Complete Plays, The (320 page)

Helena

Yet, I pray you:
But with the word the time will bring on summer,
When briers shall have leaves as well as thorns,
And be as sweet as sharp. We must away;
Our wagon is prepared, 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.

Exeunt

S
CENE
V. R
OUSILLON
. T
HE
C
OUNT
’
S
PALACE
.

Enter Countess, Lafeu, and Clown

Lafeu

No, no, no, your son was misled with a snipt-taffeta fellow there, whose villanous saffron would have made all the unbaked 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 advanced by the king than by that red-tailed 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 my flesh, and cost me the dearest groans of a mother, I could not have owed her a more rooted love.

Lafeu

’Twas a good lady, ’twas a good lady: we may pick a thousand salads ere we light on such another herb.

Clown

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

Lafeu

They are not herbs, you knave; they are nose-herbs.

Clown

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

Lafeu

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.

Lafeu

Your distinction?

Clown

I would cozen the man of his wife and do his service.

Lafeu

So you were a knave at his service, indeed.

Clown

And I would give his wife my bauble, sir, to do her service.

Lafeu

I will subscribe for thee, thou art both knave and fool.

Clown

At your service.

Lafeu

No, no, no.

Clown

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

Lafeu

Who’s that? a Frenchman?

Clown

Faith, sir, a’ has an English name; but his fisnomy is more hotter in France than there.

Lafeu

What prince is that?

Clown

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

Lafeu

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

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 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.

Lafeu

Go thy ways, I begin to be aweary 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.

Clown

If I put any tricks upon ’em, sir, they shall be jades’ tricks; which are their own right by the law of nature.

Exit

Lafeu

A shrewd knave and an unhappy.

Countess

So he 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, indeed, he has no pace, but runs where he will.

Lafeu

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 daughter; which, in the minority of them both, his majesty, out of a self-gracious remembrance, did first propose: his highness 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?

Countess

With very much content, my lord; and I wish it happily effected.

Lafeu

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

Countess

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

Lafeu

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

Countess

You need but plead your honourable privilege.

Lafeu

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 of velvet: his left cheek is a cheek of two pile and a half, but his right cheek is worn bare.

Lafeu

A scar nobly got, or a noble scar, is a good livery of honour; so belike is that.

Clown

But it is your carbonadoed face.

Lafeu

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

A
CT
V

S
CENE
I. M
ARSEILLES
. 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

S
CENE
II. R
OUSILLON
. B
EFORE
THE
C
OUNT
’
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

S
CENE
III. R
OUSILLON
. T
HE
C
OUNT
’
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