All’s Well That Ends Well

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.

Scene V

Florence. Without the walls. A tucket afar off.

	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.
Diana	They say the French count has done most honourable 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.
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.
Widow	I have told my neighbour how you have been solicited by a gentleman 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 hath been seduced by them; and the misery is, example, that so terrible shows in the wreck of maidenhood, cannot for all that dissuade succession, but that they are limed with the twigs that threaten them. I hope I need not to advise you further; but I hope your own grace will keep you where you are, though there were no further danger known but the modesty which is so lost.
Diana	You shall not need to fear me.
Widow	I hope so.
	Enter Helena, disguised like a Pilgrim.
	Look, here comes a pilgrim: I know she will lie at my house; thither they send one another: I’ll question her. God save you, pilgrim! whither are you bound?
Helena	To Saint Jaques le Grand. Where do the palmers lodge, I do beseech you?
Widow	At the Saint Francis here beside the port.
Helena	Is this the way?
Widow	Ay, marry, is’t. A march afar. Hark you! they come this way. If you will tarry, holy pilgrim, But till the troops come by, I will conduct you where you shall be lodged; The rather, for I think I know your hostess As ample as myself.
Helena	Is it yourself?
Widow	If you shall please so, pilgrim.
Helena	I thank you, and will stay upon your leisure.
Widow	You came, I think, from France?
Helena	I did so.
Widow	Here you shall see a countryman of yours That has done worthy service.
Helena	His name, I pray you.
Diana	The Count Rousillon: know you such a one?
Helena	But by the ear, that hears most nobly of him: His face I know not.
Diana	Whatsome’er he is, He’s bravely taken here. He stole from France, As ’tis reported, for the king had married him Against his liking: think you it is so?
Helena	Ay, surely, mere the truth: I know his lady.
Diana	There is a gentleman that serves the count Reports but coarsely of her.
Helena	What’s his name?
Diana	Monsieur Parolles.
Helena	O, I believe with him, In argument of praise, or to the worth Of the great count himself, she is too mean To have her name repeated: all her deserving Is a reserved honesty, and that I have not heard examined.
Diana	Alas, poor lady! ’Tis a hard bondage to become the wife Of a detesting lord.
Widow	I warrant, good creature, wheresoe’er she is, Her heart weighs sadly: this young maid might do her A shrewd turn, if she pleased.
Helena	How do you mean? May be the amorous count solicits her In the unlawful purpose.
Widow	He does indeed; And brokes with all that can in such a suit Corrupt the tender honour of a maid: But she is arm’d for him and keeps her guard In honestest defence.
Mariana	The gods forbid else!
Widow	So, now they come:
	Drum and Colours.
	Enter Bertram, Parolles, and the whole army.
	That is Antonio, the duke’s eldest son; That, Escalus.
Helena	Which is the Frenchman?
Diana	He; That with the plume: ’tis a most gallant fellow. I would he loved his wife: if he were honester He were much goodlier: is’t not a handsome gentleman?
Helena	I like him well.
Diana	’Tis pity he is not honest: yond’s that same knave That leads him to these places: were I his lady, I would Poison that vile rascal.
Helena	Which is he?
Diana	That jack-an-apes with scarfs: why is he melancholy?
Helena	Perchance he’s hurt i’ the battle.
Parolles	Lose our drum! well.
Mariana	He’s shrewdly vexed at something: look, he has spied us.
Widow	Marry, hang you!
Mariana	And your courtesy, for a ring-carrier! Exeunt Bertram, Parolles, and army.
Widow	The troop is past. Come, pilgrim, I will bring you Where you shall host: of enjoin’d penitents There’s four or five, to great Saint Jaques bound, Already at my house.
Helena	I humbly thank you: Please it this matron and this gentle maid To eat with us to-night, the charge and thanking Shall be for me; and, to requite you further, I will bestow some precepts of this virgin Worthy the note.
Both	We’ll take your offer kindly. Exeunt.

Scene VI

Camp before Florence.

	Enter Bertram and the two French Lords.
Second Lord	Nay, good my lord, put him to’t; let him have his way.
First Lord	If your lordship find him not a hilding, hold me no more in your respect.
Second Lord	On my life, my lord, a bubble.
Bertram	Do you think I am so far deceived in him?
Second Lord	Believe it, my lord, in mine own direct knowledge, without any malice, but to speak of him as my kinsman, he’s a most notable coward, an infinite and endless liar, an hourly promise-breaker, the owner of no one good quality worthy your lordship’s entertainment.
First Lord	It were fit you knew him; lest, reposing too