has a knot on 't yet.

PAROLLES. Who cannot be crush'd with a plot?

FIRST SOLDIER. If you could find out a country where but women were

that had received so much shame, you might begin an impudent 

nation. Fare ye well, sir; I am for France too; we shall speak of

you there. Exit with SOLDIERS

PAROLLES. Yet am I thankful. If my heart were great,

'Twould burst at this. Captain I'll be no more;

But I will eat, and drink, and sleep as soft

As captain shall. Simply the thing I am

Shall make me live. Who knows himself a braggart,

Let him fear this; for it will come to pass

That every braggart shall be found an ass.

Rust, sword; cool, blushes; and, Parolles, live

Safest in shame. Being fool'd, by fool'ry thrive.

There's place and means for every man alive.

I'll after them. Exit

HELENA. That you may well perceive I have not wrong'd you!

One of the greatest in the Christian world

Shall be my surety; fore whose throne 'tis needful,

Ere I can perfect mine intents, to kneel.

Time was I did him a desired office,

Dear almost as his life; which gratitude

Through flinty Tartar's bosom would peep forth,

And answer 'Thanks.' I duly am inform'd

His Grace is at Marseilles, to which place

We have convenient convoy. You must know

I am supposed dead. The army breaking,

My husband hies him home; where, heaven aiding,

And by the leave of my good lord the King,

We'll be before our welcome.

WIDOW. Gentle madam,

You never had a servant to whose trust

Your business was more welcome. 

HELENA. Nor you, mistress,

Ever a friend whose thoughts more truly labour

To recompense your love. Doubt not but heaven

Hath brought me up to be your daughter's dower,

As it hath fated her to be my motive

And helper to a husband. But, O strange men!

That can such sweet use make of what they hate,

When saucy trusting of the cozen'd thoughts

Defiles the pitchy night. So lust doth play

With what it loathes, for that which is away.

But more of this hereafter. You, Diana,

Under my poor instructions yet must suffer

Something in my behalf.

DIANA. Let death and honesty

Go with your impositions, I am yours

Upon your will to suffer.

HELENA. Yet, I pray you:

But with the word the time will bring on summer,

When briers shall have leaves as well as thorns

And be as sweet as sharp. We must away; 

Our waggon is prepar'd, and time revives us.

All's Well that Ends Well. Still the fine's the crown.

Whate'er the course, the end is the renown. Exeunt

LAFEU. No, no, no, son was misled with a snipt-taffeta fellow

there, whose villainous saffron would have made all the unbak'd

and doughy youth of a nation in his colour. Your daughter-in-law

had been alive at this hour, and your son here at home, more

advanc'd by the King than by that red-tail'd humble-bee I speak

of.

COUNTESS. I would I had not known him. It was the death of the most

virtuous gentlewoman that ever nature had praise for creating. If

she had partaken of my flesh, and cost me the dearest groans of a

mother. I could not have owed her a more rooted love.

LAFEU. 'Twas a good lady, 'twas a good lady. We may pick a thousand

sallets ere we light on such another herb.

CLOWN. Indeed, sir, she was the sweet-marjoram of the sallet, or,

rather, the herb of grace.

LAFEU. They are not sallet-herbs, you knave; they are nose-herbs.

CLOWN. I am no great Nebuchadnezzar, sir; I have not much skill in

grass. 

LAFEU. Whether dost thou profess thyself-a knave or a fool?

CLOWN. A fool, sir, at a woman's service, and a knave at a man's.

LAFEU. Your distinction?

CLOWN. I would cozen the man of his wife, and do his service.

LAFEU. So you were a knave at his service, indeed.

CLOWN. And I would give his wife my bauble, sir, to do her service.

LAFEU. I will subscribe for thee; thou art both knave and fool.

CLOWN. At your service.

LAFEU. No, no, no.

CLOWN. Why, sir, if I cannot serve you, I can serve as great a

prince as you are.

LAFEU. Who's that? A Frenchman?

CLOWN. Faith, sir, 'a has an English name; but his fisnomy is more

hotter in France than there.

LAFEU. What prince is that?

CLOWN. The Black Prince, sir; alias, the Prince of Darkness; alias,

the devil.

LAFEU. Hold thee, there's my purse. I give thee not this to suggest

thee from thy master thou talk'st of; serve him still.

CLOWN. I am a woodland fellow, sir, that always loved a great fire; 

and the master I speak of ever keeps a good fire. But, sure, he

is the prince of the world; let his nobility remain in's court. I

am for the house with the narrow gate, which I take to be too

little for pomp to enter. Some that humble themselves may; but

the many will be too chill and tender: and they'll be for the

flow'ry way that leads to the broad gate and the great fire.

LAFEU. Go thy ways, I begin to be aweary of thee; and I tell thee

so before, because I would not fall out with thee. Go thy ways;

let my horses be well look'd to, without any tricks.

CLOWN. If I put any tricks upon 'em, sir, they shall be jades'

tricks, which are their own right by the law of nature.

Exit

LAFEU. A shrewd knave, and an unhappy.

COUNTESS. So 'a is. My lord that's gone made himself much sport

out of him. By his authority he remains here, which he thinks is

a patent for his sauciness; and indeed he has no pace, but runs

where he will.

LAFEU. I like him well; 'tis not amiss. And I was about to tell

you, since I heard of the good lady's death, and that my lord

your son was upon his return home, I moved the King my master to 

speak in the behalf of my daughter; which, in the minority of

them both, his Majesty out of a self-gracious remembrance did

first propose. His Highness hath promis'd me to do it; and, to

stop up the displeasure he hath conceived against your son, there

is no fitter matter. How does your ladyship like it?

COUNTESS. With very much content, my lord; and I wish it happily

effected.

LAFEU. His Highness comes post from Marseilles, of as able body as

when he number'd thirty; 'a will be here to-morrow, or I am

deceiv'd by him that in such intelligence hath seldom fail'd.

COUNTESS. It rejoices me that I hope I shall see him ere I die.

I have letters that my son will be here to-night. I shall beseech

your lordship to remain with me tal they meet together.

LAFEU. Madam, I was thinking with what manners I might safely be

admitted.

COUNTESS. You need but plead your honourable privilege.

LAFEU. Lady, of that I have made a bold charter; but, I thank my

God, it holds yet.

Re-enter CLOWN 

CLOWN. O madam, yonder's my lord your son with a patch of velvet

on's face; whether there be a scar under 't or no, the velvet

knows; but 'tis a goodly patch of velvet. His left cheek is a

cheek of two pile and a half, but his right cheek is worn bare.

LAFEU. A scar nobly got, or a noble scar, is a good liv'ry of

honour; so belike is that.

CLOWN. But it is your carbonado'd face.

LAFEU. Let us go see your son, I pray you;