Speeches (Lines) for Steward in "All's Well That Ends Well"

Total: 6
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# Act / Scene Speech text
1 I / 3
  • Madam, the care I have had to even your content, I
    wish might be found in th...
  • Madam, the care I have had to even your content, I
    wish might be found in the calendar of my past
    endeavours; for then we wound our modesty and make
    foul the clearness of our deservings, when of
    ourselves we publish them.
  • Countess. I will now hear; what say you of this gentlewoman?

    Steward. Madam, the care I have had to even your content, I
    wish might be found in the calendar of my past
    endeavours; for then we wound our modesty and make
    foul the clearness of our deservings, when of
    ourselves we publish them.

2 I / 3
  • May it please you, madam, that he bid Helen come to
    you: of her I am to spea...
  • May it please you, madam, that he bid Helen come to
    you: of her I am to speak.
  • Countess. Get you gone, sir; I'll talk with you more anon.

    Steward. May it please you, madam, that he bid Helen come to
    you: of her I am to speak.

3 I / 3
  • I know, madam, you love your gentlewoman entirely.
  • I know, madam, you love your gentlewoman entirely.
  • Countess. Well, now.

    Steward. I know, madam, you love your gentlewoman entirely.

4 I / 3
  • Madam, I was very late more near her than I think
    she wished me: alone she w...
  • Madam, I was very late more near her than I think
    she wished me: alone she was, and did communicate
    to herself her own words to her own ears; she
    thought, I dare vow for her, they touched not any
    stranger sense. Her matter was, she loved your son:
    Fortune, she said, was no goddess, that had put
    such difference betwixt their two estates; Love no
    god, that would not extend his might, only where
    qualities were level; Dian no queen of virgins, that
    would suffer her poor knight surprised, without
    rescue in the first assault or ransom afterward.
    This she delivered in the most bitter touch of
    sorrow that e'er I heard virgin exclaim in: which I
    held my duty speedily to acquaint you withal;
    sithence, in the loss that may happen, it concerns
    you something to know it.
  • Countess. Faith, I do: her father bequeathed her to me; and
    she herself, without other advantage, may lawfully
    make title to as much love as she finds: there is
    more owing her than is paid; and more shall be paid
    her than she'll demand.

    Steward. Madam, I was very late more near her than I think
    she wished me: alone she was, and did communicate
    to herself her own words to her own ears; she
    thought, I dare vow for her, they touched not any
    stranger sense. Her matter was, she loved your son:
    Fortune, she said, was no goddess, that had put
    such difference betwixt their two estates; Love no
    god, that would not extend his might, only where
    qualities were level; Dian no queen of virgins, that
    would suffer her poor knight surprised, without
    rescue in the first assault or ransom afterward.
    This she delivered in the most bitter touch of
    sorrow that e'er I heard virgin exclaim in: which I
    held my duty speedily to acquaint you withal;
    sithence, in the loss that may happen, it concerns
    you something to know it.

5 III / 4
  • [Reads]
    I am Saint Jaques' pilgrim, thither gone:
    Ambitious love hath so...
  • [Reads]
    I am Saint Jaques' pilgrim, thither gone:
    Ambitious love hath so in me offended,
    That barefoot plod I the cold ground upon,
    With sainted vow my faults to have amended.
    Write, write, that from the bloody course of war
    My dearest master, your dear son, may hie:
    Bless him at home in peace, whilst I from far
    His name with zealous fervor sanctify:
    His taken labours bid him me forgive;
    I, his despiteful Juno, sent him forth
    From courtly friends, with camping foes to live,
    Where death and danger dogs the heels of worth:
    He is too good and fair for death and me:
    Whom I myself embrace, to set him free.
  • Countess. Alas! and would you take the letter of her?
    Might you not know she would do as she has done,
    By sending me a letter? Read it again.

    Steward. [Reads]
    I am Saint Jaques' pilgrim, thither gone:
    Ambitious love hath so in me offended,
    That barefoot plod I the cold ground upon,
    With sainted vow my faults to have amended.
    Write, write, that from the bloody course of war
    My dearest master, your dear son, may hie:
    Bless him at home in peace, whilst I from far
    His name with zealous fervor sanctify:
    His taken labours bid him me forgive;
    I, his despiteful Juno, sent him forth
    From courtly friends, with camping foes to live,
    Where death and danger dogs the heels of worth:
    He is too good and fair for death and me:
    Whom I myself embrace, to set him free.

6 III / 4
  • Pardon me, madam:
    If I had given you this at over-night,
    She might have...
  • Pardon me, madam:
    If I had given you this at over-night,
    She might have been o'erta'en; and yet she writes,
    Pursuit would be but vain.
  • Countess. Ah, what sharp stings are in her mildest words!
    Rinaldo, you did never lack advice so much,
    As letting her pass so: had I spoke with her,
    I could have well diverted her intents,
    Which thus she hath prevented.

    Steward. Pardon me, madam:
    If I had given you this at over-night,
    She might have been o'erta'en; and yet she writes,
    Pursuit would be but vain.

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© Copyright 2017-2022 Shakespeare Network - Maximianno Cobra - All rights reserved.