diff -r 000000000000 -r 671dee74050a searcher/tsrc/cpixsearchertest/conf/act4.txt --- /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/