All's Well that Ends Well. Persons Represented. KING OF FRANCE. PAROLLES, a Follower of Bertram. COUNTESS OF ROUSILLON, Mother to Bertram. HELENA, a Gentlewoman protected An old Widow of Florence. SCENE.-Partly in France, and partly in Tuscany. Act First. SCENE I. ROUSILLON. A ROOM IN THE COUNTESS'S PALACE. Enter Bertram, the Countess of Rousillon, Helena, and Lafeu, in mourning. Count. In delivering my son from me, I bury a second husband. Ber. And I, in going, madam, weep o'er my father's death anew but I must attend his majesty's command, to whom I am now in ward, evermore in subjection. Laf. You shall find of the king a husband, madam ;--you, sir, a father: He that so generally is at all times good, must of neces sity hold his virtue to you; whose worthiness would stir it up where it wanted, rather than lack it where there is such abundance. Count. What hope is there of his majesty's amendment? Laf. He hath abandoned his physicians, madam; under whose practices he hath persecuted time with hope; and finds no other advantage in the process but only the losing of hope by time. Count. This young gentlewoman had a father, (0, that had! how sad a passage 'tis !) whose skill was almost as great as his honesty; had it stretched so far, would have made nature immortal, and death should have play for lack of work. 'Would, for the king's sake, he were living! I think, it would be the death of the king's disease. Laf. How called you the man you speak of, madam? Count. He was famous, sir, in his profession, and it was his great right to be so: Gerard de Narbon. Laf. He was excellent, indeed, madam; the king very lately spoke of him, admiringly, and mourningly; he was skilful enough to have lived still, if knowledge could be set up against mortality. -Was this gentlewoman the daughter of Gerard de Narbon? Count. His sole child, my lord; and bequeathed to my overlooking. I have those hopes of her good, that her education promises her dispositions she inherits, which make fair gifts fairer ; for where an unclean mind carries virtuous qualities, there commendations go with pity, they are virtues and traitors too; in her they are the better for their simpleness; she derives her honesty, and achieves her goodness. Laf. Your commendations, madam, get from her tears. Count. "Tis the best brine a maiden can season her praise in. The remembrance of her father never approaches her heart, but the tyranny of her sorrows takes all livelihood from her cheek. No more of this, Helena, go to, no more; lest it be rather thought you affect a sorrow, than to have. Hel. I do affect a sorrow, indeed, but I have it too. Laf. Moderate lamentation is the right of the dead, excessive grief the enemy to the living. Count. If the living be enemy to the grief, the excess makes it soon mortal. Ber. Madam, I desire your holy wishes. Laf. How understand we that? Count. Be thou blest, Bertram ! and succeed thy father In manners, as in shape! thy blood, and virtue, "Tis an unseason'd courtier; good my lord, Laf. He cannot want the best That shall attend his love. Count. Heaven bless him!-Farewell, Bertram. [Exit Countess. Ber. [To Helena.] The best wishes, that can be forged in your thoughts, be servants to you! Be comfortable to my mother, your mistress, and make much of her. Laf. Farewell, pretty lady: You must hold the credit of your father. [Exeunt Bertram and Lafeu. Hel. O, were that all!-I think not on my father; I have forgot him: my imagination Must I be comforted, not in his sphere. The ambition in my love thus plagues itself: Must die for love. "Twas pretty, though a plague, One that goes with him: I love him for his sake; Think him a great way fool, solely a coward; That they take place, when virtue's steely bones Par. Save you, fair queen. Hel. And you, monàrch.-You're for the court. Hel. That I wish well.-'Tis pity Par. What's pity? Hel. That wishing well had not a body in 't, Which might be felt: that we, the poorer born, Might with effects of them follow our friends, And show what we alone must think; which never Enter a Page. Page. Monsieur Parolles, my lord calls for you. [Exit Page. Par. Little Helen, farewell: If I can remember thee, I will think of thee at court. Hel. Monsieur Parolles, you were born under a charitable star. Par. Under Mars, I. Hel. I especially think, under Mars. Par. Why under Mars? Hel. The wars have so kept you under, that you must needs be born under Mars. Par. When he was predominant. 1 Peculiarity of feature. 2 Countenance. Hel. When he was retrograde, I think, rather Par. Why think you so? H. You go so much backward, when you fight. Hel. So is running away, when fear proposes the safety: But the composition, that your valour and fear makes in you, is a virtue of a good wing, and I like the wear well. : Par. I am so full of businesses, I cannot answer thee acutely: I will return perfect courtier: in the which, my instruction shall serve to naturalize thee, so thou wilt be capable of a courtier's counsel, and understand what advice shall thrust upon thee; else thou diest in thine unthankfulness, and thine ignorance makes thee away farewell. Remember thy friends: get thee a good husband, and use him as he uses thee: so farewell. [Exit. Hel. Our remedies oft in ourselves do lie, Which we ascribe to heaven: the fated sky Gives us free scope; only, doth backward pull Our slow designs, when we ourselves are dull. What power is it, which mounts my love so high, That makes me see, and cannot feed mine eye? The mightiest space in fortune nature brings To join like likes, and kiss like native' things. Impossible be strange attempts, to those That weigh their pains in sense; and do suppose, What hath been cannot be: Who ever strove To show her merit, that did miss her love? The king's disease-my project may deceive me, But my intents are fix'd, and will not leave me. [Exit. SCENE II.--PARIS. A ROOM IN THE KING'S PALACE. Flourish of Cornets. Enter the King of France with letters; Lords and others attending. King. The Florentines and Senoys are by the ears; Having fought with equal fortune, and continue A braving war. 1 Lord. So 'tis reported, sir. King. Nay, 'tis most credible; we here receive it 1 Lord. His love and wisdom, Approv'd so to your majesty, may plead King. He hath arm'd our answer, And Florence is denied before he comes: 2 Lord. It may well serve A nursery to our gentry, who are sick What's he comes here? For breathing and exploit. King. Enter Bertram, Lafeu, and Parolles. 1 Lord. It is the Count Rousillon, my good lord, Young Bertram. King. Youth, thou bear'st thy father's face; Hath well compos'd thee. Thy father's moral parts Ber. My thanks and duty are your majesty's. In their poor praise he humbled: Such a man Might be a copy to these younger times; Which, follow'd well, would demonstrate them now But goers backward. Ber. His good remembrance, sir, Lies richer in your thoughts, than on his tomb; So in approof1 lives not his epitaph, As in your royal speech. King. 'Would I were with him! He would always say, (Methinks, I hear him now; his plausive words He scatter'd not in ears, but grafted them, To grow there, and to bear,)-Let me not live,- On the catastrophe and heel of Pastime, 1 Approbation. |