The Countess speaks with the authority of someone who has earned the right to say hard things gently. She gives advice in aphorisms ('Love all, trust a few, do wrong to none') and observes more than she lets on — watch for the gap between what she says and what she already knows.
In delivering my son from me, I bury a second husband.
In delivering my son from me, I bury a second husband.
in delivering my son from me, i bury a second husband.
In delivering my son from me, I bury a second husband.
Bertram speaks in short bursts — he's not a talker. His silence often conceals resistance; when he does speak, it tends to be complaint or capitulation. Watch for the moments when he says the least and means the most.
And I in going, madam, weep o’er my father’s death anew; but I must
attend his majesty’s command, to whom I am now in ward, evermore in
subjection.
And I in going, madam, weep o’er my father’s death anew; but I must attend his majesty’s command, to whom I am now in ward, evermore in subjection.
and i in going, madam, weep o’er my father’s death anew; but i must attend h's majesty’s command, to whom i am now in ward, evermore in subjection.
And I in going, madam, weep o’er my father’s death anew; but...
Lafew is the play's most reliable judge of character — he sizes people up correctly and immediately, and he says so whether it's welcome or not. Watch for the moments when he is the only person in a scene who is telling the truth.
You shall find of the king a husband, madam; you, sir, a father. He
that so generally is at all times good, must of necessity hold his
virtue to you, whose worthiness would stir it up where it wanted,
rather than lack it where there is such abundance.
You shall find of the king a husband, madam; you, sir, a father. He that so generally is at all times good, must of necessity hold his virtue to you, whose worthiness would stir it up where it wanted, rather than lack it where there is such abundance.
you shall find of the king a husband, madam; you, sir, a father. he that so generally 's at all times good, must of necessity hold h's virtue to you, whose worthiness would stir it up where it wanted, rather than lack it where there 's such abundance.
You shall find of the king a husband, madam; you, sir, a...
What hope is there of his majesty’s amendment?
What hope is there of his majesty’s amendment?
what hope 's there of h's majesty’s amendment?
What hope is there of his majesty’s amendment?
He hath abandon’d his physicians, madam; under whose practices he hath
persecuted time with hope, and finds no other advantage in the process
but only the losing of hope by time.
He has abandon’d his physicians, madam; under whose practices he has persecuted time with hope, and finds no other advantage in the process but only the losing of hope by time.
he has abandon’d h's physicians, madam; under whose practices he has persecuted time with hope, and finds no other advantage in the process but only the losing of hope by time.
He has abandon’d his physicians, madam; under whose practices he has persecuted...
This young gentlewoman had a father—O that “had!”, how sad a passage
’tis!—whose skill was almost as great as his honesty; had it stretch’d
so far, would have made nature immortal, and death should have play for
lack of work. Would for the king’s sake he were living! I think it
would be the death of the king’s disease.
This young gentlewoman had a father—O that “had!”, how sad a passage ’is!—whose skill was almost as great as his honesty; had it stretch’d so far, would have made nature immortal, and death should have play for lack of work. Would for the king’s sake he were living! I think it would be the death of the king’s disease.
th's young gentlewoman had a father—o that “had!”, how sad a passage ’is!—whose skill was almost as great as h's honesty; had it stretch’d so far, would 've made nature immortal, and death should 've play for lack of work. would for the king’s sake he were living! i think it would be the death of the king’s disease.
This young gentlewoman had a father—O that “had!”, how sad a passage...
How called you the man you speak of, madam?
How called you the man you speak of, madam?
how called you the man you speak of, madam?
How called you the man you speak of, madam?
He was famous, sir, in his profession, and it was his great right to be
so: Gerard de Narbon.
He was famous, sir, in his profession, and it was his great right to be so: Gerard de Narbon.
he was famous, sir, in h's profession, and it was h's great right to be so: gerard de narbon.
He was famous, sir, in his profession, and it was his great...
He was excellent indeed, madam; the king very lately spoke of him
admiringly, and mourningly; he was skilful enough to have liv’d still,
if knowledge could be set up against mortality.
He was excellent indeed, madam; the king very lately spoke of him admiringly, and mourningly; he was skilful enough to have liv’d still, if knowledge could be set up against mortality.
he was excellent indeed, madam; the king very lately spoke of him admiringly, and mourningly; he was skilful enough to 've liv’d still, if knowledge could be set up against mortality.
He was excellent indeed, madam; the king very lately spoke of him...
What is it, my good lord, the king languishes of?
What is it, my good lord, the king languishes of?
what 's it, my good lord, the king languishes of?
What is it, my good lord, the king languishes of?
A fistula, my lord.
A fistula, my lord.
a fistula, my lord.
A fistula, my lord.
I heard not of it before.
I heard not of it before.
i heard not of it before.
I heard not of it before.
I would it were not notorious. Was this gentlewoman the daughter of
Gerard de Narbon?
I would it were not notorious. Was this gentlewoman the daughter of Gerard de Narbon?
i would it were not notorious. was th's gentlewoman the daughter of gerard de narbon?
I would it were not notorious. Was this gentlewoman the daughter of...
His sole child, my lord, and bequeathed to my overlooking. I have those
hopes of her good that her education promises her dispositions she
inherits, which makes fair gifts fairer; for where an unclean mind
carries virtuous qualities, there commendations go with pity, they are
virtues and traitors too. In her they are the better for their
simpleness; she derives her honesty, and achieves her goodness.
His sole child, my lord, and bequeathed to my overlooking. I have those hopes of her good that her education promises her dispositions she inherits, which makes fair gifts fairer; for where an unclean mind carries virtuous qualities, there commendations go with pity, they are virtues and traitors too. In her they are the better for their simpleness; she derives her honesty, and achieves her goodness.
h's sole child, my lord, and bequeathed to my overlooking. i 've those hopes of her good that her education promises her dispositions she inherits, which makes fair gifts fairer; for where an unclean mind carries virtuous qualities, there commendations go with pity, they 're virtues and traitors too. in her they 're the better for their simpleness; she derives her honesty, and achieves her goodness.
His sole child, my lord, and bequeathed to my overlooking. I have...
When Bertram says he is 'in ward, evermore in subjection,' he is describing a real Elizabethan legal institution that Shakespeare's audience would have recognized immediately. When a nobleman died leaving a minor child, that child became a ward of the crown. The king — or more often a court official who purchased the wardship — controlled the ward's lands, received income from the estate, and had the right to arrange the ward's marriage. Refusing an arranged marriage meant forfeiting a substantial financial penalty. This isn't just context: it's the entire engine of the main plot. The king gives Helena a husband as her reward for curing him — and Bertram cannot legally refuse without consequences. His rebellion is real, but so is his powerlessness. The play explores what happens when the law and the heart point in opposite directions.
Your commendations, madam, get from her tears.
Your commendations, madam, get from her tears.
your commendations, madam, get from her tears.
Your commendations, madam, get from her tears.
’Tis the best brine a maiden can season her praise in. The remembrance
of her father never approaches her heart but the tyranny of her sorrows
takes all livelihood from her cheek. No more of this, Helena; go to, no
more, lest it be rather thought you affect a sorrow than to have.
’is the best brine a maiden can season her praise in. The remembrance of her father never approaches her heart but the tyranny of her sorrows takes all livelihood from her cheek. No more of this, Helena; go to, no more, lest it be rather thought you affect a sorrow than to have.
’t's the best brine a maiden can season her praise in. the remembrance of her father never approaches her heart but the tyranny of her sorrows takes all livelihood from her cheek. no more of this, helena; go to, no more, lest it be rather thought you affect a sorrow than to have.
’is the best brine a maiden can season her praise in. The...
Helena speaks differently in company versus alone — in company she deflects and is modest; in soliloquy she is fierce, precise, and completely sure of herself. Watch for the shift between these two registers as the play unfolds.
I do affect a sorrow indeed, but I have it too.
I do affect a sorrow indeed, but I have it too.
i do affect a sorrow indeed, but i 've it too.
I do affect a sorrow indeed, but I have it too.
Moderate lamentation is the right of the dead; excessive grief the
enemy to the living.
Moderate lamentation is the right of the dead; excessive grief the enemy to the living.
moderate lamentation 's the right of the dead; excessive grief the enemy to the living.
Moderate lamentation is the right of the dead; excessive grief the enemy...
If the living be enemy to the grief, the excess makes it soon mortal.
If the living be enemy to the grief, the excess makes it soon mortal.
if the living be enemy to the grief, the excess makes it soon mortal.
If the living be enemy to the grief, the excess makes it...
Madam, I desire your holy wishes.
Madam, I desire your holy wishes.
madam, i desire your holy wishes.
Madam, I desire your holy wishes.
How understand we that?
How understand we that?
how understand we that?
How understand we that?
Be thou blest, Bertram, and succeed thy father
In manners, as in shape! Thy blood and virtue
Contend for empire in thee, and thy goodness
Share with thy birthright! Love all, trust a few,
Do wrong to none. Be able for thine enemy
Rather in power than use; and keep thy friend
Under thy own life’s key. Be check’d for silence,
But never tax’d for speech. What heaven more will,
That thee may furnish and my prayers pluck down,
Fall on thy head! Farewell. My lord,
’Tis an unseason’d courtier; good my lord,
Advise him.
Be you blest, Bertram, and succeed your father In manners, as in shape! your blood and virtue Contend for empire in you, and your goodness Share with your birthright! Love all, trust a few, Do wrong to none. Be able for yours enemy Rather in power than use; and keep your friend Under your own life’s key. Be check’d for silence, But never tax’d for speech. What heaven more will, That you may furnish and my prayers pluck down, Fall on your head! Farewell. My lord, ’is an unseason’d courtier; good my lord, Advise him.
be you blest, bertram, and succeed your father in manners, as in shape! your blood and virtue contend for empire in you, and your goodness sh're with your birthright! love all, trust a few, do wrong to none. be able for yours enemy rather in power than use; and keep your friend under your own life’s key. be check’d for silence, but never tax’d for speech. what heaven more will, that you may furnish and my prayers pluck down, fall on your head! farewell. my lord, ’t's an unseason’d courtier; good my lord, advise him.
Be you blest, Bertram, and succeed your father In manners, as in...
He cannot want the best
That shall attend his love.
He cannot want the best That shall attend his love.
he cannot want the best that shall attend h's love.
He cannot want the best That shall attend his love.
Heaven bless him! Farewell, Bertram.
Heaven bless him! Farewell, Bertram.
heaven bless him! farewell, bertram.
Heaven bless him! Farewell, Bertram.
The best wishes that can be forg’d in your thoughts be servants to you!
The best wishes that can be forg’d in your thoughts be servants to you!
the best wishes that can be forg’d in your thoughts be servants to you!
The best wishes that can be forg’d in your thoughts be servants...
Farewell, pretty lady, you must hold the credit of your father.
Farewell, pretty lady, you must hold the credit of your father.
farewell, pretty lady, you must hold the credit of your father.
Farewell, pretty lady, you must hold the credit of your father.
Helena's closing soliloquy — 'Our remedies oft in ourselves do lie / Which we ascribe to heaven' — is one of the most quietly radical statements in Shakespeare. The Elizabethan worldview was deeply providentialist: what happens is God's will, fate is written in the stars, your birth determines your life. Helena is explicitly rejecting this. She argues that 'the fated sky gives us free scope' — that destiny provides the space to act, and only withholds when we withhold ourselves. She is not an atheist; she still invokes grace and heaven throughout the play. But she is arguing for human agency within a divinely ordered world. This tension — between what is given and what is made — is the play's deepest theme. And it is Helena, the low-born woman, who claims the most active role.
O, were that all! I think not on my father,
And these great tears grace his remembrance more
Than those I shed for him. What was he like?
I have forgot him; my imagination
Carries no favour in’t but Bertram’s.
I am undone: there is no living, none,
If Bertram be away. ’Twere all one
That I should love a bright particular star,
And think to wed it, he is so above me.
In his bright radiance and collateral light
Must I be comforted, not in his sphere.
Th’ambition in my love thus plagues itself:
The hind that would be mated by the lion
Must die for love. ’Twas pretty, though a plague,
To see him every hour; to sit and draw
His arched brows, his hawking eye, his curls,
In our heart’s table,—heart too capable
Of every line and trick of his sweet favour.
But now he’s gone, and my idolatrous fancy
Must sanctify his relics. Who comes here?
O, were that all! I think not on my father, And these great tears grace his remembrance more Than those I shed for him. What was he like? I have forgot him; my imagination Carries no favour in’t but Bertram’s. I am undone: there is no living, none, If Bertram be away. ’Twere all one That I should love a bright particular star, And think to wed it, he is so above me. In his bright radiance and collateral light Must I be comforted, not in his sphere. Th’ambition in my love thus plagues itself: The hind that would be mated by the lion Must die for love. ’Twas pretty, though a plague, To see him every hour; to sit and draw His arched brows, his hawking eye, his curls, In our heart’s table,—heart too capable Of every line and trick of his sweet favour. But now he’s gone, and my idolatrous fancy Must sanctify his relics. Who comes here?
o, were that all! i think not on my father, and these great tears grace h's remembrance more than those i shed for him. what was he like? i 've forgot him; my imagination carries no favour in’t but bertram’s. i am undone: there 's no living, none, if bertram be away. ’twere all one that i should love a bright particular star, and think to wed it, he 's so above me. in h's bright radiance and collateral light must i be comforted, not in h's sphere. th’ambition in my love thus plagues itself: the hind that would be mated by the lion must die for love. ’twas pretty, though a plague, to see him every hour; to sit and draw h's arched brows, h's hawking eye, h's curls, in our heart’s table,—heart too capable of every line and trick of h's sweet favour. but now he’s gone, and my idolatrous fancy must sanctify h's relics. who comes here?
O, were that all! I think not on my father, And these...
Parolles speaks in elaborate, blusterous performance — he name-drops, brags, and fills space with the noise of competence. His speeches often have one grain of truth buried in them. Watch for how easily he caves when anyone pushes back.
Save you, fair queen!
Save you, fair queen!
save you, fair queen!
Save you, fair queen!
And you, monarch!
And you, monarch!
and you, monarch!
And you, monarch!
No.
No.
no.
No.
And no.
And no.
and no.
And no.
Are you meditating on virginity?
Are you meditating on virginity?
're you meditating on virginity?
Are you meditating on virginity?
Ay. You have some stain of soldier in you; let me ask you a question.
Man is enemy to virginity; how may we barricado it against him?
Ay. You have some stain of soldier in you; let me ask you a question. Man is enemy to virginity; how may we barricado it against him?
ay. you 've some stain of soldier in you; let me ask you a question. man 's enemy to virginity; how may we barricado it against him?
Ay. You have some stain of soldier in you; let me ask...
Keep him out.
Keep him out.
keep him out.
Keep him out.
The extended conversation about virginity between Helena and Parolles is often played as broad comedy — two people enjoying a bawdy game. But it's also doing something precise. Helena is using Parolles's own terms to extract the one piece of information she needs: how does a woman lose her virginity on her own terms? Parolles, who doesn't take her seriously, answers flippantly ('Let me see. Marry, ill, to like him that ne'er it likes'). But Helena is already thinking tactically. The scene tells us two things: Helena is smarter than everyone around her, and she is willing to use people's condescension as cover. Watch for this pattern throughout the play — she operates most effectively when people are underestimating her.
But he assails; and our virginity, though valiant, in the defence, yet
is weak. Unfold to us some warlike resistance.
But he assails; and our virginity, though valiant, in the defence, yet is weak. Unfold to us some warlike resistance.
but he assails; and our virginity, though valiant, in the defence, yet 's weak. unfold to us some warlike resistance.
But he assails; and our virginity, though valiant, in the defence, yet...
There is none. Man setting down before you will undermine you and blow
you up.
There is none. Man setting down before you will undermine you and blow you up.
there 's none. man setting down before you will undermine you and blow you up.
There is none. Man setting down before you will undermine you and...
Bless our poor virginity from underminers and blowers-up! Is there no
military policy how virgins might blow up men?
Bless our poor virginity from underminers and blowers-up! Is there no military policy how virgins might blow up men?
bless our poor virginity from underminers and blowers-up! 's there no military policy how virgins might blow up men?
Bless our poor virginity from underminers and blowers-up! Is there no military...
Virginity being blown down, man will quicklier be blown up; marry, in
blowing him down again, with the breach yourselves made, you lose your
city. It is not politic in the commonwealth of nature to preserve
virginity. Loss of virginity is rational increase, and there was never
virgin got till virginity was first lost. That you were made of is
metal to make virgins. Virginity, by being once lost, may be ten times
found; by being ever kept, it is ever lost. ’Tis too cold a companion.
Away with it!
Virginity being blown down, man will quicklier be blown up; marry, in blowing him down again, with the breach yourselves made, you lose your city. It is not politic in the commonwealth of nature to preserve virginity. Loss of virginity is rational increase, and there was never virgin got till virginity was first lost. That you were made of is metal to make virgins. Virginity, by being once lost, may be ten times found; by being ever kept, it is ever lost. ’is too cold a companion. Away with it!
virginity being blown down, man will quicklier be blown up; marry, in blowing him down again, with the breach yourselves made, you lose your city. it 's not politic in the commonwealth of nature to preserve virginity. loss of virginity 's rational increase, and there was never virgin got till virginity was first lost. that you were made of 's metal to make virgins. virginity, by being once lost, may be ten times found; by being ever kept, it 's ever lost. ’t's too cold a companion. away with it!
Virginity being blown down, man will quicklier be blown up; marry, in...
I will stand for’t a little, though therefore I die a virgin.
I will stand for’t a little, though therefore I die a virgin.
i will stand for’t a little, though therefore i die a virgin.
I will stand for’t a little, though therefore I die a virgin.
There’s little can be said in’t; ’tis against the rule of nature. To
speak on the part of virginity is to accuse your mothers; which is most
infallible disobedience. He that hangs himself is a virgin: virginity
murders itself, and should be buried in highways out of all sanctified
limit, as a desperate offendress against nature. Virginity breeds
mites, much like a cheese; consumes itself to the very paring, and so
dies with feeding his own stomach. Besides, virginity is peevish,
proud, idle, made of self-love, which is the most inhibited sin in the
canon. Keep it not; you cannot choose but lose by’t. Out with’t! Within
the year it will make itself two, which is a goodly increase, and the
principal itself not much the worse. Away with it!
There’s little can be said in’t; ’is against the rule of nature. To speak on the part of virginity is to accuse your mothers; which is most infallible disobedience. He that hangs himself is a virgin: virginity murders itself, and should be buried in highways out of all sanctified limit, as a desperate offendress against nature. Virginity breeds mites, much like a cheese; consumes itself to the very paring, and so dies with feeding his own stomach. Besides, virginity is peevish, proud, idle, made of self-love, which is the most inhibited sin in the canon. Keep it not; you cannot choose but lose by’t. Out with’t! Within the year it will make itself two, which is a goodly increase, and the principal itself not much the worse. Away with it!
there’s little can be said in’t; ’t's against the rule of nature. to speak on the part of virginity 's to accuse your mothers; which 's most infallible disobedience. he that hangs himself 's a virgin: virginity murders itself, and should be buried in highways out of all sanctified limit, as a desperate offendress against nature. virginity breeds mites, much like a cheese; consumes itself to the very paring, and so dies with feeding h's own stomach. besides, virginity 's peevish, proud, idle, made of self-love, which 's the most inhibited sin in the canon. keep it not; you cannot choose but lose by’t. out with’t! within the year it will make itself two, which 's a goodly increase, and the principal itself not much the worse. away with it!
There’s little can be said in’t; ’is against the rule of nature....
How might one do, sir, to lose it to her own liking?
How might one do, sir, to lose it to her own liking?
how might one do, sir, to lose it to her own liking?
How might one do, sir, to lose it to her own liking?
Let me see. Marry, ill, to like him that ne’er it likes. ’Tis a
commodity will lose the gloss with lying; the longer kept, the less
worth. Off with’t while ’tis vendible; answer the time of request.
Virginity, like an old courtier, wears her cap out of fashion, richly
suited, but unsuitable, just like the brooch and the toothpick, which
wear not now. Your date is better in your pie and your porridge than in
your cheek. And your virginity, your old virginity, is like one of our
French wither’d pears; it looks ill, it eats drily; marry, ’tis a
wither’d pear; it was formerly better; marry, yet ’tis a wither’d pear.
Will you anything with it?
Let me see. Marry, ill, to like him that ne’er it likes. ’is a commodity will lose the gloss with lying; the longer kept, the less worth. Off with’t while ’is vendible; answer the time of request. Virginity, like an old courtier, wears her cap out of fashion, richly suited, but unsuitable, just like the brooch and the toothpick, which wear not now. Your date is better in your pie and your porridge than in your cheek. And your virginity, your old virginity, is like one of our French wither’d pears; it looks ill, it eats drily; marry, ’is a wither’d pear; it was formerly better; marry, yet ’is a wither’d pear. Will you anything with it?
let me see. marry, ill, to like him that ne’er it likes. ’t's a commodity will lose the gloss with lying; the longer kept, the less worth. off with’t while ’t's vendible; answer the time of request. virginity, like an old courtier, wears her cap out of fashion, richly suited, but unsuitable, just like the brooch and the toothpick, which wear not now. your date 's better in your pie and your porridge than in your cheek. and your virginity, your old virginity, 's like one of our french wither’d pears; it looks ill, it eats drily; marry, ’t's a wither’d pear; it was formerly better; marry, yet ’t's a wither’d pear. will you anything with it?
Let me see. Marry, ill, to like him that ne’er it likes....
Not my virginity yet.
There shall your master have a thousand loves,
A mother, and a mistress, and a friend,
A phoenix, captain, and an enemy,
A guide, a goddess, and a sovereign,
A counsellor, a traitress, and a dear:
His humble ambition, proud humility,
His jarring concord, and his discord dulcet,
His faith, his sweet disaster; with a world
Of pretty, fond, adoptious christendoms
That blinking Cupid gossips. Now shall he—
I know not what he shall. God send him well!
The court’s a learning-place; and he is one.
Not my virginity yet. There shall your master have a thousand loves, A mother, and a mistress, and a friend, A phoenix, captain, and an enemy, A guide, a goddess, and a sovereign, A counsellor, a traitress, and a dear: His humble ambition, proud humility, His jarring concord, and his discord dulcet, His faith, his sweet disaster; with a world Of pretty, fond, adoptious christendoms That blinking Cupid gossips. Now shall he— I know not what he shall. God send him well! The court’s a learning-place; and he is one.
not my virginity yet. there shall your master 've a thousand loves, a mother, and a mistress, and a friend, a phoenix, captain, and an enemy, a guide, a goddess, and a sovereign, a counsellor, a traitress, and a dear: h's humble ambition, proud humility, h's jarring concord, and h's discord dulcet, h's faith, h's sweet disaster; with a world of pretty, fond, adoptious christendoms that blinking cupid gossips. now shall he— i know not what he shall. god send him well! the court’s a learning-place; and he 's one.
Not my virginity yet. There shall your master have a thousand loves,...
What one, i’ faith?
What one, i’ faith?
what one, i’ faith?
What one, i’ faith?
That I wish well. ’Tis pity—
That I wish well. ’is pity—
that i wish well. ’t's pity—
That I wish well. ’is pity—
What’s pity?
What’s pity?
what’s pity?
What’s pity?
That wishing well had not a body in’t
Which might be felt, that we, the poorer born,
Whose baser stars do shut us up in wishes,
Might with effects of them follow our friends,
And show what we alone must think, which never
Returns us thanks.
That wishing well had not a body in’t Which might be felt, that we, the poorer born, Whose baser stars do shut us up in wishes, Might with effects of them follow our friends, And show what we alone must think, which never Returns us thanks.
that wishing well had not a body in’t which might be felt, that we, the poorer born, whose baser stars do shut us up in wishes, might with effects of them follow our friends, and show what we alone must think, which never returns us thanks.
That wishing well had not a body in’t Which might be felt,...
Monsieur Parolles, my lord calls for you.
Monsieur Parolles, my lord calls for you.
monsieur parolles, my lord calls for you.
Monsieur Parolles, my lord calls for you.
The stage direction specifies the entire company enters 'all in black.' This is unusual — Shakespeare rarely specifies costume. It immediately establishes a tone: this is a play about loss, about things already gone, about people trying to recover what cannot be recovered. The Count is dead. The King is dying. Helena is in mourning for a father she can barely remember, because her mind is occupied by a living man who doesn't know she exists. The comedy promised by the genre hasn't arrived yet — and in some ways, it never entirely arrives. 'All's Well That Ends Well' is one of the 'problem plays' precisely because the comedy is always being undercut by something that feels more like grief. The opening image of black cloth tells you not to get too comfortable.
Little Helen, farewell. If I can remember thee, I will think of thee at
court.
Little Helen, farewell. If I can remember you, I will think of you at court.
little helen, farewell. if i can remember you, i will think of you at court.
Little Helen, farewell. If I can remember you, I will think of...
Monsieur Parolles, you were born under a charitable star.
Monsieur Parolles, you were born under a charitable star.
monsieur parolles, you were born under a charitable star.
Monsieur Parolles, you were born under a charitable star.
Under Mars, I.
Under Mars, I.
under mars, i.
Under Mars, I.
I especially think, under Mars.
I especially think, under Mars.
i especially think, under mars.
I especially think, under Mars.
Why under Mars?
Why under Mars?
why under mars?
Why under Mars?
The wars hath so kept you under, that you must needs be born under
Mars.
The wars has so kept you under, that you must needs be born under Mars.
the wars has so kept you under, that you must needs be born under mars.
The wars has so kept you under, that you must needs be...
When he was predominant.
When he was predominant.
when he was predominant.
When he was predominant.
When he was retrograde, I think rather.
When he was retrograde, I think rather.
when he was retrograde, i think rather.
When he was retrograde, I think rather.
Why think you so?
Why think you so?
why think you so?
Why think you so?
You go so much backward when you fight.
You go so much backward when you fight.
you go so much backward when you fight.
You go so much backward when you fight.
That’s for advantage.
That’s for advantage.
that’s for advantage.
That’s for advantage.
So is running away, when fear proposes the safety: but the composition
that your valour and fear makes in you is a virtue of a good wing, and
I like the wear well.
So is running away, when fear proposes the safety: but the composition that your valour and fear makes in you is a virtue of a good wing, and I like the wear well.
so 's running away, when fear proposes the safety: but the composition that your valour and fear makes in you 's a virtue of a good wing, and i like the wear well.
So is running away, when fear proposes the safety: but the composition...
I am so full of business I cannot answer thee acutely. I will return
perfect courtier; in the which my instruction shall serve to naturalize
thee, so thou wilt be capable of a courtier’s counsel, and understand
what advice shall thrust upon thee; else thou diest in thine
unthankfulness, and thine ignorance makes thee away. Farewell. When
thou hast leisure, say thy prayers; when thou hast none, remember thy
friends. Get thee a good husband, and use him as he uses thee. So,
farewell.
I am so full of business I cannot answer you acutely. I will return perfect courtier; in the which my instruction shall serve to naturalize you, so you will be capable of a courtier’s counsel, and understand what advice shall thrust upon you; else you diest in yours unthankfulness, and yours ignorance makes you away. Farewell. When you hast leisure, say your prayers; when you hast none, remember your friends. Get you a good husband, and use him as he uses you. So, farewell.
i am so full of business i cannot answer you acutely. i will return perfect courtier; in the which my instruction shall serve to naturalize you, so you will be capable of a courtier’s counsel, and understand what advice shall thrust upon you; else you diest in yours unthankfulness, and yours ignorance makes you away. farewell. when you hast leisure, say your prayers; when you hast none, remember your friends. get you a good husband, and use him as he uses you. so, farewell.
I am so full of business I cannot answer you acutely. I...
Our remedies oft in ourselves do lie,
Which we ascribe to heaven: the fated sky
Gives us free scope; only doth backward pull
Our slow designs when we ourselves are dull.
What power is it which mounts my love so high,
That makes me see, and cannot feed mine eye?
The mightiest space in fortune nature brings
To join like likes, and kiss like native things.
Impossible be strange attempts to those
That weigh their pains in sense, and do suppose
What hath been cannot be. Who ever strove
To show her merit that did miss her love?
The king’s disease,—my project may deceive me,
But my intents are fix’d, and will not leave me.
Our remedies oft in ourselves do lie, Which we ascribe to heaven: the fated sky Gives us free scope; only does backward pull Our slow designs when we ourselves are dull. What power is it which mounts my love so high, That makes me see, and cannot feed mine eye? The mightiest space in fortune nature brings To join like likes, and kiss like native things. Impossible be strange attempts to those That weigh their pains in sense, and do suppose What has been cannot be. Who ever strove To show her merit that did miss her love? The king’s disease,—my project may deceive me, But my intents are fix’d, and will not leave me.
our remedies oft in ourselves do lie, which we ascribe to heaven: the fated sky gives us free scope; only does backward pull our slow designs when we ourselves 're dull. what power 's it which mounts my love so high, that makes me see, and cannot feed mine eye? the mightiest space in fortune nature brings to join like likes, and kiss like native things. impossible be strange attempts to those that weigh their pains in sense, and do suppose what has been cannot be. who ever strove to show her merit that did miss her love? the king’s disease,—my project may deceive me, but my intents 're fix’d, and will not leave me.
Our remedies oft in ourselves do lie, Which we ascribe to heaven:...
The Reckoning
The play begins in black. Everyone is grieving something: the Countess her husband, Bertram his father, the King his health. But Helena is grieving a different kind of loss — the gap between who she is and who she loves. When Parolles arrives and the conversation turns to virginity, we see her wit, her intelligence, and the buried plan beginning to form. The scene ends with Helena alone, deciding: she will not accept the destiny her birth has written for her.
If this happened today…
Picture the reading of a will in a law office. The family is there in black. A young woman who grew up in the house — daughter of the deceased family doctor, basically a ward — sits quietly at the back while the wealthy son prepares to leave for his prestigious internship at the family's patron's firm. Once everyone else is gone, she pulls out her phone and texts her best friend: 'I haven't been thinking about my dad at all. I've been thinking about HIM.' Then the son's obnoxious hype-man friend shows up and spends fifteen minutes explaining why being a virgin is bad investment strategy. She mostly lets him talk, asks the one question she actually wanted to ask, and then sits back down alone to work out a plan.