Alls Wel that ends Well

LAFEU. A good traveller is something at the latter end of a dinner;

but one that lies three-thirds and uses a known truth to pass a

thousand nothings with, should be once heard and thrice beaten.

God save you, Captain.

BERTRAM. Is there any unkindness between my lord and you, monsieur?

PAROLLES. I know not how I have deserved to run into my lord's

displeasure.

LAFEU. You have made shift to run into 't, boots and spurs and all,

like him that leapt into the custard; and out of it you'll run

again, rather than suffer question for your residence. 

BERTRAM. It may be you have mistaken him, my lord.

LAFEU. And shall do so ever, though I took him at's prayers.

Fare you well, my lord; and believe this of me: there can be no

kernal in this light nut; the soul of this man is his clothes;

trust him not in matter of heavy consequence; I have kept of them

tame, and know their natures. Farewell, monsieur; I have spoken

better of you than you have or will to deserve at my hand; but we

must do good against evil. Exit

PAROLLES. An idle lord, I swear.

BERTRAM. I think so.

PAROLLES. Why, do you not know him?

BERTRAM. Yes, I do know him well; and common speech

Gives him a worthy pass. Here comes my clog.

Enter HELENA

HELENA. I have, sir, as I was commanded from you,

Spoke with the King, and have procur'd his leave

For present parting; only he desires

Some private speech with you. 

BERTRAM. I shall obey his will.

You must not marvel, Helen, at my course,

Which holds not colour with the time, nor does

The ministration and required office

On my particular. Prepar'd I was not

For such a business; therefore am I found

So much unsettled. This drives me to entreat you

That presently you take your way for home,

And rather muse than ask why I entreat you;

For my respects are better than they seem,

And my appointments have in them a need

Greater than shows itself at the first view

To you that know them not. This to my mother.

[Giving a letter]

'Twill be two days ere I shall see you; so

I leave you to your wisdom.

HELENA. Sir, I can nothing say

But that I am your most obedient servant.

BERTRAM. Come, come, no more of that.

HELENA. And ever shall 

With true observance seek to eke out that

Wherein toward me my homely stars have fail'd

To equal my great fortune.

BERTRAM. Let that go.

My haste is very great. Farewell; hie home.

HELENA. Pray, sir, your pardon.

BERTRAM. Well, what would you say?

HELENA. I am not worthy of the wealth I owe,

Nor dare I say 'tis mine, and yet it is;

But, like a timorous thief, most fain would steal

What law does vouch mine own.

BERTRAM. What would you have?

HELENA. Something; and scarce so much; nothing, indeed.

I would not tell you what I would, my lord.

Faith, yes:

Strangers and foes do sunder and not kiss.

BERTRAM. I pray you, stay not, but in haste to horse.

HELENA. I shall not break your bidding, good my lord.

BERTRAM. Where are my other men, monsieur?

Farewell! Exit HELENA 

Go thou toward home, where I will never come

Whilst I can shake my sword or hear the drum.

Away, and for our flight.

PAROLLES. Bravely, coragio! Exeunt

ACT III.

SCENE 1.

Florence. The DUKE's palace

Flourish. Enter the DUKE OF FLORENCE, attended; two

FRENCH LORDS, with a TROOP OF SOLDIERS

DUKE. So that, from point to point, now have you hear

The fundamental reasons of this war;

Whose great decision hath much blood let forth

And more thirsts after.

FIRST LORD. Holy seems the quarrel

Upon your Grace's part; black and fearful

On the opposer.

DUKE. Therefore we marvel much our cousin France

Would in so just a business shut his bosom

Against our borrowing prayers.

SECOND LORD. Good my lord,

The reasons of our state I cannot yield,

But like a common and an outward man

That the great figure of a council frames

By self-unable motion; therefore dare not

Say what I think of it, since I have found 

Myself in my incertain grounds to fail

As often as I guess'd.

DUKE. Be it his pleasure.

FIRST LORD. But I am sure the younger of our nature,

That surfeit on their ease, will day by day

Come here for physic.

DUKE. Welcome shall they be

And all the honours that can fly from us

Shall on them settle. You know your places well;

When better fall, for your avails they fell.

To-morrow to th' field. Flourish. Exeunt

SCENE 2.

Rousillon. The COUNT'S palace

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?

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 means to come.

[Opening a letter]

CLOWN. I have no mind to Isbel since I was at court. Our old ling

and our Isbels o' th' country are nothing like your old ling and

your Isbels o' th' court. The brains of my Cupid's knock'd out;

and I begin to love, as an old man loves money, with no stomach.

COUNTESS. What have we here?