The Complete Works of William Shakespeare Part 21

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ACT V. SCENE 1.

Ma.r.s.eilles. 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.

Enter a GENTLEMAN

In happy time!

This man may help me to his Majesty's ear, If he would spend his power. G.o.d 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 fall'n From the report that goes upon your goodness; And 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 pet.i.tion 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 remov'd 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

ACT V SCENE 2.

Rousillon. The inner court of the COUNT'S palace

Enter CLOWN and PAROLLES

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 s.l.u.ttish, if it smell so strongly as thou speak'st of. I will henceforth eat no fish of Fortune's b.u.t.t'ring. 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 n.o.bleman! Look here he comes himself.

Enter LAFEU

Here is a pur of Fortune's, sir, or of Fortune's cat, but not a musk-cat, that has fall'n 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 scratch'd.

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 cardecue 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. c.o.x my pa.s.sion! 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 G.o.d and the devil? One brings the 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 G.o.d for you. Exeunt

ACT V SCENE 3.

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' th' 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 reconcil'd, and the first view shall kill All repet.i.tion. Let him not ask our pardon; The nature of his great offence is dead, And deeper than oblivion do we bury Th' 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 GENTLEMAN 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 sets 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 Th' 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 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 stol'n, Extended or contracted all proportions To a most hideous object. Thence it came That she whom all men prais'd, and whom myself, Since I have lost, have lov'd, was in mine eye The dust that did offend it.

KING. Well excus'd.

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 shameful hate 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!