worthy exploit; if you speed well in it	65
the duke shall both speak of it and extend to you what
further becomes his greatness, even to the utmost
syllable of your worthiness.
PAROLLES     By the hand of a soldier, I will undertake it.
BERTRAM     But you must not now slumber in it.	70
PAROLLES     I’ll about it this evening; and I will presently
pen down my dilemmas, encourage myself in my
certainty, put myself into my mortal preparation; and
by midnight look to hear further from me.
BERTRAM     May I be bold to acquaint his grace you are	75
gone about it?
PAROLLES     I know not what the success will be, my lord,
but the attempt I vow.
BERTRAM     I know th’art valiant; and to the possibility of
thy soldiership will subscribe for thee. Farewell.	80
PAROLLES     I love not many words.     Exit.
1 LORD     No more than a fish loves water. Is not this a
strange fellow, my lord, that so confidently seems to
undertake this business, which he knows is not to be
done; damns himself to do, and dares better be damn’d	85
than to do’t.
2 LORD     You do not know him, my lord, as we do; certain
it is that he will steal himself into a man’s favour and
for a week escape a great deal of discoveries, but when
you find him out you have him ever after.	90
BERTRAM     Why, do you think he will make no deed at all
of this that so seriously he does address himself unto?
1 LORD     None in the world; but return with an invention,
and clap upon you two or three probable lies; but we
have almost emboss’d him; you shall see his fall tonight;	95
for indeed he is not for your lordship’s respect.
2 LORD     We’ll make you some sport with the fox ere we
case him; he was first smok’d by the old Lord Lafew;
when his disguise and he is parted tell me what a sprat
you shall find him; which you shall see this very night.	100
1 LORD     I must go look my twigs. He shall be caught.
BERTRAM     Your brother, he shall go along with me.
1 LORD     As’t please your lordship. I’ll leave you. Exit.
BERTRAM
Now will I lead you to the house and show you
The lass I spoke of.
2 LORD     But you say she’s honest.	105
BERTRAM
That’s all the fault. I spoke with her but once
And found her wondrous cold, but I sent to her
By this same coxcomb that we have i’th’ wind
Tokens and letters which she did re-send
And this is all I have done. She’s a fair creature;	110
Will you go see her?
2 LORD     With all my heart, my lord.
Exeunt.

3.7 Enter HELENA and Widow.

HELENA     If you misdoubt me that I am not she,
I know not how I shall assure you further
But I shall lose the grounds I work upon.
WIDOW     Though my estate be fall’n, I was well born,
Nothing acquainted with these businesses,	5
And would not put my reputation now
In any staining act.
HELENA     Nor would I wish you.
First give me trust the count he is my husband,
And what to your sworn counsel I have spoken
Is so from word to word; and then you cannot,	10
By the good aid that I of you shall borrow,
Err in bestowing it.
WIDOW     I should believe you,
For you have show’d me that which well approves
Y’are great in fortune.
HELENA     Take this purse of gold,
And let me buy your friendly help thus far,	15
Which I will over-pay, and pay again
When I have found it. The count he woos your
daughter,
Lays down his wanton siege before her beauty,
Resolv’d to carry her; let her in fine consent
As we’ll direct her how ’tis best to bear it.	20
Now his important blood will naught deny
That she’ll demand; a ring the county wears
That downward hath succeeded in his house
From son to son some four or five descents
Since the first father wore it. This ring he holds	25
In most rich choice; yet, in his idle fire,
To buy his will it would not seem too dear,
Howe’er repented after.
WIDOW     Now I see
The bottom of your purpose.
HELENA     You see it lawful then; it is no more	30
But that your daughter, ere she seems as won,
Desires this ring; appoints him an encounter;
In fine, delivers me to fill the time,
Herself most chastely absent. After,
To marry her I’ll add three thousand crowns	35
To what is pass’d already.
WIDOW     I have yielded.
Instruct my daughter how she shall persever
That time and place with this deceit so lawful
May prove coherent. Every night he comes
With musics of all sorts, and songs compos’d	40
To her unworthiness; it nothing steads us
To chide him from our eaves, for he persists
As if his life lay on’t.
HELENA     Why then tonight
Let us assay our plot; which, if it speed,
Is wicked meaning in a lawful deed,	45
And lawful meaning in a lawful act,
Where both not sin, and yet a sinful fact.
But let’s about it.     Exeunt.

4.1 Enter first French Lord, with five or six other soldiers in ambush.

1 LORD     He can come no other way but by this hedge-
corner. When you sally upon him speak what terrible
language you will; though you understand it not
yourselves, no matter; for we must not seem to
understand him, unless some one among us, whom we	5
must produce for an interpreter.
1 SOLDIER     Good captain, let me be th’interpreter.
1 LORD     Art not acquainted with him? Knows he not thy
voice?
1 SOLDIER     No sir, I warrant you.	10
1 LORD     But what linsey-woolsey hast thou to speak to
us again?
1 SOLDIER     E’en such as you speak to me.
1 LORD     He must think us some band of strangers i’th’
adversary’s entertainment. Now he hath a smack of all	15
neighbouring languages; therefore we must every one
be a man of his own fancy, not to know what we speak
one to another; so we seem to know is to know straight
our purpose – choughs’ language: gabble enough and
good enough. As for you, interpreter, you must seem	20
very politic. But couch, ho! Here he comes to beguile
two hours in a sleep, and then to return and swear the
lies he forges.
Enter PAROLLES.
PAROLLES     Ten a’clock. Within these three hours ’twill be
time enough to go home. What shall I say I have done?	25
It must be a very plausive invention that carries it. They
begin to smoke me, and disgraces have of late knock’d
too often at my door. I find my tongue is too foolhardy,
but my heart hath the fear of Mars before it and of his
creatures, not daring the reports of my tongue.	30
1 LORD     This is the first truth that e’er thine own tongue
was guilty of.
PAROLLES     What the devil should move me to undertake
the recovery of this drum, being not ignorant of the
impossibility, and knowing I had no such purpose? I	35
must give myself some hurts, and say I got them in
exploit; yet slight ones will not carry it. They will say,
‘Came you off with so little?’ And great ones I dare not
give; wherefore, what’s the instance? Tongue, I must
put you into a butter-woman’s mouth, and buy myself	40
another of Bajazeth’s mule if you prattle me into these
perils.
1 LORD     Is it possible he should know what he is, and be
that he is?
PAROLLES     I would the cutting of my garments would	45
serve the turn, or the breaking of my Spanish sword.
1 LORD     We cannot afford you so.
PAROLLES     Or the baring of my beard, and to say it was
in stratagem.
1 LORD     ’Twould not do.	50
PAROLLES     Or to drown my clothes and say I was
stripp’d.
1 LORD     Hardly serve.
PAROLLES     Though I swore I leap’d from the window of
the citadel –	55
1 LORD     How deep?
PAROLLES     Thirty fadom.
1 LORD     Three great oaths would scarce make that be
believed.
PAROLLES     I would I had any drum of the enemy’s; I	60
would swear I recover’d it.
1 LORD     You shall hear one anon.
PAROLLES     A drum now of the enemy’s –
[Alarum within.]
1 LORD     Throca movousus, cargo, cargo, cargo.
ALL     Cargo, cargo, cargo, villianda par corbo, cargo.	65
[They seize him.]
PAROLLES     O, ransom, ransom! [They blindfold him.] Do
not hide mine eyes.
1 SOLDIER     Boskos thromuldo boskos.
PAROLLES     I know you are the Muskos’ regiment,
And I shall lose my life for want of language.	70
If there be here German, or Dane, Low Dutch,
Italian, or French, let him speak to me,
I’ll discover that which shall undo the Florentine.
1 SOLDIER     Boskos vauvado. I understand thee, and can
speak thy tongue. Kerelybonto. Sir, betake thee to thy	75
faith, for seventeen poniards are at thy bosom.
PAROLLES     O!
1 SOLDIER     O, pray, pray, pray! Manka revania dulche.
1 LORD     Oscorbidulchos volivorco.
1 SOLDIER     The general is content to spare thee yet,	80
And, hoodwink’d as thou art, will lead thee on
To gather from thee. Haply thou may’st inform
Something to save thy life.
PAROLLES     O, let me live,
And all the secrets of our camp I’ll show,
Their force, their purposes; nay, I’ll speak that	85
Which you will wonder at.
1 SOLDIER     But wilt thou faithfully?
PAROLLES     If I do not, damn me.
1 SOLDIER     Acordo linta.
Come on; thou art granted space.
Exit with Parolles guarded.
[A short alarum within]
1 LORD     Go tell the Count Rossillion and my brother
We have caught the woodcock and will keep him
muffled	90
Till we do hear from them.
2 SOLDIER     Captain, I will.
1 LORD     ’A will betray us all unto ourselves:
Inform on that.
2 SOLDIER     So I will, sir.
1 LORD     Till then I’ll keep him dark and safely lock’d.	95
Exeunt.

4.2 Enter BERTRAM and the maid called DIANA.

BERTRAM
They told me that your name was Fontybell.
DIANA     No, my good lord, Diana.
BERTRAM     Titled goddess;
And worth it, with addition! But, fair soul,
In your fine frame hath love no quality?
If the quick fire of youth light not your mind	5
You are no maiden but a monument.
When you are dead you should be such a one
As you are now; for you are cold and stern,
And now you should be as your mother was
When your sweet self was got.	10
DIANA     She then was honest.
BERTRAM     So should you be.
DIANA     No.
My mother did but duty; such, my lord,
As you owe to your wife.
BERTRAM     No more a’ that!
I prithee do not strive against my vows;
I was compell’d to her, but I love thee	15
By love’s own sweet constraint, and will for ever
Do thee all rights of service.
DIANA     Ay, so you serve us
Till we serve you; but when you have our roses,
You barely leave our thorns to prick ourselves,
And mock us with our bareness.
BERTRAM     How have I sworn!	20
DIANA     ’Tis not the many oaths that makes the truth,
But the plain single vow that is vow’d true.
What is not holy, that we swear not by,
But take the high’st to witness; then, pray you, tell me:
If I should swear by Jove’s great attributes	25
I lov’d you dearly, would you believe my oaths
When I did love you ill? This has no holding,
To swear by Him whom I protest to love
That I will work against Him. Therefore your oaths
Are words, and poor conditions but unseal’d –	30
At least in my opinion.
BERTRAM     Change it, change it.
Be not so holy-cruel; love is holy;
And my integrity ne’er knew the crafts
That you do charge men with. Stand no more off,
But give thyself unto my sick desires,	35
Who then recovers. Say thou art mine, and ever
My love as it begins shall so persever.
DIANA     I see that men make rope’s in such a scarre,
That we’ll forsake ourselves. Give me that ring.
BERTRAM     I’ll lend it thee, my dear, but have no power	40
To give it from me.
DIANA     Will you not, my lord?
BERTRAM     It is an honour ’longing to our house,
Bequeathed down from many ancestors,
Which were the greatest obloquy i’th’ world
In me to lose.
DIANA     Mine honour’s such a ring;	45
My chastity’s the jewel of our house,
Bequeathed down from many ancestors,
Which were the greatest obloquy i’th’ world
In me to lose. Thus your own proper wisdom
Brings in the champion Honour on my part	50
Against your vain assault.
BERTRAM     Here, take my ring;
My house, mine honour, yea, my life be thine,
And I’ll be bid by thee.
DIANA     When midnight comes, knock at my chamber
window;
I’ll order take my mother shall not hear.	55
Now will I charge you in the band of truth,
When you have conquer’d my yet maiden bed,
Remain there but an hour, nor speak to me.
My reasons are most strong and you shall know them
When back again this ring shall be deliver’d;	60
And on your finger in the night I’ll put
Another ring, that what in time proceeds
May token to the future our past deeds
Adieu till then; then, fail not. You have won
A wife of me, though there my hope be done.	65
BERTRAM
A heaven on earth I have won by wooing thee. Exit.
DIANA
For which live long to thank both Heaven and me!
You may so in the end.
My mother told me just how he would woo
As if she sat in’s heart. She says all men	70
Have the like oaths. He had sworn to marry me
When his wife’s dead; therefore I’ll lie with him
When I am buried. Since Frenchmen are so braid,
Marry that will, I live and die a maid.
Only, in this disguise, I think’t no sin	75
To cozen him that would unjustly win.     Exit.

4.3 Enter the two French Lords, and some two or three soldiers.

1 LORD     You have not given him his mother’s letter?
2 LORD     I have deliv’red it an hour since; there is
something in’t that stings his nature, for on the
reading it he chang’d almost into another man.
1 LORD     He has much worthy blame laid upon him for	5
shaking off so good a wife and so sweet a lady.
2 LORD     Especially he hath incurred the everlasting
displeasure of the king, who had even tun’d his bounty
to sing happiness to him. I will tell you a thing, but
you shall let it dwell darkly with you.	10
1 LORD     When you have spoken it ’tis dead, and I am the
grave of it.
2 LORD     He hath perverted a young gentlewoman here in
Florence, of a most chaste renown, and this night he
fleshes his will in the spoil of her honour; he hath	15
given her his monumental ring, and thinks himself
made in the unchaste composition.
1 LORD     Now, God delay our rebellion! As we are
ourselves, what things are we!
2 LORD     Merely our own traitors. And as in the	20
common course of all treasons we still see them reveal
themselves till they attain to their abhorr’d ends; so he
that in this action contrives against his own nobility, in
his proper stream o’erflows himself.
1 LORD     Is it not meant damnable in us to be trumpeters	25
of our unlawful intents? We shall not then have his
company tonight?
2 LORD     Not till after midnight, for he is dieted to his
hour.
1 LORD     That approaches apace. I would gladly have	30
him see his company anatomiz’d, that he might take a
measure of his own judgments wherein so curiously he
had set this counterfeit.
2 LORD     We will not meddle with him till he come, for
his presence must be the whip of the other.	35
1 LORD     In the meantime, what hear you of these wars?
2 LORD     I hear there is an overture of peace.
1 LORD     Nay, I assure you, a peace concluded.
2 LORD     What will Count Rossillion do then? Will he
travel higher, or return again into France?	40
1 LORD     I perceive by this demand you are not
altogether of his council.
2 LORD     Let it be forbid, sir! So should I be a great deal
of his act.
1 LORD     Sir, his wife some two months since fled from	45
his house. Her pretence is a pilgrimage to Saint Jaques
le Grand; which holy undertaking with most austere
sanctimony she accomplish’d; and there residing, the
tenderness of her nature became as a prey to her grief;
in fine, made a groan of her last breath, and now she	50
sings in heaven.
2 LORD     How is this justified?
1 LORD     The stronger part of it by her own letters,
which makes her story true even to the point of her
death. Her death itself, which could not be her office	55
to say is come, was faithfully confirm’d by the rector
of the place.
2 LORD     Hath the count all this intelligence?
1 LORD     Ay, and the particular confirmations, point
from point, to the full arming of the verity.	60
2 LORD     I am heartily sorry that he’ll be glad of this.
1 LORD     How mightily sometimes we make us comforts
of our losses!
2 LORD     And how mightily some other times we drown
our gain in tears! The great dignity that his valour	65
hath here acquir’d for him shall at home be
encount’red with a shame as ample.
1 LORD     The web of our life is of a mingled yarn, good
and ill together; our virtues would be proud if our
faults whipp’d them not, and our crimes would	70
despair if they were not cherish’d by our virtues.
Enter a Messenger.
How now? Where’s your master?
MESSENGER     He met the duke in the street, sir, of whom
he hath taken a solemn leave: his lordship will next
morning for France. The duke hath offered him	75
letters of commendations to the king.
2 LORD     They shall be no more than needful there if they
were more than they can commend.
Enter BERTRAM.
1 LORD     They cannot be too sweet for the king’s tartness.
Here’s his lordship now. How now, my lord? Is’t not	80
after midnight?
BERTRAM     I have tonight dispatch’d sixteen businesses a
month’s length apiece. By an abstract of success: I
have congied with the duke, done my adieu with his
nearest, buried a wife, mourn’d for her, writ to my lady	85
mother I am returning, entertain’d my convoy, and
between these main parcels of dispatch effected many
nicer needs; the last was the greatest, but that I have
not ended yet.
2 LORD     If the business be of any difficulty, and this	90
morning your departure hence, it requires haste of
your lordship.
BERTRAM     I mean, the business is not ended, as fearing
to hear of it hereafter. But shall we have this dialogue
between the Fool and the Soldier? Come, bring forth	95
this counterfeit module has deceiv’d me like a double-
meaning prophesier.
2 LORD     Bring him forth. Exeunt soldiers.
Has sat i’th’ stocks all night, poor gallant knave.
BERTRAM     No matter. His heels have deserv’d it in	100
usurping his spurs so long. How does he carry
himself?
2 LORD     I have told your lordship already: the stocks
carry him. But to answer you as you would be
understood: he weeps like a wench that had shed her	105
milk; he hath confess’d himself to Morgan, whom he
supposes to be a friar, from the time of his
remembrance to this very instant disaster of his setting
i’th’ stocks. And what think you he hath confess’d?
BERTRAM     Nothing of me, has ’a?	110
2 LORD     His confession is taken, and it shall be read to
his face; if your lordship be in’t, as I believe you are,
you must have the patience to hear it.
Re-enter soldiers and PAROLLES, with first Soldier as his interpreter.
BERTRAM     A plague upon him! muffled! He can say
nothing of me.	115
1 LORD     [aside to BERTRAM] Hush, hush! Hoodman
comes. [aloud] Portotartarossa.
1 SOLDIER     He calls for the tortures. What will you say
without ’em?
PAROLLES     I will confess what I know without	120
constraint. If ye pinch me like a pasty I can say no
more.
1 SOLDIER     Bosko chimurcho.
1 LORD     Boblibindo chicurmurco.
1 SOLDIER     You are a merciful general. Our general bids	125
you answer to what I shall ask you out of a note.
PAROLLES     And truly, as I hope to live.
1 SOLDIER     [Reads.] First, demand of him, how many horse
the duke is strong. What say you to that?
PAROLLES     Five or six thousand; but very weak and	130
unserviceable: the troops are all scattered and the
commanders very poor rogues, upon my reputation
and credit – and as I hope to live.
1 SOLDIER     Shall I set down your answer so?
PAROLLES     Do. I’ll take the sacrament on’t, how and	135
which way you will.
BERTRAM     All’s one to him. What a past-saving slave is
this!
1 LORD     Y’are deceiv’d, my lord; this is Monsieur
Parolles, the gallant militarist – that was his own	140
phrase – that had the whole theoric of war in the knot
of his scarf, and the practice in the chape of his dagger.
2 LORD     I will never trust a man again for keeping his
sword clean, nor believe he can have everything in him
by wearing his apparel neatly.	145
1 SOLDIER     Well, that’s set down.
PAROLLES     ‘Five or six thousand horse’ I said – I will say
true – ‘or thereabouts’ set down, for I’ll speak truth.
1 LORD     He’s very near the truth in this.
BERTRAM     But I con him no thanks for’t, in the nature	150
he delivers it.
PAROLLES     ‘Poor rogues’ I pray you say.
1 SOLDIER     Well, that’s set down.
PAROLLES     I humbly thank you, sir; a truth’s a truth; the
rogues are marvellous poor.	155
1 SOLDIER     [Reads.] Demand of him of what strength they
are a-foot. What say you to that?
PAROLLES     By my troth, sir, if I were to live this present
hour, I will tell true. Let me see: Spurio, a hundred
and fifty; Sebastian, so many; Corambus, so many;	160
Jaques, so many; Guiltian, Cosmo, Lodowick, and
Gratii, two hundred fifty each; mine own company,
Chitopher, Vaumond, Bentii, two hundred fifty each;
so that the muster-file, rotten and sound, upon my life,
amounts not to fifteen thousand poll; half of the which	165
dare not shake the snow from off their cassocks lest
they shake themselves to pieces.
BERTRAM     What shall be done to him?
1 LORD     Nothing but let him have thanks. Demand of
him my condition, and what credit I have with the	170
duke.
1 SOLDIER     Well, that’s set down. [Reads.] You shall
demand of him whether one Captain Dumaine be i’th’
camp, a Frenchman; what his reputation is with the duke,
what his valour, honesty and expertness in wars; or	175
whether he thinks it were not possible with well-weighing
sums of gold to corrupt him to a revolt. What say you to
this? What do you know of it?
PAROLLES     I beseech you, let me answer to the particular
of the inter’gatories. Demand them singly.	180
1 SOLDIER     Do you know this Captain Dumaine?
PAROLLES     I know him: ’a was a botcher’s prentice in
Paris, from whence he was whipp’d for getting the
shrieve’s fool with child, a dumb innocent that could
not say him nay.	185
BERTRAM     Nay, by your leave, hold your hands – though
I know his brains are forfeit to the next tile that falls.
1 SOLDIER     Well, is this captain in the Duke of
Florence’s camp?
PAROLLES     Upon my knowledge he is, and lousy.	190
1 LORD     Nay, look not so upon me; we shall hear of your
lordship anon.
1 SOLDIER     What is his reputation with the duke?
PAROLLES     The duke knows him for no other but a poor
officer of mine, and writ to me this other day to turn	195
him out a’th’ band. I think I have his letter in my
pocket.
1 SOLDIER     Marry, we’ll search.
PAROLLES     In good sadness, I do not know; either it is
there or it is upon a file, with the duke’s other letters,	200
in my tent.
1 SOLDIER     Here ’tis; here’s a paper; shall I read it to
you?
PAROLLES     I do not know if it be it or no.
BERTRAM     Our interpreter does it well.	205
1 LORD     Excellently.
1 SOLDIER     [Reads.] Dian, the count’s a fool, and full of gold.
PAROLLES     That is not the duke’s letter, sir; that is an
advertisement to a proper maid in Florence, one
Diana, to take heed of the allurement of one Count	210
Rossillion, a foolish idle boy, but for all that very
ruttish. I pray you, sir, put it up again.
1 SOLDIER     Nay, I’ll read it first by your favour.
PAROLLES     My meaning in’t, I protest, was very honest
in the behalf of the maid; for I knew the young count	215
to be a dangerous and lascivious boy, who is a whale to
virginity, and devours up all the fry it finds.
BERTRAM     Damnable both-sides rogue!
1 SOLDIER     [Reads.]
When he swears oaths, bid him drop gold, and take it;
After he scores he never pays the score.	220
Half-won is match well made; match, and well make it;
He ne’er pays after-debts; take it before.
And say a soldier, Dian, told thee this:
Men are to mell with, boys are not to kiss;
For count of this, the count’s a fool, I know it,	225
Who pays before, but not when he does owe it.
Thine, as he vow’d to thee in thine ear,
PAROLLES.
BERTRAM     He shall be whipp’d through the army, with
his rhyme in’s forehead.	230
2 LORD     This is your devoted friend, sir, the manifold
linguist, and the armipotent soldier.
BERTRAM     I could endure anything before but a cat, and
now he’s a cat to me.
1 SOLDIER     I perceive, sir, by the general’s looks, we shall	235
be fain to hang you.
PAROLLES     My life, sir, in any case! Not that I am afraid
to die, but that, my offences being many, I would
repent out the remainder of nature. Let me live, sir, in
a dungeon, i’th’ stocks, or anywhere, so I may live.	240
1 SOLDIER     We’ll see what may be done, so you confess
freely. Therefore once more to this Captain Dumaine:
you have answer’d to his reputation with the duke and
to his valour; what is his honesty?
PAROLLES     He will steal, sir, an egg out of a cloister; for	245
rapes and ravishments he parallels Nessus. He professes
not keeping of oaths; in breaking ’em he is stronger than
Hercules. He will lie, sir, with such volubility that you
would think truth were a fool; drunkenness is his best
virtue, for he will be swine-drunk, and in his sleep he	250
does little harm, save to his bedclothes about him; but
they know his conditions and lay him in straw. I have
but little more to say, sir, of his honesty: he has
everything that an honest man should not have; what an
honest man should have, he has nothing.	255
1 LORD     I begin to love him for this.
BERTRAM     For this description of thine honesty? A pox
upon him! for me, he’s more and more a cat.
1 SOLDIER     What say you to his expertness in war?
PAROLLES     Faith, sir, has led the drum before the	260
English tragedians – to belie him I will not – and more
of his soldiership I know not, except in that country he
had the honour to be the officer at a place there called
Mile-end, to instruct for the doubling of files. I would
do the man what honour I can, but of this I am not	265
certain.
1 LORD     He hath out-villain’d villainy so far that the
rarity redeems him.
BERTRAM     A pox on him! He’s a cat still.
1 SOLDIER     His qualities being at this poor price, I need	270
not to ask you if gold will corrupt him to revolt.
PAROLLES     Sir, for a cardecue he will sell the fee-simple
of his salvation, the inheritance of it, and cut th’entail
from all remainders, and a perpetual succession for it
perpetually.	275
1 SOLDIER     What’s his brother, the other Captain
Dumaine?
2 LORD     Why does he ask him of me?
1 SOLDIER     What’s he?
PAROLLES     E’en a crow a’th’ same nest; not altogether so	280
great as the first in goodness, but greater a great deal
in evil. He excels his brother for a coward, yet his
brother is reputed one of the best that is. In a retreat
he outruns any lackey; marry, in coming on he has the
cramp.	285
1 SOLDIER     If your life be saved will you undertake to
betray the Florentine?
PAROLLES     Ay, and the captain of his horse, Count
Rossillion.
1 SOLDIER     I’ll whisper with the general and know his	290
pleasure.
PAROLLES     I’ll no more drumming. A plague of all
drums! Only to seem to deserve well, and to beguile
the supposition of that lascivious young boy, the
count, have I run into this danger; yet who would have	295
suspected an ambush where I was taken?
1 SOLDIER     There is no remedy, sir, but you must die.
The general says you that have so traitorously
discover’d the secrets of your army, and made such
pestiferous reports of men very nobly held, can serve	300
the world for no honest use; therefore you must die.
Come, headsman, off with his head.
PAROLLES     O Lord, sir, let me live, or let me see my
death!
1 SOLDIER     That shall you, and take your leave of all your	305
friends. [unmuffling him] So; look about you; know you
any here?
BERTRAM     Good morrow, noble captain.
2 LORD     God bless you, Captain Parolles.
1 LORD     God save you, noble captain.	310
2 LORD     Captain, what greeting will you to my Lord
Lafew? I am for France.
1 LORD     Good captain, will you give me a copy of the
sonnet you writ to Diana in behalf of the Count
Rossillion. And I were not a very coward I’d compel it	315
of you; but fare you well.     Exeunt Bertram     and Lords.
1 SOLDIER     You are undone, captain – all but your scarf;
that has a knot on’t yet.
PAROLLES     Who cannot be crush’d with a plot?
1 SOLDIER     If you could find out a country where but	320
women were that had received so much shame you
might begin an impudent nation. Fare ye well, sir. I
am for France too; we shall speak of you there.
Exeunt Soldiers.
PAROLLES     Yet am I thankful. If my heart were great
’Twould burst at this. Captain I’ll be no more,	325
But I will eat and drink and sleep as soft
As captain shall. Simply the thing I am
Shall make me live. Who knows himself a braggart,
Let him fear this; for it will come to pass
That every braggart shall be found an ass.	330
Rust, sword; cool, blushes; and Parolles live
Safest in shame; being fool’d, by fool’ry thrive.
There’s place and means for every man alive.
I’ll after them.     Exit.

4.4 Enter HELENA, Widow and DIANA.

HELENA
That you may well perceive I have not wrong’d you
One of the greatest in the Christian world
Shall be my surety; fore whose throne ’tis needful,
Ere I can perfect mine intents, to kneel.
Time was, I did him a desired office,	5
Dear almost as his life; which gratitude
Through flinty Tartar’s bosom would peep forth
And answer thanks. I duly am inform’d
His grace is at Marcellus, to which place
We have convenient convoy. You must know	10
I am supposed dead. The army breaking,
My husband hies him home, where, heaven aiding,
And by the leave of my good lord the king,
We’ll be before our welcome.
WIDOW     Gentle madam,
You never had a servant to whose trust	15
Your business was more welcome.
HELENA     Nor you, mistress,
Ever a friend whose thoughts more truly labour
To recompense your love. Doubt not but heaven
Hath brought me up to be your daughter’s dower,
As it hath fated her to be my motive	20
And helper to a husband. But, O strange men!
That can such sweet use make of what they hate,
When saucy trusting of the cozen’d thoughts
Defiles the pitchy night; so lust doth play
With what it loathes for that which is away.	25
But more of this hereafter. You, Diana,
Under my poor instructions yet must suffer
Something in my behalf.
DIANA     Let death and honesty
Go with your impositions, I am yours,
Upon your will to suffer.
HELENA     Yet, I pray you;	30
But with the word: ‘the time will bring on summer’ –
When briars shall have leaves as well as thorns
And be as sweet as sharp. We must away;
Our wagon is prepar’d, and time revives us.
All’s well that ends well; still the fine’s the crown.	35
Whate’er the course, the end is the renown.     Exeunt.

4.5 Enter Clown, COUNTESS and LAFEW

LAFEW     No, no, no, your son was misled with a snipp’d-
taffeta fellow there, whose villainous saffron would
have made all the unbak’d and doughy youth of a
nation in his colour. Your daughter-in-law had been
alive at this hour, and your son here at home, more	5
advanc’d by the king than by that red-tail’d humble-
bee I speak of.
COUNTESS     I would I had not known him; it was the
death of the most virtuous gentlewoman that ever
nature had praise for creating. If she had partaken of	10
my flesh and cost me the dearest groans of a mother I
could not have owed her a more rooted love.
LAFEW     ’Twas a good lady; ’twas a good lady. We may pick
a thousand sallets ere we light on such another herb.
CLOWN     Indeed, sir, she was the sweet-marjoram of the	15
sallet, or, rather, the herb of grace.
LAFEW     They are not herbs, you knave; they are nose-
herbs.
CLOWN     I am no great Nabuchadnezzar, sir; I have not
much skill in grass.	20
LAFEW     Whether dost thou profess thyself – a knave or a
fool?
CLOWN     A fool, sir, at a woman’s service, and a knave at
a man’s.
LAFEW     Your distinction?	25
CLOWN     I would cozen the man of his wife and do his
service.
LAFEW     So you were a knave at his service indeed.
CLOWN     And I would give his wife my bauble, sir, to do
her service.	30
LAFEW     I will subscribe for thee; thou art both knave and
fool.
CLOWN     At your service.
LAFEW     No, no, no.
CLOWN     Why, sir, if I cannot serve you I can serve as	35
great a prince as you are.
LAFEW     Who’s that? a Frenchman?
CLOWN     Faith, sir, ’a has an English name; but his
fisnomy is more hotter in France than there.
LAFEW     What prince is that?	40
CLOWN     The black prince, sir, alias the prince of
darkness, alias the devil.
LAFEW     Hold thee, there’s my purse. I give thee not this
to suggest thee from thy master thou talk’st of; serve
him still.	45
CLOWN     I am a woodland fellow, sir, that always loved a
great fire, and the master I speak of ever keeps a good
fire; but sure he is the prince of the world; let his
nobility remain in’s court, I am for the house with the
narrow gate, which I take to be too little for pomp to	50
enter; some that humble themselves may, but the
many will be too chill and tender, and they’ll be for the
flow’ry way that leads to the broad gate and the great
fire.
LAFEW     Go thy ways; I begin to be aweary of thee; and I	55
tell thee so before, because I would not fall out with
thee. Go thy ways; let my horses be well look’d to,
without any tricks.
CLOWN     If I put any tricks upon ’em, sir, they shall be
jades’ tricks, which are their own right by the law of	60
nature.     Exit.
LAFEW     A shrewd knave and an unhappy.
COUNTESS     So ’a is. My lord that’s gone made himself
much sport out of him; by his authority he remains
here, which he thinks is a patent for his sauciness; and	65
indeed he has no pace, but runs where he will.
LAFEW     I like him well; ’tis not amiss. And I was about
to tell you, since I heard of the good lady’s death and
that my lord your son was upon his return home, I
moved the king my master to speak in the behalf of my	70
daughter; which, in the minority of them both, his
majesty out of a self-gracious remembrance did first
propose. His highness hath promis’d me to do it; and
to stop up the displeasure he hath conceived against
your son there is no fitter matter. How does your	75
ladyship like it?
COUNTESS     With very much content, my lord, and I
wish it happily effected.
LAFEW     His highness comes post from Marcellus, of as
able body as when he number’d thirty. ’A will be here	80
tomorrow, or I am deceiv’d by him that in such
intelligence hath seldom fail’d.
COUNTESS     It rejoices me that I hope I shall see him ere
I die. I have letters that my son will be here tonight. I
shall beseech your lordship to remain with me till they	85
meet together.
LAFEW     Madam, I was thinking with what manners I
might safely be admitted.
COUNTESS     You need but plead your honourable
privilege.	90
LAFEW     Lady, of that I have made a bold charter; but, I
thank my God, it holds yet.
Re-enter Clown.
CLOWN     O madam, yonder’s my lord your son with a
patch of velvet on’s face; whether there be a scar
under’t or no, the velvet knows; but ’tis a goodly patch	95
of velvet. His left cheek is a cheek of two pile and a
half, but his right cheek is worn bare.
LAFEW     A scar nobly got, or a noble scar, is a good liv’ry
of honour; so belike is that.
CLOWN     But it is your carbonado’d face.	100
LAFEW     Let us go see your son, I pray you. I long to talk
with the young noble soldier.
CLOWN     Faith, there’s a dozen of ’em with delicate fine
hats, and most courteous feathers which bow the head
and nod at every man.     Exeunt.	105

5.1 Enter HELENA, Widow and DIANA, with two attendants.

HELENA     But this exceeding posting day and night
Must wear your spirits low. We cannot help it;
But since you have made the days and nights as one
To wear your gentle limbs in my affairs,
Be bold you do so grow in my requital	5
As nothing can unroot you.
Enter a Gentleman, a stranger.
In happy time!
This man may help me to his majesty’s ear,
If he would spend his power. God save you, sir!
GENTLEMAN     And you.
HELENA     Sir, I have seen you in the court of France.	10
GENTLEMAN     I have been sometimes there.
HELENA     I do presume, sir, that you are not fall’n
From the report that goes upon your goodness,
And therefore, goaded with most sharp occasions
Which lay nice manners by, I put you to	15
The use of your own virtues, for the which
I shall continue thankful.
GENTLEMAN     What’s your will?
HELENA     That it will please you
To give this poor petition to the king,
And aid me with that store of power you have	20
To come into his presence.
GENTLEMAN     The king’s not here.
HELENA     Not here, sir?
GENTLEMAN     Not indeed.
He hence remov’d last night, and with more haste
Than is his use.
WIDOW     Lord, how we lose our pains!
HELENA     All’s well that ends well yet,	25
Though time seem so adverse and means unfit.
I do beseech you, whither is he gone?
GENTLEMAN     Marry, as I take it, to Rossillion;
Whither I am going.
HELENA     I do beseech you, sir,
Since you are like to see the king before me,	30
Commend the paper to his gracious hand,
Which I presume shall render you no blame,
But rather make you thank your pains for it.
I will come after you with what good speed
Our means will make us means.
GENTLEMAN     This I’ll do for you.	35
HELENA
And you shall find yourself to be well thank’d,
Whate’er falls more. We must to horse again.
Go, go, provide.     Exeunt.

5.2 Enter Clown and PAROLLES.

PAROLLES     Good Master Lavatch, give my Lord Lafew
this letter; I have ere now, sir, been better known to
you, when I have held familiarity with fresher clothes;
but I am now, sir, muddied in Fortune’s mood, and
smell somewhat strong of her strong displeasure.	5
CLOWN     Truly, Fortune’s displeasure is but sluttish if it
smell so strongly as thou speak’st of. I will henceforth
eat no fish of Fortune’s butt’ring. Prithee, allow the
wind.
PAROLLES     Nay, you need not to stop your nose, sir. I	10
spake but by a metaphor.
CLOWN     Indeed, sir, if your metaphor stink I will stop
my nose, or against any man’s metaphor. Prithee, get
thee further.
PAROLLES     Pray you, sir, deliver me this paper.	15
CLOWN     Foh! Prithee stand away. A paper from
Fortune’s close-stool, to give to a nobleman! Look,
here he comes himself.
Enter LAFEW.
Here is a pur of Fortune’s, sir, or of Fortune’s cat, but
not a musk-cat, that has fall’n into the unclean	20
fishpond of her displeasure and, as he says, is muddied
withal. Pray you, sir, use the carp as you may, for he
looks like a poor, decayed, ingenious, foolish, rascally
knave. I do pity his distress in my similes of comfort,
and leave him to your lordship.     Exit.	25
PAROLLES     My lord, I am a man whom Fortune hath
cruelly scratch’d.
LAFEW     And what would you have me to do? ’Tis too
late to pare her nails now. Wherein have you played
the knave with Fortune that she should scratch you,	30
who of herself is a good lady and would not have
knaves thrive long under her? There’s a cardecue for
you. Let the justices make you and Fortune friends; I
am for other business.
PAROLLES     I beseech your honour to hear me one single	35
word.
LAFEW     You beg a single penny more. Come, you shall
ha’t; save your word.
PAROLLES     My name, my good lord, is Parolles.
LAFEW     You beg more than ‘word’ then. Cox my	40
passion! Give me your hand. How does your drum?
PAROLLES     O my good lord, you were the first that found
me.
LAFEW     Was I, in sooth? And I was the first that lost
thee.	45
PAROLLES     It lies in you, my lord, to bring me in some
grace, for you did bring me out.
LAFEW     Out upon thee, knave! dost thou put upon me at
once both the office of God and the devil? One brings
thee in Grace and the other brings thee out. [Trumpets	50
sound.] The king’s coming; I know by his trumpets.
Sirrah, inquire further after me. I had talk of you last
night; though you are a fool and a knave you shall eat.
Go to; follow.
PAROLLES     I praise God for you.     Exeunt.	55

5.3 Flourish. Enter KING, COUNTESS, LAFEW, the two French Lords, with attendants.

KING     We lost a jewel of her, and our esteem
Was made much poorer by it; but your son,
As mad in folly, lack’d the sense to know
Her estimation home.
COUNTESS     ’Tis past, my liege,
And I beseech your majesty to make it	5
Natural rebellion done i’th’ blade of youth,
When oil and fire, too strong for reason’s force,
O’erbears it and burns on.
KING     My honour’d lady,
I have forgiven and forgotten all,
Though my revenges were high bent upon him	10
And watch’d the time to shoot.
LAFEW     This I must say –
But first I beg my pardon – the young lord
Did to his majesty, his mother and his lady
Offence of mighty note, but to himself
The greatest wrong of all. He lost a wife	15
Whose beauty did astonish the survey
Of richest eyes; whose words all ears took captive;
Whose dear perfection hearts that scorn’d to serve
Humbly call’d mistress.
KING     Praising what is lost
Makes the remembrance dear. Well, call him hither;	20
We are reconcil’d, and the first view shall kill
All repetition. Let him not ask our pardon;
The nature of his great offence is dead,
And deeper than oblivion we do bury
Th’incensing relics of it. Let him approach	25
A stranger, no offender; and inform him
So ’tis our will he should.
GENTLEMAN     I shall, my liege.     Exit.
KING
What says he to your daughter? Have you spoke?
LAFEW     All that he is hath reference to your highness.
KING     Then shall we have a match. I have letters sent me	30
That sets him high in fame.
Enter BERTRAM.
LAFEW     He looks well on’t.
KING     I am not a day of season,
For thou may’st see a sunshine and a hail
In me at once. But to the brightest beams
Distracted clouds give way; so stand thou forth;	35
The time is fair again.
BERTRAM     My high-repented blames
Dear sovereign, pardon to me.
KING     All is whole.
Not one word more of the consumed time;
Let’s take the instant by the forward top;
For we are old, and on our quick’st decrees	40
Th’inaudible and noiseless foot of time
Steals ere we can effect them. You remember
The daughter of this lord?
BERTRAM     Admiringly, my liege. At first
I stuck my choice upon her, ere my heart	45
Durst make too bold a herald of my tongue;
Where, the impression of mine eye infixing,
Contempt his scornful perspective did lend me,
Which warp’d the line of every other favour,
Scorn’d a fair colour or express’d it stol’n,	50
Extended or contracted all proportions
To a most hideous object. Thence it came
That she whom all men prais’d, and whom myself
Since I have lost, have lov’d, was in mine eye
The dust that did offend it.
KING     Well excus’d.	55
That thou didst love her, strikes some scores away
From the great compt; but love that comes too late,
Like a remorseful pardon slowly carried,
To the great sender turns a sour offence,
Crying, ‘That’s good that’s gone’. Our rash faults	60
Make trivial price of serious things we have,
Not knowing them until we know their grave.
Oft our displeasures, to ourselves unjust,
Destroy our friends and after weep their dust;
Our own love waking cries to see what’s done,	65
While shameful hate sleeps out the afternoon.
Be this sweet Helen’s knell, and now forget her.
Send forth your amorous token for fair Maudlin.
The main consents are had, and here we’ll stay
To see our widower’s second marriage-day.	70
COUNTESS
Which better than the first, O dear heaven, bless!
Or, ere they meet, in me, O nature, cesse!
LAFEW     Come on, my son, in whom my house’s name
Must be digested; give a favour from you
To sparkle in the spirits of my daughter,	75
That she may quickly come. [Bertram     gives a ring.]
By my old beard
And ev’ry hair that’s on’t, Helen that’s dead
Was a sweet creature; such a ring as this,
The last that e’er I took her leave at court,
I saw upon her finger.
BERTRAM     Hers it was not.	80
KING     Now pray you let me see it; for mine eye,
While I was speaking, oft was fasten’d to’t.
This ring was mine, and when I gave it Helen
I bade her, if her fortunes ever stood
Necessitied to help, that by this token	85
I would relieve her. Had you that craft to reave her
Of what should stead her most?
BERTRAM     My gracious sovereign,
Howe’er it pleases you to take it so,
The ring was never hers.
COUNTESS     Son, on my life,
I have seen her wear it, and she reckon’d it	90
At her life’s rate.
LAFEW     I am sure I saw her wear it.
BERTRAM     You are deceiv’d, my lord; she never saw it.
In Florence was it from a casement thrown me,
Wrapp’d in a paper which contain’d the name
Of her that threw it. Noble she was, and thought	95
I stood ingag’d; but when I had subscrib’d
To mine own fortune, and inform’d her fully
I could not answer in that course of honour
As she had made the overture, she ceas’d
In heavy satisfaction, and would never	100
Receive the ring again.
KING     Plutus himself,
That knows the tinct and multiplying med’cine,
Hath not in nature’s mystery more science
Than I have in this ring. ’Twas mine, ’twas Helen’s,
Whoever gave it you; then if you know	105
That you are well acquainted with yourself,
Confess ’twas hers, and by what rough enforcement
You got it from her. She call’d the saints to surety
That she would never put it from her finger
Unless she gave it to yourself in bed,	110
Where you have never come, or sent it us
Upon her great disaster.
BERTRAM     She never saw it.
KING     Thou speak’st it falsely, as I love mine honour,
And mak’st conjectural fears to come into me
Which I would fain shut out. If it should prove	115
That thou art so inhuman – ’twill not prove so,
And yet I know not; thou didst hate her deadly,
And she is dead; which nothing but to close
Her eyes myself could win me to believe,
More than to see this ring. Take him away.	120
My fore-past proofs, howe’er the matter fall,
Shall tax my fears of little vanity,
Having vainly fear’d too little. Away with him.
We’ll sift this matter further.
BERTRAM     If you shall prove
This ring was ever hers, you shall as easy	125
Prove that I husbanded her bed in Florence,
Where yet she never was.     Exit, guarded.
KING     I am wrapp’d in dismal thinkings.
Enter the Gentleman stranger.
GENTLEMAN     Gracious sovereign,
Whether I have been to blame or no, I know not:
Here’s a petition from a Florentine	130
Who hath for four or five removes come short
To tender it herself. I undertook it,
Vanquish’d thereto by the fair grace and speech
Of the poor suppliant, who, by this, I know,
Is here attending; her business looks in her	135
With an importing visage, and she told me,
In a sweet verbal brief, it did concern
Your highness with herself.
KING     [Reads the letter.] Upon his many protestations to
marry me when his wife was dead, I blush to say it, he won	140
me. Now is the Count Rossillion a widower; his vows are
forfeited to me and my honour’s paid to him. He stole
from Florence, taking no leave, and I follow him to his
country for justice. Grant it me, O king! In you it best
lies; otherwise a seducer flourishes, and a poor maid is	145
undone.
DIANA CAPILET.
LAFEW     I will buy me a son-in-law in a fair, and toll for
this. I’ll none of him.
KING     The heavens have thought well on thee, Lafew,	150
To bring forth this discov’ry. Seek these suitors.
Go speedily, and bring again the count.
Exeunt attendants.
I am afear’d the life of Helen, lady,
Was foully snatch’d.
COUNTESS     Now justice on the doers!
Re-enter BERTRAM guarded.
KING     I wonder, sir, since wives are monsters to you,	155
And that you fly them as you swear them lordship,
Yet you desire to marry.
Enter Widow and DIANA.
What woman’s that?
DIANA     I am, my lord, a wretched Florentine,
Derived from the ancient Capilet;
My suit, as I do understand, you know,	160
And therefore know how far I may be pitied.
WIDOW     I am her mother, sir, whose age and honour
Both suffer under this complaint we bring,
And both shall cease, without your remedy.
KING     Come hither, count; do you know these women?	165
BERTRAM     My lord, I neither can nor will deny
But that I know them. Do they charge me further?
DIANA     Why do you look so strange upon your wife?
BERTRAM     She’s none of mine, my lord.
DIANA     If you shall marry
You give away this hand and that is mine,	170
You give away heaven’s vows and those are mine,
You give away myself which is known mine;
For I by vow am so embodied yours
That she which marries you must marry me –
Either both or none.	175
LAFEW
Your reputation comes too short for my daughter;
You are no husband for her.
BERTRAM
My lord, this is a fond and desp’rate creature
Whom sometime I have laugh’d with. Let your
highness
Lay a more noble thought upon mine honour	180
Than for to think that I would sink it here.
KING
Sir, for my thoughts, you have them ill to friend
Till your deeds gain them; fairer prove your honour
Than in my thought it lies!
DIANA     Good my lord,
Ask him upon his oath if he does think	185
He had not my virginity.
KING     What say’st thou to her?
BERTRAM     She’s impudent, my lord,
And was a common gamester to the camp.
DIANA     He does me wrong, my lord; if I were so
He might have bought me at a common price.	190
Do not believe him. O behold this ring
Whose high respect and rich validity
Did lack a parallel; yet for all that
He gave it to a commoner a’th’ camp –
If I be one.
COUNTESS     He blushes and ’tis hit.	195
Of six preceding ancestors, that gem
Conferr’d by testament to th’ sequent issue,
Hath it been owed and worn. This is his wife:
That ring’s a thousand proofs.
KING     Methought you said
You saw one here in court could witness it.	200
DIANA     I did, my lord, but loath am to produce
So bad an instrument; his name’s Parolles.
LAFEW     I saw the man today, if man he be.
KING
Find him and bring him hither.     Exit an attendant.
BERTRAM     What of him?
He’s quoted for a most perfidious slave	205
With all the spots a’th’ world tax’d and debosh’d,
Whose nature sickens but to speak a truth.
Am I or that or this for what he’ll utter,
That will speak anything?
KING     She hath that ring of yours.
BERTRAM     I think she has. Certain it is I lik’d her	210
And boarded her i’th’ wanton way of youth.
She knew her distance and did angle for me,
Madding my eagerness with her restraint,
As all impediments in fancy’s course
Are motives of more fancy; and in fine	215
Her inf ’nite cunning with her modern grace
Subdu’d me to her rate; she got the ring,
And I had that which any inferior might
At market-price have bought.
DIANA     I must be patient.
You that have turn’d off a first so noble wife	220
May justly diet me. I pray you yet –
Since you lack virtue I will lose a husband –
Send for your ring, I will return it home,
And give me mine again.
BERTRAM     I have it not.
KING     What ring was yours, I pray you?
DIANA     Sir, much like	225
The same upon your finger.
KING     Know you this ring? This ring was his of late.
DIANA     And this was it I gave him, being abed.
KING     The story then goes false you threw it him
Out of a casement?
DIANA     I have spoke the truth.	230
Enter PAROLLES.
BERTRAM     My lord, I do confess the ring was hers.
KING     You boggle shrewdly; every feather starts you.
Is this the man you speak of?
DIANA     Ay, my lord.
KING     Tell me, sirrah – but tell me true I charge you,
Not fearing the displeasure of your master,	235
Which on your just proceeding I’ll keep off –
By him and by this woman here what know you?
PAROLLES     So please your majesty, my master hath been
an honourable gentleman. Tricks he hath had in him,
which gentlemen have.	240
KING     Come, come, to th’ purpose. Did he love this
woman?
PAROLLES     Faith, sir, he did love her; but how?
KING     How, I pray you?
PAROLLES     He did love her, sir, as a gentleman loves a	245
woman.
KING     How is that?
PAROLLES     He lov’d her, sir, and lov’d her not.
KING     As thou art a knave and no knave. What an
equivocal companion is this!	250
PAROLLES     I am a poor man, and at your majesty’s
command.
LAFEW     He’s a good drum, my lord, but a naughty
orator.
DIANA     Do you know he promis’d me marriage?	255
PAROLLES     Faith, I know more than I’ll speak.
KING     But wilt thou not speak all thou know’st?
PAROLLES     Yes, so please your majesty. I did go between
them as I said; but more than that, he loved her, for
indeed he was mad for her and talk’d of Satan and of	260
Limbo and of furies and I know not what; yet I was in
that credit with them at that time that I knew of their
going to bed and of other motions, as promising her
marriage and things which would derive me ill will to
speak of; therefore I will not speak what I know.	265
KING     Thou hast spoken all already, unless thou canst
say they are married; but thou art too fine in thy
evidence; therefore, stand aside.
This ring you say was yours?
DIANA     Ay, my good lord.
KING     Where did you buy it? Or who gave it you?	270
DIANA     It was not given me, nor I did not buy it.
KING     Who lent it you?
DIANA     It was not lent me neither.
KING     Where did you find it then?
DIANA     I found it not.
KING     If it were yours by none of all these ways
How could you give it him?
DIANA     I never gave it him.	275
LAFEW     This woman’s an easy glove, my lord; she goes
off and on at pleasure.
KING     This ring was mine; I gave it his first wife.
DIANA     It might be yours or hers for ought I know.
KING     Take her away. I do not like her now.	280
To prison with her. And away with him.
Unless thou tell’st me where thou hadst this ring
Thou diest within this hour.
DIANA     I’ll never tell you.
KING     Take her away.
DIANA     I’ll put in bail, my liege.
KING     I think thee now some common customer.	285
DIANA     By Jove, if ever I knew man ’twas you.
KING     Wherefore hast thou accus’d him all this while?
DIANA     Because he’s guilty and he is not guilty.
He knows I am no maid, and he’ll swear to’t;
I’ll swear I am a maid and he knows not.	290
Great king, I am no strumpet; by my life
I am either maid or else this old man’s wife.
KING     She does abuse our ears. To prison with her.
DIANA     Good mother, fetch my bail. Stay, royal sir;
Exit Widow.
The jeweller that owes the ring is sent for	295
And he shall surety me. But for this lord
Who hath abus’d me as he knows himself –
Though yet he never harm’d me – here I quit him.
He knows himself my bed he hath defil’d;
And at that time he got his wife with child.	300
Dead though she be she feels her young one kick.
So there’s my riddle: one that’s dead is quick,
And now behold the meaning.
Re-enter Widow with HELENA.
KING     Is there no exorcist
Beguiles the truer office of mine eyes?
Is’t real that I see?
HELENA     No, my good lord;	305
’Tis but the shadow of a wife you see;
The name and not the thing.
BERTRAM     Both, both. O pardon!
HELENA     O my good lord, when I was like this maid
I found you wondrous kind. There is your ring,
And, look you, here’s your letter. This it says:	310
When from my finger you can get this ring
And is by me with child, etc. This is done;
Will you be mine now you are doubly won?
BERTRAM
If she, my liege, can make me know this clearly
I’ll love her dearly, ever, ever dearly.	315
HELENA     If it appear not plain and prove untrue
Deadly divorce step between me and you!
O my dear mother, do I see you living?
LAFEW     Mine eyes smell onions; I shall weep anon. [to
Parolles] Good Tom Drum, lend me a handkercher.	320
So, I thank thee. Wait on me home, I’ll make sport
with thee. Let thy curtsies alone, they are scurvy ones.
KING     Let us from point to point this story know
To make the even truth in pleasure flow.
[to Diana] If thou beest yet a fresh uncropped flower	325
Choose thou thy husband and I’ll pay thy dower;
For I can guess that by thy honest aid
Thou kept’st a wife herself, thyself a maid.
Of that and all the progress more and less
Resolvedly more leisure shall express.	330
All yet seems well, and if it end so meet,
The bitter past, more welcome is the sweet.
[Flourish.]

EPILOGUE

The king’s a beggar, now the play is done;
All is well ended if this suit be won,
That you express content; which we will pay
With strife to please you, day exceeding day.
Ours be your patience then and yours our parts;	5
Your gentle hands lend us and take our hearts.
Exeunt omnes.