All's Well That Ends Well by William Shakespeare
Act 4 - Scene 5
Rousillon. The COUNT’s palace.
Lafeu : No, no, no, your son was misled with a snipt-taffeta
[p]fellow there,
whose villanous saffron would have
[p]made all the unbaked and doughy
youth of a nation in
[p]his colour: your daughter-in-law had been
alive at
[p]this hour, and your son here at home, more advanced
[p]by
the king than by that red-tailed humble-bee I speak of.
Countess : I would I had not known him; it was the death of the
[p]most virtuous
gentlewoman that ever nature had
[p]praise for creating. If she had
partaken of my
[p]flesh, and cost me the dearest groans of a mother,
I
[p]could not have owed her a more rooted love.
Lafeu : 'Twas a good lady, 'twas a good lady: we may pick a
[p]thousand salads
ere we light on such another herb.
Clown : Indeed, sir, she was the sweet marjoram of the
[p]salad, or rather,
the herb of grace.
Lafeu : They are not herbs, you knave; they are nose-herbs.
Clown : I am no great Nebuchadnezzar, sir; I have not much
[p]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
[p]great a prince as
you are.
Lafeu : Who's that? a Frenchman?
Clown : Faith, sir, a' has an English name; but his fisnomy
[p]is more hotter
in France than there.
Lafeu : What prince is that?
Clown : The black prince, sir; alias, the prince of
[p]darkness; alias, the
devil.
Lafeu : Hold thee, there's my purse: I give thee not this
[p]to suggest thee
from thy master thou talkest of;
[p]serve him still.
Clown : I am a woodland fellow, sir, that always loved a
[p]great fire; and
the master I speak of ever keeps a
[p]good fire. But, sure, he is the
prince of the
[p]world; let his nobility remain in's court. I am
for
[p]the house with the narrow gate, which I take to be
[p]too
little for pomp to enter: some that humble
[p]themselves may; but the
many will be too chill and
[p]tender, and they'll be for the flowery
way that
[p]leads to the broad gate and the great fire.
Lafeu : Go thy ways, I begin to be aweary of thee; and I
[p]tell thee so
before, because I would not fall out
[p]with thee. Go thy ways: let my
horses be well
[p]looked to, without any tricks.
Clown : If I put any tricks upon 'em, sir, they shall be
[p]jades' tricks;
which are their own right by the law of nature.
Lafeu : A shrewd knave and an unhappy.
Countess : So he is. My lord that's gone made himself much
[p]sport out of him:
by his authority he remains here,
[p]which he thinks is a patent for
his sauciness; and,
[p]indeed, he has no pace, but runs where he
will.
Lafeu : I like him well; 'tis not amiss. And I was about to
[p]tell you, since
I heard of the good lady's death and
[p]that my lord your son was upon
his return home, I
[p]moved the king my master to speak in the behalf
of
[p]my daughter; which, in the minority of them both,
[p]his
majesty, out of a self-gracious remembrance, did
[p]first propose: his
highness hath promised me to do
[p]it: and, to stop up the displeasure
he hath
[p]conceived against your son, there is no fitter
[p]matter.
How does your ladyship like it?
Countess : With very much content, my lord; and I wish it
[p]happily effected.
Lafeu : His highness comes post from Marseilles, of as able
[p]body as when he
numbered thirty: he will be here
[p]to-morrow, or I am deceived by him
that in such
[p]intelligence hath seldom failed.
Countess : It rejoices me, that I hope I shall see him ere I
[p]die. I have
letters that my son will be here
[p]to-night: I shall beseech your
lordship to remain
[p]with me till they meet together.
Lafeu : Madam, I was thinking with what manners I might
[p]safely be
admitted.
Countess : You need but plead your honourable privilege.
Lafeu : Lady, of that I have made a bold charter; but I
[p]thank my God it
holds yet.
Clown : O madam, yonder's my lord your son with a patch of
[p]velvet on's
face: whether there be a scar under't
[p]or no, the velvet knows; but
'tis a goodly patch of
[p]velvet: his left cheek is a cheek of two
pile and a
[p]half, but his right cheek is worn bare.
Lafeu : A scar nobly got, or a noble scar, is a good livery
[p]of honour; so
belike is that.
Clown : But it is your carbonadoed face.
Lafeu : Let us go see your son, I pray you: I long to talk
[p]with the young
noble soldier.
Clown : Faith there's a dozen of 'em, with delicate fine
[p]hats and most
courteous feathers, which bow the head
[p]and nod at every man.
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Next: Act 5 - Scene 1
