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Jaq. But for the seventh cause; how did you find the quarrel on the seventh cause?
Touch. Upon a lie seven times removed; Bear your body more seeming, Audrey : :- as thus, sir. I did dislike the cut of a certain courtier's beard; he sent me word, if I said his beard was not cut well, he was in the mind it was: This is called the Retort courteous. If I sent him word again, it was not well cut, he would send me word, he cut it to please himself: this is called the Quip modest. If again, it was not well cut, he disabled my judgment: This is call'd the Reply churlish. If again, it was not well cut, he would answer, I spake not true: This is call'd the Reproof valiant. If again, it was not well cut, he would say I lie. This is call'd the Countercheck quarrelsome: and so to the Lie circumstantial, and the Lie direct.
Jaq. And how oft did you say, his beard was not well cut?
Touch. I durst go no further than the Lie circumstantial, nor he durst not give me the Lie direct; and so we measured swords, and parted.
Jaq. Can you nominate in order now the degrees of the lie?
Touch. O, sir, we quarrel in print, by the book: as you have books for good manners: I will name you the degrees. The first, the Retort courteous ; the second the Quip modest; the third, the Reply churlish; the fourth, the Reproof valiant; the fifth, the Countercheck quarrelsome: the sixth, the Lie with circumstance; the seventh, the Lie direct. All these you may avoid, but the lie direct; and you may avoid that too, with an If. I knew when seven justices could not take up a quarrel; but when the parties were met themselves, one of them thought | but of an If, as, If you said so, then I said so; And they shook hands, and swore brothers. Your If is the only peace-maker; much virtue in If. Jaq. Is not this a rare fellow, my lord? he's as good at any thing, and yet a fool.
Duke S. He uses his folly like a stalking-horse, and under the presentation of that, he shoots his wit.
Enter HYMEN, leading ROSALIND in woman's clothes; and CELIA.
Hym. Then is there murth in heaven,
To you I give myself, for I am yours.
Ros. To you I give myself, for I am yours. [TO DUKE S. [TO ORLANDO.
Of these most strange events: Here's eight that must take hands, To join in Hymen's bands,
If truth holds true contents. You and you no cross shall part:
[To ORLANDO and ROSALIND. You and you are heart in heart:
[To OLIVER and CELIA, You [to PHEBE] to his love must accord, Or have a woman to your lord: — You and you are sure together,
[To TOUCHSTONE and AUDREY. As the winter to foul weather. Whiles a wedlock hymn we sing, Feed yourselves with questioning; That reason wonder may diminish, How thus we met, and these things finish.
SONG. Wedding is great Juno's crown;
O blessed bond of board and bed! 'Tis Hymen peoples every town;
High wedlock then be honoured : Honour, high honour and renown, To Hymen, god of every town!
Duke S. O my dear niece, welcome thou art to
Even daughter, welcome in no less degree.
Phe. I will not eat my word, now thou art mine; Thy faith my fancy to thee doth combine.
Enter JAQUEs de Bois.
Jaq. de B. Let me have audience for a word or two;
I am the second son of old sir Rowland,
Welcome, young man ; Thou offer'st fairly to thy brother's wedding: To one, his lands with-held and to the other, A land itself at large, a potent dukedom. First, in this forest, let us do those ends
That here were well begun, and well begot:
Play, musick-and you brides and bridegrooms all, With measure heap'd in joy, to the measures fall.
Jaq. Sir, by your patience; if I heard you rightly, The duke hath put on a religious life, And thrown into neglect the pompous court? Jaq. de B. He hath.
Jaq. To him will I: out of these convertites There is much matter to be heard and learn'd. You to your former honour I bequeath;
[TO DUKE S. Your patience, and your virtue, well deserves it :
You [to ORLANDO] to a love, that your true faith doth merit:
You [to OLIVER] to your land, and love, and great
You [to SILVIUS] to a long and well deserved bed:
Ros. It is not the fashion to see the lady the epilogue: but it is no more unhandsome, than to see the lord the prologue. If it be true, that good wine needs no bush, 'tis true, that a good play needs no epilogue: Yet to good wine they do use good bushes; and good plays prove the better by the help of good epilogues. What a case am I in then, that am neither a good epilogue, nor cannot insinuate with you in the behalf of a good play? I am not furnished like a beggar, therefore to beg will not become me my way is, to conjure you; and I'll begin with the women. I charge you, 0
women, for the love you bear to men, to like as much of this play as please them: and so I charge you, O men, for the love you bear to women, (as I perceive by your simpering, none of you hate them,) that between you and the women, the play may please. If I were a woman, I would kiss as many of you as had beards that pleased me, complexions that liked me, and breaths that I defied not; and, I am sure, as many as have good beards, or good faces, or sweet breaths, will, for my kind offer, when I make curt'sy, bid me farewell. [Exeunt.
ALL'S WELL THAT ENDS WELL.
KING OF FRANCE.
BERTRAM, Count of Rousillon.
LAFEU, an old lord.
Several young French Lords, that serve with Ber- MOLENTA, neighbours and friends to the Widow.
tram in the Florentine war.
servants to the Countess of Rousillon.
SCENE,-partly in FRANCE, and partly in TUSCANY
-Rousillon. A Room in the Coun- | and it was his great right to be so: Gerard de
Enter BERTRAM, the COUNTESS OF ROUSILLON,
Count. In delivering my son from me, I bury a
Ber. And I, in going, madam, weep o'er my father's death anew: but I must attend his majesty's command, to whom I am now in ward, evermore in subjection.
COUNTESS OF ROUSILLON, mother to Bertram.
Laf. You shall find of the king a husband, madam;-you, sir, a father: He that so generally is at all times good, must of necessity hold his virtue to you; whose worthiness would stir it up where it wanted, rather than lack it where there is such abundance.
Count. What hope is there of his majesty's amendment?
Lords, attending on the King; Officers, Soldiers, &c.
Laf. He hath abandoned his physicians, madam; under whose practices he hath persecuted time with hope; and finds no other advantage in the process but only the of hope by time. Count. This young gentlewoman had a father, (0, that had! how sad a passage 'tis !) whose skill was almost as great as his honesty; had it stretched so far, would have made nature immortal, and death should have play for lack of work. 'Would, for the king's sake, he were living! I think it would be the death of the king's disease.
Laf. How called you the man, you speak of, madam ? Count. He was famous, sir, in his profession,
Laf. He was excellent, indeed, madam; the king very lately spoke of him, admiringly, and mourningly he was skilful enough to have lived still, if knowledge could be set up against mortality.
Ber. What is it, my good lord, the king languishes of?
Laf. A fistula, my lord.
Ber. I heard not of it before.
Laf. I would it were not notorious. Was this gentlewoman the daughter of Gerard de Narbon?
Count. His sole child, my lord; and bequeathed to my overlooking. I have those hopes of her good, that her education promises; her dispositions she inherits, which make fair gifts fairer; for where an unclean mind carries virtuous qualities, there commendations go with pity, they are virtues and traitors too; in her they are the better for their simpleness; she derives her honesty, and achieves her goodness.
Laf. Your commendation madam, get from her
Count. 'Tis the best brine a maiden can season her praise in. The remembrance of her father never approaches her heart, but the tyranny of her sorrows takes all livelihood from her cheek. No more of this, Helena, go to, no more; lest it be rather thought you affect a sorrow, than to have.
Hel. I do affect a sorrow, indeed, but I have it too. Laf. Moderate lamentation is the right of the dead, excessive grief the enemy to the living.
Count. If the living be enemy to the grief, the excess makes it soon mortal.
Ber. Madam, I desire your holy wishes.
Count. Be thou blest, Bertram! and succeed thy virgins might blow up men?
And these great tears grace his remembrance more
Par. There is none; man, sitting down before you, will undermine you, and blow you up. Hel. Bless our poor virginity from underminers, and blowers up!· Is there no military policy, how
Par. Are you meditating on virginity?
Hel. Ay. You have some stain of soldier in you; let me ask you a question: Man is enemy to virginity; how may we barricado it against him?
Par. Keep him out.
Hel. But he assails; and our virginity, though valiant in the defence, yet is weak: unfold to us some warlike resistance.
Par. Virginity, being blown down, man will quicklier be blown up: marry, in blowing him down again, with the breach yourselves made, you lose your city. It is not politick in the commonwealth of nature, to preserve virginity. Loss of virginity is rational increase; and there was never virgin got, till virginity was first lost. That, you were made of, is metal to make virgins. Virginity, by being once lost, may be ten times found; by being ever kept, it is ever lost: 'tis too cold a companion; away with it.
Hel. I will stand for't a little, though therefore I die a virgin.
Par. There's little can be said in't; 'tis against the rule of nature. To speak on the part of virginity, is to accuse your mothers; which is most infallible disobedience. He, that hangs himself, is a virgin virginity murders itself; and should be buried in highways, out of all sanctified limit, as a desperate offendress against nature. Virginity breeds mites, much like a cheese; consumes itself to the very paring, and so dies with feeding his own stomach. Besides, virginity is peevish, proud, idle, made of self-love, which is the most inhibited sin in the canon. Keep it not; you cannot choose but lose by't: Out with't: within ten years it will make itself ten, which is a goodly increase; and the principal itself not much the worse: Away with't.
Hel. How might one do, sir, to lose it to her own liking?
Par. Let me see: Marry, ill, to like him that ne'er it likes. 'Tis a commodity will lose the gloss with lying; the longer kept, the less worth off with't, while 'tis vendible: answer the time of request. Virginity, like an old courtier, wears her cap out of fashion; richly suited, but unsuitable: just like the brooch and tooth-pick, which wear not now: Your date is better in your pie and your porridge, than in your cheek: And your virginity, your old virginity, is like one of our French withered pears; it looks ill, it eats dryly; marry, 'tis a withered pear; it was formerly better; marry, yet, 'tis a withered pear: Will you any thing with it? Hel. Not my virginity yet.
There shall your master have a thousand loves,
A guide, a goddess, and a sovereign,
Par. What one, i'faith?
Hel. That I wish well. - 'Tis pity
Hel. That wishing well had not a body in't,
Enter a Page.
It may well serve
Page. Monsieur Parolles, my lord calls for you. [Erit Page. Par. Little Helen, farewell: if I can remember thee, I will think of thee at court.
Hel. Monsieur Parolles, you were born under a charitable star.
Par. When he was predominant.
Hel. When he was retrograde, I think, rather.
Par. Under Mars, I.
Hel. I especially think, under Mars.
King. Youth, thou bear'st thy father's face;
Par. Why under Mars?
Hel. The wars have so kept you under, that you May'st thou inherit too! Welcome to Paris.
must needs be born under Mars.
Ber. My thanks and duty are your majesty's.
Par. Why think you so?
Hel. You go so much backward, when you fight.
Par. That's for advantage.
Hel. So is running away, when fear proposes the safety: But the composition, that your valour and fear makes in you, is a virtue of a good wing, and I like the wear well.
Par. I am so full of businesses, I cannot answer thee acutely I will return perfect courtier; in the which, my instruction shall serve to naturalize thee, so thou wilt be capable of a courtier's counsel, and understand what advice shall thrust upon thee; else thou diest in thine unthankfulness, and thine ignorance makes thee away: farewell. When thou hast leisure, say thy prayers; when thou hast none, remember thy friends: get thee a good husband, and use him as he uses thee: so farewell. [Exit.
Hel. Our remedies oft in ourselves do lie, Which we ascribe to heaven: the fated sky Gives us free scope; only, doth backward pull Our slow designs, when we ourselves are dull. What power is it, which mounts my love so high; That makes me see, and cannot feed mine eye? The mightiest space in fortune nature brings To join like likes, and kiss like native things. Impossible be strange attempts, to those That weigh their pains in sense; and de suppose, What hath been cannot be: Who ever strove To show her merit, that did miss her love? The king's disease my project may deceive me. But my intents are fix'd, and will not leave me.
[Exit. SCENE II.- Paris. A Room in the King's Palace.
Flourish of cornets. Enter the KING OF FRANCE,
What's he comes here?
Enter BERTRAM, LAFEU, and PAROLLES. 1 Lord. It is the count Rousillon, my good lord, Young Bertram.
King. He hath arm'd our answer, And Florence is denied before he comes: Yet, for our gentlemen, that mean to see The Tuscan service, freely have they leve To stand on either part.
First try'd our soldiership! He did look far
Into the service of the time, and was
Discipled of the bravest : he lasted long;
Till their own scorn return to them unnoted,
In their poor praise he humbled: Such a man
His good remembrance, sir, Lies richer in your thoughts, than on his tomb; So in approof lives not his epitaph,
As in your royal speech.
King. 'Would, I were with him? He would al
So 'tis reported, sir.
King. Nay, 'tis most credible; we here receive it I, after him, do after him wish too,
His love and wisdom,
(Methinks, I hear him now: his plausive words
Since I nor wax, nor honey, can bring home,
You are lov'd, sir: They, that least lend it shall lack you, first. you King. I fill a place, I know't. How long is't,
Since the physician at your father's died?
Ber. Some six months since, my lord. King. If he were living, I would try him yet; →→ Lend me an arm; the rest have worn me out With several applications : - nature and sickness