ALL'S WELL THAT ENDS WELL.

249

be jades' tricks; which are their own right by the law of nature.

[Exit.

Laf. A shrewd knave, and an unhappy.5 remains here, which he thinks is a patent for his Count. So he is. My lord, that's gone, made himself much sport out of him: by his authority he where he will. sauciness; and, indeed, he has no pace, but runs

And be as sweet as sharp. We must away;
Our waggon is prepar'd, and time revives us :
All's well that ends well: still the fine's! the crown;
Whate'er the course, the end is the renown. [Exc.
SCENE V-Rousillon. A room in the Countess's
Palace. Enter Countess, Lafeu, and Clown.
Laf. No, no, no, your son was misled with a
snipt-taffata fellow there; whose villanous saffron2
would have made all the unbaked and doughy about to tell you. Since I heard of the good lady's
Laf. I like him well: 'tis not amiss: and I was
youth of a nation in his colour: your daughter-in-death, and that my lord your son was upon his re-
law had been alive at this hour; and your son
here at home, more advanced by the king, than by
that red-tailed humble-bee I speak of.

Count. 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 my flesh, and cost me the dearest groans of a mother, I could not have owed her a more rooted love.

turn home, I moved the king my master, to speak in the behalf of my daughter; which, in the micious remembrance, did first propose: his highnority of them both, his majesty, out of a self-graness hath promised me to do it: and, to stop up the displeasure he hath conceived against your son, there is no fitter matter. How does your ladyship like it?

Count. With very much content, my lord, and

Laf 'Twas a good lady, 'twas a good lady: weI wish it happily effected. may pick a thousand salads, ere we light on such another herb.

Clo. Indeed, sir, she was the sweet-marjoram of the salad, or, rather the herb of grace.3

Laf. They are not salad-herbs, you knave, they are nose-herbs.

Clo. I am no great Nebuchadnezzar, sir, I have not much skill in grass.

Laf. Whether dost thou profess thyself; a knave, or a fool?

Clo. A fool, sir, at a woman's service, and a knave at a man's.

Laf. Your distinction?

Laf. His highness comes post from Marseilles, will be here to-morrow, or I am deceived by him of as able body as when he numbered thirty; he that in such intelligence hath seldom failed.

Count. It rejoices ine, that I hope I shall see him to-night: I shall beseech your lordship, to remain ere I die. I have letters, that my son will be here with me till they meet together.

Laf. Madam, I was thinking, with what manners I might safely be admitted.

Count. You need but plead your honourable privilege.

Clo. I would cozen the man of his wife, and do but, I thank my God, it holds yet. his service.

Laf. Lady, of that I have made a bold charter;

Laf. So you were a knave at his service, indeed.

Clo. And I would give his wife my bauble, sir,

to do her service.

Laf. I will subscribe for thee; thou art both

knave and fool.

Clo. At your service.

Laf. No, no, no.

Clo. Why, sir, if I cannot serve you, I can serve as great a prince as you are.

Laf. Who's that? a Frenchman?

Clo. Faith, sir, he has an English name; but his phisnomy is more hotter in France, than there. Laf. What prince is that?

Clo. The black prince, sir, alias, the prince of darkness; alias, the devil.

Laf. Hold thee, there's my purse: I give thee not this to suggest thee from thy master thou talkest of; serve him still.

Clo. 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 his court. am for the house with the narrow gate, which I take to be too little for pomp to enter: some, that humble themselves, may; but the many will be too chill and tender; and they'll be for the flowery way, that leads to the broad gate, and the great fire. Laf. Go thy ways, I begin to be a-weary of thee; and I tell thee so before, because I would not fall out with thee. Go thy ways; let my horses be well looked to, without any tricks.

Clo. If I put any tricks upon 'em, sir, they shall (1) End.

(2) There was a fashion of using yellow starch for bands and ruffles, to which Lafeu alludes. (3) i. e. Rue. (4) Seduce.

Re-enter Clown.

scar under it, or no, the velvet knows; but 'tis a Clo. O madam, yonder's my lord your son with a patch of velvet on's face whether there be a goodly patch of velvet: his left cheek is a cheek of two pile and a half, but his right cheek is worn bare. Laf. A scar nobly got, or a noble scar, is a good livery of honour; so, belike, is that.

Clo. But it is your carbonadoeds face. Laf. Let us go see your son, I pray you; I long to talk with the young noble soldier.

fine hats, and most courteous feathers, which bow Clo. 'Faith, there's a dozen of 'em, with delicate the head, and nod at every man.

ACT V.

[Exeunt.

SCENE I.-Marseilles. A street. Enter Helena,
Widow, and Diana, with two attendants.
Must wear your spirits low: we cannot help it;
Hel. But this exceeding posting, day and night,
But, since you have made the days and nights as

one,

To wear your gentle limbs in
Be bold, you do so grow in my requital,
As nothing can unroot you. In happy time;-
my affairs,
This man may help me to his majesty's ear,
Enter a gentle Astringer.7
If he would spend his power.-God save you, sir.
Gent. And you.

Hel. Sir, I have seen you in the court of France.
Gent. I have been sometimes there.

(5) Mischievously unhappy, waggish.
(6) Scotched like a piece of meat for the gridiron.
A gentleman Falconer.

Not here, sir?

Gent.
Not, indeed;
He hence remov'd last night, and with more haste
Than is his use.
Wid.

Lord, how we lose our pains!
Hel. All's well that ends well; yet;
Though time seem so adverse, and means unfit.-

I do beseech you, whither is he gone?
Gent. Marry, as I take it, to Rousillon;
Whither I am going.

Hel.
I do beseech you, sir,
Since you are like to see the king before me,
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.

Gent.

This I'll do for

you.

too late to pare her nails now. Wherein have you played the knave with fortune, that she should scratch you, who of herself is a good lady, and would not have knaves thrive long under her? There's a quart d'ecu for you: Let the justices make you and fortune friends; I am for other busi

ness.

Par. I beseech your honour, to hear me one single word.

Laf. You beg a single penny more: come, you shall ha't; save your word.

Par. My name, my good lord, is Parolles.

Laf. You beg more than one word then.-Cox' my passion! give me your hand :-How does your drum?

Par. O my good lord, you were the first that found me.

Laf. Was I, in sooth? and I was the first that

lost thee.

Par. It lies in you, my lord, to bring me in some grace, for you did bring me out.

Laf. 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 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. Par. I praise God for you.

[Exeunt.

tess's Palace. Flourish. Enter King, Countess, Lafeu, Lords, Gentlemen, guards, &c. King. We lost a jewel of her; and our esteem2 Was made much poorer by it: but your son, As mad in folly, lack'd the sense to know Her estimation home.3

Hel. And you shall find yourself to be well SCENE III-The same. A Room in the Counthank'd, Whate'er falls more. We must to horse again;Go, go, provide. [Exeunt. SCENE II.-Rousillon. The inner court of the Countess's Palace. Enter Clown and Parolles. Par. Good monsieur Lavatch, give my lord Lafeu 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 moat, and smell somewhat strong of her strong displeasure.

Clo. Truly, fortune's displeasure is but sluttish, if it smell so strong as thou speakest of: I will henceforth eat no fish of fortune's buttering. Pr'ythee, allow the wind.

Par. Ney, you need not stop your nose, sir; I spake but by a metaphor.

Count.

'Tis past, my liege: And I beseech your majesty to make it Natural rebellion, done i'the blaze 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,
And watch'd the time to shoot.
This I must say,-

Laf.
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

Clo. Indeed, sir, if your metaphor stink, I will stop my nose; or against any man's metaphor.-The greatest wrong of all: he lost a wife, Pr'ythee, get thee further.

Par. Pray you, sir, deliver me this paper. Clo. Foh, pr'ythee, stand away; A paper from fortune's close-stool to give to a nobleman! Look, here he comes himself.

Enter Lafeu.

Here is a pur of fortune's, sir, or of fortune's cat, (but not a musk-cat,) that has fallen into the unclean 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 smiles of comfort, and leave him to your lordship. [Exit Clown. Par. My lord, I am a man whom fortune hath cruelly scratched.

Laf. And what would you have me to do? 'tis

(1) You need not ask ;-here it is.

(2) Reckoning or estimate.

(3) Completely, in its full extent.

Whose beauty did astonish the survey

Of richest eyes 4 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;
We are reconcil'd, and the first view shall kill
All repetition :5-Let him not ask our pardon;
The nature of his great offence is dead,
And deeper than oblivion do we bury
The incensing relics of it: let him approach,
A stranger, no offender; and inform him,
So 'tis our will he should.
Gent.

I shall, my liege.
[Exit Gentleman.
King. What says he to your daughter? have
you spoke?

and to have nothing, is to have rich eyes and poor hands.'

(5) i. e. The first interview shall put an end to

(4) So in As you like it:-to have seen much all recollection of the past.

Laf. All that he is hath reference to your high-Of what should stead her most?

King. Then shall we have a match. I have Howe'er it pleases you to take it so,
The ring was never hers.

And mak'st conjectural fears to come into me, Which I would fain shut out: If it should prove 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 faults,Her eyes myself, could win me to believe,

I would relieve her: Had you that craft, to reave her paid to him. He stole from Florence, taking no

Grant it me, O king; in you it best lies; otherwise
a seducer flourishes, and a poor maid is undone.
DIANA CAPULET.
Laf. I will buy me a son-in-law in a fair, and
toll him for this, I'll none of him.

King. The heavens have thought well on thee,
Lafeu,

To bring forth this discovery.-Seek these suitors:-
Go, speedily, and bring again the count.

Conferr'd by testament to the sequent issue,
Hath it been ow'd and worn. This is his wife;
That ring's a thousand proofs.
King.

Ber.

Methought, you said,

You saw one here in court could witness it.
Dia. I did, my lord, but loath am to produce
So bad an instrument; his name's Parolles.
Laf. I saw the man to-day, if man he be.
King. Find him, and bring him hither.
What of him?
He's quoted for a most perfidious slave,
With all the spots o' the world tax'd and debosh'd;6
Now, justice on the doers! Whose nature sickens, but to speak a truth:
Am I or that, or this, for what he'll utter,
Enter Bertram, guarded.
That will speak any thing?

[Exeunt Gentleman, and some attendants.
I am afeard, the life of Helen, lady,
Was foully snatch'd.
Count.

Yet

King. I wonder, sir, since wives are monsters to

you,

And that you fly them as you swear them lordship,
you desire to marry.-What woman's that?
Re-enter Gentleman, with Widow and Diana.
Dia. I am, my lord, a wretched Florentine,
Derived from the ancient Capulet;
My suit, as I do understand, you know,
And therefore know how far I may be pitied.
Wid. I am her mother, sir, whose age and honour
Both suffer under this complaint we bring,
And both shall cease,2 without your remedy.
King. Come hither, count Do you know these
women?

Ber. My lord, I neither can, nor will deny
But that I know them: Do they charge me further?
Dia. Why do you look so strange upon your wife?
'Ber. She's none of mine, my lord.
Dia.
If you shall marry,
You give away this hand, and that is mine;
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.

Laf. Your reputation [To Bertram.] comes too short for my daughter, you are no husband for her. Ber. My lord, this is a fond and desperate creature,

Whom sometime I have laugh'd with: let your

highness

Lay a more noble thought upon mine honour,
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!
Dia.

Good my lord,
Ask him upon his oath, if he does think

He had not my virginity.

King. What say'st thou to her?
Ber.

She's impudent, my lord;
And was a common gamester to the camp. 3
Dia. He does me wrong, my lord; if I were so,
He might have bought me at a common price:
Do not believe him: O, behold this ring,
Whose high respect, and rich validity,4
Did lack a parallel; yet, for all that,
He gave it to a commoner o' the camp,
If I be one.

Count.

He blushes, and 'tis it:

Of six preceding ancestors, that gem

(1) Pay toll for him. (2) Decease, die.
(3) Gamester, when applied to a female, then

meant a common woman.

King.

She hath that ring of yours.

Ber. I think, she has certain it is, I lik'd her,
And boarded her i' the 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,
Her insuit coming with her modern grace
Subdued me to her rate: she got the ring,
And I had that, which any inferior might
At market-price have bought.
I must be patient;

Dia.

You, that turn'd off a first so noble wife,
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.

Ber.

I have it not.
King. What ring was yours, I pray you?
Sir, much like

Dia.

The same upon your finger.

King. Know you this ring? this ring was his of

late.

King. Tell me, sirrah, but tell me true, I charge
you,

Not fearing the displeasure of your master
(Which, on your just proceeding, I'll keep off,)
By him, and by this woman here, what know you?

Par. So please your majesty, my master hath been an honourable gentleman; tricks he hath had in him, which gentlemen have.

King. Come, come, to the purpose: Did he love this woman?

Par. 'Faith, sir, he did love her; But how?
King, How, I pray you?

Par. He did love her, sir, as a gentleman loves

a woman.

King. How is that?

Par. He loved her, sir, and loved her not.

King. As thou art a knave, and no knave :

What an equivocal companion is this?

Par. I am a poor man, and at your majesty's command.

(7) Love's.

(8) Her solicitation concurring with her appearance of being common.

(4) Value. (5) Noted.

(6) Debauch'd.

(9) May justly make me fast.

(10) Fellow.

orator.

Dia. Do you know, he promised me marriage? Par. 'Faith, I know more than I'll speak. King. But wilt thou not speak all thou know'st? Par. 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 talked of Satan, and of 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 that would derive me ill will to speak of, therefore I will not speak what I know.

Laf. He's a good drum, my lord, but a naughty || Beguiles the truer office of mine eyes?
Is't real, that I see?
Hel.
No, my good lord;
'Tis but the shadow of a wife you see,
The name, and not the thing.
Ber.
Both, both; O, pardon!
Hel. 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,
When from my finger you can get this ring,
And are by me with child, &c.-This is done :
Will you be mine, now you are doubly won?
Ber. If she, my liege, can make me know this
clearly,

King. Thou hast spoken all already, unless thou
canst say they are married: But thou art too finel
in thy evidence: therefore stand aside.-
This ring, you say, was yours?
Dia.

Ay, my good lord.
King. Where did you buy it? or who gave it you?
Dia. It was not given me, nor I did not buy it.
King. Who lent it you?
Dia.
It was not lent me neither.
King. Where did you find it then?
Dia.
I found it not.
King. If it were yours by none of all these ways,
How could you give it him?
Dia.
I never gave it him.
Laf. 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.
Dia. It might be yours, or hers, for aught I know.
King. Take her away, I do not like her now;
To prison with her: and away with him.-
Unless thou tell'st me where thou hadst this ring,
Thou diest within this hour.

Dia.

I'll never tell you.

King. Take her away.
Dia.
I'll put in bail, my liege.
King I think thee now some common customer.2
Dia. By Jove, if ever I knew man, 'twas you.
King. Wherefore hast thou accus'd him all this

while?

Dia. Good mother, fetch my bail.-Stay, royal
sir;
[Exit Widow.
The jeweller, that owes the ring, is sent for,
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:
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.

I'll love her dearly, ever, ever dearly.

Hel. If it appear not plain, and prove untrue,
Deadly divorce step between me and you!-
O, my dear mother, do I see you living?

Laf. Mine eyes smell onions, I shall weep anon: -Good Tom Drum, [To Parolles.] lend me a handkerchief: So, I thank thee; wait on me home, I'll make sport with thee: Let thy courtesies alone, they are scurvy ones.

King. Let us from point to point this story know,
To make the even truth in pleasure flow :-
If thou be'st yet a fresh uncropped flower,

[To Diana.
Choose thou thy husband, and I'll pay thy dower;
For I can guess, that, by the 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:
All yet seems well; and if it end so meet,
The bitter past, more welcome is the sweet.
[Flourish.

Advancing.

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.

This play has many delightful scenes, though not sufficiently probable; and some happy characters, though not new, nor produced by any deep knowledge of human nature. Parolles is a boaster and a coward, such as has always been the sport of the stage, but perhaps never raised more laughter or contempt than in the hands of Shakspeare.

I cannot reconcile my heart to Bertram; a man noble without generosity, and young without truth; who marries Helen as a coward, and leaves her as a profligate when she is dead by his unkindness, sneaks home to a second marriage, is accused by a woman whom he has wronged, defends himself by falsehood, and is dismissed to happiness.

The story of Bertram and Diana had been told before of Mariana and Angelo, and, to confess the truth, scarcely merited to be heard a second time. JOHNSON.

(5) i. e. Hear us without interruption, and take our parts, that is, support and defend us.