King monologue from All's Well That Ends Well

King’s monologue

'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 stand off

5In differences so mighty. If she be

All that is virtuous, save what thou dislikest,

A poor physician's daughter, thou dislikest

Of virtue for the name: but do not so:

From lowest place when virtuous things proceed,

10The 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,

15Not 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,

20When rather from our acts we them derive

Than our foregoers: the mere word's a slave

Debosh'd on every tomb, on every grave

A lying trophy, and as oft is dumb

Where dust and damn'd oblivion is the tomb

25Of 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. My honour's at the stake; which to defeat,

I must produce my power. Here, take her hand,

30Proud 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,

35It is in us to plant thine honour where

We please to have it grow. Cheque thy contempt:

Obey our will, which travails in thy good:

Believe not thy disdain, but presently

Do thine own fortunes that obedient right

40Which 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,

45Without all terms of pity. Speak; thine answer.

Public domain text.