All's Well That Ends Well By William Shakespeare Act II: Scene 1

ACT II. SCENE 1. Paris. A room in the King's palace.

[Flourish. Enter the King, with young LORDS taking leave for the
Florentine war; BERTRAM, PAROLLES, and Attendants.]

KING.
Farewell, young lord; these war-like principles
Do not throw from you: — and you, my lord, farewell; —
Share the advice betwixt you; if both gain all,
The gift doth stretch itself as 'tis received,
And is enough for both.

FIRST LORD.
It is our hope, sir,
After well-enter'd 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;
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
The bravest questant shrinks, find what you seek,
That fame may cry you aloud: I say farewell.

SECOND 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,
If they demand: beware of being captives
Before you serve.

BOTH.
Our hearts receive your warnings.

KING.
Farewell. — Come hither to me.

[The king retires to a couch.]

FIRST LORD.
O my sweet lord, that you will stay behind us!

PAROLLES.
'Tis not his fault; the spark —

SECOND LORD.
O, 'tis brave wars!

PAROLLES.
Most admirable: I have seen those wars.

BERTRAM.
I am commanded here and kept a coil with,
'Too young' and next year' and ''tis too early.'

PAROLLES.
An thy mind stand to it, boy, steal away bravely.

BERTRAM.
I shall stay here the forehorse to a smock,
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.

FIRST LORD.
There's honour in the theft.

PAROLLES.
Commit it, count.

SECOND LORD.
I am your accessary; and so farewell.

BERTRAM.
I grow to you, and our parting is a tortured body.

FIRST LORD.
Farewell, captain.

SECOND LORD.
Sweet Monsieur Parolles!

PAROLLES.
Noble heroes, my sword and yours are kin. Good sparks and
lustrous, a word, good metals. — You 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
entrenched it: say to him I live; and observe his reports for me.

FIRST LORD.
We shall, noble captain.

PAROLLES.
Mars dote on you for his novices!

[Exeunt LORDS.]

What will ye do?

BERTRAM.
Stay; the king —

PAROLLES.
Use a more spacious ceremony to the noble lords; you have
restrained yourself within the list of too 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 received star; and though the devil lead
the measure, such are to be followed: after 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 LAFEU.]

LAFEU.
Pardon, my lord [kneeling], for me and for my tidings.

KING.
I'll fee thee to stand up.

LAFEU.
Then here's a man stands that has bought 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,
And ask'd thee mercy for't.

LAFEU.
Good faith, across;
But, my good lord, 'tis thus: will you be cured
Of your infirmity?

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