Alls Wel that ends Well

But give me leave to try success, I'd venture

The well-lost life of mine on his Grace's cure.

By such a day and hour.

COUNTESS. Dost thou believe't?

HELENA. Ay, madam, knowingly.

COUNTESS. Why, Helen, thou shalt have my leave and love,

Means and attendants, and my loving greetings

To those of mine in court. I'll stay at home,

And pray God's blessing into thy attempt.

Be gone to-morrow; and be sure of this,

What I can help thee to thou shalt not miss. Exeunt

ACT II.

SCENE 1.

Paris. The KING'S palace

Flourish of cornets. Enter the KING with divers young LORDS taking leave

for the Florentine war; BERTRAM and PAROLLES; ATTENDANTS

KING. Farewell, young lords; these war-like 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 receiv'd,

And is enough for both.

FIRST LORD. 'Tis our hope, sir,

After well-ent'red 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 aloud. 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. [To ATTENDANTS] Come hither to me.

The KING retires 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 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 tortur'd 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

entrench'd it. Say to him I live; and observe his reports for me.

FIRST LORD. We shall, noble Captain.

PAROLLES. Mars dote on you for his novices! Exeunt LORDS

What will ye do?

Re-enter the KING

BERTRAM. Stay; the King! 

PAROLLES. Use a more spacious ceremony to the noble lords; you have

restrain'd 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 receiv'd 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 cur'd

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 arriv'd,

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 amaz'd 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 the

May spend our wonder too, or take off thine

By wond'ring how thou took'st it.

LAFEU. Nay, I'll fit you,

And not be all day neither. Exit LAFEU

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 practice,

And of his old experience th' only 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 inaidable 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 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 us'd, 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. Art thou so confident? Within what space

Hop'st thou my cure?

HELENA. The greatest 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 dar'st thou venture?

HELENA. Tax of impudence,

A strumpet's boldness, a divulged shame,

Traduc'd by odious ballads; my maiden's name

Sear'd otherwise; ne worse of worst-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 deserv'd. 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 observ'd,

Thy will by my performance shall be serv'd.

So make the choice of thy own time, for I,

Thy resolv'd 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 cam'st, 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 deed.

[Flourish. Exeunt]

SCENE 2.

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 taffety punk, as Tib's rush for Tom's

forefinger, as a pancake for Shrove Tuesday, a morris for Mayday,

as the nail to his hole, the cuckold to his horn, as a scolding

quean 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 whipp'd, 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

thing's may serve long, but not serve ever.

COUNTESS. I play the noble housewife with the time,

To entertain it 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

SCENE 3.

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-both of Galen and Paracelsus.

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 help'd-

PAROLLES. Right; as 'twere a man assur'd 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-ye-call't here.

LAFEU. [Reading the ballad title] '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-

PAROLLES. And debile minister, great power, great transcendence;

which should, indeed, give us a further use to be made than alone

the recov'ry of the King, as to be-

LAFEU. Generally thankful.

Enter KING, HELENA, and ATTENDANTS

PAROLLES. I would have said it; you say well. Here comes the King.

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.

Exit an ATTENDANT

Sit, my preserver, by thy patient's side;

And with this healthful hand, whose banish'd sense

Thou has repeal'd, a second time receive

The confirmation of my promis'd 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'd 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 restor'd 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 threat'ningly 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 whipt; or I would send them to th' 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 rais'd 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 dislik'st,

A poor physician's daughter-thou dislik'st

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 fore-goers. The mere word's a slave,

Debauch'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 restor'd, 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. Check 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 lov'st her,

Thy love's to me religious; else, does err.

Exeunt all but LAFEU and PAROLLES who stay behind,

commenting of this wedding

LAFEU. 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 burden. 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'rt 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, deserv'd it.

LAFEU. Yes, good faith, ev'ry dram of it; and I will not bate thee

a scruple.

PAROLLES. Well, I shall be wiser.

LAFEU. Ev'n as soon as thou canst, for thou hast to pull at a smack

o' th' 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 have of-

I'll beat him, and 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 thy 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'd beat 

thee. Methink'st 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'd call you knave. I leave you.

Exit

Enter BERTRAM

PAROLLES. Good, very, good, it is so then. Good, very good; let it

be conceal'd awhile.

BERTRAM. Undone, and forfeited to cares for ever!

PAROLLES. What's the matter, sweetheart?

BERTRAM. Although before the solemn priest I have sworn,

I will not bed her.

PAROLLES. What, what, sweetheart? 

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 th' wars!

BERTRAM. There's letters from my mother; what th' import is I know