All's Well That Ends Well: ACT I , SCENE III. Rousillon. The COUNT's palace.

All's Well That Ends Well: ACT I


	Introduction

	ACT I

		SCENE I. Rousillon. The COUNT's palace.

		SCENE II. Paris. The KING's palace.

		SCENE III. Rousillon. The COUNT's palace.

	ACT II

	ACT III

	ACT IV

	ACT V

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SCENE III. Rousillon. The COUNT's palace.

Enter COUNTESS, Steward, and Clown

COUNTESS

I will now hear; what say you of this gentlewoman?

Steward

      Madam, the care I have had to even your content, I
      wish might be found in the calendar of my past
      endeavours; for then we wound our modesty and make
5     foul the clearness of our deservings, when of
      ourselves we publish them.

COUNTESS

      What does this knave here? Get you gone, sirrah:
      the complaints I have heard of you I do not all
      believe: 'tis my slowness that I do not; for I know
10    you lack not folly to commit them, and have ability
      enough to make such knaveries yours.

Clown

'Tis not unknown to you, madam, I am a poor fellow.

COUNTESS

Well, sir.

Clown

      No, madam, 'tis not so well that I am poor, though
15    many of the rich are damned: but, if I may have
      your ladyship's good will to go to the world, Isbel
      the woman and I will do as we may.

COUNTESS

Wilt thou needs be a beggar?

Clown

I do beg your good will in this case.

COUNTESS

20 In what case?

Clown

      In Isbel's case and mine own. Service is no
      heritage: and I think I shall never have the
      blessing of God till I have issue o' my body; for
      they say barnes are blessings.

COUNTESS

25 Tell me thy reason why thou wilt marry.

Clown

My poor body, madam, requires it: I am driven on
by the flesh; and he must needs go that the devil drives.

COUNTESS

Is this all your worship's reason?

Clown

Faith, madam, I have other holy reasons such as they
30 are.

COUNTESS

May the world know them?

Clown

      I have been, madam, a wicked creature, as you and
      all flesh and blood are; and, indeed, I do marry
      that I may repent.

COUNTESS

35 Thy marriage, sooner than thy wickedness.

Clown

I am out o' friends, madam; and I hope to have
friends for my wife's sake.

COUNTESS

Such friends are thine enemies, knave.

Clown

      You're shallow, madam, in great friends; for the
40    knaves come to do that for me which I am aweary of.
      He that ears my land spares my team and gives me
      leave to in the crop; if I be his cuckold, he's my
      drudge: he that comforts my wife is the cherisher
      of my flesh and blood; he that cherishes my flesh
45    and blood loves my flesh and blood; he that loves my
      flesh and blood is my friend: ergo, he that kisses
      my wife is my friend. If men could be contented to
      be what they are, there were no fear in marriage;
      for young Charbon the Puritan and old Poysam the
50    Papist, howsome'er their hearts are severed in
      religion, their heads are both one; they may jowl
      horns together, like any deer i' the herd.

COUNTESS

Wilt thou ever be a foul-mouthed and calumnious knave?

Clown

      A prophet I, madam; and I speak the truth the next
55    way:
      For I the ballad will repeat,
      Which men full true shall find;
      Your marriage comes by destiny,
      Your cuckoo sings by kind.

COUNTESS

60 Get you gone, sir; I'll talk with you more anon.

Steward

May it please you, madam, that he bid Helen come to
you: of her I am to speak.

COUNTESS

Sirrah, tell my gentlewoman I would speak with her;
Helen, I mean.

Clown

65    Was this fair face the cause, quoth she,
      Why the Grecians sacked Troy?
      Fond done, done fond,
      Was this King Priam's joy?
      With that she sighed as she stood,
70    With that she sighed as she stood,
      And gave this sentence then;
      Among nine bad if one be good,
      Among nine bad if one be good,
      There's yet one good in ten.

COUNTESS

75 What, one good in ten? you corrupt the song, sirrah.

Clown

      One good woman in ten, madam; which is a purifying
      o' the song: would God would serve the world so all
      the year! we'ld find no fault with the tithe-woman,
      if I were the parson. One in ten, quoth a'! An we
80    might have a good woman born but one every blazing
      star, or at an earthquake, 'twould mend the lottery
      well: a man may draw his heart out, ere a' pluck
      one.

COUNTESS

You'll be gone, sir knave, and do as I command you.

Clown

85    That man should be at woman's command, and yet no
      hurt done! Though honesty be no puritan, yet it
      will do no hurt; it will wear the surplice of
      humility over the black gown of a big heart. I am
      going, forsooth: the business is for Helen to come hither.

Exit

COUNTESS

90 Well, now.

Steward

I know, madam, you love your gentlewoman entirely.

COUNTESS

      Faith, I do: her father bequeathed her to me; and
      she herself, without other advantage, may lawfully
      make title to as much love as she finds: there is
95    more owing her than is paid; and more shall be paid
      her than she'll demand.

Steward

      Madam, I was very late more near her than I think
      she wished me: alone she was, and did communicate
      to herself her own words to her own ears; she
100   thought, I dare vow for her, they touched not any
      stranger sense. Her matter was, she loved your son:
      Fortune, she said, was no goddess, that had put
      such difference betwixt their two estates; Love no
      god, that would not extend his might, only where
105   qualities were level; Dian no queen of virgins, that
      would suffer her poor knight surprised, without
      rescue in the first assault or ransom afterward.
      This she delivered in the most bitter touch of
      sorrow that e'er I heard virgin exclaim in: which I
110   held my duty speedily to acquaint you withal;
      sithence, in the loss that may happen, it concerns
      you something to know it.

COUNTESS

      You have discharged this honestly; keep it to
      yourself: many likelihoods informed me of this
115   before, which hung so tottering in the balance that
      I could neither believe nor misdoubt. Pray you,
      leave me: stall this in your bosom; and I thank you
      for your honest care: I will speak with you further anon.

Exit Steward

Enter HELENA

      Even so it was with me when I was young:
120   If ever we are nature's, these are ours; this thorn
      Doth to our rose of youth rightly belong;
      Our blood to us, this to our blood is born;
      It is the show and seal of nature's truth,
      Where love's strong passion is impress'd in youth:
125   By our remembrances of days foregone,
      Such were our faults, or then we thought them none.
      Her eye is sick on't: I observe her now.

HELENA

What is your pleasure, madam?

COUNTESS

You know, Helen,
130 I am a mother to you.

HELENA

Mine honourable mistress.

COUNTESS

      Nay, a mother:
      Why not a mother? When I said 'a mother,'
      Methought you saw a serpent: what's in 'mother,'
135   That you start at it? I say, I am your mother;
      And put you in the catalogue of those
      That were enwombed mine: 'tis often seen
      Adoption strives with nature and choice breeds
      A native slip to us from foreign seeds:
140   You ne'er oppress'd me with a mother's groan,
      Yet I express to you a mother's care:
      God's mercy, maiden! does it curd thy blood
      To say I am thy mother? What's the matter,
      That this distemper'd messenger of wet,
145   The many-colour'd Iris, rounds thine eye?
      Why? that you are my daughter?

HELENA

That I am not.

COUNTESS

I say, I am your mother.

HELENA

      Pardon, madam;
150   The Count Rousillon cannot be my brother:
      I am from humble, he from honour'd name;
      No note upon my parents, his all noble:
      My master, my dear lord he is; and I
      His servant live, and will his vassal die:
155   He must not be my brother.

COUNTESS

Nor I your mother?

HELENA

      You are my mother, madam; would you were,--
      So that my lord your son were not my brother,--
      Indeed my mother! or were you both our mothers,
160   I care no more for than I do for heaven,
      So I were not his sister. Can't no other,
      But, I your daughter, he must be my brother?

COUNTESS

      Yes, Helen, you might be my daughter-in-law:
      God shield you mean it not! daughter and mother
165   So strive upon your pulse. What, pale again?
      My fear hath catch'd your fondness: now I see
      The mystery of your loneliness, and find
      Your salt tears' head: now to all sense 'tis gross
      You love my son; invention is ashamed,
170   Against the proclamation of thy passion,
      To say thou dost not: therefore tell me true;
      But tell me then, 'tis so; for, look thy cheeks
      Confess it, th' one to th' other; and thine eyes
      See it so grossly shown in thy behaviors
175   That in their kind they speak it: only sin
      And hellish obstinacy tie thy tongue,
      That truth should be suspected. Speak, is't so?
      If it be so, you have wound a goodly clew;
      If it be not, forswear't: howe'er, I charge thee,
180   As heaven shall work in me for thine avail,
      Tell me truly.

HELENA

Good madam, pardon me!

COUNTESS

Do you love my son?

HELENA

Your pardon, noble mistress!

COUNTESS

185 Love you my son?

HELENA

Do not you love him, madam?

COUNTESS

      Go not about; my love hath in't a bond,
      Whereof the world takes note: come, come, disclose
      The state of your affection; for your passions
190   Have to the full appeach'd.

HELENA

      Then, I confess,
      Here on my knee, before high heaven and you,
      That before you, and next unto high heaven,
      I love your son.
195   My friends were poor, but honest; so's my love:
      Be not offended; for it hurts not him
      That he is loved of me: I follow him not
      By any token of presumptuous suit;
      Nor would I have him till I do deserve him;
200   Yet never know how that desert should be.
      I know I love in vain, strive against hope;
      Yet in this captious and intenible sieve
      I still pour in the waters of my love
      And lack not to lose still: thus, Indian-like,
205   Religious in mine error, I adore
      The sun, that looks upon his worshipper,
      But knows of him no more. My dearest madam,
      Let not your hate encounter with my love
      For loving where you do: but if yourself,
210   Whose aged honour cites a virtuous youth,
      Did ever in so true a flame of liking
      Wish chastely and love dearly, that your Dian
      Was both herself and love: O, then, give pity
      To her, whose state is such that cannot choose
215   But lend and give where she is sure to lose;
      That seeks not to find that her search implies,
      But riddle-like lives sweetly where she dies!

COUNTESS

Had you not lately an intent,--speak truly,--
To go to Paris?

HELENA

220 Madam, I had.

COUNTESS

Wherefore? tell true.

HELENA

      I will tell truth; by grace itself I swear.
      You know my father left me some prescriptions
      Of rare and proved effects, such as his reading
225   And manifest experience had collected
      For general sovereignty; and that he will'd me
      In heedfull'st reservation to bestow them,
      As notes whose faculties inclusive were
      More than they were in note: amongst the rest,
230   There is a remedy, approved, set down,
      To cure the desperate languishings whereof
      The king is render'd lost.

COUNTESS

This was your motive
For Paris, was it? speak.

HELENA

235   My lord your son made me to think of this;
      Else Paris and the medicine and the king
      Had from the conversation of my thoughts
      Haply been absent then.

COUNTESS

      But think you, Helen,
240   If you should tender your supposed aid,
      He would receive it? he and his physicians
      Are of a mind; he, that they cannot help him,
      They, that they cannot help: how shall they credit
      A poor unlearned virgin, when the schools,
245   Embowell'd of their doctrine, have left off
      The danger to itself?

HELENA

      There's something in't,
      More than my father's skill, which was the greatest
      Of his profession, that his good receipt
250   Shall for my legacy be sanctified
      By the luckiest stars in heaven: and, would your honour
      But give me leave to try success, I'ld venture
      The well-lost life of mine on his grace's cure
      By such a day and hour.

COUNTESS

255 Dost thou believe't?

HELENA

Ay, madam, knowingly.

COUNTESS

      Why, Helen, thou shalt have my leave and love,
      Means and attendants and my loving greetings
      To those of mine in court: I'll stay at home
260   And pray God's blessing into thy attempt:
      Be gone to-morrow; and be sure of this,
      What I can help thee to thou shalt not miss.

Exeunt

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