All's Well That Ends Well

by William Shakespeare

Act V, Scene II

Rousillon. Before the Count's palace.

Enter Clown, and PAROLLES, following

Good Monsieur Lavache, give my Lord Lafeu this
letter: I have ere now, sir, been better known to
you, when I have held familiarity with fresher
clothes; but I am now, sir, muddied in fortune's
mood, and smell somewhat strong of her strong
displeasure.

Truly, fortune's displeasure is but sluttish, if it
smell so strongly as thou speakest of: I will
henceforth eat no fish of fortune's buttering.
Prithee, allow the wind.

Nay, you need not to stop your nose, sir; I spake
but by a metaphor.

Indeed, sir, if your metaphor stink, I will stop my
nose; or against any man's metaphor. Prithee, get
thee further.

Pray you, sir, deliver me this paper.

Foh! prithee, stand away: a paper from fortune's
close-stool to give to a nobleman! Look, here he
comes himself.

Enter LAFEU

Here is a purr of fortune's, sir, or of fortune's
cat,—but not a musk-cat,—that has fallen into the
unclean fishpond of her displeasure, and, as he
says, is muddied withal: pray you, sir, use the
carp as you may; for he looks like a poor, decayed,
ingenious, foolish, rascally knave. I do pity his
distress in my similes of comfort and leave him to
your lordship.

Exit

My lord, I am a man whom fortune hath cruelly
scratched.

And what would you have me to do? 'Tis too late to
pare her nails now. Wherein have you played the
knave with fortune, that she should scratch you, who
of herself is a good lady and would not have knaves
thrive long under her? There's a quart d'ecu for
you: let the justices make you and fortune friends:
I am for other business.

I beseech your honour to hear me one single word.

You beg a single penny more: come, you shall ha't;
save your word.

My name, my good lord, is Parolles.

You beg more than 'word,' then. Cox my passion!
give me your hand. How does your drum?

O my good lord, you were the first that found me!

Was I, in sooth? and I was the first that lost thee.

It lies in you, my lord, to bring me in some grace,
for you did bring me out.

Out upon thee, knave! dost thou put upon me at once
both the office of God and the devil? One brings
thee in grace and the other brings thee out.

Trumpets sound

The king's coming; I know by his trumpets. Sirrah,
inquire further after me; I had talk of you last
night: though you are a fool and a knave, you shall
eat; go to, follow.

I praise God for you.

Exeunt

Next Scene

Monadnock Valley Press > Shakespeare > All's Well That Ends Well