The Arden Shakespeare Complete Works
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No note upon my parents, his all noble.
My master, my dear lord he is; and I
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His servant live, and will his vassal die.
He must not be my brother.
COUNTESS Nor I your mother?
HELENA
You are my mother, madam; would you were –
So that my lord your son were not my brother –
Indeed my mother! or were you both our mothers
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I care no more for than I do for heaven,
So I were not his sister. Can’t no other
But, I your daughter, he must be my brother?
COUNTESS
Yes, Helen, you might be my daughter-in-law.
God shield you mean it not! daughter and mother
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So strive upon your pulse. What! pale again?
My fear hath catch’d your fondness; now I see
The myst’ry of your loneliness, and find
Your salt tears’ head. Now to all sense ’tis gross:
You love my son. Invention is asham’d
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Against the proclamation of thy passion
To say thou dost not. Therefore tell me true;
But tell me then, ’tis so; for, look, thy cheeks
Confess it t’one to th’other, and thine eyes
See it so grossly shown in thy behaviours
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That in their kind they speak it; only sin
And hellish obstinacy tie thy tongue,
That truth should be suspected. Speak, is’t so?
If it be so, you have wound a goodly clew;
If it be not, forswear’t; howe’er, I charge thee,
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As heaven shall work in me for thine avail,
To tell me truly.
HELENA Good madam, pardon me.
COUNTESS Do you love my son?
HELENA Your pardon, noble mistress.
COUNTESS Love you my son?
HELENA Do not you love him, madam?
COUNTESS Go not about; my love hath in’t a bond
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Whereof the world takes note. Come, come, disclose
The state of your affection, for your passions
Have to the full appeach’d.
HELENA Then I confess,
Here on my knee, before high heaven and you,
That before you, and next unto high heaven,
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I love your son.
My friends were poor, but honest; so’s my love.
Be not offended, for it hurts not him
That he is lov’d of me; I follow him not
By any token of presumptuous suit,
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Nor would I have him till I do deserve him;
Yet never know how that desert should be.
I know I love in vain, strive against hope;
Yet in this captious and inteemable sieve
I still pour in the waters of my love
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And lack not to lose still. Thus, Indian-like,
Religious in mine error, I adore
The sun that looks upon his worshipper
But knows of him no more. My dearest madam,
Let not your hate encounter with my love,
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For loving where you do; but if yourself,
Whose aged honour cites a virtuous youth,
Did ever, in so true a flame of liking,
Wish chastely and love dearly, that your Dian
Was both herself and love – O then, give pity
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To her whose state is such that cannot choose
But lend and give where she is sure to lose;
That seeks not to find that her search implies,
But riddle-like lives sweetly where she dies!
COUNTESS
Had you not lately an intent – speak truly –
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To go to Paris?
HELENA Madam, I had.
COUNTESS Wherefore? tell true.
HELENA I will tell truth, by grace itself I swear.
You know my father left me some prescriptions
Of rare and prov’d effects, such as his reading
And manifest experience had collected
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For general sovereignty; and that he will’d me
In heedfull’st reservation to bestow them,
As notes whose faculties inclusive were
More than they were in note. Amongst the rest
There is a remedy, approv’d, set down,
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To cure the desperate languishings whereof
The king is render’d lost.
COUNTESS This was your motive
For Paris was it? Speak.
HELENA My lord your son made me to think of this;
Else Paris and the medicine and the king
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Had from the conversation of my thoughts
Haply been absent then.
COUNTESS But think you, Helen,
If you should tender your supposed aid,
He would receive it? He and his physicians
Are of a mind; he, that they cannot help him;
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They, that they cannot help. How shall they credit
A poor unlearned virgin, when the schools,
Embowel’d of their doctrine, have left off
The danger to itself?
HELENA There’s something in’t
More than my father’s skill, which was the great’st
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Of his profession, that his good receipt
Shall for my legacy be sanctified
By th’ luckiest stars in heaven; and would your honour
But give me leave to try success, I’d venture
The well-lost life of mine on his grace’s cure
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By such a day, an hour.
COUNTESS Dost thou believe’t?
HELENA Ay, madam, knowingly.
COUNTESS
Why, Helen, thou shalt have my leave and love,
Means and attendants, and my loving greetings
To those of mine in court. I’ll stay at home
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And pray God’s blessing into thy attempt.
Be gone tomorrow; and be sure of this,
What I can help thee to, thou shalt not miss. Exeunt.
2.1 Enter the KING with divers young Lords taking leave for the Florentine war; BERTRAM and PAROLLES; attendants. Flourish cornets.
KING Farewell, young lords; these warlike principles
Do not throw from you; and you, my lords, farewell;
Share the advice betwixt you; if both gain all,
The gift doth stretch itself as ’tis receiv’d,
And is enough for both.
1 LORD ’Tis our hope, sir,
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After well-ent’red soldiers, to return
And find your grace in health.
KING No, no, it cannot be; and yet my heart
Will not confess he owes the malady
That doth my life besiege. Farewell, young lords.
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Whether I live or die, be you the sons
Of worthy Frenchmen; let Higher Italy –
Those bated that inherit but the fall
Of the last monarchy – see that you come
Not to woo honour, but to wed it, when
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The bravest questant shrinks: find what you seek,
That fame may cry you loud. I say farewell.
1 LORD Health at your bidding serve your majesty!
KING Those girls of Italy, take heed of them;
They say our French lack language to deny
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If they demand; beware of being captives
Before you serve.
BOTH LORDS Our hearts receive your warnings.
KING Farewell. [to some Lords] Come hither to me.
[Retires.]
1 LORD O my sweet lord, that you will stay behind us!
PAROLLES ’Tis not his fault, the spark.
2 LORD O, ’tis brave wars!
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PAROLLES Most admirable! I have seen those wars.
BERTRAM I am commanded here, and kept a coil with
‘Too young’, and ‘The next year’ and ‘’Tis too early’.
PAROLLES
And thy mind stand to’t, boy, steal away bravely.
BERTRAM I shall stay here the forehorse to a smock,
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Creaking my shoes on the plain masonry,
Till honour be bought up, and no sword worn
But one to dance with. By heaven, I’ll steal away!
1 LORD There’s honour in the theft.
PAROLLES Commit it, count.
2 LORD I am your accessary; and so farewell.
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BERTRAM
I grow to you, and our parting is a tortur’d body.
1 LORD Farewell, captain.
2 LORD Sweet Monsieur Parolles!
PAROLLES Noble heroes, my sword and yours are kin.
Good sparks and lustrous, a word, good metals. You
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shall find in the regiment of the Spinii one Captain
Spurio, with his cicatrice, an emblem of war, here on
his sinister cheek; it was this very sword entrench’d it.
Say to him I live, and observe his reports for me.
1 LORD We shall, noble captain. Exeunt Lords.
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PAROLLES Mars dote on you for his novices! [to
Bertram] What will ye do?
BERTRAM Stay the king.
PAROLLES Use a more spacious ceremony to the noble
lords; you have restrain’d yourself within the list of too
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cold an adieu. Be more expressive to them, for they
wear themselves in the cap of the time; there do
muster true gait, eat, speak, and move, under the
influence of the most receiv’d star; and though the
devil lead the measure, such are to be followed. After
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them, and take a more dilated farewell.
BERTRAM And I will do so.
PAROLLES Worthy fellows, and like to prove most
sinewy sword-men. Exeunt Bertram and Parolles.
Enter LAFEW. The KING comes forward.
LAFEW [kneeling]
Pardon, my lord, for me and for my tidings.
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KING I’ll fee thee to stand up.
LAFEW Then here’s a man stands that has brought his
pardon.
I would you had kneel’d, my lord, to ask me mercy,
And that at my bidding you could so stand up.
KING I would I had; so I had broke thy pate
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And ask’d thee mercy for’t.
LAFEW Good faith, across!
But, my good lord, ’tis thus: will you be cur’d
Of your infirmity?
KING No.
LAFEW O, will you eat
No grapes, my royal fox? Yes, but you will
My noble grapes, and if my royal fox
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Could reach them. I have seen a medicine
That’s able to breathe life into a stone,
Quicken a rock, and make you dance canary
With sprightly fire and motion; whose simple touch
Is powerful to araise King Pippen, nay,
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To give great Charlemain a pen in’s hand
And write to her a love-line.
KING What ‘her’ is this?
LAFEW Why, Doctor She! My lord, there’s one arriv’d,
If you will see her. Now by my faith and honour,
If seriously I may convey my thoughts
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In this my light deliverance, I have spoke
With one that in her sex, her years, profession,
Wisdom and constancy, hath amaz’d me more
Than I dare blame my weakness. Will you see her,
For that is her demand, and know her business?
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That done, laugh well at me.
KING Now, good Lafew,
Bring in the admiration that we with thee
May spend our wonder too, or take off thine
By wond’ring how thou took’st it.
LAFEW Nay, I’ll fit you,
And not be all day neither. [Lafew goes to the door.]
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KING Thus he his special nothing ever prologues.
LAFEW Nay, come your ways.
Enter HELENA.
KING This haste hath wings indeed.
LAFEW Nay, come your ways.