PAROLLES LAFEW PAROLLES LAFEW PAROLLES LAFEW And tell her she is thine, to whom I promise A

counterpoise, if not to thy estate, A balance more replete. I take her hand. Good fortune and the favor
of the King Smile upon this contract, whose ceremony Shall seem expedient on the now-born brief And
be performed tonight. The solemn feast Shall more attend upon the coming space, Expecting absent
friends. As thou lov’st her Thy love’s to me religious; else, does err. Do you hear, monsieur? A word with
you. Your pleasure, sir. Your lord and master did well to make his recantation. “Recantation”? My
“lord”? My “master”? Ay. Is it not a language I speak? A most harsh one, and not to be understood
without bloody succeeding. My “master”? Are you companion to the Count Rossillion? To any count, to
all counts, to what is man. To what is count’s man. Count’s master is of another style. You are too old,
sir; let it satisfy you, you are too old. I must tell thee, sirrah, I write man, to which title age cannot bring
thee. What I dare too well do, I dare not do. I did think thee, for two ordinaries, to be a pretty wise
fellow; thou didst make tolerable vent of thy travel; it might pass. Yet the scarves and the bannerets
about thee did manifoldly dissuade me from believing thee a vessel of too great a burden. FTLN 1079
FTLN 1080 FTLN 1081 FTLN 1082 190 FTLN 1083 FTLN 1084 FTLN 1085 FTLN 1086 FTLN 1087 195 FTLN
1088 FTLN 1089 FTLN 1090 FTLN 1091 FTLN 1092 200 FTLN 1093 FTLN 1094 FTLN 1095 FTLN 1096 FTLN
1097 205 FTLN 1098 FTLN 1099 FTLN 1100 FTLN 1101 FTLN 1102 210 FTLN 1103 FTLN 1104 FTLN 1105
FTLN 1106 FTLN 1107 215 FTLN 1108 FTLN 1109 FTLN 1110 FTLN 1111 81 All’s Well That Ends Well ACT
2. SC. 3 PAROLLES LAFEW PAROLLES LAFEW PAROLLES LAFEW PAROLLES LAFEW PAROLLES LAFEW He
exits. PAROLLES I have now found thee. When I lose thee again, I care not. Yet art thou good for nothing
but taking up, and that thou ’rt scarce worth. Hadst thou not the privilege of antiquity upon thee— Do
not plunge thyself too far in anger lest thou hasten thy trial, which if—Lord have mercy on thee for a
hen! So, my good window of lattice, fare thee well; thy casement I need not open, for I look through
thee. Give me thy hand. My lord, you give me most egregious indignity. Ay, with all my heart, and thou
art worthy of it. I have not, my lord, deserved it. Yes, good faith, ev’ry dram of it, and I will not bate thee
a scruple. Well, I shall be wiser. Ev’n as soon as thou canst, for thou hast to pull at a smack o’ th’
contrary. If ever thou be’st bound in thy scarf and beaten, thou shalt find what it is to be proud of thy
bondage. I have a desire to hold my acquaintance with thee, or rather my knowledge, that I may say in
the default “He is a man I know.” My lord, you do me most insupportable vexation. I would it were hell
pains for thy sake, and my poor doing eternal; for doing I am past, as I will by thee in what motion age
will give me leave. Well, thou hast a son shall take this disgrace off me. Scurvy, old, filthy, scurvy lord!
Well, I must be patient; there is no fettering of authority. I’ll beat him, by my life, if I can meet him with
any convenience, an he were double and double a lord. I’ll have no more pity of his age than I would
have of—I’ll beat him, an if I could but meet him again. FTLN 1112 220 FTLN 1113 FTLN 1114 FTLN 1115
FTLN 1116 FTLN 1117 225 FTLN 1118 FTLN 1119 FTLN 1120 FTLN 1121 FTLN 1122 230 FTLN 1123 FTLN
1124 FTLN 1125 FTLN 1126 FTLN 1127 235 FTLN 1128 FTLN 1129 FTLN 1130 FTLN 1131 FTLN 1132 240
FTLN 1133 FTLN 1134 FTLN 1135 FTLN 1136 FTLN 1137 245 FTLN 1138 FTLN 1139 FTLN 1140 FTLN 1141
FTLN 1142 250 FTLN 1143 FTLN 1144 FTLN 1145 FTLN 1146 FTLN 1147 255 83 All’s Well That Ends Well
ACT 2. SC. 3 LAFEW PAROLLES LAFEW PAROLLES LAFEW PAROLLES LAFEW He exits. PAROLLES BERTRAM
PAROLLES BERTRAM Enter Lafew. Sirrah, your lord and master’s married. There’s news for you: you have
a new mistress. I most unfeignedly beseech your Lordship to make some reservation of your wrongs. He
is my good lord; whom I serve above is my master. Who? God? Ay, sir. The devil it is that’s thy master.
Why dost thou garter up thy arms o’ this fashion? Dost make hose of thy sleeves? Do other servants so?
Thou wert best set thy lower part where thy nose stands. By mine honor, if I were but two hours
younger, I’d beat thee. Methink’st thou art a general offense, and every man should beat thee. I think
thou wast created for men to breathe themselves upon thee. This is hard and undeserved measure, my
lord. Go to, sir. You were beaten in Italy for picking a kernel out of a pomegranate. You are a vagabond,
and no true traveler. You are more saucy with lords and honorable personages than the commission of
your birth and virtue gives you heraldry. You are not worth another word; else I’d call you knave. I leave
you. Good, very good! It is so, then. Good, very good. Let it be concealed awhile. Enter Bertram Count
Rossillion. Undone, and forfeited to cares forever! What’s the matter, sweetheart? Although before the
solemn priest I have sworn, I will not bed her. FTLN 1148 FTLN 1149 FTLN 1150 FTLN 1151 FTLN 1152
260 FTLN 1153 FTLN 1154 FTLN 1155 FTLN 1156 FTLN 1157 265 FTLN 1158 FTLN 1159 FTLN 1160 FTLN
1161 FTLN 1162 270 FTLN 1163 FTLN 1164 FTLN 1165 FTLN 1166 FTLN 1167 275 FTLN 1168 FTLN 1169
FTLN 1170 FTLN 1171 FTLN 1172 280 FTLN 1173 FTLN 1174 FTLN 1175 FTLN 1176 FTLN 1177 285 85 All’s
Well That Ends Well ACT 2. SC. 3 PAROLLES BERTRAM PAROLLES BERTRAM PAROLLES BERTRAM
PAROLLES BERTRAM PAROLLES They exit. What, what, sweetheart? O my Parolles, they have married
me! I’ll to the Tuscan wars and never bed her. France is a dog-hole, and it no more merits the tread of a
man’s foot. To th’ wars! There’s letters from my mother. What th’ import is I know not yet. Ay, that
would be known. To th’ wars, my boy, to th’ wars! He wears his honor in a box unseen That hugs his
kicky-wicky here at home, Spending his manly marrow in her arms Which should sustain the bound and
high curvet Of Mars’s fiery steed. To other regions! France is a stable, we that dwell in ’t jades.
Therefore, to th’ war! It shall be so. I’ll send her to my house, Acquaint my mother with my hate to her
And wherefore I am fled, write to the King That which I durst not speak. His present gift Shall furnish me
to those Italian fields Where noble fellows strike. Wars is no strife To the dark house and the detested
wife. Will this capriccio hold in thee? Art sure? Go with me to my chamber, and advise me. I’ll send her
straight away. Tomorrow I’ll to the wars, she to her single sorrow. Why, these balls bound; there’s noise
in it. ’Tis hard. A young man married is a man that’s marred. Therefore away, and leave her bravely. Go.
The King has done you wrong, but hush, ’tis so. FTLN 1178 FTLN 1179 FTLN 1180 FTLN 1181 FTLN 1182
290 FTLN 1183 FTLN 1184 FTLN 1185 FTLN 1186 FTLN 1187 295 FTLN 1188 FTLN 1189 FTLN 1190 FTLN
1191 FTLN 1192 300 FTLN 1193 FTLN 1194 FTLN 1195 FTLN 1196 FTLN 1197 305 FTLN 1198 FTLN 1199
FTLN 1200 FTLN 1201 FTLN 1202 310 FTLN 1203 FTLN 1204 FTLN 1205 FTLN 1206 FTLN 1207 315 FTLN
1208 87 All’s Well That Ends Well ACT 2. SC. 4 HELEN FOOL HELEN FOOL HELEN FOOL PAROLLES HELEN
PAROLLES FOOL PAROLLES FOOL PAROLLES FOOL PAROLLES Enter Helen with a paper, and Fool. My
mother greets me kindly. Is she well? She is not well, but yet she has her health. She’s very merry, but
yet she is not well. But, thanks be given, she’s very well and wants nothing i’ th’ world, but yet she is not
well. If she be very well, what does she ail that she’s not very well? Truly, she’s very well indeed, but for
two things. What two things? One, that she’s not in heaven, whither God send her quickly; the other,
that she’s in Earth, from whence God send her quickly. Enter Parolles. Bless you, my fortunate lady. I
hope, sir, I have your good will to have mine own good fortunes. You had my prayers to lead them on,
and to keep them on have them still.—O my knave, how does my old lady? So that you had her wrinkles
and I her money, I would she did as you say. Why, I say nothing. Marry, you are the wiser man, for many
a man’s tongue shakes out his master’s undoing. To say nothing, to do nothing, to know nothing, and to
have nothing is to be a great part of your title, which is within a very little of nothing. Away. Thou ’rt a
knave. You should have said, sir, “Before a knave, thou ’rt a knave”; that’s “Before me, thou ’rt a knave.”
This had been truth, sir. Go to. Thou art a witty fool. I have found thee. Scene 4 FTLN 1209 FTLN 1210
FTLN 1211 FTLN 1212 FTLN 1213 5 FTLN 1214 FTLN 1215 FTLN 1216 FTLN 1217 FTLN 1218 10 FTLN 1219
FTLN 1220 FTLN 1221 FTLN 1222 FTLN 1223 15 FTLN 1224 FTLN 1225 FTLN 1226 FTLN 1227 FTLN 1228
20 FTLN 1229 FTLN 1230 FTLN 1231 FTLN 1232 FTLN 1233 25 FTLN 1234 FTLN 1235 FTLN 1236 FTLN
1237 FTLN 1238 30 FTLN 1239 FTLN 1240 89 All’s Well That Ends Well ACT 2. SC. 4 FOOL PAROLLES FOOL
PAROLLES HELEN PAROLLES HELEN PAROLLES HELEN PAROLLES Parolles exits. HELEN They exit. Did you
find me in yourself, sir, or were you taught to find me? … The search, sir, was profitable, and much fool
may you find in you, even to the world’s pleasure and the increase of laughter. A good knave, i’ faith,
and well fed. Madam, my lord will go away tonight; A very serious business calls on him. The great
prerogative and rite of love, Which as your due time claims, he does acknowledge But puts it off to a
compelled restraint, Whose want and whose delay is strewed with sweets, Which they distill now in the
curbèd time To make the coming hour o’erflow with joy And pleasure drown the brim. What’s his will
else? That you will take your instant leave o’ th’ King And make this haste as your own good proceeding,
Strengthened with what apology you think May make it probable need. What more commands he?
That, having this obtained, you presently Attend his further pleasure. In everything I wait upon his will. I
shall report it so. , to Fool I pray you, come, sirrah. FTLN 1241 FTLN 1242 FTLN 1243 FTLN 1244 35 FTLN
1245 FTLN 1246 FTLN 1247 FTLN 1248 FTLN 1249 40