Comparison of William Shakespeare All's Well That Ends Well 5.2 to William Shakespeare

I do profess to be no less than I seem, to serve him truly that will put me in trust, to love him that is honest, to converse with him that is wise and says little, to fear judgment, to fight when I cannot choose, and to eat no fish.

Nay, you need not fear us, Lorenzo, Launcelot and I are out. He tells me flatly there’s no mercy for me in heaven because I am a Jew’s daughter;

I’ th’ dungeon by a snuff! I pray you, sir,

Deliver with more openness your answers

Here he comes himself; tell him so, if thou dar’st. [continues next]

Is Cadwal mad? Look, here he comes,

Your lordship lies! [continues next]

[continues previous] Here he comes himself; tell him so, if thou dar’st.

I am a suitor to your lordship in behalf of a servant of mine. [continues next]

New vow before your lordship, hereafter to leave cavil.

You’ll find it otherwise, I assure you; therefore, if you hold your life at any price, betake you to your guard; for your opposite hath in him what youth, strength, skill, and wrath can furnish man withal.

I pray you, sir, what is he?

When would you use it? Pray, sir, tell me that.

My lord, I had forgot to tell your lordship: [continues next]

H’as only sent his present occasion now, my lord; requesting your lordship to supply his instant use with so many talents. [continues next]

[continues previous] Not yet returned, my lord.

[continues previous] I am a suitor to your lordship in behalf of a servant of mine.

Next, he’s the governor of this country, and a man whom I am bound to.

[continues previous] My lord, I had forgot to tell your lordship:

[continues previous] H’as only sent his present occasion now, my lord; requesting your lordship to supply his instant use with so many talents.

As mine is to him? He’s sentenc’d; ’tis too late.

... apparel together, good strings to your beards, new ribands to your pumps; meet presently at the palace; every man look o’er his part; for the short and the long is, our play is preferr’d. In any case, let Thisbe have clean linen; and let not him that plays the lion pare his nails, for they shall hang out for the lion’s claws. And, most dear actors, eat no onions nor garlic, for we are to utter sweet breath; and I do not doubt but to hear them say, it is a sweet comedy. No more words. Away, go, away!

What would you have me be, and I be not a woman?

What would you have me do? Go to the wars, would you? Where a man may serve seven years for the loss of a leg, and have not money enough in the end to buy him a wooden one?

Come, come, I’ll go burn some sack, ’tis too late to go to bed now. Come, knight, come, knight.

Pare thy nails, dad.

I did never know so full a voice issue from so empty a heart; but the saying is true, “The empty vessel makes the greatest sound.” Bardolph and Nym had ten times more valor than this roaring devil i’ th’ old play, that every one may pare his nails with a wooden dagger, and they are both hang’d, and so would this be, if he durst steal any thing adventurously. I must stay with the lackeys with the luggage of our camp. The French might have a good prey of us, if he knew of it, for there is ...

O my good lord, that comfort comes too late,

’Tis like a pardon after execution.

What would you have me do?

What would you have me do? I am a subject,

And that you would have me to do?

In faith, I cannot. What would you have me do?

I beseech you, sir, ask him what this man did to my wife.

I beseech your honor, ask me.

I beseech your honor give me leave a word, and I’ll have done presently.

I beseech your honor one piece for me.

Yield, Martius, yield! Hear me one word, [continues next]

Beseech you, tribunes, hear me but a word. [continues next]

Hear me one word. I’ll overtake you. — Speak. [continues next]

And hold her free, I do beseech your honor.

All happiness to your honor!

Lord Timon, hear me speak. Freely, good father.

They are fairly welcome. I beseech your honor,

You take much pains to mend. Beseech your honor

To make it known to us. You’ll take it ill.

[continues previous] Beseech you, tribunes, hear me but a word.

[continues previous] Hear me one word. I’ll overtake you. — Speak.

Give me your hand. My honor’d lord, receive

I do confess my wrongs; give me your hand.

How does your Grace? O Griffith, sick to death! [continues next]

I have news to tell you. Come, come, give me your hand.

Ah, my good lord, I grieve at what I speak,

Brother by th’ mother’s side, give me your hand;

My father gave me honor, yours gave land.

Do you confess so much? Give me your hand.

And my heart too. O Brutus! What’s the matter?

Hang those that talk of fear. Give me mine armor.

How does your patient, doctor? Not so sick, my lord,

Now, sir, to you.

O my good lord! Sweet Isabel, take my part!

O, good my lord, you have lost a friend indeed,

[continues previous] How does your Grace? O Griffith, sick to death!

That I may speak with you. O, good my lord!

I praise God for you, sir. Your reasons at dinner have been sharp and sententious: pleasant without scurrility, witty without affection, audacious without impudency, learned without opinion, and strange without heresy. I did converse this quondam day with a companion of the King’s, who is intituled, nominated, or called, Don Adriano de Armado.

Your worship speaks like a most thankful and reverent youth, and I praise God for you.