And, after some dispatch in hand at court,
Thither we bend again.
Madam, he's gone to serve the Duke of Florence:
we met him on his way there; for that's where we came from,
and, after delivering our messages at the court
we're going back there.
HELENA
Look on his letter, madam; here's my passport.
Reads
When thou canst get the ring upon my finger which
never shall come off, and show me a child begotten
of thy body that I am father to, then call me
husband: but in such a 'then' I write a 'never.'
This is a dreadful sentence.
Look at his letter, madam; this is my dismissal.
(reads)
When you can put a ring on my finger which
I can't take off, and show me a child from
your womb that I am the father of, then you can call me
husband: but I tell you such a thing will never happen.
This is terrible sentence.
COUNTESS
Brought you this letter, gentlemen?
Did you bring this letter, gentlemen?
First Gentleman
Ay, madam;
And for the contents' sake are sorry for our pain.
Yes, madam;
and now we hear it we're sorry we did.
COUNTESS
I prithee, lady, have a better cheer;
If thou engrossest all the griefs are thine,
Thou robb'st me of a moiety: he was my son;
But I do wash his name out of my blood,
And thou art all my child. Towards Florence is he?
Please, lady, be more cheerful;
if you take all the grief for yourself,
you will rob me of my share: he was my son;
but I disown him
and you are my only child. He's going to Florence is he?
Second Gentleman
Ay, madam.
Yes, madam.
COUNTESS
And to be a soldier?
To be a soldier?
Second Gentleman
Such is his noble purpose; and believe 't,
The duke will lay upon him all the honour
That good convenience claims.
That is his noble purpose; and I assure you
the Duke will give him all the honor
available to him.
COUNTESS
Return you thither?
Are you going back there?
First Gentleman
Ay, madam, with the swiftest wing of speed.
Yes madam, as quick as we can.
HELENA
[Reads] Till I have no wife I have nothing in France.
'Tis bitter.
[Reading] Until I have no wife there's nothing for me in France.
That's bitter.
COUNTESS
Find you that there?
Is that what it says?
HELENA
Ay, madam.
Yes, madam.
First Gentleman
'Tis but the boldness of his hand, haply, which his
heart was not consenting to.
Maybe these are just rash words, which he
didn't really mean.
COUNTESS
Nothing in France, until he have no wife!
There's nothing here that is too good for him
But only she; and she deserves a lord
That twenty such rude boys might tend upon
And call her hourly mistress. Who was with him?
There's nothing in France, until he has no wife!
The only thing here that is too good for him
is her; she deserves a lord who has
Twenty rude boys like him as servants
who would call her mistress every hour. Who was with him?
First Gentleman
A servant only, and a gentleman
Which I have sometime known.
Just a servant, and a gentleman
I have met before.
COUNTESS
Parolles, was it not?
Parolles, wasn't it?
First Gentleman
Ay, my good lady, he.
Yes, my good lady, it was him.
COUNTESS
A very tainted fellow, and full of wickedness.
My son corrupts a well-derived nature
With his inducement.
A very bad character, full of wickedness.
He has persuaded my son to go against
his good nature.
First Gentleman
Indeed, good lady,
The fellow has a deal of that too much,
Which holds him much to have.
Indeed, good lady,
the fellow has far too much
of things he shouldn't have.
COUNTESS
You're welcome, gentlemen.
I will entreat you, when you see my son,
To tell him that his sword can never win
The honour that he loses: more I'll entreat you
Written to bear along.
Gentlemen, you are welcome.
I beg you, when you see my son,
tell him that he can never win with his sword
the honour that he is losing: and what's more I'll ask
that you take a letter to him.
Second Gentleman
We serve you, madam,
In that and all your worthiest affairs.
We are at your service, madam,
in this and in all your noble business.
COUNTESS
Not so, but as we change our courtesies.
Will you draw near!
It's not the case, but your courtesy is appreciated.
Will you come with me!
Exeunt COUNTESS and Gentlemen
HELENA
'Till I have no wife, I have nothing in France.'
Nothing in France, until he has no wife!
Thou shalt have none, Rousillon, none in France;
Then hast thou all again. Poor lord! is't I
That chase thee from thy country and expose
Those tender limbs of thine to the event
Of the none-sparing war? and is it I
That drive thee from the sportive court, where thou
Wast shot at with fair eyes, to be the mark
Of smoky muskets? O you leaden messengers,
That ride upon the violent speed of fire,
Fly with false aim; move the still-peering air,
That sings with piercing; do not touch my lord.
‘Until I have no wife, there's nothing for me in France.’
Nothing in France, in till he has no wife!
You shall have none, Rousillon, none in France;
then you will get everything back. Poor lord! Is it I
who chases you from your country and exposes
those young limbs of yours to the risk
of the all consuming war? And is it I
who chases you from the jolly court, where you
were shot at with glances from fair eyes, to be the target
of smoking rifles? Oh you messengers of lead,
thatare pushed along by the violence of explosions,
be badly aimed; fly through the empty air
that sings with your noise; do not touch my lord.
Whoever shoots at him, I set him there;
Whoever charges on his forward breast,
I am the caitiff that do hold him to't;
And, though I kill him not, I am the cause
His death was so effected: better 'twere
I met the ravin lion when he roar'd
With sharp constraint of hunger; better 'twere
That all the miseries which nature owes
Were mine at once. No, come thou home, Rousillon,
Whence honour but of danger wins a scar,
As oft it loses al
l: I will be gone;
My being here it is that holds thee hence:
Shall I stay here to do't? no, no, although
The air of paradise did fan the house
And angels officed all: I will be gone,
That pitiful rumour may report my flight,
To consolate thine ear. Come, night; end, day!
For with the dark, poor thief, I'll steal away.
Exit
Whoever shoots at him, I put him there;
whoever charges towards his chest,
I am the coward that put him in the firing line; and
although I do not kill him, I will be the reason
for his death: it would be better
if I faced a raging lion, roaring
in his hunger; it would be better
if all the miseries of the world
became mine at once. No, come home, Rousillon,
from where honor may get a scar from danger,
but just as often loses everything: I will go;
my being here is all that keeps you away:
will I stay here to keep you out? No, no, not even
if this house was in paradise
with angels for servants: I will go,
so that the gossip can report my flight
and make you feel better. Come, night; end, day!
I will disappear like a poor thief in the night.
Flourish. Enter the DUKE of Florence, BERTRAM, PAROLLES, Soldiers, Drum, and Trumpets
DUKE
The general of our horse thou art; and we,
Great in our hope, lay our best love and credence
Upon thy promising fortune.
You are the leader of our cavalry; and I
have great hopes of you, and am putting my faith and belief
in your promising talents.
BERTRAM
Sir, it is
A charge too heavy for my strength, but yet
We'll strive to bear it for your worthy sake
To the extreme edge of hazard.
Sir, it is
too much responsibility for me, but still
for your worthy sake we will do our best
to the utmost extreme.
DUKE
Then go thou forth;
And fortune play upon thy prosperous helm,
As thy auspicious mistress!
Then go into battle;
and may luck shine upon your helmet,
as your happy mistress!
BERTRAM
This very day,
Great Mars, I put myself into thy file:
Make me but like my thoughts, and I shall prove
A lover of thy drum, hater of love.
Exeunt
This is the day,
great Mars, that I join your ranks:
if my actions follow my thoughts I will show myself
a lover of your drum, a hater of love.
Enter COUNTESS and Steward
COUNTESS
Alas! and would you take the letter of her? Might you not know she would do as she has done, By sending me a letter? Read it again.
Alas! Why did you accept a letter from her?
Couldn't you guess that she would do what she has done,
by sending me a letter? Read it again.
Steward
[Reads] I am Saint Jaques' pilgrim, thither gone: Ambitious love hath so in me offended, That barefoot plod I the cold ground upon, With sainted vow my faults to have amended. Write, write, that from the bloody course of war My dearest master, your dear son, may hie: Bless him at home in peace, whilst I from far His name with zealous fervor sanctify: His taken labours bid him me forgive; I, his despiteful Juno, sent him forth From courtly friends, with camping foes to live, Where death and danger dogs the heels of worth: He is too good and fair for death and me: Whom I myself embrace, to set him free.
I have gone on a pilgrimage to St James:
my ambitious love has caused such offence
that I am going to walk the cold ground barefoot,
asking the saint to correct my thoughts.
Please write to my dearest master, your dear son,
so that he will come back from the bloody war;
give him peace at home, while I from far off
will worship his name passionately:
ask him to forgive me the trouble I have caused him;
I, like a spiteful goddess, have sent him away
from his friends at court, to live with his encamped enemies,
where death and danger hunts down the noble:
he is too good and too beautiful for death and for me:
I embrace death myself, so that he can be free.
COUNTESS
Ah, what sharp stings are in her mildest words! Rinaldo, you did never lack advice so much, As letting her pass so: had I spoke with her, I could have well diverted her intents, Which thus she hath prevented.
Ah, her humble words are like daggers!
Rinaldo, you never did such an unwise thing
as letting her go like this: if I'd spoken to her
I could easily have put her off,
but with this letter she has avoided that.
Steward
Pardon me, madam: If I had given you this at over-night, She might have been o'erta'en; and yet she writes, Pursuit would be but vain.
Please excuse me, madam:
if I had woken you with this
she might have been overtaken; and yet, as she writes,
it would be pointless to chase her.
COUNTESS
What angel shall
Bless this unworthy husband? he cannot thrive,
Unless her prayers, whom heaven delights to hear
And loves to grant, reprieve him from the wrath
Of greatest justice. Write, write, Rinaldo,
To this unworthy husband of his wife;
Let every word weigh heavy of her worth
That he does weigh too light: my greatest grief.
Though little he do feel it, set down sharply.
Dispatch the most convenient messenger:
When haply he shall hear that she is gone,
He will return; and hope I may that she,
Hearing so much, will speed her foot again,
Led hither by pure love: which of them both
Is dearest to me. I have no skill in sense
To make distinction: provide this messenger:
My heart is heavy and mine age is weak;
Grief would have tears, and sorrow bids me speak.
Exeunt
What angel will
give a blessing to this unworthy husband? He cannot do well
unless her prayers, from one heaven loves to hear from
and answer, save him from the anger
of divine justice. Write, write, Rinaldo,
to this unworthy husband about his wife;
let every word show him her value
which he regards too cheaply: show my great grief.
However little he feels it, force him to.
Send the best messenger:
hopefully when he hears that she is gone
he will come back; and I hope maybe that she,
hearing that he has, will rush back here,
led by pure love: both of them
are equally dear to me. I don't have the ability
to distinguish between the two: get the messenger:
my heart is heavy and old age makes me weak;
grief wants me to cry, and sorrow makes me speak.
Enter an old Widow of Florence, DIANA, VIOLENTA, and MARIANA, with other Citizens
Widow
Nay, come; for if they do approach the city, we
shall lose all the sight.
Come on; if they come to the city, we
will miss seeing them.
DIANA
They say the French count has done most honourable service.
They say the French cou
nt has done great service.
Widow
It is reported that he has taken their greatest
commander; and that with his own hand he slew the
duke's brother.
Tucket
We have lost our labour; they are gone a contrary
way: hark! you may know by their trumpets.
It is reported that he captured their greatest
commander; and that he killed the Duke's brother
with his own hand.
(Trumpet)
We have wasted our time, they have gone round
another way: listen!You can hear their trumpets.
MARIANA
Come, let's return again, and suffice ourselves with
the report of it. Well, Diana, take heed of this
French earl: the honour of a maid is her name; and
no legacy is so rich as honesty.
Come on, let's go back, and be happy with
hearing the report. Well, Diana, make a note of this
French earl: a maid has her honor as her fame; and
honesty is greater than any inheritance.
Widow
I have told my neighbour how you have been solicited
by a gentleman his companion.
I was telling my neighbour how you have been propositioned
by a gentleman who is his companion.
MARIANA
I know that knave; hang him! one Parolles: a
filthy officer he is in those suggestions for the
young earl. Beware of them, Diana; their promises,
enticements, oaths, tokens, and all these engines of
lust, are not the things they go under: many a maid
The Complete Works of William Shakespeare In Plain and Simple English (Translated) Page 206