All's Well That Ends Well illustration

All's Well That Ends Well

William Shakespeare

Act 2, Scene 4

Original Text

Paris. The King's palace. Enter Helena and Clown.

Original Text

HELENA. My mother greets me kindly: is she well? CLOWN. She is not well, but yet she has her health; she's very merry, but yet she is not well. But thanks be given, she's very well, and wants nothing i' the world; but yet she is not well.

Original Text

HELENA. If she be very well, what does she ail that she's not very well? CLOWN. Truly, she's very well indeed, but for two things. HELENA. What two things?

Original Text

CLOWN. One, that she's not in heaven, whither God send her quickly! The other, that she's in earth, from whence God send her quickly!

Original Text

Enter Parolles. PAROLLES. Bless you, my fortunate lady! HELENA. I hope, sir, I have your good will to have mine own good fortune.

Original Text

PAROLLES. You had my prayers to lead them on; and to keep them on, have them still. O, my knave how does my old lady? CLOWN. So that you had her wrinkles and I her money, I would she did as you say. PAROLLES. Why, I say nothing.

Original Text

CLOWN. Marry, you are the wiser man; for many a man's tongue shakes out his master's undoing. To say nothing, to do nothing, to know nothing, and to have nothing, is to be a great part of your title; which is within a very little of nothing. PAROLLES. Away! Thou art a knave.

Original Text

CLOWN. You should have said, sir, before a knave thou art a knave; that is before me thou art a knave. This had been truth, sir. PAROLLES. Go to, thou art a witty fool; I have found thee. CLOWN. Did you find me in yourself, sir? or were you taught to find me? The search, sir, was profitable; and much fool may you find in you, even to the world's pleasure and the increase of laughter.

Original Text

PAROLLES. A good knave, i' faith, and well fed. Madam, my lord will go away tonight; A very serious business calls on him. The great prerogative and right of love, Which, as your due, time claims, he does acknowledge; But puts it off to a compell'd restraint; Whose want, and whose delay, is strew'd with sweets; Which they distil now in the curbed time, To make the coming hour o'erflow with joy And pleasure drown the brim.

Original Text

HELENA. What's his will else? PAROLLES. That you will take your instant leave o' the king, And make this haste as your own good proceeding, Strengthen'd with what apology you think May make it probable need.

Original Text

HELENA. What more commands he? PAROLLES. That, having this obtain'd, you presently Attend his further pleasure. HELENA. In everything I wait upon his will. PAROLLES. I shall report it so. HELENA. I pray you. Come, sirrah. [_Exeunt._]

Act 2, Scene 4