William Shakespeare's "All's Well that Ends Well" in the complete original text.
William Shakespeare's plays, sonnets and poems at AbsoluteShakespeare.com
Home Plays Sonnets Poems Quotes Summaries Essays Glossary Links Help

HOME > Plays > All's Well that Ends Well > Act II. Scene V.

All's Well that Ends Well

Study Guides
Hamlet
Julius Caesar
King Henry IV
King Lear
Macbeth
Merchant of Venice
Othello
Romeo and Juliet
The Tempest
Twelfth Night

Trivia
Authorship
Bard Facts
Bibliography
Biography
FAQ
Films
Globe Theatre
Pictures
Quiz
Timeline

Act II. Scene V.

Scene V.—Another Room in the Same.

Enter LAFEU and BERTRAM.

Laf. But I hope your lordship thinks not him
a soldier.
Ber. Yes, my lord, and of very valiant approof.
Laf. You have it from his own deliverance.
Ber. And by other warranted testimony.
Laf. Then my dial goes not true: I took this
lark for a bunting.
Ber. I do assure you, my lord, he is very great
in knowledge, and accordingly valiant.
Laf. I have then sinned against his experience
and transgressed against his valour; and my
state that way is dangerous, since I cannot yet
find in my heart to repent. Here he comes; I
pray you, make us friends; I will pursue the
amity.

Enter PAROLLES.
Par. [To BERTRAM.] These things shall be
done, sir.
Laf. Pray you, sir, who's his tailor?
Par. Sir?
Laf. O! I know him well. Ay, sir; he, sir, is
a good workman, a very good tailor.
Ber. [Aside to PAROLLES.] Is she gone to the
king?
Par. She is.
Ber. Will she away to-night?
Par. As you'll have her.
Ber. I have writ my letters, casketed my trea-
sure,
Given orders for our horses; and to-night,
When I should take possession of the bride,
End ere I do begin.
Laf. A good traveller is something at the lat-
ter end of a dinner; but one that lies three
thirds, and uses a known truth to pass a thou-
sand nothings with, should be once heard and
thrice beaten. God save you, captain.
Ber. Is there any unkindness between my
lord and you, monsieur?
Par. I know not how I have deserved to run
into my lord's displeasure.
Laf. You have made shift to run into 't, boots
and spurs and all, like him that leaped into the
custard; and out of it you'll run again, rather
than suffer question for your residence.
Ber. It may be you have mistaken him, my
lord.
Laf. And shall do so ever, though I took him
at his prayers. Fare you well, my lord; and
believe this of me, there can be no kernel in this
light nut; the soul of this man is his clothes.
Trust him not in matter of heavy consequence;
I have kept of them tame, and know their na-
tures. Farewell, monsieur: I have spoken better
of you than you have or will to deserve at my
hand; but we must do good against evil. [Exit.
Par. An idle lord, I swear.
Ber. I think not so.
Par. Why, do you not know him?
Ber. Yes, I do know him well; and common
speech
Gives him a worthy pass. Here comes my clog.

Enter HELENA.
Hel. I have, sir, as I was commanded from
you,
Spoke with the king, and have procur'd his leave
For present parting; only, he desires
Some private speech with you.
Ber. I shall obey his will.
You must not marvel, Helen, at my course,
Which holds not colour with the time, nor does
The ministration and required office
On my particular: prepar'd I was not
For such a business; therefore am I found 68
So much unsettled. This drives me to entreat
you
That presently you take your way for home;
And rather muse than ask why I entreat you;
For my respects are better than they seem,
And my appointments have in them a need
Greater than shows itself at the first view
To you that know them not. This to my mother.
[Giving a letter.
'Twill be two days ere I shall see you, so
I leave you to your wisdom.
Hel. Sir, I can nothing say,
But that I am your most obedient servant.
Ber. Come, come, no more of that.
Hel. And ever shall
With true observance seek to eke out that
Wherein toward me my homely stars have fail'd
To equal my great fortune.
Ber. Let that go:
My haste is very great. Farewell: hie home.
Hel. Pray sir, your pardon.
Ber. Well, what would you say?
Hel. I am not worthy of the wealth I owe,
Nor dare I say 'tis mine, and yet it is;
But, like a timorous thief, most fain would steal
What law does vouch mine own.
Ber. What would you have?
Hel. Something, and scarce so much: no-
thing, indeed.
I would not tell you what I would, my lord:—
Faith, yes;
Strangers and foes do sunder, and not kiss.
Ber. I pray you, stay not, but in haste to
horse.
Hel. I shall not break your bidding, good my
lord.
Ber. [To PAROLLES.] Where are my other
men, monsieur? [To HELENA.] Farewell.
[Exit HELENA.
Go thou toward home; where I will never come
Whilst I can shake my sword or hear the drum.
Away! and for our flight.
Par. Bravely, coragio!
[Exeunt.
< PREVIOUS
Copyright © 2000-2005 AbsoluteShakespeare.com. All rights reserved.  Contact Us  Privacy  Awards