--- /dev/null Thu Jan 01 00:00:00 1970 +0000
+++ b/searcher/tsrc/cpixsearchertest/conf/act5.txt Mon Apr 19 14:40:16 2010 +0300
@@ -0,0 +1,965 @@
+William Shakespeare
+
+All's Well That Ends Well
+ __________________________________________________________________
+
+ACT V
+
+SCENE I. Marseilles. A street.
+
+ Enter Helena, Widow, and Diana, with two Attendants
+
+ Helena
+
+ But this exceeding posting day and night
+ Must wear your spirits low; we cannot help it:
+ But since you have made the days and nights as one,
+ To wear your gentle limbs in my affairs,
+ Be bold you do so grow in my requital
+ As nothing can unroot you. In happy time;
+
+ Enter a Gentleman
+
+ This man may help me to his majesty's ear,
+ If he would spend his power. God save you, sir.
+
+ Gentleman
+
+ And you.
+
+ Helena
+
+ Sir, I have seen you in the court of France.
+
+ Gentleman
+
+ I have been sometimes there.
+
+ Helena
+
+ I do presume, sir, that you are not fallen
+ From the report that goes upon your goodness;
+ An therefore, goaded with most sharp occasions,
+ Which lay nice manners by, I put you to
+ The use of your own virtues, for the which
+ I shall continue thankful.
+
+ Gentleman
+
+ What's your will?
+
+ Helena
+
+ That it will please you
+ To give this poor petition to the king,
+ And aid me with that store of power you have
+ To come into his presence.
+
+ Gentleman
+
+ The king's not here.
+
+ Helena
+
+ Not here, sir!
+
+ Gentleman
+
+ Not, indeed:
+ He hence removed last night and with more haste
+ Than is his use.
+
+ Widow
+
+ Lord, how we lose our pains!
+
+ Helena
+
+ All's well that ends well yet,
+ Though time seem so adverse and means unfit.
+ I do beseech you, whither is he gone?
+
+ Gentleman
+
+ Marry, as I take it, to Rousillon;
+ Whither I am going.
+
+ Helena
+
+ I do beseech you, sir,
+ Since you are like to see the king before me,
+ Commend the paper to his gracious hand,
+ Which I presume shall render you no blame
+ But rather make you thank your pains for it.
+ I will come after you with what good speed
+ Our means will make us means.
+
+ Gentleman
+
+ This I'll do for you.
+
+ Helena
+
+ And you shall find yourself to be well thank'd,
+ Whate'er falls more. We must to horse again.
+ Go, go, provide.
+
+ Exeunt
+
+SCENE II. Rousillon. Before the Count's palace.
+
+ Enter Clown, and Parolles, following
+
+ Parolles
+
+ Good Monsieur Lavache, give my Lord Lafeu this letter: I have ere now,
+ sir, been better known to you, when I have held familiarity with
+ fresher clothes; but I am now, sir, muddied in fortune's mood, and
+ smell somewhat strong of her strong displeasure.
+
+ Clown
+
+ Truly, fortune's displeasure is but sluttish, if it smell so strongly
+ as thou speakest of: I will henceforth eat no fish of fortune's
+ buttering. Prithee, allow the wind.
+
+ Parolles
+
+ Nay, you need not to stop your nose, sir; I spake but by a metaphor.
+
+ Clown
+
+ Indeed, sir, if your metaphor stink, I will stop my nose; or against
+ any man's metaphor. Prithee, get thee further.
+
+ Parolles
+
+ Pray you, sir, deliver me this paper.
+
+ Clown
+
+ Foh! prithee, stand away: a paper from fortune's close-stool to give to
+ a nobleman! Look, here he comes himself.
+
+ Enter Lafeu
+
+ Here is a purr of fortune's, sir, or of fortune's cat,--but not a
+ musk-cat,--that has fallen into the unclean fishpond of her
+ displeasure, and, as he says, is muddied withal: pray you, sir, use the
+ carp as you may; for he looks like a poor, decayed, ingenious, foolish,
+ rascally knave. I do pity his distress in my similes of comfort and
+ leave him to your lordship.
+
+ Exit
+
+ Parolles
+
+ My lord, I am a man whom fortune hath cruelly scratched.
+
+ Lafeu
+
+ And what would you have me to do? 'Tis too late to pare her nails now.
+ Wherein have you played the knave with fortune, that she should scratch
+ you, who of herself is a good lady and would not have knaves thrive
+ long under her? There's a quart d'ecu for you: let the justices make
+ you and fortune friends: I am for other business.
+
+ Parolles
+
+ I beseech your honour to hear me one single word.
+
+ Lafeu
+
+ You beg a single penny more: come, you shall ha't; save your word.
+
+ Parolles
+
+ My name, my good lord, is Parolles.
+
+ Lafeu
+
+ You beg more than `word,' then. Cox my passion! give me your hand. How
+ does your drum?
+
+ Parolles
+
+ O my good lord, you were the first that found me!
+
+ Lafeu
+
+ Was I, in sooth? and I was the first that lost thee.
+
+ Parolles
+
+ It lies in you, my lord, to bring me in some grace, for you did bring
+ me out.
+
+ Lafeu
+
+ Out upon thee, knave! dost thou put upon me at once both the office of
+ God and the devil? One brings thee in grace and the other brings thee
+ out.
+
+ Trumpets sound
+
+ The king's coming; I know by his trumpets. Sirrah, inquire further
+ after me; I had talk of you last night: though you are a fool and a
+ knave, you shall eat; go to, follow.
+
+ Parolles
+
+ I praise God for you.
+
+ Exeunt
+
+SCENE III. Rousillon. The Count's palace.
+
+ Flourish. Enter King, Countess, Lafeu, the two French Lords, with
+ Attendants
+
+ King
+
+ We lost a jewel of her; and our esteem
+ Was made much poorer by it: but your son,
+ As mad in folly, lack'd the sense to know
+ Her estimation home.
+
+ Countess
+
+ 'Tis past, my liege;
+ And I beseech your majesty to make it
+ Natural rebellion, done i' the blaze of youth;
+ When oil and fire, too strong for reason's force,
+ O'erbears it and burns on.
+
+ King
+
+ My honour'd lady,
+ I have forgiven and forgotten all;
+ Though my revenges were high bent upon him,
+ And watch'd the time to shoot.
+
+ Lafeu
+
+ This I must say,
+ But first I beg my pardon, the young lord
+ Did to his majesty, his mother and his lady
+ Offence of mighty note; but to himself
+ The greatest wrong of all. He lost a wife
+ Whose beauty did astonish the survey
+ Of richest eyes, whose words all ears took captive,
+ Whose dear perfection hearts that scorn'd to serve
+ Humbly call'd mistress.
+
+ King
+
+ Praising what is lost
+ Makes the remembrance dear. Well, call him hither;
+ We are reconciled, and the first view shall kill
+ All repetition: let him not ask our pardon;
+ The nature of his great offence is dead,
+ And deeper than oblivion we do bury
+ The incensing relics of it: let him approach,
+ A stranger, no offender; and inform him
+ So 'tis our will he should.
+
+ Gentleman
+
+ I shall, my liege.
+
+ Exit
+
+ King
+
+ What says he to your daughter? have you spoke?
+
+ Lafeu
+
+ All that he is hath reference to your highness.
+
+ King
+
+ Then shall we have a match. I have letters sent me
+ That set him high in fame.
+
+ Enter Bertram
+
+ Lafeu
+
+ He looks well on't.
+
+ King
+
+ I am not a day of season,
+ For thou mayst see a sunshine and a hail
+ In me at once: but to the brightest beams
+ Distracted clouds give way; so stand thou forth;
+ The time is fair again.
+
+ Bertram
+
+ My high-repented blames,
+ Dear sovereign, pardon to me.
+
+ King
+
+ All is whole;
+ Not one word more of the consumed time.
+ Let's take the instant by the forward top;
+ For we are old, and on our quick'st decrees
+ The inaudible and noiseless foot of Time
+ Steals ere we can effect them. You remember
+ The daughter of this lord?
+
+ Bertram
+
+ Admiringly, my liege, at first
+ I stuck my choice upon her, ere my heart
+ Durst make too bold a herald of my tongue
+ Where the impression of mine eye infixing,
+ Contempt his scornful perspective did lend me,
+ Which warp'd the line of every other favour;
+ Scorn'd a fair colour, or express'd it stolen;
+ Extended or contracted all proportions
+ To a most hideous object: thence it came
+ That she whom all men praised and whom myself,
+ Since I have lost, have loved, was in mine eye
+ The dust that did offend it.
+
+ King
+
+ Well excused:
+ That thou didst love her, strikes some scores away
+ From the great compt: but love that comes too late,
+ Like a remorseful pardon slowly carried,
+ To the great sender turns a sour offence,
+ Crying, `That's good that's gone.' Our rash faults
+ Make trivial price of serious things we have,
+ Not knowing them until we know their grave:
+ Oft our displeasures, to ourselves unjust,
+ Destroy our friends and after weep their dust
+ Our own love waking cries to see what's done,
+ While shame full late sleeps out the afternoon.
+ Be this sweet Helen's knell, and now forget her.
+ Send forth your amorous token for fair Maudlin:
+ The main consents are had; and here we'll stay
+ To see our widower's second marriage-day.
+
+ Countess
+
+ Which better than the first, O dear heaven, bless!
+ Or, ere they meet, in me, O nature, cesse!
+
+ Lafeu
+
+ Come on, my son, in whom my house's name
+ Must be digested, give a favour from you
+ To sparkle in the spirits of my daughter,
+ That she may quickly come.
+
+ Bertram gives a ring
+
+ By my old beard,
+ And every hair that's on't, Helen, that's dead,
+ Was a sweet creature: such a ring as this,
+ The last that e'er I took her at court,
+ I saw upon her finger.
+
+ Bertram
+
+ Hers it was not.
+
+ King
+
+ Now, pray you, let me see it; for mine eye,
+ While I was speaking, oft was fasten'd to't.
+ This ring was mine; and, when I gave it Helen,
+ I bade her, if her fortunes ever stood
+ Necessitied to help, that by this token
+ I would relieve her. Had you that craft, to reave
+ her
+ Of what should stead her most?
+
+ Bertram
+
+ My gracious sovereign,
+ Howe'er it pleases you to take it so,
+ The ring was never hers.
+
+ Countess
+
+ Son, on my life,
+ I have seen her wear it; and she reckon'd it
+ At her life's rate.
+
+ Lafeu
+
+ I am sure I saw her wear it.
+
+ Bertram
+
+ You are deceived, my lord; she never saw it:
+ In Florence was it from a casement thrown me,
+ Wrapp'd in a paper, which contain'd the name
+ Of her that threw it: noble she was, and thought
+ I stood engaged: but when I had subscribed
+ To mine own fortune and inform'd her fully
+ I could not answer in that course of honour
+ As she had made the overture, she ceased
+ In heavy satisfaction and would never
+ Receive the ring again.
+
+ King
+
+ Plutus himself,
+ That knows the tinct and multiplying medicine,
+ Hath not in nature's mystery more science
+ Than I have in this ring: 'twas mine, 'twas Helen's,
+ Whoever gave it you. Then, if you know
+ That you are well acquainted with yourself,
+ Confess 'twas hers, and by what rough enforcement
+ You got it from her: she call'd the saints to surety
+ That she would never put it from her finger,
+ Unless she gave it to yourself in bed,
+ Where you have never come, or sent it us
+ Upon her great disaster.
+
+ Bertram
+
+ She never saw it.
+
+ King
+
+ Thou speak'st it falsely, as I love mine honour;
+ And makest conjectural fears to come into me
+ Which I would fain shut out. If it should prove
+ That thou art so inhuman,--'twill not prove so;--
+ And yet I know not: thou didst hate her deadly,
+ And she is dead; which nothing, but to close
+ Her eyes myself, could win me to believe,
+ More than to see this ring. Take him away.
+
+ Guards seize Bertram
+
+ My fore-past proofs, howe'er the matter fall,
+ Shall tax my fears of little vanity,
+ Having vainly fear'd too little. Away with him!
+ We'll sift this matter further.
+
+ Bertram
+
+ If you shall prove
+ This ring was ever hers, you shall as easy
+ Prove that I husbanded her bed in Florence,
+ Where yet she never was.
+
+ Exit, guarded
+
+ King
+
+ I am wrapp'd in dismal thinkings.
+
+ Enter a Gentleman
+
+ Gentleman
+
+ Gracious sovereign,
+ Whether I have been to blame or no, I know not:
+ Here's a petition from a Florentine,
+ Who hath for four or five removes come short
+ To tender it herself. I undertook it,
+ Vanquish'd thereto by the fair grace and speech
+ Of the poor suppliant, who by this I know
+ Is here attending: her business looks in her
+ With an importing visage; and she told me,
+ In a sweet verbal brief, it did concern
+ Your highness with herself.
+
+ King
+
+ [Reads] Upon his many protestations to marry me when his wife was dead,
+ I blush to say it, he won me. Now is the Count Rousillon a widower: his
+ vows are forfeited to me, and my honour's paid to him. He stole from
+ Florence, taking no leave, and I follow him to his country for justice:
+ grant it me, O king! in you it best lies; otherwise a seducer
+ flourishes, and a poor maid is undone.
+ Diana CAPILET.
+
+ Lafeu
+
+ I will buy me a son-in-law in a fair, and toll for this: I'll none of
+ him.
+
+ King
+
+ The heavens have thought well on thee Lafeu,
+ To bring forth this discovery. Seek these suitors:
+ Go speedily and bring again the count.
+ I am afeard the life of Helen, lady,
+ Was foully snatch'd.
+
+ Countess
+
+ Now, justice on the doers!
+
+ Re-enter Bertram, guarded
+
+ King
+
+ I wonder, sir, sith wives are monsters to you,
+ And that you fly them as you swear them lordship,
+ Yet you desire to marry.
+
+ Enter Widow and Diana
+
+ What woman's that?
+
+ Diana
+
+ I am, my lord, a wretched Florentine,
+ Derived from the ancient Capilet:
+ My suit, as I do understand, you know,
+ And therefore know how far I may be pitied.
+
+ Widow
+
+ I am her mother, sir, whose age and honour
+ Both suffer under this complaint we bring,
+ And both shall cease, without your remedy.
+
+ King
+
+ Come hither, count; do you know these women?
+
+ Bertram
+
+ My lord, I neither can nor will deny
+ But that I know them: do they charge me further?
+
+ Diana
+
+ Why do you look so strange upon your wife?
+
+ Bertram
+
+ She's none of mine, my lord.
+
+ Diana
+
+ If you shall marry,
+ You give away this hand, and that is mine;
+ You give away heaven's vows, and those are mine;
+ You give away myself, which is known mine;
+ For I by vow am so embodied yours,
+ That she which marries you must marry me,
+ Either both or none.
+
+ Lafeu
+
+ Your reputation comes too short for my daughter; you are no husband for
+ her.
+
+ Bertram
+
+ My lord, this is a fond and desperate creature,
+ Whom sometime I have laugh'd with: let your highness
+ Lay a more noble thought upon mine honour
+ Than for to think that I would sink it here.
+
+ King
+
+ Sir, for my thoughts, you have them ill to friend
+ Till your deeds gain them: fairer prove your honour
+ Than in my thought it lies.
+
+ Diana
+
+ Good my lord,
+ Ask him upon his oath, if he does think
+ He had not my virginity.
+
+ King
+
+ What say'st thou to her?
+
+ Bertram
+
+ She's impudent, my lord,
+ And was a common gamester to the camp.
+
+ Diana
+
+ He does me wrong, my lord; if I were so,
+ He might have bought me at a common price:
+ Do not believe him. O, behold this ring,
+ Whose high respect and rich validity
+ Did lack a parallel; yet for all that
+ He gave it to a commoner o' the camp,
+ If I be one.
+
+ Countess
+
+ He blushes, and 'tis it:
+ Of six preceding ancestors, that gem,
+ Conferr'd by testament to the sequent issue,
+ Hath it been owed and worn. This is his wife;
+ That ring's a thousand proofs.
+
+ King
+
+ Methought you said
+ You saw one here in court could witness it.
+
+ Diana
+
+ I did, my lord, but loath am to produce
+ So bad an instrument: his name's Parolles.
+
+ Lafeu
+
+ I saw the man to-day, if man he be.
+
+ King
+
+ Find him, and bring him hither.
+
+ Exit an Attendant
+
+ Bertram
+
+ What of him?
+ He's quoted for a most perfidious slave,
+ With all the spots o' the world tax'd and debosh'd;
+ Whose nature sickens but to speak a truth.
+ Am I or that or this for what he'll utter,
+ That will speak any thing?
+
+ King
+
+ She hath that ring of yours.
+
+ Bertram
+
+ I think she has: certain it is I liked her,
+ And boarded her i' the wanton way of youth:
+ She knew her distance and did angle for me,
+ Madding my eagerness with her restraint,
+ As all impediments in fancy's course
+ Are motives of more fancy; and, in fine,
+ Her infinite cunning, with her modern grace,
+ Subdued me to her rate: she got the ring;
+ And I had that which any inferior might
+ At market-price have bought.
+
+ Diana
+
+ I must be patient:
+ You, that have turn'd off a first so noble wife,
+ May justly diet me. I pray you yet;
+ Since you lack virtue, I will lose a husband;
+ Send for your ring, I will return it home,
+ And give me mine again.
+
+ Bertram
+
+ I have it not.
+
+ King
+
+ What ring was yours, I pray you?
+
+ Diana
+
+ Sir, much like
+ The same upon your finger.
+
+ King
+
+ Know you this ring? this ring was his of late.
+
+ Diana
+
+ And this was it I gave him, being abed.
+
+ King
+
+ The story then goes false, you threw it him
+ Out of a casement.
+
+ Diana
+
+ I have spoke the truth.
+
+ Enter Parolles
+
+ Bertram
+
+ My lord, I do confess the ring was hers.
+
+ King
+
+ You boggle shrewdly, every feather stars you.
+ Is this the man you speak of?
+
+ Diana
+
+ Ay, my lord.
+
+ King
+
+ Tell me, sirrah, but tell me true, I charge you,
+ Not fearing the displeasure of your master,
+ Which on your just proceeding I'll keep off,
+ By him and by this woman here what know you?
+
+ Parolles
+
+ So please your majesty, my master hath been an honourable gentleman:
+ tricks he hath had in him, which gentlemen have.
+
+ King
+
+ Come, come, to the purpose: did he love this woman?
+
+ Parolles
+
+ Faith, sir, he did love her; but how?
+
+ King
+
+ How, I pray you?
+
+ Parolles
+
+ He did love her, sir, as a gentleman loves a woman.
+
+ King
+
+ How is that?
+
+ Parolles
+
+ He loved her, sir, and loved her not.
+
+ King
+
+ As thou art a knave, and no knave. What an equivocal companion is this!
+
+ Parolles
+
+ I am a poor man, and at your majesty's command.
+
+ Lafeu
+
+ He's a good drum, my lord, but a naughty orator.
+
+ Diana
+
+ Do you know he promised me marriage?
+
+ Parolles
+
+ Faith, I know more than I'll speak.
+
+ King
+
+ But wilt thou not speak all thou knowest?
+
+ Parolles
+
+ Yes, so please your majesty. I did go between them, as I said; but more
+ than that, he loved her: for indeed he was mad for her, and talked of
+ Satan and of Limbo and of Furies and I know not what: yet I was in that
+ credit with them at that time that I knew of their going to bed, and of
+ other motions, as promising her marriage, and things which would derive
+ me ill will to speak of; therefore I will not speak what I know.
+
+ King
+
+ Thou hast spoken all already, unless thou canst say they are married:
+ but thou art too fine in thy evidence; therefore stand aside.
+ This ring, you say, was yours?
+
+ Diana
+
+ Ay, my good lord.
+
+ King
+
+ Where did you buy it? or who gave it you?
+
+ Diana
+
+ It was not given me, nor I did not buy it.
+
+ King
+
+ Who lent it you?
+
+ Diana
+
+ It was not lent me neither.
+
+ King
+
+ Where did you find it, then?
+
+ Diana
+
+ I found it not.
+
+ King
+
+ If it were yours by none of all these ways,
+ How could you give it him?
+
+ Diana
+
+ I never gave it him.
+
+ Lafeu
+
+ This woman's an easy glove, my lord; she goes off and on at pleasure.
+
+ King
+
+ This ring was mine; I gave it his first wife.
+
+ Diana
+
+ It might be yours or hers, for aught I know.
+
+ King
+
+ Take her away; I do not like her now;
+ To prison with her: and away with him.
+ Unless thou tell'st me where thou hadst this ring,
+ Thou diest within this hour.
+
+ Diana
+
+ I'll never tell you.
+
+ King
+
+ Take her away.
+
+ Diana
+
+ I'll put in bail, my liege.
+
+ King
+
+ I think thee now some common customer.
+
+ Diana
+
+ By Jove, if ever I knew man, 'twas you.
+
+ King
+
+ Wherefore hast thou accused him all this while?
+
+ Diana
+
+ Because he's guilty, and he is not guilty:
+ He knows I am no maid, and he'll swear to't;
+ I'll swear I am a maid, and he knows not.
+ Great king, I am no strumpet, by my life;
+ I am either maid, or else this old man's wife.
+
+ King
+
+ She does abuse our ears: to prison with her.
+
+ Diana
+
+ Good mother, fetch my bail. Stay, royal sir:
+
+ Exit Widow
+
+ The jeweller that owes the ring is sent for,
+ And he shall surety me. But for this lord,
+ Who hath abused me, as he knows himself,
+ Though yet he never harm'd me, here I quit him:
+ He knows himself my bed he hath defiled;
+ And at that time he got his wife with child:
+ Dead though she be, she feels her young one kick:
+ So there's my riddle: one that's dead is quick:
+ And now behold the meaning.
+
+ Re-enter Widow, with Helena
+
+ King
+
+ Is there no exorcist
+ Beguiles the truer office of mine eyes?
+ Is't real that I see?
+
+ Helena
+
+ No, my good lord;
+ 'Tis but the shadow of a wife you see,
+ The name and not the thing.
+
+ Bertram
+
+ Both, both. O, pardon!
+
+ Helena
+
+ O my good lord, when I was like this maid,
+ I found you wondrous kind. There is your ring;
+ And, look you, here's your letter; this it says:
+ `When from my finger you can get this ring
+ And are by me with child,' & c. This is done:
+ Will you be mine, now you are doubly won?
+
+ Bertram
+
+ If she, my liege, can make me know this clearly,
+ I'll love her dearly, ever, ever dearly.
+
+ Helena
+
+ If it appear not plain and prove untrue,
+ Deadly divorce step between me and you!
+ O my dear mother, do I see you living?
+
+ Lafeu
+
+ Mine eyes smell onions; I shall weep anon:
+
+ To Parolles
+
+ Good Tom Drum, lend me a handkercher: so,
+ I thank thee: wait on me home, I'll make sport with thee:
+ Let thy courtesies alone, they are scurvy ones.
+
+ King
+
+ Let us from point to point this story know,
+ To make the even truth in pleasure flow.
+
+ To Diana
+
+ If thou be'st yet a fresh uncropped flower,
+ Choose thou thy husband, and I'll pay thy dower;
+ For I can guess that by thy honest aid
+ Thou keep'st a wife herself, thyself a maid.
+ Of that and all the progress, more or less,
+ Resolvedly more leisure shall express:
+ All yet seems well; and if it end so meet,
+ The bitter past, more welcome is the sweet.
+
+ Flourish
+
+ | [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/act6.html
+ 3. http://etext.library.adelaide.edu.au/