My mother greets me kindly: is she well?
My mother greets me kindly: is she well?
my mother greets me kindly: 's she well?
My mother greets me kindly: is she well?
She is not well, but yet she has her health; she’s very merry, but yet
she is not well. But thanks be given, she’s very well, and wants
nothing i’ the world; but yet she is not well.
She is not well, but yet she has her health; she’s very merry, but yet she is not well. But thanks be given, she’s very well, and wants nothing i’ the world; but yet she is not well.
she 's not well, but yet she has her health; she’s very merry, but yet she 's not well. but thanks be given, she’s very well, and wants nothing i’ the world; but yet she 's not well.
She is not well, but yet she has her health; she’s very...
If she be very well, what does she ail that she’s not very well?
If she be very well, what does she ail that she’s not very well?
if she be very well, what does she ail that she’s not very well?
If she be very well, what does she ail that she’s not...
Truly, she’s very well indeed, but for two things.
Truly, she’s very well indeed, but for two things.
truly, she’s very well indeed, but for two things.
Truly, she’s very well indeed, but for two things.
What two things?
What two things?
what two things?
What two things?
One, that she’s not in heaven, whither God send her quickly! The other,
that she’s in earth, from whence God send her quickly!
One, that she’s not in heaven, whither God send her quickly! The other, that she’s in earth, from whence God send her quickly!
one, that she’s not in heaven, whither god send her quickly! the other, that she’s in earth, from whence god send her quickly!
One, that she’s not in heaven, whither God send her quickly! The...
Bless you, my fortunate lady!
Bless you, my fortunate lady!
bless you, my fortunate lady!
Bless you, my fortunate lady!
The Clown's opening riff on the Countess being 'not well, but yet she has her health' looks like knockabout wordplay — but it's doing something more pointed. The Clown is exploiting the gap between 'well' as physical health and 'well' as spiritual or existential completeness. On earth, no one is truly 'well' — because true wellbeing is only available in heaven. So the Countess is medically fine but existentially unwell; she has her health but lacks the only true wellness. This is not just a joke. It's a sideways gloss on the play's central question: what does it mean to 'end well'? Helena will cure the King, win a husband, pursue him across Europe — but will she be well? The Clown's paradox is a miniature version of the play's title and its deepest uncertainty.
I hope, sir, I have your good will to have mine own good fortune.
I hope, sir, I have your good will to have mine own good fortune.
i hope, sir, i 've your good will to 've mine own good fortune.
I hope, sir, I have your good will to have mine own...
You had my prayers to lead them on; and to keep them on, have them
still. O, my knave how does my old lady?
You had my prayers to lead them on; and to keep them on, have them still. O, my knave how does my old lady?
you had my prayers to lead them on; and to keep them on, 've them still. o, my knave how does my old lady?
You had my prayers to lead them on; and to keep them...
So that you had her wrinkles and I her money, I would she did as you
say.
So that you had her wrinkles and I her money, I would she did as you say.
so that you had her wrinkles and i her money, i would she did as you say.
So that you had her wrinkles and I her money, I would...
Why, I say nothing.
Why, I say nothing.
why, i say nothing.
Why, I say nothing.
Marry, you are the wiser man; for many a man’s tongue shakes out his
master’s undoing. To say nothing, to do nothing, to know nothing, and
to have nothing, is to be a great part of your title; which is within a
very little of nothing.
Marry, you are the wiser man; for many a man’s tongue shakes out his master’s undoing. To say nothing, to do nothing, to know nothing, and to have nothing, is to be a great part of your title; which is within a very little of nothing.
marry, you 're the wiser man; for many a man’s tongue shakes out h's master’s undoing. to say nothing, to do nothing, to know nothing, and to 've nothing, 's to be a great part of your title; which 's within a very little of nothing.
Marry, you are the wiser man; for many a man’s tongue shakes...
Away! Thou art a knave.
Away! you are a knave.
away! you 're a knave.
Away! you are a knave.
You should have said, sir, before a knave thou art a knave; that is
before me thou art a knave. This had been truth, sir.
You should have said, sir, before a knave you are a knave; that is before me you are a knave. This had been truth, sir.
you should 've said, sir, before a knave you 're a knave; that 's before me you 're a knave. th's had been truth, sir.
You should have said, sir, before a knave you are a knave;...
Go to, thou art a witty fool; I have found thee.
Go to, you are a witty fool; I have found you.
go to, you 're a witty fool; i 've found you.
Go to, you are a witty fool; I have found you.
Did you find me in yourself, sir? or were you taught to find me? The
search, sir, was profitable; and much fool may you find in you, even to
the world’s pleasure and the increase of laughter.
Did you find me in yourself, sir? or were you taught to find me? The search, sir, was profitable; and much fool may you find in you, even to the world’s pleasure and the increase of laughter.
did you find me in yourself, sir? or were you taught to find me? the search, sir, was profitable; and much fool may you find in you, even to the world’s pleasure and the increase of laughter.
Did you find me in yourself, sir? or were you taught to...
Watch what Parolles actually does in this scene: he transforms 'go home, I don't want you' into eleven lines of florid courtly poetry about delayed pleasures ripening into joy. This is the specific skill that makes him useful to Bertram — he can take an ugly truth and wrap it so elaborately that it sounds beautiful. The 'great prerogative and right of love' which Bertram 'acknowledges' but 'puts off to a compelled restraint' — all of this is Parolles performing linguistic alchemy on Bertram's contempt. The play will eventually strip away Parolles's words and reveal the nothing underneath. But here, his talent for verbal disguise is at its peak. He's not lying so much as performing: and the audience understands the difference. Helena, who doesn't yet know what Bertram has planned, has no way to decode it.
A good knave, i’ faith, and well fed.
Madam, my lord will go away tonight;
A very serious business calls on him.
The great prerogative and right of love,
Which, as your due, time claims, he does acknowledge;
But puts it off to a compell’d restraint;
Whose want, and whose delay, is strew’d with sweets;
Which they distil now in the curbed time,
To make the coming hour o’erflow with joy
And pleasure drown the brim.
A good knave, i’ faith, and well fed. Madam, my lord will go away tonight; A very serious business calls on him. The great prerogative and right of love, Which, as your due, time claims, he does acknowledge; But puts it off to a compell’d restraint; Whose want, and whose delay, is strew’d with sweets; Which they distil now in the curbed time, To make the coming hour o’erflow with joy And pleasure drown the brim.
a good knave, i’ faith, and well fed. madam, my lord will go away tonight; a very serious business calls on him. the great prerogative and right of love, which, as your due, time claims, he does acknowledge; but puts it off to a compell’d restraint; whose want, and whose delay, 's strew’d with sweets; which they distil now in the curbed time, to make the coming hour o’erflow with joy and pleasure drown the brim.
A good knave, i’ faith, and well fed. Madam, my lord will...
What’s his will else?
What’s his will else?
what’s h's will else?
What’s his will else?
That you will take your instant leave o’ the king,
And make this haste as your own good proceeding,
Strengthen’d with what apology you think
May make it probable need.
That you will take your instant leave o’ the king, And make this haste as your own good proceeding, Strengthen’d with what apology you think May make it probable need.
that you will take your instant leave o’ the king, and make th's haste as your own good proceeding, strengthen’d with what apology you think may make it probable need.
That you will take your instant leave o’ the king, And make...
What more commands he?
What more commands he?
what more commands he?
What more commands he?
That, having this obtain’d, you presently
Attend his further pleasure.
That, having this obtain’d, you presently Attend his further pleasure.
that, having th's obtain’d, you presently attend h's further pleasure.
That, having this obtain’d, you presently Attend his further pleasure.
In everything I wait upon his will.
In everything I wait upon his will.
in everything i wait upon h's will.
In everything I wait upon his will.
I shall report it so.
I shall report it so.
i shall report it so.
I shall report it so.
I pray you. Come, sirrah.
I pray you. Come, sir.
i pray you. come, sir.
I pray you. Come, sir.
The Reckoning
A short, brittle scene where almost everything important happens between the lines. The Clown skewers Parolles with wordplay; Parolles wraps Bertram's dismissal of Helena in the language of courtly love; and Helena accepts her sending-home with a submission that would be heartbreaking if she knew what she was submitting to. She doesn't yet know. The audience does. The cruelty is in the gap.
If this happened today…
Someone's new partner just texted their best friend asking them to pass along a message: 'Tell her something came up at work. Tell her I need her to go back to her place tonight. Make it sound like I'm just really committed to my career. She'll understand.' The best friend delivers the message with full corporate flair — 'he acknowledges the right you have to his full attention, but the demands of this moment require...' Meanwhile the person being broken up with says: 'Of course, tell him whatever he needs, I'm happy to help.' She doesn't yet know that 'I'll see you in two days' means never.