All’s Well That Ends Well William Shakespeare (best books for 7th graders .TXT) 📖
- Author: William Shakespeare
Book online «All’s Well That Ends Well William Shakespeare (best books for 7th graders .TXT) 📖». Author William Shakespeare
Yes, I do know him well, and common speech
Gives him a worthy pass. Here comes my clog.
I have, sir, as I was commanded from you,
Spoke with the king and have procured his leave
For present parting; only he desires
Some private speech with you.
I shall obey his will.
You must not marvel, Helen, at my course,
Which holds not colour with the time, nor does
The ministration and required office
On my particular. Prepared I was not
For such a business; therefore am I found
So much unsettled: this drives me to entreat you
That presently you take our way for home;
And rather muse than ask why I entreat you,
For my respects are better than they seem
And my appointments have in them a need
Greater than shows itself at the first view
To you that know them not. This to my mother: Giving a letter.
’Twill be two days ere I shall see you, so
I leave you to your wisdom.
Sir, I can nothing say,
But that I am your most obedient servant.
And ever shall
With true observance seek to eke out that
Wherein toward me my homely stars have fail’d
To equal my great fortune.
Let that go:
My haste is very great: farewell; hie home.
I am not worthy of the wealth I owe,
Nor dare I say ’tis mine, and yet it is;
But, like a timorous thief, most fain would steal
What law does vouch mine own.
Something; and scarce so much: nothing, indeed.
I would not tell you what I would, my lord:
Faith yes;
Strangers and foes do sunder, and not kiss.
Where are my other men, monsieur? Farewell. Exit Helena.
Go thou toward home; where I will never come
Whilst I can shake my sword or hear the drum.
Away, and for our flight.
Florence. The Duke’s palace.
Flourish. Enter the Duke of Florence attended; the two Frenchmen, with a troop of soldiers. DukeSo that from point to point now have you heard
The fundamental reasons of this war,
Whose great decision hath much blood let forth
And more thirsts after.
Holy seems the quarrel
Upon your grace’s part; black and fearful
On the opposer.
Therefore we marvel much our cousin France
Would in so just a business shut his bosom
Against our borrowing prayers.
Good my lord,
The reasons of our state I cannot yield,
But like a common and an outward man,
That the great figure of a council frames
By self-unable motion: therefore dare not
Say what I think of it, since I have found
Myself in my incertain grounds to fail
As often as I guess’d.
But I am sure the younger of our nature,
That surfeit on their ease, will day by day
Come here for physic.
Welcome shall they be;
And all the honours that can fly from us
Shall on them settle. You know your places well;
When better fall, for your avails they fell:
To-morrow to the field. Flourish. Exeunt.
Rousillon. The Count’s palace.
Enter Countess and Clown. Countess It hath happened all as I would have had it, save that he comes not along with her. Clown By my troth, I take my young lord to be a very melancholy man. Countess By what observance, I pray you? Clown Why, he will look upon his boot and sing; mend the ruff and sing; ask questions and sing; pick his teeth and sing. I know a man that had this trick of melancholy sold a goodly manor for a song. Countess Let me see what he writes, and when he means to come. Opening a letter. Clown I have no mind to Isbel since I was at court: our old ling and our Isbels o’ the country are nothing like your old ling and your Isbels o’ the court: the brains of my Cupid’s knocked out, and I begin to love, as an old man loves money, with no stomach. Countess What have we here? Clown E’en that you have there. Exit. CountessReads. I have sent you a daughter-in-law: she hath recovered the king, and undone me. I have wedded her, not bedded her; and sworn to make the “not” eternal. You shall hear I am run away: know it before the report come. If there be breadth enough in the world, I will hold a long distance. My duty to you.
Your unfortunate son,
Bertram.
This is not well, rash and unbridled boy.
To fly the favours of so good a king;
To pluck his indignation on thy head
By the misprising of a maid too virtuous
For the contempt of empire.
Think upon patience. Pray you, gentlemen,
I have felt so many quirks of joy and grief,
That the first face of neither, on the start,
Can woman me unto’t: where is my son, I pray you?
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