Alls well that ends well

ACT V

SCENE I. Marseilles. A street.

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

As nothing can unroot you. In happy time,

Enter a Gentleman

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.

Gentleman

I have been sometimes there.

HELENA

I do presume, sir, that you are not fallen

From the report that goes upon your goodness,

An therefore, goaded with most sharp occasions,

Which lay nice manners by, I put you to

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

To come into his presence.

Gentleman

The king's not here.

HELENA

Not here, sir!

Gentleman

Not, indeed:

He hence removed 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,

Though time seem so adverse and means unfit.

I do beseech you, whither is he gone?

Gentleman

Marry, as I take it, to Rousillon,

Whither I am going.

HELENA

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.

Gentleman

This I'll do for you.

HELENA

And you shall find yourself to be well thank'd,

Whate'er falls more. We must to horse again.

Go, go, provide.

Exeunt

SCENE II. Rousillon. Before the COUNT's palace.

Enter Clown, and PAROLLES, following

PAROLLES

Good Monsieur Lavache, 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

mood, and smell somewhat strong of her strong

displeasure.

Clown

Truly, fortune's displeasure is but sluttish, if it

smell so strongly as thou speakest of: I will

henceforth eat no fish of fortune's buttering.

Prithee, allow the wind.

PAROLLES

Nay, you need not to stop your nose, sir, I 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.

Clown

Foh! prithee, stand away: a paper from fortune's

close-stool to give to a nobleman! Look, here he

comes himself.

Enter LAFEU

Here is a purr 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 similes of comfort and leave him to

your lordship.

Exit

PAROLLES

My lord, I am a man whom fortune hath cruelly

scratched.

LAFEU

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, 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 business.

PAROLLES

I beseech your honour to hear me one single word.

LAFEU

You beg a single penny more: come, you shall ha't,

save your word.

PAROLLES

My name, my good lord, is Parolles.

LAFEU

You beg more than 'word,' then. Cox my passion!

give me your hand. How does your drum?

PAROLLES

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

LAFEU

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

PAROLLES

It lies in you, my lord, to bring me in some grace,

for you did bring me out.

LAFEU

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.

PAROLLES

I praise God for you.

Exeunt

SCENE III. Rousillon. The COUNT's palace.

Flourish. Enter KING, COUNTESS, LAFEU, 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

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.

LAFEU

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

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,

We are reconciled, 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

The incensing relics of it: let him approach,

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?

LAFEU

All that he is hath reference to your highness.

KING

Then shall we have a match. I have letters sent me

That set him high in fame.

Enter BERTRAM

LAFEU

He looks well on't.

KING

I am not a day of season,

For thou mayst see a sunshine and a hail

In me at once: but to the brightest beams

Distracted clouds give way, so stand thou forth,

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

The 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

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 stolen,

Extended or contracted all proportions

To a most hideous object: thence it came

That she whom all men praised and whom myself,

Since I have lost, have loved, was in mine eye

The dust that did offend it.

KING

Well excused:

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

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,

While shame full late 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.

COUNTESS

Which better than the first, O dear heaven, bless!

Or, ere they meet, in me, O nature, cesse!

LAFEU

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,

That she may quickly come.

BERTRAM gives a ring

By my old beard,

And every 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 at court,

I saw upon her finger.

BERTRAM

Hers it was not.

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

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

At her life's rate.

LAFEU

I am sure I saw her wear it.

BERTRAM

You are deceived, 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

I stood engaged: but when I had subscribed

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 ceased

In heavy satisfaction and would never

Receive the ring again.

KING

Plutus himself,

That knows the tinct and multiplying medicine,

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

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,

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 makest 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

Her eyes myself, could win me to believe,

More than to see this ring. Take him away.

Guards seize BERTRAM

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

Prove that I husbanded her bed in Florence,

Where yet she never was.

Exit, guarded

KING

I am wrapp'd in dismal thinkings.

Enter a Gentleman

Gentleman

Gracious sovereign,

Whether I have been to blame or no, I know not:

Here's a petition from a Florentine,

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

With an importing visage, and she told me,

In a sweet verbal brief, it did concern

Your highness with herself.

KING

[Reads] Upon his many protestations to marry me

when his wife was dead, I blush to say it, he won

me. Now is the Count Rousillon 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 undone.

DIANA CAPILET.

LAFEU

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 Lafeu,

To bring forth this discovery. Seek these suitors:

Go speedily and bring again the count.

I am afeard the life of Helen, lady,

Was foully snatch'd.

COUNTESS

Now, justice on the doers!

Re-enter BERTRAM, guarded

KING

I wonder, sir, sith wives are monsters to you,

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,

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?

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,

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.

LAFEU

Your reputation comes too short for my daughter, you

are no husband for her.

BERTRAM

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.

DIANA

Good my lord,

Ask him upon his oath, if he does think

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:

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 o' the camp,

If I be one.

COUNTESS

He blushes, and 'tis it:

Of six preceding ancestors, that gem,

Conferr'd by testament to the 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.

DIANA

I did, my lord, but loath am to produce

So bad an instrument: his name's Parolles.

LAFEU

I saw the man to-day, 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,

With all the spots o' the 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 any thing?

KING

She hath that ring of yours.

BERTRAM

I think she has: certain it is I liked 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 infinite cunning, 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.

DIANA

I must be patient:

You, that have 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.

BERTRAM

I have it not.

KING

What ring was yours, I pray you?

DIANA

Sir, much like

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.

Enter PAROLLES

BERTRAM

My lord, I do confess the ring was hers.

KING

You boggle shrewdly, every feather stars 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,

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.

KING

Come, come, to the 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 woman.

KING

How is that?

PAROLLES

He loved her, sir, and loved her not.

KING

As thou art a knave, and no knave. What an

equivocal companion is this!

PAROLLES

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

LAFEU

He's a good drum, my lord, but a naughty orator.

DIANA

Do you know he promised me marriage?

PAROLLES

Faith, I know more than I'll speak.

KING

But wilt thou not speak all thou knowest?

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 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 which would

derive me ill will to speak of, therefore I will not

speak what I know.

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?

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.

LAFEU

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 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.

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.

DIANA

By Jove, if ever I knew man, 'twas you.

KING

Wherefore hast thou accused 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.

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,

And he shall surety me. But for this lord,

Who hath abused me, as he knows himself,

Though yet he never harm'd me, here I quit him:

He knows himself my bed he hath defiled,

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.

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,

'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:

'When from my finger you can get this ring

And are by me with child,' and c. 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.

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?

LAFEU

Mine eyes smell onions, I shall weep anon:

To PAROLLES

Good Tom Drum, lend me a handkercher: 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.

To DIANA

If thou be'st yet a fresh uncropped flower,

Choose thou thy husband, and I'll pay thy dower,

For I can guess that by thy honest aid

Thou keep'st a wife herself, thyself a maid.

Of that and all the progress, more or 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

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,

Your gentle hands lend us, and take our hearts.

Exeunt