searcher/tsrc/cpixsearchertest/conf/act2.txt
changeset 0 671dee74050a
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+++ b/searcher/tsrc/cpixsearchertest/conf/act2.txt	Mon Apr 19 14:40:16 2010 +0300
@@ -0,0 +1,1590 @@
+William Shakespeare
+
+All's Well That Ends Well
+     __________________________________________________________________
+
+ACT II
+
+SCENE I. Paris. The King's palace.
+
+   Flourish of cornets. Enter the King, attended with divers young Lords
+   taking leave for the Florentine war; Bertram, and Parolles
+
+   King
+
+   Farewell, young lords; these warlike principles
+   Do not throw from you: and you, my lords, farewell:
+   Share the advice betwixt you; if both gain, all
+   The gift doth stretch itself as 'tis received,
+   And is enough for both.
+
+   First Lord
+
+   'Tis our hope, sir,
+   After well enter'd soldiers, to return
+   And find your grace in health.
+
+   King
+
+   No, no, it cannot be; and yet my heart
+   Will not confess he owes the malady
+   That doth my life besiege. Farewell, young lords;
+   Whether I live or die, be you the sons
+   Of worthy Frenchmen: let higher Italy,--
+   Those bated that inherit but the fall
+   Of the last monarchy,--see that you come
+   Not to woo honour, but to wed it; when
+   The bravest questant shrinks, find what you seek,
+   That fame may cry you loud: I say, farewell.
+
+   Second Lord
+
+   Health, at your bidding, serve your majesty!
+
+   King
+
+   Those girls of Italy, take heed of them:
+   They say, our French lack language to deny,
+   If they demand: beware of being captives,
+   Before you serve.
+
+   Both
+
+     Our hearts receive your warnings.
+
+   King
+
+   Farewell. Come hither to me.
+
+   Exit, attended
+
+   First Lord
+
+   O, my sweet lord, that you will stay behind us!
+
+   Parolles
+
+   'Tis not his fault, the spark.
+
+   Second Lord
+
+   O, 'tis brave wars!
+
+   Parolles
+
+   Most admirable: I have seen those wars.
+
+   Bertram
+
+   I am commanded here, and kept a coil with
+   `Too young' and 'the next year' and ''tis too early.'
+
+   Parolles
+
+   An thy mind stand to't, boy, steal away bravely.
+
+   Bertram
+
+   I shall stay here the forehorse to a smock,
+   Creaking my shoes on the plain masonry,
+   Till honour be bought up and no sword worn
+   But one to dance with! By heaven, I'll steal away.
+
+   First Lord
+
+   There's honour in the theft.
+
+   Parolles
+
+   Commit it, count.
+
+   Second Lord
+
+   I am your accessary; and so, farewell.
+
+   Bertram
+
+   I grow to you, and our parting is a tortured body.
+
+   First Lord
+
+   Farewell, captain.
+
+   Second Lord
+
+   Sweet Monsieur Parolles!
+
+   Parolles
+
+   Noble heroes, my sword and yours are kin. Good sparks and lustrous, a
+   word, good metals: you shall find in the regiment of the Spinii one
+   Captain Spurio, with his cicatrice, an emblem of war, here on his
+   sinister cheek; it was this very sword entrenched it: say to him, I
+   live; and observe his reports for me.
+
+   First Lord
+
+   We shall, noble captain.
+
+   Exeunt Lords
+
+   Parolles
+
+   Mars dote on you for his novices! what will ye do?
+
+   Bertram
+
+   Stay: the king.
+
+   Re-enter King. Bertram and Parolles retire
+
+   Parolles
+
+   [To Bertram] Use a more spacious ceremony to the noble lords; you have
+   restrained yourself within the list of too cold an adieu: be more
+   expressive to them: for they wear themselves in the cap of the time,
+   there do muster true gait, eat, speak, and move under the influence of
+   the most received star; and though the devil lead the measure, such are
+   to be followed: after them, and take a more dilated farewell.
+
+   Bertram
+
+   And I will do so.
+
+   Parolles
+
+   Worthy fellows; and like to prove most sinewy sword-men.
+
+   Exeunt Bertram and Parolles
+
+   Enter Lafeu
+
+   Lafeu
+
+   [Kneeling] Pardon, my lord, for me and for my tidings.
+
+   King
+
+   I'll fee thee to stand up.
+
+   Lafeu
+
+   Then here's a man stands, that has brought his pardon.
+   I would you had kneel'd, my lord, to ask me mercy,
+   And that at my bidding you could so stand up.
+
+   King
+
+   I would I had; so I had broke thy pate,
+   And ask'd thee mercy for't.
+
+   Lafeu
+
+   Good faith, across: but, my good lord 'tis thus;
+   Will you be cured of your infirmity?
+
+   King
+
+   No.
+
+   Lafeu
+
+   O, will you eat no grapes, my royal fox?
+   Yes, but you will my noble grapes, an if
+   My royal fox could reach them: I have seen a medicine
+   That's able to breathe life into a stone,
+   Quicken a rock, and make you dance canary
+   With spritely fire and motion; whose simple touch,
+   Is powerful to araise King Pepin, nay,
+   To give great Charlemain a pen in's hand,
+   And write to her a love-line.
+
+   King
+
+   What `her' is this?
+
+   Lafeu
+
+   Why, Doctor She: my lord, there's one arrived,
+   If you will see her: now, by my faith and honour,
+   If seriously I may convey my thoughts
+   In this my light deliverance, I have spoke
+   With one that, in her sex, her years, profession,
+   Wisdom and constancy, hath amazed me more
+   Than I dare blame my weakness: will you see her
+   For that is her demand, and know her business?
+   That done, laugh well at me.
+
+   King
+
+   Now, good Lafeu,
+   Bring in the admiration; that we with thee
+   May spend our wonder too, or take off thine
+   By wondering how thou took'st it.
+
+   Lafeu
+
+   Nay, I'll fit you,
+   And not be all day neither.
+
+   Exit
+
+   King
+
+   Thus he his special nothing ever prologues.
+
+   Re-enter Lafeu, with Helena
+
+   Lafeu
+
+   Nay, come your ways.
+
+   King
+
+   This haste hath wings indeed.
+
+   Lafeu
+
+   Nay, come your ways:
+   This is his majesty; say your mind to him:
+   A traitor you do look like; but such traitors
+   His majesty seldom fears: I am Cressid's uncle,
+   That dare leave two together; fare you well.
+
+   Exit
+
+   King
+
+   Now, fair one, does your business follow us?
+
+   Helena
+
+   Ay, my good lord.
+   Gerard de Narbon was my father;
+   In what he did profess, well found.
+
+   King
+
+   I knew him.
+
+   Helena
+
+   The rather will I spare my praises towards him:
+   Knowing him is enough. On's bed of death
+   Many receipts he gave me: chiefly one.
+   Which, as the dearest issue of his practise,
+   And of his old experience the oily darling,
+   He bade me store up, as a triple eye,
+   Safer than mine own two, more dear; I have so;
+   And hearing your high majesty is touch'd
+   With that malignant cause wherein the honour
+   Of my dear father's gift stands chief in power,
+   I come to tender it and my appliance
+   With all bound humbleness.
+
+   King
+
+   We thank you, maiden;
+   But may not be so credulous of cure,
+   When our most learned doctors leave us and
+   The congregated college have concluded
+   That labouring art can never ransom nature
+   From her inaidible estate; I say we must not
+   So stain our judgment, or corrupt our hope,
+   To prostitute our past-cure malady
+   To empirics, or to dissever so
+   Our great self and our credit, to esteem
+   A senseless help when help past sense we deem.
+
+   Helena
+
+   My duty then shall pay me for my pains:
+   I will no more enforce mine office on you.
+   Humbly entreating from your royal thoughts
+   A modest one, to bear me back a again.
+
+   King
+
+   I cannot give thee less, to be call'd grateful:
+   Thou thought'st to help me; and such thanks I give
+   As one near death to those that wish him live:
+   But what at full I know, thou know'st no part,
+   I knowing all my peril, thou no art.
+
+   Helena
+
+   What I can do can do no hurt to try,
+   Since you set up your rest 'gainst remedy.
+   He that of greatest works is finisher
+   Oft does them by the weakest minister:
+   So holy writ in babes hath judgment shown,
+   When judges have been babes; great floods have flown
+   From simple sources, and great seas have dried
+   When miracles have by the greatest been denied.
+   Oft expectation fails and most oft there
+   Where most it promises, and oft it hits
+   Where hope is coldest and despair most fits.
+
+   King
+
+   I must not hear thee; fare thee well, kind maid;
+   Thy pains not used must by thyself be paid:
+   Proffers not took reap thanks for their reward.
+
+   Helena
+
+   Inspired merit so by breath is barr'd:
+   It is not so with Him that all things knows
+   As 'tis with us that square our guess by shows;
+   But most it is presumption in us when
+   The help of heaven we count the act of men.
+   Dear sir, to my endeavours give consent;
+   Of heaven, not me, make an experiment.
+   I am not an impostor that proclaim
+   Myself against the level of mine aim;
+   But know I think and think I know most sure
+   My art is not past power nor you past cure.
+
+   King
+
+   Are thou so confident? within what space
+   Hopest thou my cure?
+
+   Helena
+
+   The great'st grace lending grace
+   Ere twice the horses of the sun shall bring
+   Their fiery torcher his diurnal ring,
+   Ere twice in murk and occidental damp
+   Moist Hesperus hath quench'd his sleepy lamp,
+   Or four and twenty times the pilot's glass
+   Hath told the thievish minutes how they pass,
+   What is infirm from your sound parts shall fly,
+   Health shall live free and sickness freely die.
+
+   King
+
+   Upon thy certainty and confidence
+   What darest thou venture?
+
+   Helena
+
+   Tax of impudence,
+   A strumpet's boldness, a divulged shame
+   Traduced by odious ballads: my maiden's name
+   Sear'd otherwise; nay, worse--if worse--extended
+   With vilest torture let my life be ended.
+
+   King
+
+   Methinks in thee some blessed spirit doth speak
+   His powerful sound within an organ weak:
+   And what impossibility would slay
+   In common sense, sense saves another way.
+   Thy life is dear; for all that life can rate
+   Worth name of life in thee hath estimate,
+   Youth, beauty, wisdom, courage, all
+   That happiness and prime can happy call:
+   Thou this to hazard needs must intimate
+   Skill infinite or monstrous desperate.
+   Sweet practiser, thy physic I will try,
+   That ministers thine own death if I die.
+
+   Helena
+
+   If I break time, or flinch in property
+   Of what I spoke, unpitied let me die,
+   And well deserved: not helping, death's my fee;
+   But, if I help, what do you promise me?
+
+   King
+
+   Make thy demand.
+
+   Helena
+
+     But will you make it even?
+
+   King
+
+   Ay, by my sceptre and my hopes of heaven.
+
+   Helena
+
+   Then shalt thou give me with thy kingly hand
+   What husband in thy power I will command:
+   Exempted be from me the arrogance
+   To choose from forth the royal blood of France,
+   My low and humble name to propagate
+   With any branch or image of thy state;
+   But such a one, thy vassal, whom I know
+   Is free for me to ask, thee to bestow.
+
+   King
+
+   Here is my hand; the premises observed,
+   Thy will by my performance shall be served:
+   So make the choice of thy own time, for I,
+   Thy resolved patient, on thee still rely.
+   More should I question thee, and more I must,
+   Though more to know could not be more to trust,
+   From whence thou camest, how tended on: but rest
+   Unquestion'd welcome and undoubted blest.
+   Give me some help here, ho! If thou proceed
+   As high as word, my deed shall match thy meed.
+
+   Flourish. Exeunt
+
+SCENE II. Rousillon. The Count's palace.
+
+   Enter Countess and Clown
+
+   Countess
+
+   Come on, sir; I shall now put you to the height of your breeding.
+
+   Clown
+
+   I will show myself highly fed and lowly taught: I know my business is
+   but to the court.
+
+   Countess
+
+   To the court! why, what place make you special, when you put off that
+   with such contempt? But to the court!
+
+   Clown
+
+   Truly, madam, if God have lent a man any manners, he may easily put it
+   off at court: he that cannot make a leg, put off's cap, kiss his hand
+   and say nothing, has neither leg, hands, lip, nor cap; and indeed such
+   a fellow, to say precisely, were not for the court; but for me, I have
+   an answer will serve all men.
+
+   Countess
+
+   Marry, that's a bountiful answer that fits all questions.
+
+   Clown
+
+   It is like a barber's chair that fits all buttocks, the pin-buttock,
+   the quatch-buttock, the brawn buttock, or any buttock.
+
+   Countess
+
+   Will your answer serve fit to all questions?
+
+   Clown
+
+   As fit as ten groats is for the hand of an attorney, as your French
+   crown for your taffeta punk, as Tib's rush for Tom's forefinger, as a
+   pancake for Shrove Tuesday, a morris for May-day, as the nail to his
+   hole, the cuckold to his horn, as a scolding queen to a wrangling
+   knave, as the nun's lip to the friar's mouth, nay, as the pudding to
+   his skin.
+
+   Countess
+
+   Have you, I say, an answer of such fitness for all questions?
+
+   Clown
+
+   From below your duke to beneath your constable, it will fit any
+   question.
+
+   Countess
+
+   It must be an answer of most monstrous size that must fit all demands.
+
+   Clown
+
+   But a trifle neither, in good faith, if the learned should speak truth
+   of it: here it is, and all that belongs to't. Ask me if I am a
+   courtier: it shall do you no harm to learn.
+
+   Countess
+
+   To be young again, if we could: I will be a fool in question, hoping to
+   be the wiser by your answer. I pray you, sir, are you a courtier?
+
+   Clown
+
+   O Lord, sir! There's a simple putting off. More, more, a hundred of
+   them.
+
+   Countess
+
+   Sir, I am a poor friend of yours, that loves you.
+
+   Clown
+
+   O Lord, sir! Thick, thick, spare not me.
+
+   Countess
+
+   I think, sir, you can eat none of this homely meat.
+
+   Clown
+
+   O Lord, sir! Nay, put me to't, I warrant you.
+
+   Countess
+
+   You were lately whipped, sir, as I think.
+
+   Clown
+
+   O Lord, sir! spare not me.
+
+   Countess
+
+   Do you cry, `O Lord, sir!' at your whipping, and `spare not me?' Indeed
+   your `O Lord, sir!' is very sequent to your whipping: you would answer
+   very well to a whipping, if you were but bound to't.
+
+   Clown
+
+   I ne'er had worse luck in my life in my `O Lord, sir!' I see things may
+   serve long, but not serve ever.
+
+   Countess
+
+   I play the noble housewife with the time
+   To entertain't so merrily with a fool.
+
+   Clown
+
+   O Lord, sir! why, there't serves well again.
+
+   Countess
+
+   An end, sir; to your business. Give Helen this,
+   And urge her to a present answer back:
+   Commend me to my kinsmen and my son:
+   This is not much.
+
+   Clown
+
+   Not much commendation to them.
+
+   Countess
+
+   Not much employment for you: you understand me?
+
+   Clown
+
+   Most fruitfully: I am there before my legs.
+
+   Countess
+
+   Haste you again.
+
+   Exeunt severally
+
+SCENE III. Paris. The King's palace.
+
+   Enter Bertram, Lafeu, and Parolles
+
+   Lafeu
+
+   They say miracles are past; and we have our philosophical persons, to
+   make modern and familiar, things supernatural and causeless. Hence is
+   it that we make trifles of terrors, ensconcing ourselves into seeming
+   knowledge, when we should submit ourselves to an unknown fear.
+
+   Parolles
+
+   Why, 'tis the rarest argument of wonder that hath shot out in our
+   latter times.
+
+   Bertram
+
+   And so 'tis.
+
+   Lafeu
+
+   To be relinquish'd of the artists,--
+
+   Parolles
+
+   So I say.
+
+   Lafeu
+
+   Both of Galen and Paracelsus.
+
+   Parolles
+
+   So I say.
+
+   Lafeu
+
+   Of all the learned and authentic fellows,--
+
+   Parolles
+
+   Right; so I say.
+
+   Lafeu
+
+   That gave him out incurable,--
+
+   Parolles
+
+   Why, there 'tis; so say I too.
+
+   Lafeu
+
+   Not to be helped,--
+
+   Parolles
+
+   Right; as 'twere, a man assured of a--
+
+   Lafeu
+
+   Uncertain life, and sure death.
+
+   Parolles
+
+   Just, you say well; so would I have said.
+
+   Lafeu
+
+   I may truly say, it is a novelty to the world.
+
+   Parolles
+
+   It is, indeed: if you will have it in showing, you shall read it
+   in--what do you call there?
+
+   Lafeu
+
+   A showing of a heavenly effect in an earthly actor.
+
+   Parolles
+
+   That's it; I would have said the very same.
+
+   Lafeu
+
+   Why, your dolphin is not lustier: 'fore me, I speak in respect--
+
+   Parolles
+
+   Nay, 'tis strange, 'tis very strange, that is the brief and the tedious
+   of it; and he's of a most facinerious spirit that will not acknowledge
+   it to be the--
+
+   Lafeu
+
+   Very hand of heaven.
+
+   Parolles
+
+   Ay, so I say.
+
+   Lafeu
+
+   In a most weak--
+
+   pausing
+
+   and debile minister, great power, great transcendence: which should,
+   indeed, give us a further use to be made than alone the recovery of the
+   king, as to be--
+
+   pausing
+
+   generally thankful.
+
+   Parolles
+
+   I would have said it; you say well. Here comes the king.
+
+   Enter King, Helena, and Attendants. Lafeu and Parolles retire
+
+   Lafeu
+
+   Lustig, as the Dutchman says: I'll like a maid the better, whilst I
+   have a tooth in my head: why, he's able to lead her a coranto.
+
+   Parolles
+
+   Mort du vinaigre! is not this Helen?
+
+   Lafeu
+
+   'Fore God, I think so.
+
+   King
+
+   Go, call before me all the lords in court.
+   Sit, my preserver, by thy patient's side;
+   And with this healthful hand, whose banish'd sense
+   Thou hast repeal'd, a second time receive
+   The confirmation of my promised gift,
+   Which but attends thy naming.
+
+   Enter three or four Lords
+
+   Fair maid, send forth thine eye: this youthful parcel
+   Of noble bachelors stand at my bestowing,
+   O'er whom both sovereign power and father's voice
+   I have to use: thy frank election make;
+   Thou hast power to choose, and they none to forsake.
+
+   Helena
+
+   To each of you one fair and virtuous mistress
+   Fall, when Love please! marry, to each, but one!
+
+   Lafeu
+
+   I'ld give bay Curtal and his furniture,
+   My mouth no more were broken than these boys',
+   And writ as little beard.
+
+   King
+
+   Peruse them well:
+   Not one of those but had a noble father.
+
+   Helena
+
+   Gentlemen,
+   Heaven hath through me restored the king to health.
+
+   All
+
+   We understand it, and thank heaven for you.
+
+   Helena
+
+   I am a simple maid, and therein wealthiest,
+   That I protest I simply am a maid.
+   Please it your majesty, I have done already:
+   The blushes in my cheeks thus whisper me,
+   `We blush that thou shouldst choose; but, be refused,
+   Let the white death sit on thy cheek for ever;
+   We'll ne'er come there again.'
+
+   King
+
+   Make choice; and, see,
+   Who shuns thy love shuns all his love in me.
+
+   Helena
+
+   Now, Dian, from thy altar do I fly,
+   And to imperial Love, that god most high,
+   Do my sighs stream. Sir, will you hear my suit?
+
+   First Lord
+
+   And grant it.
+
+   Helena
+
+     Thanks, sir; all the rest is mute.
+
+   Lafeu
+
+   I had rather be in this choice than throw ames-ace for my life.
+
+   Helena
+
+   The honour, sir, that flames in your fair eyes,
+   Before I speak, too threateningly replies:
+   Love make your fortunes twenty times above
+   Her that so wishes and her humble love!
+
+   Second Lord
+
+   No better, if you please.
+
+   Helena
+
+   My wish receive,
+   Which great Love grant! and so, I take my leave.
+
+   Lafeu
+
+   Do all they deny her? An they were sons of mine,
+   I'd have them whipped; or I would send them to the
+   Turk, to make eunuchs of.
+
+   Helena
+
+   Be not afraid that I your hand should take;
+   I'll never do you wrong for your own sake:
+   Blessing upon your vows! and in your bed
+   Find fairer fortune, if you ever wed!
+
+   Lafeu
+
+   These boys are boys of ice, they'll none have her: sure, they are
+   bastards to the English; the French ne'er got 'em.
+
+   Helena
+
+   You are too young, too happy, and too good,
+   To make yourself a son out of my blood.
+
+   Fourth Lord
+
+   Fair one, I think not so.
+
+   Lafeu
+
+   There's one grape yet; I am sure thy father drunk wine: but if thou
+   be'st not an ass, I am a youth of fourteen; I have known thee already.
+
+   Helena
+
+   [To Bertram] I dare not say I take you; but I give
+   Me and my service, ever whilst I live,
+   Into your guiding power. This is the man.
+
+   King
+
+   Why, then, young Bertram, take her; she's thy wife.
+
+   Bertram
+
+   My wife, my liege! I shall beseech your highness,
+   In such a business give me leave to use
+   The help of mine own eyes.
+
+   King
+
+   Know'st thou not, Bertram,
+   What she has done for me?
+
+   Bertram
+
+   Yes, my good lord;
+   But never hope to know why I should marry her.
+
+   King
+
+   Thou know'st she has raised me from my sickly bed.
+
+   Bertram
+
+   But follows it, my lord, to bring me down
+   Must answer for your raising? I know her well:
+   She had her breeding at my father's charge.
+   A poor physician's daughter my wife! Disdain
+   Rather corrupt me ever!
+
+   King
+
+   'Tis only title thou disdain'st in her, the which
+   I can build up. Strange is it that our bloods,
+   Of colour, weight, and heat, pour'd all together,
+   Would quite confound distinction, yet stand off
+   In differences so mighty. If she be
+   All that is virtuous, save what thou dislikest,
+   A poor physician's daughter, thou dislikest
+   Of virtue for the name: but do not so:
+   From lowest place when virtuous things proceed,
+   The place is dignified by the doer's deed:
+   Where great additions swell's, and virtue none,
+   It is a dropsied honour. Good alone
+   Is good without a name. Vileness is so:
+   The property by what it is should go,
+   Not by the title. She is young, wise, fair;
+   In these to nature she's immediate heir,
+   And these breed honour: that is honour's scorn,
+   Which challenges itself as honour's born
+   And is not like the sire: honours thrive,
+   When rather from our acts we them derive
+   Than our foregoers: the mere word's a slave
+   Debosh'd on every tomb, on every grave
+   A lying trophy, and as oft is dumb
+   Where dust and damn'd oblivion is the tomb
+   Of honour'd bones indeed. What should be said?
+   If thou canst like this creature as a maid,
+   I can create the rest: virtue and she
+   Is her own dower; honour and wealth from me.
+
+   Bertram
+
+   I cannot love her, nor will strive to do't.
+
+   King
+
+   Thou wrong'st thyself, if thou shouldst strive to choose.
+
+   Helena
+
+   That you are well restored, my lord, I'm glad:
+   Let the rest go.
+
+   King
+
+   My honour's at the stake; which to defeat,
+   I must produce my power. Here, take her hand,
+   Proud scornful boy, unworthy this good gift;
+   That dost in vile misprision shackle up
+   My love and her desert; that canst not dream,
+   We, poising us in her defective scale,
+   Shall weigh thee to the beam; that wilt not know,
+   It is in us to plant thine honour where
+   We please to have it grow. Cheque thy contempt:
+   Obey our will, which travails in thy good:
+   Believe not thy disdain, but presently
+   Do thine own fortunes that obedient right
+   Which both thy duty owes and our power claims;
+   Or I will throw thee from my care for ever
+   Into the staggers and the careless lapse
+   Of youth and ignorance; both my revenge and hate
+   Loosing upon thee, in the name of justice,
+   Without all terms of pity. Speak; thine answer.
+
+   Bertram
+
+   Pardon, my gracious lord; for I submit
+   My fancy to your eyes: when I consider
+   What great creation and what dole of honour
+   Flies where you bid it, I find that she, which late
+   Was in my nobler thoughts most base, is now
+   The praised of the king; who, so ennobled,
+   Is as 'twere born so.
+
+   King
+
+   Take her by the hand,
+   And tell her she is thine: to whom I promise
+   A counterpoise, if not to thy estate
+   A balance more replete.
+
+   Bertram
+
+   I take her hand.
+
+   King
+
+   Good fortune and the favour of the king
+   Smile upon this contract; whose ceremony
+   Shall seem expedient on the now-born brief,
+   And be perform'd to-night: the solemn feast
+   Shall more attend upon the coming space,
+   Expecting absent friends. As thou lovest her,
+   Thy love's to me religious; else, does err.
+
+   Exeunt all but Lafeu and Parolles
+
+   Lafeu
+
+   [Advancing] Do you hear, monsieur? a word with you.
+
+   Parolles
+
+   Your pleasure, sir?
+
+   Lafeu
+
+   Your lord and master did well to make his recantation.
+
+   Parolles
+
+   Recantation! My lord! my master!
+
+   Lafeu
+
+   Ay; is it not a language I speak?
+
+   Parolles
+
+   A most harsh one, and not to be understood without bloody succeeding.
+   My master!
+
+   Lafeu
+
+   Are you companion to the Count Rousillon?
+
+   Parolles
+
+   To any count, to all counts, to what is man.
+
+   Lafeu
+
+   To what is count's man: count's master is of another style.
+
+   Parolles
+
+   You are too old, sir; let it satisfy you, you are too old.
+
+   Lafeu
+
+   I must tell thee, sirrah, I write man; to which title age cannot bring
+   thee.
+
+   Parolles
+
+   What I dare too well do, I dare not do.
+
+   Lafeu
+
+   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 scarfs
+   and the bannerets about thee did manifoldly dissuade me from believing
+   thee a vessel of too great a burthen. 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't scarce worth.
+
+   Parolles
+
+   Hadst thou not the privilege of antiquity upon thee,--
+
+   Lafeu
+
+   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.
+
+   Parolles
+
+   My lord, you give me most egregious indignity.
+
+   Lafeu
+
+   Ay, with all my heart; and thou art worthy of it.
+
+   Parolles
+
+   I have not, my lord, deserved it.
+
+   Lafeu
+
+   Yes, good faith, every dram of it; and I will not bate thee a scruple.
+
+   Parolles
+
+   Well, I shall be wiser.
+
+   Lafeu
+
+   Even as soon as thou canst, for thou hast to pull at a smack o' the
+   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.
+
+   Parolles
+
+   My lord, you do me most insupportable vexation.
+
+   Lafeu
+
+   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.
+
+   Exit
+
+   Parolles
+
+   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 of--I'll beat him, an if I could but meet
+   him again.
+
+   Re-enter Lafeu
+
+   Lafeu
+
+   Sirrah, your lord and master's married; there's news for you: you have
+   a new mistress.
+
+   Parolles
+
+   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.
+
+   Lafeu
+
+   Who? God?
+
+   Parolles
+
+   Ay, sir.
+
+   Lafeu
+
+   The devil it is that's thy master. Why dost thou garter up thy arms o'
+   this fashion? dost make hose of sleeves? do other servants so? Thou
+   wert best set thy lower part where thy nose stands. By mine honour, if
+   I were but two hours younger, I'ld beat thee: methinks, thou art a
+   general offence, and every man should beat thee: I think thou wast
+   created for men to breathe themselves upon thee.
+
+   Parolles
+
+   This is hard and undeserved measure, my lord.
+
+   Lafeu
+
+   Go to, sir; you were beaten in Italy for picking a kernel out of a
+   pomegranate; you are a vagabond and no true traveller: you are more
+   saucy with lords and honourable personages than the commission of your
+   birth and virtue gives you heraldry. You are not worth another word,
+   else I'ld call you knave. I leave you.
+
+   Exit
+
+   Parolles
+
+   Good, very good; it is so then: good, very good; let it be concealed
+   awhile.
+
+   Re-enter Bertram
+
+   Bertram
+
+   Undone, and forfeited to cares for ever!
+
+   Parolles
+
+   What's the matter, sweet-heart?
+
+   Bertram
+
+   Although before the solemn priest I have sworn,
+   I will not bed her.
+
+   Parolles
+
+   What, what, sweet-heart?
+
+   Bertram
+
+   O my Parolles, they have married me!
+   I'll to the Tuscan wars, and never bed her.
+
+   Parolles
+
+   France is a dog-hole, and it no more merits
+   The tread of a man's foot: to the wars!
+
+   Bertram
+
+   There's letters from my mother: what the import is, I know not yet.
+
+   Parolles
+
+   Ay, that would be known. To the wars, my boy, to the wars!
+   He wears his honour 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 the war!
+
+   Bertram
+
+   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: war is no strife
+   To the dark house and the detested wife.
+
+   Parolles
+
+   Will this capriccio hold in thee? art sure?
+
+   Bertram
+
+   Go with me to my chamber, and advise me.
+   I'll send her straight away: to-morrow
+   I'll to the wars, she to her single sorrow.
+
+   Parolles
+
+   Why, these balls bound; there's noise in it. 'Tis hard:
+   A young man married is a man that's marr'd:
+   Therefore away, and leave her bravely; go:
+   The king has done you wrong: but, hush, 'tis so.
+
+   Exeunt
+
+SCENE IV. Paris. The King's palace.
+
+   Enter Helena and Clown
+
+   Helena
+
+   My mother greets me kindly; is she well?
+
+   Clown
+
+   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', the world; but yet she is not well.
+
+   Helena
+
+   If she be very well, what does she ail, that she's not very well?
+
+   Clown
+
+   Truly, she's very well indeed, but for two things.
+
+   Helena
+
+   What two things?
+
+   Clown
+
+   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
+
+   Parolles
+
+   Bless you, my fortunate lady!
+
+   Helena
+
+   I hope, sir, I have your good will to have mine own good fortunes.
+
+   Parolles
+
+   You had my prayers to lead them on; and to keep them on, have them
+   still. O, my knave, how does my old lady?
+
+   Clown
+
+   So that you had her wrinkles and I her money, I would she did as you
+   say.
+
+   Parolles
+
+   Why, I say nothing.
+
+   Clown
+
+   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.
+
+   Parolles
+
+   Away! thou'rt a knave.
+
+   Clown
+
+   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.
+
+   Parolles
+
+   Go to, thou art a witty fool; I have found thee.
+
+   Clown
+
+   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.
+
+   Parolles
+
+   A good knave, i' faith, and well fed.
+   Madam, my lord will go away to-night;
+   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 compell'd restraint;
+   Whose want, and whose delay, is strew'd with sweets,
+   Which they distil now in the curbed time,
+   To make the coming hour o'erflow with joy
+   And pleasure drown the brim.
+
+   Helena
+
+   What's his will else?
+
+   Parolles
+
+   That you will take your instant leave o' the king
+   And make this haste as your own good proceeding,
+   Strengthen'd with what apology you think
+   May make it probable need.
+
+   Helena
+
+   What more commands he?
+
+   Parolles
+
+   That, having this obtain'd, you presently
+   Attend his further pleasure.
+
+   Helena
+
+   In every thing I wait upon his will.
+
+   Parolles
+
+   I shall report it so.
+
+   Helena
+
+   I pray you.
+
+   Exit Parolles
+
+   Come, sirrah.
+
+   Exeunt
+
+SCENE V. Paris. The King's palace.
+
+   Enter Lafeu and Bertram
+
+   Lafeu
+
+   But I hope your lordship thinks not him a soldier.
+
+   Bertram
+
+   Yes, my lord, and of very valiant approof.
+
+   Lafeu
+
+   You have it from his own deliverance.
+
+   Bertram
+
+   And by other warranted testimony.
+
+   Lafeu
+
+   Then my dial goes not true: I took this lark for a bunting.
+
+   Bertram
+
+   I do assure you, my lord, he is very great in knowledge and accordingly
+   valiant.
+
+   Lafeu
+
+   I have then sinned against his experience and transgressed against his
+   valour; and my state that way is dangerous, since I cannot yet find in
+   my heart to repent. Here he comes: I pray you, make us friends; I will
+   pursue the amity.
+
+   Enter Parolles
+
+   Parolles
+
+   [To Bertram] These things shall be done, sir.
+
+   Lafeu
+
+   Pray you, sir, who's his tailor?
+
+   Parolles
+
+   Sir?
+
+   Lafeu
+
+   O, I know him well, I, sir; he, sir, 's a good workman, a very good
+   tailor.
+
+   Bertram
+
+   [Aside to Parolles] Is she gone to the king?
+
+   Parolles
+
+   She is.
+
+   Bertram
+
+   Will she away to-night?
+
+   Parolles
+
+   As you'll have her.
+
+   Bertram
+
+   I have writ my letters, casketed my treasure,
+   Given order for our horses; and to-night,
+   When I should take possession of the bride,
+   End ere I do begin.
+
+   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 leaped 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 kernel 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 procured 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. Prepared I was not
+   For such a business; therefore am I found
+   So much unsettled: this drives me to entreat you
+   That presently you take our 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
+
+   | [1]Table of Contents | [2]Next |
+
+   Last updated on Wed Sep 29 20:06:20 2004 for [3]eBooks@Adelaide.
+
+References
+
+   1. file://localhost/home/arau/shakespeare/allswell/index.html
+   2. file://localhost/home/arau/shakespeare/allswell/act3.html
+   3. http://etext.library.adelaide.edu.au/