Chapter 1

Executive Director's Notes:

In addition to the notes below, and so you will *NOT* think all the spelling errors introduced by the printers of the time have been corrected, here are the first few lines of Hamlet, as they are presented herein:

Barnardo. Who's there? Fran. Nay answer me: Stand & vnfold your selfe

Bar. Long liue the King

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As I understand it, the printers often ran out of certain words or letters they had often packed into a "cliche". . .this is the original meaning of the term cliche. . .and thus, being unwilling to unpack the cliches, and thus you will see some substitutions that look very odd. . .such as the exchanges of u for v, v for u, above. . .and you may wonder why they did it this way, presuming Shakespeare did not actually write the play in this manner. . . .

The answer is that they MAY have packed "liue" into a cliche at a time when they were out of "v"'s. . .possibly having used "vv" in place of some "w"'s, etc. This was a common practice of the day, as print was still quite expensive, and they didn't want to spend more on a wider selection of characters than they had to.

You will find a lot of these kinds of "errors" in this text, as I have mentioned in other times and places, many "scholars" have an extreme attachment to these errors, and many have accorded them a very high place in the "canon" of Shakespeare. My father read an assortment of these made available to him by Cambridge University in England for several months in a glass room constructed for the purpose. To the best of my knowledge he read ALL those available . . .in great detail. . .and determined from the various changes, that Shakespeare most likely did not write in nearly as many of a variety of errors we credit him for, even though he was in/famous for signing his name with several different spellings.

So, please take this into account when reading the comments below made by our volunteer who prepared this file: you may see errors that are "not" errors. . . .

So. . .with this caveat. . .we have NOT changed the canon errors, here is the Project Gutenberg Etext of Shakespeare's play.

Michael S. Hart Project Gutenberg Executive Director

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Scanner's Notes:

What this is and isn't. This was taken from a copy of Shakespeare's first folio and it is as close as I can come in ASCII to the printed text.

The elongated S's have been changed to small s's and the conjoined ae have been changed to ae. I have left the spelling, punctuation, capitalization as close as possible to the printed text. I have corrected some spelling mistakes (I have put together a spelling dictionary devised from the spellings of the Geneva Bible and Shakespeare's First Folio and have unified spellings according to this template), typo's and expanded abbreviations as I have come across them. Everything within brackets [] is what I have added. So if you don't like that you can delete everything within the brackets if you want a purer Shakespeare.

Another thing that you should be aware of is that there are textual differences between various copies of the first folio. So there may be differences (other than what I have mentioned above) between this and other first folio editions. This is due to the printer's habit of setting the type and running off a number of copies and then proofing the printed copy and correcting the type and then continuing the printing run. The proof run wasn't thrown away but incorporated into the printed copies. This is just the way it is. The text I have used was a composite of more than 30 different First Folio editions' best pages.

David Reed

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All's Well, that Ends Well

Actus primus. Scoena Prima.

Enter yong Bertram Count of Rossillion, his Mother, and Helena, Lord Lafew, all in blacke.

Mother. In deliuering my sonne from me, I burie a second husband

Ros. And I in going Madam, weep ore my fathers death anew; but I must attend his maiesties command, to whom I am now in Ward, euermore in subiection

Laf. You shall find of the King a husband Madame, you sir a father. He that so generally is at all times good, must of necessitie hold his vertue to you, whose worthinesse would stirre it vp where it wanted rather then lack it where there is such abundance

Mo. What hope is there of his Maiesties amendment? Laf. He hath abandon'd his Phisitions Madam, vnder whose practises he hath persecuted time with hope, and finds no other aduantage in the processe, but onely the loosing of hope by time

Mo. This yong Gentlewoman had a father, O that had, how sad a passage tis, whose skill was almost as great as his honestie, had it stretch'd so far, would haue made nature immortall, and death should haue play for lacke of worke. Would for the Kings sake hee were liuing, I thinke it would be the death of the Kings disease

Laf. How call'd you the man you speake of Madam? Mo. He was famous sir in his profession, and it was his great right to be so: Gerard de Narbon

Laf. He was excellent indeed Madam, the King very latelie spoke of him admiringly, and mourningly: hee was skilfull enough to haue liu'd stil, if knowledge could be set vp against mortallitie

Ros. What is it (my good Lord) the King languishes of? Laf. A Fistula my Lord

Ros. I heard not of it before

Laf. I would it were not notorious. Was this Gentlewoman the Daughter of Gerard de Narbon? Mo. His sole childe my Lord, and bequeathed to my ouer looking. I haue those hopes of her good, that her education promises her dispositions shee inherits, which makes faire gifts fairer: for where an vncleane mind carries vertuous qualities, there commendations go with pitty, they are vertues and traitors too: in her they are the better for their simplenesse; she deriues her honestie, and atcheeues her goodnesse

Lafew. Your commendations Madam get from her teares

Mo. 'Tis the best brine a Maiden can season her praise in. The remembrance of her father neuer approches her heart, but the tirrany of her sorrowes takes all liuelihood from her cheeke. No more of this Helena, go too, no more least it be rather thought you affect a sorrow, then to haue- Hell. I doe affect a sorrow indeed, but I haue it too

Laf. Moderate lamentation is the right of the dead, excessiue greefe the enemie to the liuing

Mo. If the liuing be enemie to the greefe, the excesse makes it soone mortall

Ros. Maddam I desire your holie wishes

Laf. How vnderstand we that? Mo. Be thou blest Bertrame, and succeed thy father In manners as in shape: thy blood and vertue Contend for Empire in thee, and thy goodnesse Share with thy birth-right. Loue all, trust a few, Doe wrong to none: be able for thine enemie Rather in power then vse: and keepe thy friend Vnder thy owne lifes key. Be checkt for silence, But neuer tax'd for speech. What heauen more wil, That thee may furnish, and my prayers plucke downe, Fall on thy head. Farwell my Lord, 'Tis an vnseason'd Courtier, good my Lord Aduise him

Laf. He cannot want the best That shall attend his loue

Mo. Heauen blesse him: Farwell Bertram

Ro. The best wishes that can be forg'd in your thoghts be seruants to you: be comfortable to my mother, your Mistris, and make much of her

Laf. Farewell prettie Lady, you must hold the credit of your father

Hell. O were that all, I thinke not on my father, And these great teares grace his remembrance more Then those I shed for him. What was he like? I haue forgott him. My imagination Carries no fauour in't but Bertrams. I am vndone, there is no liuing, none, If Bertram be away. 'Twere all one, That I should loue a bright particuler starre, And think to wed it, he is so aboue me In his bright radience and colaterall light, Must I be comforted, not in his sphere; Th' ambition in my loue thus plagues it selfe: The hind that would be mated by the Lion Must die for loue. 'Twas prettie, though a plague To see him euerie houre to sit and draw His arched browes, his hawking eie, his curles In our hearts table: heart too capeable Of euerie line and tricke of his sweet fauour. But now he's gone, and my idolatrous fancie Must sanctifie his Reliques. Who comes heere? Enter Parrolles.

One that goes with him: I loue him for his sake, And yet I know him a notorious Liar, Thinke him a great way foole, solie a coward, Yet these fixt euils sit so fit in him, That they take place, when Vertues steely bones Lookes bleake i'th cold wind: withall, full ofte we see Cold wisedome waighting on superfluous follie

Par. Saue you faire Queene

Hel. And you Monarch

Par. No

Hel. And no

Par. Are you meditating on virginitie? Hel. I: you haue some staine of souldier in you: Let mee aske you a question. Man is enemie to virginitie, how may we barracado it against him? Par. Keepe him out

Hel. But he assailes, and our virginitie though valiant, in the defence yet is weak: vnfold to vs some war-like resistance

Par. There is none: Man setting downe before you, will vndermine you, and blow you vp

Hel. Blesse our poore Virginity from vnderminers and blowers vp. Is there no Military policy how Virgins might blow vp men? Par. Virginity beeing blowne downe, Man will quicklier be blowne vp: marry in blowing him downe againe, with the breach your selues made, you lose your Citty. It is not politicke, in the Common-wealth of Nature, to preserue virginity. Losse of Virginitie, is rationall encrease, and there was neuer Virgin goe, till virginitie was first lost. That you were made of, is mettall to make Virgins. Virginitie, by beeing once lost, may be ten times found: by being euer kept, it is euer lost: 'tis too cold a companion: Away with't

Hel. I will stand for't a little, though therefore I die a Virgin

Par. There's little can bee saide in't, 'tis against the rule of Nature. To speake on the part of virginitie, is to accuse your Mothers; which is most infallible disobedience. He that hangs himselfe is a Virgin: Virginitie murthers it selfe, and should be buried in highwayes out of all sanctified limit, as a desperate Offendresse against Nature. Virginitie breedes mites, much like a Cheese, consumes it selfe to the very payring, and so dies with feeding his owne stomacke. Besides, Virginitie is peeuish, proud, ydle, made of selfe-loue, which is the most inhibited sinne in the Cannon. Keepe it not, you cannot choose but loose by't. Out with't: within ten yeare it will make it selfe two, which is a goodly increase, and the principall it selfe not much the worse. Away with't

Hel. How might one do sir, to loose it to her owne liking? Par. Let mee see. Marry ill, to like him that ne're it likes. 'Tis a commodity wil lose the glosse with lying: The longer kept, the lesse worth: Off with't while 'tis vendible. Answer the time of request, Virginitie like an olde Courtier, weares her cap out of fashion, richly suted, but vnsuteable, iust like the brooch & the tooth-pick, which were not now: your Date is better in your Pye and your Porredge, then in your cheeke: and your virginity, your old virginity, is like one of our French wither'd peares, it lookes ill, it eates drily, marry 'tis a wither'd peare: it was formerly better, marry yet 'tis a wither'd peare: Will you any thing with it? Hel. Not my virginity yet: There shall your Master haue a thousand loues, A Mother, and a Mistresse, and a friend, A Phenix, Captaine, and an enemy, A guide, a Goddesse, and a Soueraigne, A Counsellor, a Traitoresse, and a Deare: His humble ambition, proud humility: His iarring, concord: and his discord, dulcet: His faith, his sweet disaster: with a world Of pretty fond adoptious christendomes That blinking Cupid gossips. Now shall he: I know not what he shall, God send him well, The Courts a learning place, and he is one

Par. What one ifaith? Hel. That I wish well, 'tis pitty

Par. What's pitty? Hel. That wishing well had not a body in't, Which might be felt, that we the poorer borne, Whose baser starres do shut vs vp in wishes, Might with effects of them follow our friends, And shew what we alone must thinke, which neuer Returnes vs thankes. Enter Page.

Pag. Monsieur Parrolles, My Lord cals for you

Par. Little Hellen farewell, if I can remember thee, I will thinke of thee at Court

Hel. Monsieur Parolles, you were borne vnder a charitable starre

Par. Vnder Mars I

Hel. I especially thinke, vnder Mars

Par. Why vnder Mars? Hel. The warres hath so kept you vnder, that you must needes be borne vnder Mars

Par. When he was predominant

Hel. When he was retrograde I thinke rather

Par. Why thinke you so? Hel. You go so much backward when you fight

Par. That's for aduantage

Hel. So is running away, When feare proposes the safetie: But the composition that your valour and feare makes in you, is a vertue of a good wing, and I like the weare well

Paroll. I am so full of businesses, I cannot answere thee acutely: I will returne perfect Courtier, in the which my instruction shall serue to naturalize thee, so thou wilt be capeable of a Courtiers councell, and vnderstand what aduice shall thrust vppon thee, else thou diest in thine vnthankfulnes, and thine ignorance makes thee away, farewell: When thou hast leysure, say thy praiers: when thou hast none, remember thy Friends: Get thee a good husband, and vse him as he vses thee: So farewell

Hel. Our remedies oft in our selues do lye, Which we ascribe to heauen: the fated skye Giues vs free scope, onely doth backward pull Our slow designes, when we our selues are dull. What power is it, which mounts my loue so hye, That makes me see, and cannot feede mine eye? The mightiest space in fortune, Nature brings To ioyne like, likes; and kisse like natiue things. Impossible be strange attempts to those That weigh their paines in sence, and do suppose What hath beene, cannot be. Who euer stroue To shew her merit, that did misse her loue? (The Kings disease) my proiect may deceiue me, But my intents are fixt, and will not leaue me.

Exit

Flourish Cornets. Enter the King of France with Letters, and diuers Attendants.

King. The Florentines and Senoys are by th' eares, Haue fought with equall fortune, and continue A brauing warre

1.Lo.G. So tis reported sir

King. Nay tis most credible, we heere receiue it, A certaintie vouch'd from our Cosin Austria, With caution, that the Florentine will moue vs For speedie ayde: wherein our deerest friend Preiudicates the businesse, and would seeme To haue vs make deniall

1.Lo.G. His loue and wisedome Approu'd so to your Maiesty, may pleade For amplest credence

King. He hath arm'd our answer, And Florence is deni'de before he comes: Yet for our Gentlemen that meane to see The Tuscan seruice, freely haue they leaue To stand on either part

2.Lo.E. It well may serue A nursserie to our Gentrie, who are sicke For breathing, and exploit

King. What's he comes heere. Enter Bertram, Lafew, and Parolles.

1.Lor.G. It is the Count Rosignoll my good Lord, Yong Bertram

King. Youth, thou bear'st thy Fathers face, Franke Nature rather curious then in hast Hath well compos'd thee: Thy Fathers morall parts Maist thou inherit too: Welcome to Paris

Ber. My thankes and dutie are your Maiesties

Kin. I would I had that corporall soundnesse now, As when thy father, and my selfe, in friendship First tride our souldiership: he did looke farre Into the seruice of the time, and was Discipled of the brauest. He lasted long, But on vs both did haggish Age steale on, And wore vs out of act: It much repaires me To talke of your good father; in his youth He had the wit, which I can well obserue To day in our yong Lords: but they may iest Till their owne scorne returne to them vnnoted Ere they can hide their leuitie in honour: So like a Courtier, contempt nor bitternesse Were in his pride, or sharpnesse; if they were, His equall had awak'd them, and his honour Clocke to it selfe, knew the true minute when Exception bid him speake: and at this time His tongue obey'd his hand. Who were below him, He vs'd as creatures of another place, And bow'd his eminent top to their low rankes, Making them proud of his humilitie, In their poore praise he humbled: Such a man Might be a copie to these yonger times; Which followed well, would demonstrate them now But goers backward

Ber. His good remembrance sir Lies richer in your thoughts, then on his tombe: So in approofe liues not his Epitaph, As in your royall speech

King. Would I were with him he would alwaies say, (Me thinkes I heare him now) his plausiue words He scatter'd not in eares, but grafted them To grow there and to beare: Let me not liue, This his good melancholly oft began On the Catastrophe and heele of pastime When it was out: Let me not liue (quoth hee) After my flame lackes oyle, to be the snuffe Of yonger spirits, whose apprehensiue senses All but new things disdaine; whose iudgements are Meere fathers of their garments: whose constancies Expire before their fashions: this he wish'd. I after him, do after him wish too: Since I nor wax nor honie can bring home, I quickly were dissolued from my hiue To giue some Labourers roome

2.L.E. You'r loued Sir, They that least lend it you, shall lacke you first

Kin. I fill a place I know't: how long ist Count Since the Physitian at your fathers died? He was much fam'd

Ber. Some six moneths since my Lord

Kin. If he were liuing, I would try him yet. Lend me an arme: the rest haue worne me out With seuerall applications: Nature and sicknesse Debate it at their leisure. Welcome Count, My sonne's no deerer

Ber. Thanke your Maiesty.

Exit

Flourish.

Enter Countesse, Steward, and Clowne.

Coun. I will now heare, what say you of this gentlewoman

Ste. Maddam the care I haue had to euen your content, I wish might be found in the Kalender of my past endeuours, for then we wound our Modestie, and make foule the clearnesse of our deseruings, when of our selues we publish them

Coun. What doe's this knaue heere? Get you gone sirra: the complaints I haue heard of you I do not all beleeue, 'tis my slownesse that I doe not: For I know you lacke not folly to commit them, & haue abilitie enough to make such knaueries yours

Clo. 'Tis not vnknown to you Madam, I am a poore fellow

Coun. Well sir

Clo. No maddam, 'Tis not so well that I am poore, though manie of the rich are damn'd, but if I may haue your Ladiships good will to goe to the world, Isbell the woman and I will doe as we may

Coun. Wilt thou needes be a begger? Clo. I doe beg your good will in this case

Cou. In what case? Clo. In Isbels case and mine owne: seruice is no heritage, and I thinke I shall neuer haue the blessing of God, till I haue issue a my bodie: for they say barnes are blessings

Cou. Tell me thy reason why thou wilt marrie? Clo. My poore bodie Madam requires it, I am driuen on by the flesh, and hee must needes goe that the diuell driues

Cou. Is this all your worships reason? Clo. Faith Madam I haue other holie reasons, such as they are

Cou. May the world know them? Clo. I haue beene Madam a wicked creature, as you and all flesh and blood are, and indeede I doe marrie that I may repent

Cou. Thy marriage sooner then thy wickednesse

Clo. I am out a friends Madam, and I hope to haue friends for my wiues sake

Cou. Such friends are thine enemies knaue

Clo. Y'are shallow Madam in great friends, for the knaues come to doe that for me which I am a wearie of: he that eres my Land, spares my teame, and giues mee leaue to Inne the crop: if I be his cuckold hee's my drudge; he that comforts my wife, is the cherisher of my flesh and blood; hee that cherishes my flesh and blood, loues my flesh and blood; he that loues my flesh and blood is my friend: ergo, he that kisses my wife is my friend: if men could be contented to be what they are, there were no feare in marriage, for yong Charbon the Puritan, and old Poysam the Papist, how somere their hearts are seuer'd in Religion, their heads are both one, they may ioule horns together like any Deare i'th Herd

Cou. Wilt thou euer be a foule mouth'd and calumnious knaue? Clo. A Prophet I Madam, and I speake the truth the next waie, for I the Ballad will repeate, which men full true shall finde, your marriage comes by destinie, your Cuckow sings by kinde

Cou. Get you gone sir, Ile talke with you more anon

Stew. May it please you Madam, that hee bid Hellen come to you, of her I am to speake

Cou. Sirra tell my gentlewoman I would speake with her, Hellen I meane

Clo. Was this faire face the cause, quoth she, Why the Grecians sacked Troy, Fond done, done, fond was this King Priams ioy, With that she sighed as she stood,

bis

And gaue this sentence then, among nine bad if one be good, among nine bad if one be good, there's yet one good in ten

Cou. What, one good in tenne? you corrupt the song sirra

Clo. One good woman in ten Madam, which is a purifying ath' song: would God would serue the world so all the yeere, weed finde no fault with the tithe woman if I were the Parson, one in ten quoth a? and wee might haue a good woman borne but ore euerie blazing starre, or at an earthquake, 'twould mend the Lotterie well, a man may draw his heart out ere a plucke one

Cou. Youle begone sir knaue, and doe as I command you? Clo. That man should be at womans command, and yet no hurt done, though honestie be no Puritan, yet it will doe no hurt, it will weare the Surplis of humilitie ouer the blacke-Gowne of a bigge heart: I am going forsooth, the businesse is for Helen to come hither. Enter.

Cou. Well now

Stew. I know Madam you loue your Gentlewoman intirely

Cou. Faith I doe: her Father bequeath'd her to mee, and she her selfe without other aduantage, may lawfullie make title to as much loue as shee findes, there is more owing her then is paid, and more shall be paid her then sheele demand

Stew. Madam, I was verie late more neere her then I thinke shee wisht mee, alone shee was, and did communicate to her selfe her owne words to her owne eares, shee thought, I dare vowe for her, they toucht not anie stranger sence, her matter was, shee loued your Sonne; Fortune shee said was no goddesse, that had put such difference betwixt their two estates: Loue no god, that would not extend his might onelie, where qualities were leuell, Queene of Virgins, that would suffer her poore Knight surpris'd without rescue in the first assault or ransome afterward: This shee deliuer'd in the most bitter touch of sorrow that ere I heard Virgin exclaime in, which I held my dutie speedily to acquaint you withall, sithence in the losse that may happen, it concernes you something to know it

Cou. You haue discharg'd this honestlie, keepe it to your selfe, manie likelihoods inform'd mee of this before, which hung so tottring in the ballance, that I could neither beleeue nor misdoubt: praie you leaue mee, stall this in your bosome, and I thanke you for your honest care: I will speake with you further anon.

Exit Steward.

Enter Hellen.

Old.Cou. Euen so it was with me when I was yong: If euer we are natures, these are ours, this thorne Doth to our Rose of youth rightlie belong Our bloud to vs, this to our blood is borne, It is the show, and seale of natures truth, Where loues strong passion is imprest in youth, By our remembrances of daies forgon, Such were our faults, or then we thought them none, Her eie is sicke on't, I obserue her now

Hell. What is your pleasure Madam? Ol.Cou. You know Hellen I am a mother to you

Hell. Mine honorable Mistris