All’s Well That Ends Well

1 Enter Countess, Steward and Clown.
2 COUNTESS.
3 I will now hear. What say you of this gentlewoman?
4 STEWARD.
5 Madam, the care I have had to even your content, I wish might be found
6 in the calendar of my past endeavours; for then we wound our modesty,
7 and make foul the clearness of our deservings, when of ourselves we
8 publish them.
9 COUNTESS.
10 What does this knave here? Get you gone, sirrah. The complaints I have
11 heard of you I do not all believe; ’tis my slowness that I do not; for
12 I know you lack not folly to commit them, and have ability enough to
13 make such knaveries yours.
14 CLOWN.
15 ’Tis not unknown to you, madam, I am a poor fellow.
16 COUNTESS.
17 Well, sir.
18 CLOWN.
19 No, madam, ’tis not so well that I am poor, though many of the rich are
20 damned; but if I may have your ladyship’s good will to go to the world,
21 Isbel the woman and I will do as we may.
22 COUNTESS.
23 Wilt thou needs be a beggar?
24 CLOWN.
25 I do beg your good will in this case.
26 COUNTESS.
27 In what case?
28 CLOWN.
29 In Isbel’s case and mine own. Service is no heritage, and I think I
30 shall never have the blessing of God till I have issue of my body; for
31 they say barnes are blessings.
32 COUNTESS.
33 Tell me thy reason why thou wilt marry.
34 CLOWN.
35 My poor body, madam, requires it; I am driven on by the flesh, and he
36 must needs go that the devil drives.
37 COUNTESS.
38 Is this all your worship’s reason?
39 CLOWN.
40 Faith, madam, I have other holy reasons, such as they are.
41 COUNTESS.
42 May the world know them?
43 CLOWN.
44 I have been, madam, a wicked creature, as you and all flesh and blood
45 are; and indeed I do marry that I may repent.
46 COUNTESS.
47 Thy marriage, sooner than thy wickedness.
48 CLOWN.
49 I am out of friends, madam, and I hope to have friends for my wife’s
50 sake.
51 COUNTESS.
52 Such friends are thine enemies, knave.
53 CLOWN.
54 Y’are shallow, madam, in great friends; for the knaves come to do that
55 for me which I am a-weary of. He that ears my land spares my team, and
56 gives me leave to in the crop: if I be his cuckold, he’s my drudge. He
57 that comforts my wife is the cherisher of my flesh and blood; he that
58 cherishes my flesh and blood loves my flesh and blood; he that loves my
59 flesh and blood is my friend; ergo, he that kisses my wife is my
60 friend. If men could be contented to be what they are, there were no
61 fear in marriage; for young Charbon the puritan and old Poysam the
62 papist, howsome’er their hearts are sever’d in religion, their heads
63 are both one; they may jowl horns together like any deer i’ the herd.
64 COUNTESS.
65 Wilt thou ever be a foul-mouth’d and calumnious knave?
66 CLOWN.
67 A prophet I, madam; and I speak the truth the next way:
68 _For I the ballad will repeat,
69 Which men full true shall find;
70 Your marriage comes by destiny,
71 Your cuckoo sings by kind._
72 COUNTESS.
73 Get you gone, sir; I’ll talk with you more anon.
74 STEWARD.
75 May it please you, madam, that he bid Helen come to you; of her I am to
76 speak.
77 COUNTESS.
78 Sirrah, tell my gentlewoman I would speak with her; Helen I mean.
79 CLOWN.
80 [_Sings._]
81 _ Was this fair face the cause, quoth she,
82 Why the Grecians sacked Troy?
83 Fond done, done fond,
84 Was this King Priam’s joy?
85 With that she sighed as she stood,
86 With that she sighed as she stood,
87 And gave this sentence then:
88 Among nine bad if one be good,
89 Among nine bad if one be good,
90 There’s yet one good in ten._
91 COUNTESS.
92 What, one good in ten? You corrupt the song, sirrah.
93 CLOWN.
94 One good woman in ten, madam, which is a purifying o’ the song. Would
95 God would serve the world so all the year! We’d find no fault with the
96 tithe-woman, if I were the parson. One in ten, quoth ’a! And we might
97 have a good woman born but or every blazing star, or at an earthquake,
98 ’twould mend the lottery well; a man may draw his heart out ere he
99 pluck one.
100 COUNTESS.
101 You’ll be gone, sir knave, and do as I command you!
102 CLOWN.
103 That man should be at woman’s command, and yet no hurt done! Though
104 honesty be no puritan, yet it will do no hurt; it will wear the
105 surplice of humility over the black gown of a big heart. I am going,
106 forsooth; the business is for Helen to come hither.
107 [_Exit._]
108 COUNTESS.
109 Well, now.
110 STEWARD.
111 I know, madam, you love your gentlewoman entirely.
112 COUNTESS.
113 Faith I do. Her father bequeath’d her to me, and she herself, without
114 other advantage, may lawfully make title to as much love as she finds;
115 there is more owing her than is paid, and more shall be paid her than
116 she’ll demand.
117 STEWARD.
118 Madam, I was very late more near her than I think she wish’d me; alone
119 she was, and did communicate to herself her own words to her own ears;
120 she thought, I dare vow for her, they touch’d not any stranger sense.
121 Her matter was, she loved your son. Fortune, she said, was no goddess,
122 that had put such difference betwixt their two estates; Love no god,
123 that would not extend his might only where qualities were level; Diana
124 no queen of virgins, that would suffer her poor knight surpris’d,
125 without rescue in the first assault or ransom afterward. This she
126 deliver’d in the most bitter touch of sorrow that e’er I heard virgin
127 exclaim in, which I held my duty speedily to acquaint you withal;
128 sithence, in the loss that may happen, it concerns you something to
129 know it.
130 COUNTESS.
131 You have discharg’d this honestly; keep it to yourself; many
132 likelihoods inform’d me of this before, which hung so tottering in the
133 balance that I could neither believe nor misdoubt. Pray you leave me;
134 stall this in your bosom; and I thank you for your honest care. I will
135 speak with you further anon.
136 [_Exit Steward._]
137 Enter Helena.
138 Even so it was with me when I was young;
139 If ever we are nature’s, these are ours; this thorn
140 Doth to our rose of youth rightly belong;
141 Our blood to us, this to our blood is born;
142 It is the show and seal of nature’s truth,
143 Where love’s strong passion is impress’d in youth.
144 By our remembrances of days foregone,
145 Such were our faults, or then we thought them none.
146 Her eye is sick on’t; I observe her now.
147 HELENA.
148 What is your pleasure, madam?
149 COUNTESS.
150 You know, Helen,
151 I am a mother to you.
152 HELENA.
153 Mine honourable mistress.
154 COUNTESS.
155 Nay, a mother.
156 Why not a mother? When I said a mother,
157 Methought you saw a serpent. What’s in mother,
158 That you start at it? I say I am your mother,
159 And put you in the catalogue of those
160 That were enwombed mine. ’Tis often seen
161 Adoption strives with nature, and choice breeds
162 A native slip to us from foreign seeds.
163 You ne’er oppress’d me with a mother’s groan,
164 Yet I express to you a mother’s care.
165 God’s mercy, maiden! does it curd thy blood
166 To say I am thy mother? What’s the matter,
167 That this distempered messenger of wet,
168 The many-colour’d Iris, rounds thine eye?
169 —Why, that you are my daughter?
170 HELENA.
171 That I am not.
172 COUNTESS.
173 I say, I am your mother.
174 HELENA.
175 Pardon, madam;
176 The Count Rossillon cannot be my brother.
177 I am from humble, he from honoured name;
178 No note upon my parents, his all noble,
179 My master, my dear lord he is; and I
180 His servant live, and will his vassal die.
181 He must not be my brother.
182 COUNTESS.
183 Nor I your mother?
184 HELENA.
185 You are my mother, madam; would you were—
186 So that my lord your son were not my brother,—
187 Indeed my mother! or were you both our mothers,
188 I care no more for than I do for heaven,
189 So I were not his sister. Can’t no other,
190 But, I your daughter, he must be my brother?
191 COUNTESS.
192 Yes, Helen, you might be my daughter-in-law.
193 God shield you mean it not! daughter and mother
194 So strive upon your pulse. What! pale again?
195 My fear hath catch’d your fondness; now I see
196 The mystery of your loneliness, and find
197 Your salt tears’ head. Now to all sense ’tis gross
198 You love my son; invention is asham’d,
199 Against the proclamation of thy passion
200 To say thou dost not. Therefore tell me true;
201 But tell me then, ’tis so; for, look, thy cheeks
202 Confess it, t’one to th’other; and thine eyes
203 See it so grossly shown in thy behaviours,
204 That in their kind they speak it; only sin
205 And hellish obstinacy tie thy tongue,
206 That truth should be suspected. Speak, is’t so?
207 If it be so, you have wound a goodly clew;
208 If it be not, forswear’t: howe’er, I charge thee,
209 As heaven shall work in me for thine avail,
210 To tell me truly.
211 HELENA.
212 Good madam, pardon me.
213 COUNTESS.
214 Do you love my son?
215 HELENA.
216 Your pardon, noble mistress.
217 COUNTESS.
218 Love you my son?
219 HELENA.
220 Do not you love him, madam?
221 COUNTESS.
222 Go not about; my love hath in’t a bond
223 Whereof the world takes note. Come, come, disclose
224 The state of your affection, for your passions
225 Have to the full appeach’d.
226 HELENA.
227 Then I confess,
228 Here on my knee, before high heaven and you,
229 That before you, and next unto high heaven,
230 I love your son.
231 My friends were poor, but honest; so’s my love.
232 Be not offended; for it hurts not him
233 That he is lov’d of me; I follow him not
234 By any token of presumptuous suit,
235 Nor would I have him till I do deserve him;
236 Yet never know how that desert should be.
237 I know I love in vain, strive against hope;
238 Yet in this captious and inteemable sieve
239 I still pour in the waters of my love
240 And lack not to lose still. Thus, Indian-like,
241 Religious in mine error, I adore
242 The sun that looks upon his worshipper,
243 But knows of him no more. My dearest madam,
244 Let not your hate encounter with my love,
245 For loving where you do; but if yourself,
246 Whose aged honour cites a virtuous youth,
247 Did ever, in so true a flame of liking,
248 Wish chastely, and love dearly, that your Dian
249 Was both herself and love; O then, give pity
250 To her whose state is such that cannot choose
251 But lend and give where she is sure to lose;
252 That seeks not to find that her search implies,
253 But riddle-like, lives sweetly where she dies!
254 COUNTESS.
255 Had you not lately an intent,—speak truly,—
256 To go to Paris?
257 HELENA.
258 Madam, I had.
259 COUNTESS.
260 Wherefore? tell true.
261 HELENA.
262 I will tell truth; by grace itself I swear.
263 You know my father left me some prescriptions
264 Of rare and prov’d effects, such as his reading
265 And manifest experience had collected
266 For general sovereignty; and that he will’d me
267 In heedfull’st reservation to bestow them,
268 As notes whose faculties inclusive were
269 More than they were in note. Amongst the rest
270 There is a remedy, approv’d, set down,
271 To cure the desperate languishings whereof
272 The king is render’d lost.
273 COUNTESS.
274 This was your motive
275 For Paris, was it? Speak.
276 HELENA.
277 My lord your son made me to think of this;
278 Else Paris, and the medicine, and the king,
279 Had from the conversation of my thoughts
280 Haply been absent then.
281 COUNTESS.
282 But think you, Helen,
283 If you should tender your supposed aid,
284 He would receive it? He and his physicians
285 Are of a mind; he, that they cannot help him;
286 They, that they cannot help. How shall they credit
287 A poor unlearned virgin, when the schools,
288 Embowell’d of their doctrine, have let off
289 The danger to itself?
290 HELENA.
291 There’s something in’t
292 More than my father’s skill, which was the great’st
293 Of his profession, that his good receipt
294 Shall for my legacy be sanctified
295 By th’ luckiest stars in heaven; and would your honour
296 But give me leave to try success, I’d venture
297 The well-lost life of mine on his grace’s cure.
298 By such a day, an hour.
299 COUNTESS.
300 Dost thou believe’t?
301 HELENA.
302 Ay, madam, knowingly.
303 COUNTESS.
304 Why, Helen, thou shalt have my leave and love,
305 Means and attendants, and my loving greetings
306 To those of mine in court. I’ll stay at home,
307 And pray God’s blessing into thy attempt.
308 Be gone tomorrow; and be sure of this,
309 What I can help thee to, thou shalt not miss.
310 [_Exeunt._]