They say miracles are past; and we have our philosophical persons to
make modern and familiar things supernatural and causeless. Hence is it
that we make trifles of terrors, ensconcing ourselves into seeming
knowledge when we should submit ourselves to an unknown fear.
They say miracles are past; and we have our philosophical persons to make modern and familiar things supernatural and causeless. Hence is it that we make trifles of terrors, ensconcing ourselves into seeming knowledge when we should submit ourselves to an unknown fear.
they say miracles 're past; and we 've our philosophical persons to make modern and familiar things supernatural and causeless. hence 's it that we make trifles of terrors, ensconcing ourselves into seeming knowledge when we should submit ourselves to an unknown fear.
They say miracles are past; and we have our philosophical persons to...
Why, ’tis the rarest argument of wonder that hath shot out in our
latter times.
Why, ’is the rarest argument of wonder that has shot out in our latter times.
why, ’t's the rarest argument of wonder that has shot out in our latter times.
Why, ’is the rarest argument of wonder that has shot out in...
And so ’tis.
And so ’is.
and so ’is.
And so ’is.
To be relinquish’d of the artists,—
To be relinquish’d of the artists,—
to be relinquish’d of the artists,—
To be relinquish’d of the artists,—
So I say; both of Galen and Paracelsus.
So I say; both of Galen and Paracelsus.
so i say; both of galen and paracelsus.
So I say; both of Galen and Paracelsus.
Of all the learned and authentic fellows,—
Of all the learned and authentic fellows,—
of all the learned and authentic fellows,—
Of all the learned and authentic fellows,—
Right; so I say.
Right; so I say.
right; so i say.
Right; so I say.
That gave him out incurable,—
That gave him out incurable,—
that gave him out incurable,—
That gave him out incurable,—
Why, there ’tis; so say I too.
Why, there ’is; so say I too.
why, there ’is; so say i too.
Why, there ’is; so say I too.
Not to be helped.
Not to be helped.
not to be helped.
Not to be helped.
Right; as ’twere a man assur’d of a—
Right; as ’twere a man assur’d of a—
right; as ’twere a man assur’d of a—
Right; as ’twere a man assur’d of a—
Uncertain life and sure death.
Uncertain life and sure death.
uncertain life and sure death.
Uncertain life and sure death.
Just; you say well. So would I have said.
Just; you say well. So would I have said.
just; you say well. so would i 've said.
Just; you say well. So would I have said.
I may truly say, it is a novelty to the world.
I may truly say, it is a novelty to the world.
i may truly say, it 's a novelty to the world.
I may truly say, it is a novelty to the world.
It is indeed; if you will have it in showing, you shall read it in what
do you call there?
It is indeed; if you will have it in showing, you shall read it in what do you call there?
it 's indeed; if you will 've it in showing, you shall read it in what do you call there?
It is indeed; if you will have it in showing, you shall...
A showing of a heavenly effect in an earthly actor.
A showing of a heavenly effect in an earthly actor.
a showing of a heavenly effect in an earthly actor.
A showing of a heavenly effect in an earthly actor.
That’s it; I would have said the very same.
That’s it; I would have said the very same.
that’s it; i would 've said the very same.
That’s it; I would have said the very same.
Why, your dolphin is not lustier; fore me, I speak in respect—
Why, your dolphin is not lustier; fore me, I speak in respect—
why, your dolphin 's not lustier; fore me, i speak in respect—
Why, your dolphin is not lustier; fore me, I speak in respect—
Nay, ’tis strange, ’tis very strange; that is the brief and the tedious
of it; and he’s of a most facinerious spirit that will not acknowledge
it to be the—
no, ’is strange, ’is very strange; that is the brief and the tedious of it; and he’s of a most facinerious spirit that will not acknowledge it to be the—
no, ’t's strange, ’t's very strange; that 's the brief and the tedious of it; and he’s of a most facinerious spirit that will not acknowledge it to be the—
no, ’is strange, ’is very strange; that is the brief and the...
Very hand of heaven.
Very hand of heaven.
very hand of heaven.
Very hand of heaven.
Ay, so I say.
Ay, so I say.
ay, so i say.
Ay, so I say.
In a most weak—
In a most weak—
in a most weak—
In a most weak—
And debile minister, great power, great transcendence, which should
indeed give us a further use to be made than alone the recov’ry of the
king, as to be—
And debile minister, great power, great transcendence, which should indeed give us a further use to be made than alone the recov’ry of the king, as to be—
and debile minister, great power, great transcendence, which should indeed give us a further use to be made than alone the recov’ry of the king, as to be—
And debile minister, great power, great transcendence, which should indeed give us...
Generally thankful.
Generally thankful.
generally thankful.
Generally thankful.
I would have said it; you say well. Here comes the king.
I would have said it; you say well. Here comes the king.
i would 've said it; you say well. here comes the king.
I would have said it; you say well. Here comes the king.
The scene's central action — a woman publicly choosing from a lineup of eligible bachelors — seems to grant Helena extraordinary power. In one sense it does: the King has promised her any man she wants. But the scene actually demonstrates how hemmed in that power is. She still cannot simply demand Bertram — she must approach each lord with a courtly 'will you hear my suit?' She's given formal permission for an extraordinary act, but must perform it with complete feminine deference. When Bertram refuses, the King must step in and exercise the power behind her power. The real structure of authority is never in doubt. Helena's agency is real but borrowed — licensed by the King, revocable if he chooses. What the scene makes clear is that even this exceptional woman, even with a king's backing, cannot compel desire. She can have the hand. She cannot have the heart. That gap — between legal ownership and genuine love — is what the play then spends three acts exploring.
Lustique, as the Dutchman says. I’ll like a maid the better, whilst I
have a tooth in my head. Why, he’s able to lead her a coranto.
Lustique, as the Dutchman says. I’ll like a maid the better, whilst I have a tooth in my head. Why, he’s able to lead her a coranto.
lustique, as the dutchman says. i’ll like a maid the better, whilst i 've a tooth in my head. why, he’s able to lead her a coranto.
Lustique, as the Dutchman says. I’ll like a maid the better, whilst...
_Mor du vinager!_ is not this Helen?
_Mor du vinager!_ is not this Helen?
_mor du vinager!_ 's not th's helen?
_Mor du vinager!_ is not this Helen?
Fore God, I think so.
Fore God, I think so.
fore god, i think so.
Fore God, I think so.
Go, call before me all the lords in court.
Go, call before me all the lords in court.
go, call before me all the lords in court.
Go, call before me all the lords in court.
To each of you one fair and virtuous mistress
Fall, when love please! Marry, to each but one!
To each of you one fair and virtuous mistress Fall, when love please! Marry, to each but one!
to each of you one fair and virtuous mistress fall, when love please! marry, to each but one!
To each of you one fair and virtuous mistress Fall, when love...
I’d give bay curtal and his furniture
My mouth no more were broken than these boys’,
And writ as little beard.
I’d give bay curtal and his furniture My mouth no more were broken than these boys’, And writ as little beard.
i’d give bay curtal and h's furniture my mouth no more were broken than these boys’, and writ as little beard.
I’d give bay curtal and his furniture My mouth no more were...
Peruse them well.
Not one of those but had a noble father.
She addresses her to a Lord.
Peruse them well. Not one of those but had a noble father. She addresses her to a Lord.
peruse them well. not one of those but had a noble father. she addresses her to a lord.
Peruse them well. Not one of those but had a noble father....
Gentlemen,
Heaven hath through me restor’d the king to health.
Gentlemen, Heaven has through me restor’d the king to health.
gentlemen, heaven has through me restor’d the king to health.
Gentlemen, Heaven has through me restor’d the king to health.
We understand it, and thank heaven for you.
We understand it, and thank heaven for you.
we understand it, and thank heaven for you.
We understand it, and thank heaven for you.
I am a simple maid, and therein wealthiest
That I protest I simply am a maid.
Please it, your majesty, I have done already.
The blushes in my cheeks thus whisper me:
“We blush that thou shouldst choose; but, be refused,
Let the white death sit on thy cheek for ever,
We’ll ne’er come there again.”
I am a simple maid, and therein wealthiest That I protest I simply am a maid. Please it, your majesty, I have done already. The blushes in my cheeks thus whisper me: “We blush that you should choose; but, be refused, Let the white death sit on your cheek for ever, We’ll ne’er come there again.”
i am a simple maid, and therein wealthiest that i protest i simply am a maid. please it, your majesty, i 've done already. the blushes in my cheeks thus whisper me: “we blush that you should choose; but, be refused, let the white death sit on your cheek for ever, we’ll ne’er come there again.”
I am a simple maid, and therein wealthiest That I protest I...
Make choice; and, see,
Who shuns thy love shuns all his love in me.
Make choice; and, see, Who shuns your love shuns all his love in me.
make choice; and, see, who shuns your love shuns all h's love in me.
Make choice; and, see, Who shuns your love shuns all his love...
Now, Dian, from thy altar do I fly,
And to imperial Love, that god most high,
Do my sighs stream. [_To first Lord._] Sir, will you hear my suit?
Now, Dian, from your altar do I fly, And to imperial Love, that god most high, Do my sighs stream. [_To first Lord._] Sir, will you hear my suit?
now, dian, from your altar do i fly, and to imperial love, that god most high, do my sighs stream. [_to first lord._] sir, will you hear my suit?
Now, Dian, from your altar do I fly, And to imperial Love,...
And grant it.
And grant it.
and grant it.
And grant it.
Modern readers usually find Bertram contemptible in this scene — his naked class snobbery ('A poor physician's daughter my wife!') and his stubborn refusal to accept what looks like an extraordinary gift feel like the reactions of a spoiled child. But the Elizabethan audience may have had more sympathy. A count was expected to marry within his rank — not because he was personally vicious, but because the entire system of property, inheritance, and social order depended on controlled marriage. Bertram's mother had presumably been planning his marriage to some noble house's daughter. The King's intervention is, from one angle, a massive exercise of royal overreach — forcing a ward to marry against his will as a reward to a dependent. Bertram's resistance is partly pride, yes. But it's also partly the reasonable objection of someone whose most basic life decision has just been made for him. The play never quite resolves this. Watch for how the text keeps giving Bertram moments of quasi-justification even as it condemns his behavior.
Thanks, sir; all the rest is mute.
Thanks, sir; all the rest is mute.
thanks, sir; all the rest 's mute.
Thanks, sir; all the rest is mute.
I had rather be in this choice than throw ames-ace for my life.
I had rather be in this choice than throw ames-ace for my life.
i had rather be in th's choice than throw ames-ace for my life.
I had rather be in this choice than throw ames-ace for my...
Before I speak, too threat’ningly replies.
Love make your fortunes twenty times above
Her that so wishes, and her humble love!
Before I speak, too threat’ningly replies. Love make your fortunes twenty times above Her that so wishes, and her humble love!
before i speak, too threat’ningly replies. love make your fortunes twenty times above her that so wishes, and her humble love!
Before I speak, too threat’ningly replies. Love make your fortunes twenty times...
No better, if you please.
No better, if you please.
no better, if you please.
No better, if you please.
My wish receive,
Which great Love grant; and so I take my leave.
My wish receive, Which great Love grant; and so I take my leave.
my wish receive, which great love grant; and so i take my leave.
My wish receive, Which great Love grant; and so I take my...
Do all they deny her? An they were sons of mine I’d have them whipp’d;
or I would send them to th’ Turk to make eunuchs of.
Do all they deny her? An they were sons of mine I’d have them whipp’d; or I would send them to th’ Turk to make eunuchs of.
do all they deny her? an they were sons of mine i’d 've them whipp’d; or i would send them to th’ turk to make eunuchs of.
Do all they deny her? An they were sons of mine I’d...
I’ll never do you wrong for your own sake.
Blessing upon your vows, and in your bed
Find fairer fortune, if you ever wed!
I’ll never do you wrong for your own sake. Blessing upon your vows, and in your bed Find fairer fortune, if you ever wed!
i’ll never do you wrong for your own sake. blessing upon your vows, and in your bed find fairer fortune, if you ever wed!
I’ll never do you wrong for your own sake. Blessing upon your...
These boys are boys of ice, they’ll none have her. Sure, they are
bastards to the English; the French ne’er got ’em.
These boys are boys of ice, they’ll none have her. Sure, they are bastards to the English; the French ne’er got ’em.
these boys 're boys of ice, they’ll none 've her. sure, they 're bastards to the english; the french ne’er got ’em.
These boys are boys of ice, they’ll none have her. Sure, they...
To make yourself a son out of my blood.
To make yourself a son out of my blood.
to make yourself a son out of my blood.
To make yourself a son out of my blood.
Fair one, I think not so.
Fair one, I think not so.
fair one, i think not so.
Fair one, I think not so.
There’s one grape yet. I am sure thy father drank wine. But if thou
beest not an ass, I am a youth of fourteen; I have known thee already.
There’s one grape yet. I am sure your father drank wine. But if you beest not an ass, I am a youth of fourteen; I have known you already.
there’s one grape yet. i am sure your father drank wine. but if you beest not an ass, i am a youth of fourteen; i 've known you already.
There’s one grape yet. I am sure your father drank wine. But...
Me and my service, ever whilst I live,
Into your guiding power. This is the man.
Me and my service, ever whilst I live, Into your guiding power. This is the man.
me and my service, ever whilst i live, into your guiding power. th's 's the man.
Me and my service, ever whilst I live, Into your guiding power....
Why, then, young Bertram, take her; she’s thy wife.
Why, then, young Bertram, take her; she’s your wife.
why, then, young bertram, take her; she’s your wife.
Why, then, young Bertram, take her; she’s your wife.
My wife, my liege! I shall beseech your highness,
In such a business give me leave to use
The help of mine own eyes.
My wife, my liege! I shall beseech your highness, In such a business give me leave to use The help of mine own eyes.
my wife, my liege! i shall beseech your highness, in such a business give me leave to use the help of mine own eyes.
My wife, my liege! I shall beseech your highness, In such a...
Know’st thou not, Bertram,
What she has done for me?
Know’st you not, Bertram, What she has done for me?
know’st you not, bertram, what she has done for me?
Know’st you not, Bertram, What she has done for me?
Yes, my good lord,
But never hope to know why I should marry her.
Yes, my good lord, But never hope to know why I should marry her.
yes, my good lord, but never hope to know why i should marry her.
Yes, my good lord, But never hope to know why I should...
Thou know’st she has rais’d me from my sickly bed.
you know’st she has rais’d me from my sickly bed.
you know’st she has rais’d me from my sickly bed.
you know’st she has rais’d me from my sickly bed.
But follows it, my lord, to bring me down
Must answer for your raising? I know her well;
She had her breeding at my father’s charge:
A poor physician’s daughter my wife! Disdain
Rather corrupt me ever!
But follows it, my lord, to bring me down Must answer for your raising? I know her well; She had her breeding at my father’s charge: A poor physician’s daughter my wife! Disdain Rather corrupt me ever!
but follows it, my lord, to bring me down must answer for your raising? i know her well; she had her breeding at my father’s charge: a poor physician’s daughter my wife! disdain rather corrupt me ever!
But follows it, my lord, to bring me down Must answer for...
’Tis only title thou disdain’st in her, the which
I can build up. Strange is it that our bloods,
Of colour, weight, and heat, pour’d all together,
Would quite confound distinction, yet stands off
In differences so mighty. If she be
All that is virtuous, save what thou dislik’st,
A poor physician’s daughter,—thou dislik’st—
Of virtue for the name. But do not so.
From lowest place when virtuous things proceed,
The place is dignified by the doer’s deed.
Where great additions swell’s, and virtue none,
It is a dropsied honour. Good alone
Is good without a name; vileness is so:
The property by what it is should go,
Not by the title. She is young, wise, fair;
In these to nature she’s immediate heir;
And these breed honour: that is honour’s scorn
Which challenges itself as honour’s born,
And is not like the sire. Honours thrive
When rather from our acts we them derive
Than our fore-goers. The mere word’s a slave,
Debauch’d on every tomb, on every grave
A lying trophy, and as oft is dumb
Where dust and damn’d oblivion is the tomb
Of honour’d bones indeed. What should be said?
If thou canst like this creature as a maid,
I can create the rest. Virtue and she
Is her own dower; honour and wealth from me.
’is only title you disdain’st in her, the which I can build up. Strange is it that our bloods, Of colour, weight, and heat, pour’d all together, Would quite confound distinction, yet stands off In differences so mighty. If she be All that is virtuous, save what you dislik’st, A poor physician’s daughter,—you dislik’st— Of virtue for the name. But do not so. From lowest place when virtuous things proceed, The place is dignified by the doer’s deed. Where great additions swell’s, and virtue none, It is a dropsied honour. Good alone Is good without a name; vileness is so: The property by what it is should go, Not by the title. She is young, wise, fair; In these to nature she’s immediate heir; And these breed honour: that is honour’s scorn Which challenges itself as honour’s born, And is not like the sire. Honours thrive When rather from our acts we them derive Than our fore-goers. The mere word’s a slave, Debauch’d on every tomb, on every grave A lying trophy, and as oft is dumb Where dust and damn’d oblivion is the tomb Of honour’d bones indeed. What should be said? If you can like this creature as a maid, I can create the rest. Virtue and she Is her own dower; honour and wealth from me.
’t's only title you disdain’st in her, the which i can build up. strange 's it that our bloods, of colour, weight, and heat, pour’d all together, would quite confound distinction, yet stands off in differences so mighty. if she be all that 's virtuous, save what you dislik’st, a poor physician’s daughter,—you dislik’st— of virtue for the name. but do not so. from lowest place when virtuous things proceed, the place 's dignified by the doer’s deed. where great additions swell’s, and virtue none, it 's a dropsied honour. good alone 's good without a name; vileness 's so: the property by what it 's should go, not by the title. she 's young, wise, fair; in these to nature she’s immediate heir; and these breed honour: that 's honour’s scorn which challenges itself as honour’s born, and 's not like the sire. honours thrive when rather from our acts we them derive than our fore-goers. the mere word’s a slave, debauch’d on every tomb, on every grave a lying trophy, and as oft 's dumb where dust and damn’d oblivion 's the tomb of honour’d bones indeed. what should be said? if you can like th's creature as a maid, i can create the rest. virtue and she 's her own dower; honour and wealth from me.
’is only title you disdain’st in her, the which I can build...
I cannot love her, nor will strive to do ’t.
I cannot love her, nor will strive to do ’t.
i cannot love her, nor will strive to do ’t.
I cannot love her, nor will strive to do ’t.
Thou wrong’st thyself, if thou shouldst strive to choose.
you wrong’st yourself, if you should strive to choose.
you wrong’st yourself, if you should strive to choose.
you wrong’st yourself, if you should strive to choose.
That you are well restor’d, my lord, I am glad.
Let the rest go.
That you are well restor’d, my lord, I am glad. Let the rest go.
that you 're well restor’d, my lord, i am glad. let the rest go.
That you are well restor’d, my lord, I am glad. Let the...
The Lafew-Parolles exchange in the second half of 2-3 looks like low comedy after the high drama of the marriage scene. But it does serious work. Lafew is the play's most reliable reader of character — he immediately sees through Bertram's recantation as hollow, and he sees through Parolles as nothing but costume. The Parolles sub-scene establishes that Bertram will receive bad counsel from a worse counselor, and it gives the audience a measuring stick: if Lafew can see both Bertram's inadequacy and Parolles's fraud from the outside, the play is asking us to do the same. The comic idiom also prepares us for the Parolles plot in Acts 3 and 4 — when his empty bravado will finally catch up with him in a trap of his own making. Shakespeare uses Lafew's dismissals here as a promise: we will watch this man be proved right.
My honour’s at the stake, which to defeat,
I must produce my power. Here, take her hand,
Proud scornful boy, unworthy this good gift,
That dost in vile misprision shackle up
My love and her desert; that canst not dream
We, poising us in her defective scale,
Shall weigh thee to the beam; that wilt not know
It is in us to plant thine honour where
We please to have it grow. Check thy contempt;
Obey our will, which travails in thy good;
Believe not thy disdain, but presently
Do thine own fortunes that obedient right
Which both thy duty owes and our power claims;
Or I will throw thee from my care for ever
Into the staggers and the careless lapse
Of youth and ignorance; both my revenge and hate
Loosing upon thee in the name of justice,
Without all terms of pity. Speak! Thine answer!
My honour’s at the stake, which to defeat, I must produce my power. Here, take her hand, Proud scornful boy, unworthy this good gift, That do in vile misprision shackle up My love and her desert; that can not dream We, poising us in her defective scale, Shall weigh you to the beam; that will not know It is in us to plant yours honour where We please to have it grow. Check your contempt; Obey our will, which travails in your good; Believe not your disdain, but presently Do yours own fortunes that obedient right Which both your duty owes and our power claims; Or I will throw you from my care for ever Into the staggers and the careless lapse Of youth and ignorance; both my revenge and hate Loosing upon you in the name of justice, Without all terms of pity. Speak! yours answer!
my honour’s at the stake, which to defeat, i must produce my power. here, take her hand, proud scornful boy, unworthy th's good gift, that do in vile misprision shackle up my love and her desert; that can not dream we, poising us in her defective scale, shall weigh you to the beam; that will not know it 's in us to plant yours honour where we please to 've it grow. check your contempt; obey our will, which travails in your good; believe not your disdain, but presently do yours own fortunes that obedient right which both your duty owes and our power claims; or i will throw you from my c're for ever into the staggers and the careless lapse of youth and ignorance; both my revenge and hate loosing upon you in the name of justice, without all terms of pity. speak! yours answer!
My honour’s at the stake, which to defeat, I must produce my...
Pardon, my gracious lord; for I submit
My fancy to your eyes. When I consider
What great creation, and what dole of honour
Flies where you bid it, I find that she, which late
Was in my nobler thoughts most base, is now
The praised of the king; who, so ennobled,
Is as ’twere born so.
Pardon, my gracious lord; for I submit My fancy to your eyes. When I consider What great creation, and what dole of honour Flies where you bid it, I find that she, which late Was in my nobler thoughts most base, is now The praised of the king; who, so ennobled, Is as ’twere born so.
pardon, my gracious lord; for i submit my fancy to your eyes. when i consider what great creation, and what dole of honour flies where you bid it, i find that she, which late was in my nobler thoughts most base, 's now the praised of the king; who, so ennobled, 's as ’twere born so.
Pardon, my gracious lord; for I submit My fancy to your eyes....
Take her by the hand,
And tell her she is thine; to whom I promise
A counterpoise; if not to thy estate,
A balance more replete.
Take her by the hand, And tell her she is yours; to whom I promise A counterpoise; if not to your estate, A balance more replete.
take her by the hand, and tell her she 's yours; to whom i promise a counterpoise; if not to your estate, a balance more replete.
Take her by the hand, And tell her she is yours; to...
I take her hand.
I take her hand.
i take her hand.
I take her hand.
Good fortune and the favour of the king
Smile upon this contract; whose ceremony
Shall seem expedient on the now-born brief,
And be perform’d tonight. The solemn feast
Shall more attend upon the coming space,
Expecting absent friends. As thou lov’st her,
Thy love’s to me religious; else, does err.
Good fortune and the favour of the king Smile upon this contract; whose ceremony Shall seem expedient on the now-born brief, And be perform’d tonight. The solemn feast Shall more attend upon the coming space, Expecting absent friends. As you lov’st her, your love’s to me religious; else, does err.
good fortune and the favour of the king smile upon th's contract; whose ceremony shall seem expedient on the now-born brief, and be perform’d tonight. the solemn feast shall more attend upon the coming space, expecting absent friends. as you lov’st her, your love’s to me religious; else, does err.
Good fortune and the favour of the king Smile upon this contract;...
Do you hear, monsieur? A word with you.
Do you hear, monsieur? A word with you.
do you hear, monsieur? a word with you.
Do you hear, monsieur? A word with you.
Your pleasure, sir.
Your pleasure, sir.
your pleasure, sir.
Your pleasure, sir.
Your lord and master did well to make his recantation.
Your lord and master did well to make his recantation.
your lord and master did well to make h's recantation.
Your lord and master did well to make his recantation.
Recantation! My lord! My master!
Recantation! My lord! My master!
recantation! my lord! my master!
Recantation! My lord! My master!
Ay. Is it not a language I speak?
Ay. Is it not a language I speak?
ay. 's it not a language i speak?
Ay. Is it not a language I speak?
A most harsh one, and not to be understood without bloody succeeding.
My master!
A most harsh one, and not to be understood without bloody succeeding. My master!
a most harsh one, and not to be understood without bloody succeeding. my master!
A most harsh one, and not to be understood without bloody succeeding....
Are you companion to the Count Rossillon?
Are you companion to the Count Rossillon?
're you companion to the count rossillon?
Are you companion to the Count Rossillon?
To any count; to all counts; to what is man.
To any count; to all counts; to what is man.
to any count; to all counts; to what 's man.
To any count; to all counts; to what is man.
To what is count’s man: count’s master is of another style.
To what is count’s man: count’s master is of another style.
to what 's count’s man: count’s master 's of another style.
To what is count’s man: count’s master is of another style.
You are too old, sir; let it satisfy you, you are too old.
You are too old, sir; let it satisfy you, you are too old.
you 're too old, sir; let it satisfy you, you 're too old.
You are too old, sir; let it satisfy you, you are too...
I must tell thee, sirrah, I write man; to which title age cannot bring
thee.
I must tell you, sir, I write man; to which title age cannot bring you.
i must tell you, sir, i write man; to which title age cannot bring you.
I must tell you, sir, I write man; to which title age...
What I dare too well do, I dare not do.
What I dare too well do, I dare not do.
what i d're too well do, i d're not do.
What I dare too well do, I dare not do.
I did think thee, for two ordinaries, to be a pretty wise fellow; thou
didst make tolerable vent of thy travel; it might pass. Yet the scarfs
and the bannerets about thee did manifoldly dissuade me from believing
thee a vessel of too great a burden. I have now found thee; when I lose
thee again I care not. Yet art thou good for nothing but taking up, and
that thou art scarce worth.
I did think you, for two ordinaries, to be a pretty wise fellow; you did make tolerable vent of your travel; it might pass. Yet the scarfs and the bannerets about you did manifoldly dissuade me from believing you a vessel of too great a burden. I have now found you; when I lose you again I care not. Yet are you good for nothing but taking up, and that you are scarce worth.
i did think you, for two ordinaries, to be a pretty wise fellow; you did make tolerable vent of your travel; it might pass. yet the scarfs and the bannerets about you did manifoldly dissuade me from believing you a vessel of too great a burden. i 've now found you; when i lose you again i c're not. yet 're you good for nothing but taking up, and that you 're scarce worth.
I did think you, for two ordinaries, to be a pretty wise...
Hadst thou not the privilege of antiquity upon thee—
Hadst you not the privilege of antiquity upon you—
hadst you not the privilege of antiquity upon you—
Hadst you not the privilege of antiquity upon you—
Do not plunge thyself too far in anger, lest thou hasten thy trial;
which if—Lord have mercy on thee for a hen! So, my good window of
lattice, fare thee well; thy casement I need not open, for I look
through thee. Give me thy hand.
Do not plunge yourself too far in anger, lest you hasten your trial; which if—Lord have mercy on you for a hen! So, my good window of lattice, fare you well; your casement I need not open, for I look through you. Give me your hand.
do not plunge yourself too far in anger, lest you hasten your trial; which if—lord 've mercy on you for a hen! so, my good window of lattice, f're you well; your casement i need not open, for i look through you. give me your hand.
Do not plunge yourself too far in anger, lest you hasten your...
My lord, you give me most egregious indignity.
My lord, you give me most egregious indignity.
my lord, you give me most egregious indignity.
My lord, you give me most egregious indignity.
Ay, with all my heart; and thou art worthy of it.
Ay, with all my heart; and you are worthy of it.
ay, with all my heart; and you 're worthy of it.
Ay, with all my heart; and you are worthy of it.
I have not, my lord, deserv’d it.
I have not, my lord, deserv’d it.
i 've not, my lord, deserv’d it.
I have not, my lord, deserv’d it.
Yes, good faith, every dram of it; and I will not bate thee a scruple.
Yes, good faith, every dram of it; and I will not bate you a scruple.
yes, good faith, every dram of it; and i will not bate you a scruple.
Yes, good faith, every dram of it; and I will not bate...
Well, I shall be wiser.
Well, I shall be wiser.
well, i shall be wiser.
Well, I shall be wiser.
Notice how the scene shifts between verse and prose along precise class lines. The opening Lafew-Parolles-Bertram exchange is prose — three men of no particular gravity chatting. When the King enters with Helena, the mode shifts to verse: royal ceremony demands it. The husband-choice sequence is verse because Helena is operating at the height of her power and dignity. When the king compels Bertram, his speeches build in formal verse to the crescendo of 'Speak! Thine answer!' After the principals exit, Lafew and Parolles fall back into prose — they are the world of contingency and comedy, not of ceremony. Bertram and Parolles at the scene's end plan their escape in verse that's colloquial enough to feel like prose, signaling that they think they're making a grand decision while actually making a small, sad one. The verse/prose register is one of Shakespeare's most reliable instruments for telling you how seriously to take a moment.
Ev’n as soon as thou canst, for thou hast to pull at a smack o’ th’
contrary. If ever thou beest bound in thy scarf and beaten, thou shalt
find what it is to be proud of thy bondage. I have a desire to hold my
acquaintance with thee, or rather my knowledge, that I may say in the
default, “He is a man I know.”
Ev’n as soon as you can, for you hast to pull at a smack o’ th’ contrary. If ever you beest bound in your scarf and beaten, you shall find what it is to be proud of your bondage. I have a desire to hold my acquaintance with you, or rather my knowledge, that I may say in the default, “He is a man I know.”
ev’n as soon as you can, for you hast to pull at a smack o’ th’ contrary. if ever you beest bound in your scarf and beaten, you shall find what it 's to be proud of your bondage. i 've a desire to hold my acquaintance with you, or rather my knowledge, that i may say in the default, “he 's a man i know.”
Ev’n as soon as you can, for you hast to pull at...
My lord, you do me most insupportable vexation.
My lord, you do me most insupportable vexation.
my lord, you do me most insupportable vexation.
My lord, you do me most insupportable vexation.
I would it were hell-pains for thy sake, and my poor doing eternal; for
doing I am past, as I will by thee, in what motion age will give me
leave.
I would it were hell-pains for your sake, and my poor doing eternal; for doing I am past, as I will by you, in what motion age will give me leave.
i would it were hell-pains for your sake, and my poor doing eternal; for doing i am past, as i will by you, in what motion age will give me leave.
I would it were hell-pains for your sake, and my poor doing...
Well, thou hast a son shall take this disgrace off me; scurvy, old,
filthy, scurvy lord! Well, I must be patient; there is no fettering of
authority. I’ll beat him, by my life, if I can meet him with any
convenience, an he were double and double a lord. I’ll have no more
pity of his age than I would have of—I’ll beat him, and if I could but
meet him again.
Well, you hast a son shall take this disgrace off me; scurvy, old, filthy, scurvy lord! Well, I must be patient; there is no fettering of authority. I’ll beat him, by my life, if I can meet him with any convenience, an he were double and double a lord. I’ll have no more pity of his age than I would have of—I’ll beat him, and if I could but meet him again.
well, you hast a son shall take th's disgrace off me; scurvy, old, filthy, scurvy lord! well, i must be patient; there 's no fettering of authority. i’ll beat him, by my life, if i can meet him with any convenience, an he were double and double a lord. i’ll 've no more pity of h's age than i would 've of—i’ll beat him, and if i could but meet him again.
Well, you hast a son shall take this disgrace off me; scurvy,...
Sirrah, your lord and master’s married; there’s news for you; you have
a new mistress.
sir, your lord and master’s married; there’s news for you; you have a new mistress.
sir, your lord and master’s married; there’s news for you; you 've a new mistress.
sir, your lord and master’s married; there’s news for you; you have...
I most unfeignedly beseech your lordship to make some reservation of
your wrongs. He is my good lord; whom I serve above is my master.
I most unfeignedly beseech your lordship to make some reservation of your wrongs. He is my good lord; whom I serve above is my master.
i most unfeignedly beseech your lordship to make some reservation of your wrongs. he 's my good lord; whom i serve above 's my master.
I most unfeignedly beseech your lordship to make some reservation of your...
Who? God?
Who? God?
who? god?
Who? God?
Ay, sir.
Ay, sir.
ay, sir.
Ay, sir.
The devil it is that’s thy master. Why dost thou garter up thy arms o’
this fashion? Dost make hose of thy sleeves? Do other servants so? Thou
wert best set thy lower part where thy nose stands. By mine honour, if
I were but two hours younger, I’d beat thee. Methink’st thou art a
general offence, and every man should beat thee. I think thou wast
created for men to breathe themselves upon thee.
The devil it is that’s your master. Why do you garter up your arms o’ this fashion? do make hose of your sleeves? Do other servants so? you wert best set your lower part where your nose stands. By mine honour, if I were but two hours younger, I’d beat you. Methink’st you are a general offence, and every man should beat you. I think you were created for men to breathe themselves upon you.
the devil it 's that’s your master. why do you garter up your arms o’ th's fashion? do make hose of your sleeves? do other servants so? you wert best set your lower part where your nose stands. by mine honour, if i were but two hours younger, i’d beat you. methink’st you 're a general offence, and every man should beat you. i think you were created for men to breathe themselves upon you.
The devil it is that’s your master. Why do you garter up...
This is hard and undeserved measure, my lord.
This is hard and undeserved measure, my lord.
th's 's hard and undeserved measure, my lord.
This is hard and undeserved measure, my lord.
Go to, sir; you were beaten in Italy for picking a kernel out of a
pomegranate; you are a vagabond, and no true traveller. You are more
saucy with lords and honourable personages than the commission of your
birth and virtue gives you heraldry. You are not worth another word,
else I’d call you knave. I leave you.
Go to, sir; you were beaten in Italy for picking a kernel out of a pomegranate; you are a vagabond, and no true traveller. You are more saucy with lords and honourable personages than the commission of your birth and virtue gives you heraldry. You are not worth another word, else I’d call you knave. I leave you.
go to, sir; you were beaten in italy for picking a kernel out of a pomegranate; you 're a vagabond, and no true traveller. you 're more saucy with lords and honourable personages than the commission of your birth and virtue gives you heraldry. you 're not worth another word, else i’d call you knave. i leave you.
Go to, sir; you were beaten in Italy for picking a kernel...
Good, very good, it is so then. Good, very good; let it be conceal’d
awhile.
Good, very good, it is so then. Good, very good; let it be conceal’d awhile.
good, very good, it 's so then. good, very good; let it be conceal’d awhile.
Good, very good, it is so then. Good, very good; let it...
Undone, and forfeited to cares for ever!
Undone, and forfeited to cares for ever!
undone, and forfeited to cares for ever!
Undone, and forfeited to cares for ever!
What’s the matter, sweetheart?
What’s the matter, sweetheart?
what’s the matter, sweetheart?
What’s the matter, sweetheart?
Although before the solemn priest I have sworn,
I will not bed her.
Although before the solemn priest I have sworn, I will not bed her.
although before the solemn priest i 've sworn, i will not bed her.
Although before the solemn priest I have sworn, I will not bed...
What, what, sweetheart?
What, what, sweetheart?
what, what, sweetheart?
What, what, sweetheart?
O my Parolles, they have married me!
I’ll to the Tuscan wars, and never bed her.
O my Parolles, they have married me! I’ll to the Tuscan wars, and never bed her.
o my parolles, they 've married me! i’ll to the tuscan wars, and never bed her.
O my Parolles, they have married me! I’ll to the Tuscan wars,...
France is a dog-hole, and it no more merits
The tread of a man’s foot: to the wars!
France is a dog-hole, and it no more merits The tread of a man’s foot: to the wars!
france 's a dog-hole, and it no more merits the tread of a man’s foot: to the wars!
France is a dog-hole, and it no more merits The tread of...
There’s letters from my mother; what th’ import is
I know not yet.
There’s letters from my mother; what th’ import is I know not yet.
there’s letters from my mother; what th’ import 's i know not yet.
There’s letters from my mother; what th’ import is I know not...
Ay, that would be known. To th’ wars, my boy, to th’ wars!
He wears his honour in a box unseen
That hugs his kicky-wicky here at home,
Spending his manly marrow in her arms,
Which should sustain the bound and high curvet
Of Mars’s fiery steed. To other regions!
France is a stable; we that dwell in’t, jades,
Therefore, to th’ war!
Ay, that would be known. To th’ wars, my boy, to th’ wars! He wears his honour in a box unseen That hugs his kicky-wicky here at home, Spending his manly marrow in her arms, Which should sustain the bound and high curvet Of Mars’s fiery steed. To other regions! France is a stable; we that dwell in’t, jades, Therefore, to th’ war!
ay, that would be known. to th’ wars, my boy, to th’ wars! he wears h's honour in a box unseen that hugs h's kicky-wicky here at home, spending h's manly marrow in her arms, which should sustain the bound and high curvet of mars’s fiery steed. to other regions! france 's a stable; we that dwell in’t, jades, therefore, to th’ war!
Ay, that would be known. To th’ wars, my boy, to th’...
It shall be so; I’ll send her to my house,
Acquaint my mother with my hate to her,
And wherefore I am fled; write to the king
That which I durst not speak. His present gift
Shall furnish me to those Italian fields
Where noble fellows strike. War is no strife
To the dark house and the detested wife.
It shall be so; I’ll send her to my house, Acquaint my mother with my hate to her, And wherefore I am fled; write to the king That which I durst not speak. His present gift Shall furnish me to those Italian fields Where noble fellows strike. War is no strife To the dark house and the detested wife.
it shall be so; i’ll send her to my house, acquaint my mother with my hate to her, and wherefore i am fled; write to the king that which i durst not speak. h's present gift shall furnish me to those italian fields where noble fellows strike. war 's no strife to the dark house and the detested wife.
It shall be so; I’ll send her to my house, Acquaint my...
Will this caprichio hold in thee, art sure?
Will this caprichio hold in you, are sure?
will th's caprichio hold in you, 're sure?
Will this caprichio hold in you, are sure?
Go with me to my chamber and advise me.
I’ll send her straight away. Tomorrow
I’ll to the wars, she to her single sorrow.
Go with me to my chamber and advise me. I’ll send her straight away. Tomorrow I’ll to the wars, she to her single sorrow.
go with me to my chamber and advise me. i’ll send her straight away. tomorrow i’ll to the wars, she to her single sorrow.
Go with me to my chamber and advise me. I’ll send her...
Why, these balls bound; there’s noise in it. ’Tis hard:
A young man married is a man that’s marr’d.
Therefore away, and leave her bravely; go.
The king has done you wrong; but hush ’tis so.
Why, these balls bound; there’s noise in it. ’is hard: A young man married is a man that’s marr’d. Therefore away, and leave her bravely; go. The king has done you wrong; but hush ’is so.
why, these balls bound; there’s noise in it. ’t's hard: a young man married 's a man that’s marr’d. therefore away, and leave her bravely; go. the king has done you wrong; but hush ’t's so.
Why, these balls bound; there’s noise in it. ’is hard: A young...
The Reckoning
Helena wins everything she wanted and loses it at the same moment. The King gives her his word, his lords, his power — and the one man she actually wants rejects her in front of everyone. Bertram's refusal is brutal in its nakedness: 'A poor physician's daughter my wife!' The King overpowers him into compliance, but compliance is not consent, and the scene ends with Bertram already plotting his escape. The audience is left with the queasy sense that what just happened is not a happy ending — not for anyone.
If this happened today…
Imagine a company's CEO publicly announces that an exceptional contract employee — who just saved the company from collapse — can choose any full-time role she wants, salary negotiated on the spot. She picks VP of Marketing. The Marketing director's son, who was groomed for the role, says on the record: 'She's just a contractor. I'm not working with her.' The CEO overrules him in front of the whole company, HR forces through the org chart change, and the director's son immediately starts texting his recruiter. The paperwork is signed. Nobody is happy.