« ΠροηγούμενηΣυνέχεια »
King of France.
in the Florentine war.
Steward, } Servants to the Countess of Rossillion.
Neighbours and Friends to the Widow. Lords, attending on the King; Officers, Soldiers, 8c.
French and Florentine.
SCENE, partly in France, and partly in Tuscany.
ALL'S WELL THAT ENDS WELL.
SCENE I. Rossillion. A Room in the
Countess' Palace. Enter BERTRAM, the Countess of Rossillion, HELENA,
and LaFeu, all in black.
Countess. N 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 at
tend 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 necessity 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-Oh, that had! how sad a passage 'tis! whose skill was almost as great as his honesty; had it stretched so far, it would have made nature iminortal, 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
Ber. What is it, my good lord, the King languishes of?
Laf. A fistula, my lord.
Laf. I would, it were not notorious.-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
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:
Hel. If the living be enemy to the grief, the excess makes it soon mortal.
Laf. How understand we that?
Laf. He cannot want the best advice That shall attend his love. Count. Heaven bless him !—Farewell, Bertram.
[Exit. Ber. The best wishes, that can be forged in your thoughts [To Hel.] 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
father. [Exeunt Bert, and Lafev. Hel. Oh, were that all !—I think not on my father; And these great tears grace this 2 remembrance more Than those I shed for him ... what was he like? I have forgot him; my imagination, Carries no favour in't, but Bertram's only. I am undone; there is no living, none, If Bertram be away. It were all one, That I should love a bright particular star, And think to wed it, he is so above me; In his bright radiance and collateral light Must I be comforted, not in his sphere. The ambition in my love thus plagues itself; The hind, that would be mated by the lion, Must die for love. 'Twas pretty, though a plague,
To see him every hour; to sit and draw
Par. Save you, fair queen,
Hel. Ay. You have some stain of soldier in you; let me ask you a question. Man is enemy to virginity; how may we barricado it against him?
Par. Keep him out.
Hel. But he assails; and our virginity, though valiant in the defence, yet is weak.
Unfold to us some warlike resistance.
Par. There is none; man, sitting down before you, will undermine you, and blow you up.
Hel. Bless our poor virginity from underminers, and blowers up!- Is there no military policy, how virgins might blow
men? Par. Virginity, being blown down, man will quicklier be blown up. Marry, in blowing him down again, with the breach yourselves made, you lose your city. It is not politic in the commonwealth of nature, to preserve virginity. Loss of virginity is rational'increase; and there was never virgin got, till virginity was first lost. That you were made of is metal to