--- /dev/null Thu Jan 01 00:00:00 1970 +0000
+++ b/searcher/tsrc/cpixsearchertest/conf/act4.txt Mon Apr 19 14:40:16 2010 +0300
@@ -0,0 +1,1304 @@
+William Shakespeare
+
+All's Well That Ends Well
+ __________________________________________________________________
+
+ACT IV
+
+SCENE I. Without the Florentine camp.
+
+ Enter Second French Lord, with five or six other Soldiers in ambush
+
+ Second Lord
+
+ He can come no other way but by this hedge-corner. When you sally upon
+ him, speak what terrible language you will: though you understand it
+ not yourselves, no matter; for we must not seem to understand him,
+ unless some one among us whom we must produce for an interpreter.
+
+ First Soldier
+
+ Good captain, let me be the interpreter.
+
+ Second Lord
+
+ Art not acquainted with him? knows he not thy voice?
+
+ First Soldier
+
+ No, sir, I warrant you.
+
+ Second Lord
+
+ But what linsey-woolsey hast thou to speak to us again?
+
+ First Soldier
+
+ E'en such as you speak to me.
+
+ Second Lord
+
+ He must think us some band of strangers i' the adversary's
+ entertainment. Now he hath a smack of all neighbouring languages;
+ therefore we must every one be a man of his own fancy, not to know what
+ we speak one to another; so we seem to know, is to know straight our
+ purpose: choughs' language, gabble enough, and good enough. As for you,
+ interpreter, you must seem very politic. But couch, ho! here he comes,
+ to beguile two hours in a sleep, and then to return and swear the lies
+ he forges.
+
+ Enter Parolles
+
+ Parolles
+
+ Ten o'clock: within these three hours 'twill be time enough to go home.
+ What shall I say I have done? It must be a very plausive invention that
+ carries it: they begin to smoke me; and disgraces have of late knocked
+ too often at my door. I find my tongue is too foolhardy; but my heart
+ hath the fear of Mars before it and of his creatures, not daring the
+ reports of my tongue.
+
+ Second Lord
+
+ This is the first truth that e'er thine own tongue was guilty of.
+
+ Parolles
+
+ What the devil should move me to undertake the recovery of this drum,
+ being not ignorant of the impossibility, and knowing I had no such
+ purpose? I must give myself some hurts, and say I got them in exploit:
+ yet slight ones will not carry it; they will say, `Came you off with so
+ little?' and great ones I dare not give. Wherefore, what's the
+ instance? Tongue, I must put you into a butter-woman's mouth and buy
+ myself another of Bajazet's mule, if you prattle me into these perils.
+
+ Second Lord
+
+ Is it possible he should know what he is, and be that he is?
+
+ Parolles
+
+ I would the cutting of my garments would serve the turn, or the
+ breaking of my Spanish sword.
+
+ Second Lord
+
+ We cannot afford you so.
+
+ Parolles
+
+ Or the baring of my beard; and to say it was in stratagem.
+
+ Second Lord
+
+ 'Twould not do.
+
+ Parolles
+
+ Or to drown my clothes, and say I was stripped.
+
+ Second Lord
+
+ Hardly serve.
+
+ Parolles
+
+ Though I swore I leaped from the window of the citadel.
+
+ Second Lord
+
+ How deep?
+
+ Parolles
+
+ Thirty fathom.
+
+ Second Lord
+
+ Three great oaths would scarce make that be believed.
+
+ Parolles
+
+ I would I had any drum of the enemy's: I would swear I recovered it.
+
+ Second Lord
+
+ You shall hear one anon.
+
+ Parolles
+
+ A drum now of the enemy's,--
+
+ Alarum within
+
+ Second Lord
+
+ Throca movousus, cargo, cargo, cargo.
+
+ All
+
+ Cargo, cargo, cargo, villiando par corbo, cargo.
+
+ Parolles
+
+ O, ransom, ransom! do not hide mine eyes.
+
+ They seize and blindfold him
+
+ First Soldier
+
+ Boskos thromuldo boskos.
+
+ Parolles
+
+ I know you are the Muskos' regiment:
+ And I shall lose my life for want of language;
+ If there be here German, or Dane, low Dutch,
+ Italian, or French, let him speak to me; I'll
+ Discover that which shall undo the Florentine.
+
+ First Soldier
+
+ Boskos vauvado: I understand thee, and can speak thy tongue. Kerely
+ bonto, sir, betake thee to thy faith, for seventeen poniards are at thy
+ bosom.
+
+ Parolles
+
+ O!
+
+ First Soldier
+
+ O, pray, pray, pray! Manka revania dulche.
+
+ Second Lord
+
+ Oscorbidulchos volivorco.
+
+ First Soldier
+
+ The general is content to spare thee yet;
+ And, hoodwink'd as thou art, will lead thee on
+ To gather from thee: haply thou mayst inform
+ Something to save thy life.
+
+ Parolles
+
+ O, let me live!
+ And all the secrets of our camp I'll show,
+ Their force, their purposes; nay, I'll speak that
+ Which you will wonder at.
+
+ First Soldier
+
+ But wilt thou faithfully?
+
+ Parolles
+
+ If I do not, damn me.
+
+ First Soldier
+
+ Acordo linta.
+ Come on; thou art granted space.
+
+ Exit, with Parolles guarded. A short alarum within
+
+ Second Lord
+
+ Go, tell the Count Rousillon, and my brother,
+ We have caught the woodcock, and will keep him muffled
+ Till we do hear from them.
+
+ Second Soldier
+
+ Captain, I will.
+
+ Second Lord
+
+ A' will betray us all unto ourselves:
+ Inform on that.
+
+ Second Soldier
+
+ So I will, sir.
+
+ Second Lord
+
+ Till then I'll keep him dark and safely lock'd.
+
+ Exeunt
+
+SCENE II. Florence. The Widow's house.
+
+ Enter Bertram and Diana
+
+ Bertram
+
+ They told me that your name was Fontibell.
+
+ Diana
+
+ No, my good lord, Diana.
+
+ Bertram
+
+ Titled goddess;
+ And worth it, with addition! But, fair soul,
+ In your fine frame hath love no quality?
+ If quick fire of youth light not your mind,
+ You are no maiden, but a monument:
+ When you are dead, you should be such a one
+ As you are now, for you are cold and stem;
+ And now you should be as your mother was
+ When your sweet self was got.
+
+ Diana
+
+ She then was honest.
+
+ Bertram
+
+ So should you be.
+
+ Diana
+
+ No:
+ My mother did but duty; such, my lord,
+ As you owe to your wife.
+
+ Bertram
+
+ No more o' that;
+ I prithee, do not strive against my vows:
+ I was compell'd to her; but I love thee
+ By love's own sweet constraint, and will for ever
+ Do thee all rights of service.
+
+ Diana
+
+ Ay, so you serve us
+ Till we serve you; but when you have our roses,
+ You barely leave our thorns to prick ourselves
+ And mock us with our bareness.
+
+ Bertram
+
+ How have I sworn!
+
+ Diana
+
+ 'Tis not the many oaths that makes the truth,
+ But the plain single vow that is vow'd true.
+ What is not holy, that we swear not by,
+ But take the High'st to witness: then, pray you, tell me,
+ If I should swear by God's great attributes,
+ I loved you dearly, would you believe my oaths,
+ When I did love you ill? This has no holding,
+ To swear by him whom I protest to love,
+ That I will work against him: therefore your oaths
+ Are words and poor conditions, but unseal'd,
+ At least in my opinion.
+
+ Bertram
+
+ Change it, change it;
+ Be not so holy-cruel: love is holy;
+ And my integrity ne'er knew the crafts
+ That you do charge men with. Stand no more off,
+ But give thyself unto my sick desires,
+ Who then recover: say thou art mine, and ever
+ My love as it begins shall so persever.
+
+ Diana
+
+ I see that men make ropes in such a scarre
+ That we'll forsake ourselves. Give me that ring.
+
+ Bertram
+
+ I'll lend it thee, my dear; but have no power
+ To give it from me.
+
+ Diana
+
+ Will you not, my lord?
+
+ Bertram
+
+ It is an honour 'longing to our house,
+ Bequeathed down from many ancestors;
+ Which were the greatest obloquy i' the world
+ In me to lose.
+
+ Diana
+
+ Mine honour's such a ring:
+ My chastity's the jewel of our house,
+ Bequeathed down from many ancestors;
+ Which were the greatest obloquy i' the world
+ In me to lose: thus your own proper wisdom
+ Brings in the champion Honour on my part,
+ Against your vain assault.
+
+ Bertram
+
+ Here, take my ring:
+ My house, mine honour, yea, my life, be thine,
+ And I'll be bid by thee.
+
+ Diana
+
+ When midnight comes, knock at my chamber-window:
+ I'll order take my mother shall not hear.
+ Now will I charge you in the band of truth,
+ When you have conquer'd my yet maiden bed,
+ Remain there but an hour, nor speak to me:
+ My reasons are most strong; and you shall know them
+ When back again this ring shall be deliver'd:
+ And on your finger in the night I'll put
+ Another ring, that what in time proceeds
+ May token to the future our past deeds.
+ Adieu, till then; then, fail not. You have won
+ A wife of me, though there my hope be done.
+
+ Bertram
+
+ A heaven on earth I have won by wooing thee.
+
+ Exit
+
+ Diana
+
+ For which live long to thank both heaven and me!
+ You may so in the end.
+ My mother told me just how he would woo,
+ As if she sat in 's heart; she says all men
+ Have the like oaths: he had sworn to marry me
+ When his wife's dead; therefore I'll lie with him
+ When I am buried. Since Frenchmen are so braid,
+ Marry that will, I live and die a maid:
+ Only in this disguise I think't no sin
+ To cozen him that would unjustly win.
+
+ Exit
+
+SCENE III. The Florentine camp.
+
+ Enter the two French Lords and some two or three Soldiers
+
+ First Lord
+
+ You have not given him his mother's letter?
+
+ Second Lord
+
+ I have delivered it an hour since: there is something in't that stings
+ his nature; for on the reading it he changed almost into another man.
+
+ First Lord
+
+ He has much worthy blame laid upon him for shaking off so good a wife
+ and so sweet a lady.
+
+ Second Lord
+
+ Especially he hath incurred the everlasting displeasure of the king,
+ who had even tuned his bounty to sing happiness to him. I will tell you
+ a thing, but you shall let it dwell darkly with you.
+
+ First Lord
+
+ When you have spoken it, 'tis dead, and I am the grave of it.
+
+ Second Lord
+
+ He hath perverted a young gentlewoman here in Florence, of a most
+ chaste renown; and this night he fleshes his will in the spoil of her
+ honour: he hath given her his monumental ring, and thinks himself made
+ in the unchaste composition.
+
+ First Lord
+
+ Now, God delay our rebellion! as we are ourselves, what things are we!
+
+ Second Lord
+
+ Merely our own traitors. And as in the common course of all treasons,
+ we still see them reveal themselves, till they attain to their abhorred
+ ends, so he that in this action contrives against his own nobility, in
+ his proper stream o'erflows himself.
+
+ First Lord
+
+ Is it not meant damnable in us, to be trumpeters of our unlawful
+ intents? We shall not then have his company to-night?
+
+ Second Lord
+
+ Not till after midnight; for he is dieted to his hour.
+
+ First Lord
+
+ That approaches apace; I would gladly have him see his company
+ anatomized, that he might take a measure of his own judgments, wherein
+ so curiously he had set this counterfeit.
+
+ Second Lord
+
+ We will not meddle with him till he come; for his presence must be the
+ whip of the other.
+
+ First Lord
+
+ In the mean time, what hear you of these wars?
+
+ Second Lord
+
+ I hear there is an overture of peace.
+
+ First Lord
+
+ Nay, I assure you, a peace concluded.
+
+ Second Lord
+
+ What will Count Rousillon do then? will he travel higher, or return
+ again into France?
+
+ First Lord
+
+ I perceive, by this demand, you are not altogether of his council.
+
+ Second Lord
+
+ Let it be forbid, sir; so should I be a great deal of his act.
+
+ First Lord
+
+ Sir, his wife some two months since fled from his house: her pretence
+ is a pilgrimage to Saint Jaques le Grand; which holy undertaking with
+ most austere sanctimony she accomplished; and, there residing the
+ tenderness of her nature became as a prey to her grief; in fine, made a
+ groan of her last breath, and now she sings in heaven.
+
+ Second Lord
+
+ How is this justified?
+
+ First Lord
+
+ The stronger part of it by her own letters, which makes her story true,
+ even to the point of her death: her death itself, which could not be
+ her office to say is come, was faithfully confirmed by the rector of
+ the place.
+
+ Second Lord
+
+ Hath the count all this intelligence?
+
+ First Lord
+
+ Ay, and the particular confirmations, point from point, so to the full
+ arming of the verity.
+
+ Second Lord
+
+ I am heartily sorry that he'll be glad of this.
+
+ First Lord
+
+ How mightily sometimes we make us comforts of our losses!
+
+ Second Lord
+
+ And how mightily some other times we drown our gain in tears! The great
+ dignity that his valour hath here acquired for him shall at home be
+ encountered with a shame as ample.
+
+ First Lord
+
+ The web of our life is of a mingled yarn, good and ill together: our
+ virtues would be proud, if our faults whipped them not; and our crimes
+ would despair, if they were not cherished by our virtues.
+
+ Enter a Messenger
+
+ How now! where's your master?
+
+ Servant
+
+ He met the duke in the street, sir, of whom he hath taken a solemn
+ leave: his lordship will next morning for France. The duke hath offered
+ him letters of commendations to the king.
+
+ Second Lord
+
+ They shall be no more than needful there, if they were more than they
+ can commend.
+
+ First Lord
+
+ They cannot be too sweet for the king's tartness. Here's his lordship
+ now.
+
+ Enter Bertram
+
+ How now, my lord! is't not after midnight?
+
+ Bertram
+
+ I have to-night dispatched sixteen businesses, a month's length
+ a-piece, by an abstract of success: I have congied with the duke, done
+ my adieu with his nearest; buried a wife, mourned for her; writ to my
+ lady mother I am returning; entertained my convoy; and between these
+ main parcels of dispatch effected many nicer needs; the last was the
+ greatest, but that I have not ended yet.
+
+ Second Lord
+
+ If the business be of any difficulty, and this morning your departure
+ hence, it requires haste of your lordship.
+
+ Bertram
+
+ I mean, the business is not ended, as fearing to hear of it hereafter.
+ But shall we have this dialogue between the fool and the soldier? Come,
+ bring forth this counterfeit module, he has deceived me, like a
+ double-meaning prophesier.
+
+ Second Lord
+
+ Bring him forth: has sat i' the stocks all night, poor gallant knave.
+
+ Bertram
+
+ No matter: his heels have deserved it, in usurping his spurs so long.
+ How does he carry himself?
+
+ Second Lord
+
+ I have told your lordship already, the stocks carry him. But to answer
+ you as you would be understood; he weeps like a wench that had shed her
+ milk: he hath confessed himself to Morgan, whom he supposes to be a
+ friar, from the time of his remembrance to this very instant disaster
+ of his setting i' the stocks: and what think you he hath confessed?
+
+ Bertram
+
+ Nothing of me, has a'?
+
+ Second Lord
+
+ His confession is taken, and it shall be read to his face: if your
+ lordship be in't, as I believe you are, you must have the patience to
+ hear it.
+
+ Enter Parolles guarded, and First Soldier
+
+ Bertram
+
+ A plague upon him! muffled! he can say nothing of me: hush, hush!
+
+ First Lord
+
+ Hoodman comes! Portotartarosa
+
+ First Soldier
+
+ He calls for the tortures: what will you say without 'em?
+
+ Parolles
+
+ I will confess what I know without constraint: if ye pinch me like a
+ pasty, I can say no more.
+
+ First Soldier
+
+ Bosko chimurcho.
+
+ First Lord
+
+ Boblibindo chicurmurco.
+
+ First Soldier
+
+ You are a merciful general. Our general bids you answer to what I shall
+ ask you out of a note.
+
+ Parolles
+
+ And truly, as I hope to live.
+
+ First Soldier
+
+ [Reads] `First demand of him how many horse the duke is strong.' What
+ say you to that?
+
+ Parolles
+
+ Five or six thousand; but very weak and unserviceable: the troops are
+ all scattered, and the commanders very poor rogues, upon my reputation
+ and credit and as I hope to live.
+
+ First Soldier
+
+ Shall I set down your answer so?
+
+ Parolles
+
+ Do: I'll take the sacrament on't, how and which way you will.
+
+ Bertram
+
+ All's one to him. What a past-saving slave is this!
+
+ First Lord
+
+ You're deceived, my lord: this is Monsieur Parolles, the gallant
+ militarist,--that was his own phrase,--that had the whole theoric of
+ war in the knot of his scarf, and the practise in the chape of his
+ dagger.
+
+ Second Lord
+
+ I will never trust a man again for keeping his sword clean. nor believe
+ he can have every thing in him by wearing his apparel neatly.
+
+ First Soldier
+
+ Well, that's set down.
+
+ Parolles
+
+ Five or six thousand horse, I said,-- I will say true,--or thereabouts,
+ set down, for I'll speak truth.
+
+ First Lord
+
+ He's very near the truth in this.
+
+ Bertram
+
+ But I con him no thanks for't, in the nature he delivers it.
+
+ Parolles
+
+ Poor rogues, I pray you, say.
+
+ First Soldier
+
+ Well, that's set down.
+
+ Parolles
+
+ I humbly thank you, sir: a truth's a truth, the rogues are marvellous
+ poor.
+
+ First Soldier
+
+ [Reads] `Demand of him, of what strength they are a-foot.' What say you
+ to that?
+
+ Parolles
+
+ By my troth, sir, if I were to live this present hour, I will tell
+ true. Let me see: Spurio, a hundred and fifty; Sebastian, so many;
+ Corambus, so many; Jaques, so many; Guiltian, Cosmo, Lodowick, and
+ Gratii, two hundred and fifty each; mine own company, Chitopher,
+ Vaumond, Bentii, two hundred and fifty each: so that the muster-file,
+ rotten and sound, upon my life, amounts not to fifteen thousand poll;
+ half of the which dare not shake snow from off their cassocks, lest
+ they shake themselves to pieces.
+
+ Bertram
+
+ What shall be done to him?
+
+ First Lord
+
+ Nothing, but let him have thanks. Demand of him my condition, and what
+ credit I have with the duke.
+
+ First Soldier
+
+ Well, that's set down.
+
+ [Reads] `You shall demand of him, whether one Captain Dumain be i' the
+ camp, a Frenchman; what his reputation is with the duke; what his
+ valour, honesty, and expertness in wars; or whether he thinks it were
+ not possible, with well-weighing sums of gold, to corrupt him to
+ revolt.' What say you to this? what do you know of it?
+
+ Parolles
+
+ I beseech you, let me answer to the particular of the inter'gatories:
+ demand them singly.
+
+ First Soldier
+
+ Do you know this Captain Dumain?
+
+ Parolles
+
+ I know him: a' was a botcher's 'prentice in Paris, from whence he was
+ whipped for getting the shrieve's fool with child,--a dumb innocent,
+ that could not say him nay.
+
+ Bertram
+
+ Nay, by your leave, hold your hands; though I know his brains are
+ forfeit to the next tile that falls.
+
+ First Soldier
+
+ Well, is this captain in the duke of Florence's camp?
+
+ Parolles
+
+ Upon my knowledge, he is, and lousy.
+
+ First Lord
+
+ Nay look not so upon me; we shall hear of your lordship anon.
+
+ First Soldier
+
+ What is his reputation with the duke?
+
+ Parolles
+
+ The duke knows him for no other but a poor officer of mine; and writ to
+ me this other day to turn him out o' the band: I think I have his
+ letter in my pocket.
+
+ First Soldier
+
+ Marry, we'll search.
+
+ Parolles
+
+ In good sadness, I do not know; either it is there, or it is upon a
+ file with the duke's other letters in my tent.
+
+ First Soldier
+
+ Here 'tis; here's a paper: shall I read it to you?
+
+ Parolles
+
+ I do not know if it be it or no.
+
+ Bertram
+
+ Our interpreter does it well.
+
+ First Lord
+
+ Excellently.
+
+ First Soldier
+
+ [Reads] `Dian, the count's a fool, and full of gold,'--
+
+ Parolles
+
+ That is not the duke's letter, sir; that is an advertisement to a
+ proper maid in Florence, one Diana, to take heed of the allurement of
+ one Count Rousillon, a foolish idle boy, but for all that very ruttish:
+ I pray you, sir, put it up again.
+
+ First Soldier
+
+ Nay, I'll read it first, by your favour.
+
+ Parolles
+
+ My meaning in't, I protest, was very honest in the behalf of the maid;
+ for I knew the young count to be a dangerous and lascivious boy, who is
+ a whale to virginity and devours up all the fry it finds.
+
+ Bertram
+
+ Damnable both-sides rogue!
+
+ First Soldier
+
+ [Reads] `When he swears oaths, bid him drop gold, and take it;
+ After he scores, he never pays the score:
+ Half won is match well made; match, and well make it;
+ He ne'er pays after-debts, take it before;
+ And say a soldier, Dian, told thee this,
+ Men are to mell with, boys are not to kiss:
+ For count of this, the count's a fool, I know it,
+ Who pays before, but not when he does owe it.
+ Thine, as he vowed to thee in thine ear,
+ Parolles.'
+
+ Bertram
+
+ He shall be whipped through the army with this rhyme in's forehead.
+
+ Second Lord
+
+ This is your devoted friend, sir, the manifold linguist and the
+ armipotent soldier.
+
+ Bertram
+
+ I could endure any thing before but a cat, and now he's a cat to me.
+
+ First Soldier
+
+ I perceive, sir, by the general's looks, we shall be fain to hang you.
+
+ Parolles
+
+ My life, sir, in any case: not that I am afraid to die; but that, my
+ offences being many, I would repent out the remainder of nature: let me
+ live, sir, in a dungeon, i' the stocks, or any where, so I may live.
+
+ First Soldier
+
+ We'll see what may be done, so you confess freely; therefore, once more
+ to this Captain Dumain: you have answered to his reputation with the
+ duke and to his valour: what is his honesty?
+
+ Parolles
+
+ He will steal, sir, an egg out of a cloister: for rapes and ravishments
+ he parallels Nessus: he professes not keeping of oaths; in breaking 'em
+ he is stronger than Hercules: he will lie, sir, with such volubility,
+ that you would think truth were a fool: drunkenness is his best virtue,
+ for he will be swine-drunk; and in his sleep he does little harm, save
+ to his bed-clothes about him; but they know his conditions and lay him
+ in straw. I have but little more to say, sir, of his honesty: he has
+ every thing that an honest man should not have; what an honest man
+ should have, he has nothing.
+
+ First Lord
+
+ I begin to love him for this.
+
+ Bertram
+
+ For this description of thine honesty? A pox upon him for me, he's more
+ and more a cat.
+
+ First Soldier
+
+ What say you to his expertness in war?
+
+ Parolles
+
+ Faith, sir, he has led the drum before the English tragedians; to belie
+ him, I will not, and more of his soldiership I know not; except, in
+ that country he had the honour to be the officer at a place there
+ called Mile-end, to instruct for the doubling of files: I would do the
+ man what honour I can, but of this I am not certain.
+
+ First Lord
+
+ He hath out-villained villany so far, that the rarity redeems him.
+
+ Bertram
+
+ A pox on him, he's a cat still.
+
+ First Soldier
+
+ His qualities being at this poor price, I need not to ask you if gold
+ will corrupt him to revolt.
+
+ Parolles
+
+ Sir, for a quart d'ecu he will sell the fee-simple of his salvation,
+ the inheritance of it; and cut the entail from all remainders, and a
+ perpetual succession for it perpetually.
+
+ First Soldier
+
+ What's his brother, the other Captain Dumain?
+
+ Second Lord
+
+ Why does be ask him of me?
+
+ First Soldier
+
+ What's he?
+
+ Parolles
+
+ E'en a crow o' the same nest; not altogether so great as the first in
+ goodness, but greater a great deal in evil: he excels his brother for a
+ coward, yet his brother is reputed one of the best that is: in a
+ retreat he outruns any lackey; marry, in coming on he has the cramp.
+
+ First Soldier
+
+ If your life be saved, will you undertake to betray the Florentine?
+
+ Parolles
+
+ Ay, and the captain of his horse, Count Rousillon.
+
+ First Soldier
+
+ I'll whisper with the general, and know his pleasure.
+
+ Parolles
+
+ [Aside] I'll no more drumming; a plague of all drums! Only to seem to
+ deserve well, and to beguile the supposition of that lascivious young
+ boy the count, have I run into this danger. Yet who would have
+ suspected an ambush where I was taken?
+
+ First Soldier
+
+ There is no remedy, sir, but you must die: the general says, you that
+ have so traitorously discovered the secrets of your army and made such
+ pestiferous reports of men very nobly held, can serve the world for no
+ honest use; therefore you must die. Come, headsman, off with his head.
+
+ Parolles
+
+ O Lord, sir, let me live, or let me see my death!
+
+ First Lord
+
+ That shall you, and take your leave of all your friends.
+
+ Unblinding him
+
+ So, look about you: know you any here?
+
+ Bertram
+
+ Good morrow, noble captain.
+
+ Second Lord
+
+ God bless you, Captain Parolles.
+
+ First Lord
+
+ God save you, noble captain.
+
+ Second Lord
+
+ Captain, what greeting will you to my Lord Lafeu? I am for France.
+
+ First Lord
+
+ Good captain, will you give me a copy of the sonnet you writ to Diana
+ in behalf of the Count Rousillon? an I were not a very coward, I'ld
+ compel it of you: but fare you well.
+
+ Exeunt Bertram and Lords
+
+ First Soldier
+
+ You are undone, captain, all but your scarf; that has a knot on't yet
+
+ Parolles
+
+ Who cannot be crushed with a plot?
+
+ First Soldier
+
+ If you could find out a country where but women were that had received
+ so much shame, you might begin an impudent nation. Fare ye well, sir; I
+ am for France too: we shall speak of you there.
+
+ Exit with Soldiers
+
+ Parolles
+
+ Yet am I thankful: if my heart were great,
+ 'Twould burst at this. Captain I'll be no more;
+ But I will eat and drink, and sleep as soft
+ As captain shall: simply the thing I am
+ Shall make me live. Who knows himself a braggart,
+ Let him fear this, for it will come to pass
+ that every braggart shall be found an ass.
+ Rust, sword? cool, blushes! and, Parolles, live
+ Safest in shame! being fool'd, by foolery thrive!
+ There's place and means for every man alive.
+ I'll after them.
+
+ Exit
+
+SCENE IV. Florence. The Widow's house.
+
+ Enter Helena, Widow, and Diana
+
+ Helena
+
+ That you may well perceive I have not wrong'd you,
+ One of the greatest in the Christian world
+ Shall be my surety; 'fore whose throne 'tis needful,
+ Ere I can perfect mine intents, to kneel:
+ Time was, I did him a desired office,
+ Dear almost as his life; which gratitude
+ Through flinty Tartar's bosom would peep forth,
+ And answer, thanks: I duly am inform'd
+ His grace is at Marseilles; to which place
+ We have convenient convoy. You must know
+ I am supposed dead: the army breaking,
+ My husband hies him home; where, heaven aiding,
+ And by the leave of my good lord the king,
+ We'll be before our welcome.
+
+ Widow
+
+ Gentle madam,
+ You never had a servant to whose trust
+ Your business was more welcome.
+
+ Helena
+
+ Nor you, mistress,
+ Ever a friend whose thoughts more truly labour
+ To recompense your love: doubt not but heaven
+ Hath brought me up to be your daughter's dower,
+ As it hath fated her to be my motive
+ And helper to a husband. But, O strange men!
+ That can such sweet use make of what they hate,
+ When saucy trusting of the cozen'd thoughts
+ Defiles the pitchy night: so lust doth play
+ With what it loathes for that which is away.
+ But more of this hereafter. You, Diana,
+ Under my poor instructions yet must suffer
+ Something in my behalf.
+
+ Diana
+
+ Let death and honesty
+ Go with your impositions, I am yours
+ Upon your will to suffer.
+
+ 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
+
+SCENE V. Rousillon. The Count'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
+
+ | [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/act5.html
+ 3. http://etext.library.adelaide.edu.au/