ALL's well, that ENDS well.

ACT

CT I.

SCENE, the Countess of Roufillon's
Houfe in France.

Enter Bertram, the Countess of Roufillon, Helena, and
Lafeu, all in Mourning.

COUNTESS.

N delivering my Son from me, I bury a fe cond Husband.

Ber. And I in going, Madam, weep o'er my Father's Death anew; but I must attend his Majefty's command, to whom I am now in Ward, evermore in Subjection.

Laf. You fhall find of the King a Husband, Madam; you, Sir, a Father. He, that fo generally is at all times good, muft of neceffity hold his virtue to you; (1) whofe worthiness would stir it up where it wanted, rather than flack it where there is fuch abundance.

Count. What hope is there of his Majefty's amend ment?

Laf. He hath abandon'd his Phyficians, Madam, under whose practices he hath perfecuted time with hope;

(1) whofe Worthiness would ftir it up where it wanted, rather than lack it where there is fuch abundance.] An Oppofition of Terms is vifibly defign'd in this Sentence; tho' the Oppofition is not fo visible, as the Terms now stand. Wanted and Abundance are the Oppofites to one another; but how is lack a Contraft to fir up? The Addition of a fingle Letter gives it, and the very Cenfe requires it. Mr. Warburton.

A 24

and

and finds no other advantage in the process, but only the lofing of hope by time.

Count. This young Gentlewoman had a Father, (O, that bad! how fad a paffage 'tis!) whofe skill was almost as great as his honefty; had it stretch'd so far, it would have made Nature immortal, and Death fhould have Play for lack of work. Would, for the King's fake, he were living! I think, it would be the death of the King's disease.

Laf. How call'd you the Man you fpeak of, Madam?

Count. He was famous, Sir, in his profeffion, and it was his great right to be fo: 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 liv'd ftill, if knowledge could be set up against mortality.

Ber. What is it, my good Lord, the King languishes of?

Laf. A fiftula, my Lord.

Ber. I heard not of it before.

Laf. I would, it were not notorious.

Was this

Gentlewoman the Daughter of Gerard de Narbon?

Count. His fole Child, my Lord, and bequeathed to my overlooking. I have thofe hopes of her good, that her education promifes her; difpofition, the inherits, which makes 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 Simplenefs; the derives her honefty, and atchieves her goodness.

Laf. Your commendations, Madam, get from her Tears.

Count. 'Tis the best brine, a maiden can feafon her praife in. The remembrance of her Father never approaches her heart, but the tyranny of her forrows takes all livelihood from her cheek. No more of this, Helena; go to, no more; left it be rather thought you affect a forrow, than to have

Hel. I do affect a forrow, indeed, but I have it too.

Laf.

Laf. Moderate lamentation is the Right of the Dead, exceffive grief the enemy to the Living.

Count. (2) If the living be not enemy to the grief, the excess makes it foon mortal.

Ber. Madam, I defire your holy withes.

Laf. How understand we that?

Count. Be thou bleft, Bertram, and fucceed thy Father

In manners as in fhape: thy blood and virtue
Contend for Empire in thee, and thy goodnefs
Share with thy birth-right! Love all, trust a few,
Do wrong to none: be able for thine enemy
Rather in power, than ufe; and keep thy friend
Under thy own life's key: be check'd for filence,
But never tax'd for fpeech. What Heav'n more will,
That thee may furnish, and my prayers pluck down,
Fall on thy head! Farewel, my Lord;

'Tis an unfeafon'd. Courtier, good my Lord,
Advise him.

Laf. He cannot want the best,

That fhall attend his love.

Count. Heav'n blefs him! Farewel, Bertram.

[Exit Countess

Ber. [To Hel] The beft wifhes, that can be forg'd in your thoughts, be fervants to you: be comfortable to my Mother, your Mistress, and make much of her. Laf. Farewel, pretty Lady, you must hold the credit of your Father. [Exeunt Ber. and Laf. Hel. Oh, were that all!I think not on my Fa

ther;

And thefe great Tears grace his remembrance more,
Than those I fhed for him. What was he like?
I have forgot him. My imagination
Carries no favour in it, but my Bertram's.

(2) If the living be Enemy to the Grief, the Excefs makes it foon mor tal] This feems very obfcure; but the Addition of a Negative perfectly difpels all the Mift. If the Living be not Enemy &c. Exceffive Grief is an Enemy to the Living, fays Lafeu: Yes, replies the Countess; and if the Living be not Enemy to the Grief, [i. e. ftrive to conquer it,] the Excefs makes it foon mortal. Mr. Warburton.

I

I am undone; there is no living, none,
If Bertram be away. It were all one
That I fhould love a bright partic'lar Star,
And think to wed it; he is fo above me:
In his bright radiance and collateral light
Muft I be comforted, not in his sphere.
Th' ambition in my love thus plagues it felf,
The hind, that would be mated by the lion,
Muft die for love. 'Twas pretty, tho' a plague,
To see him every hour; to fit and draw
His arched brows, his hawking eye, his curls,
In our heart's table: heart, too capable
Of every line and trick of his fweet favour!
But now he's gone, and my idolatrous fancy
Muft fanctifie his Relicks. Who comes here?

Enter Parolles.

One, that goes with him: I love him for his fake,
And yet I know him a notorious liar;

Think him a great way fool, folely a coward;
Yet these fix'd evils fit fo fit in him,

That they take place, when virtue's steely bones
Look bleak in the cold wind; full oft we fee
Cold wisdom waiting on fuperfluous folly.
Par. Save you, fair Queen.

Hel. And you, Monarch.

Par. No.

Hel. And, no.

Par. Are you meditating on virginity?

Hel. Ay you have fome ftain of foldier in you; let me ask you a queftion. Man is enemy to virginity, how may we barricado it against him?

Par. Keep him out.

Hel. But he affails; and our virginity, though valiant, in the defence yet is weak: unfold to us fome warlike refiftance.

Par. There is none: man, fetting down before you, will undermine you and blow you up.

Hel. Blefs our poor virginity from underminers and blowers up! Is there no military policy, how virgins might blow up men?

Par.

Par. Virginity being blown down, man will quicklier be blown up: marry, in blowing him down again, with the breach your felves made, you lofe your city. (3) It is not politick in the Commonwealth of nature, to preferve virginity. Lofs of virginity is rational increase; and there was never virgin got, 'till virginity was first loft. That, you were made of, is metal to make virgins. Virginity, by being once loft, may be ten times found: by being ever kept, it is ever loft; 'tis too cold a companion; away with't.

Hel. I will ftand for't a little, though therefore I die a Virgin.

Par. There's little can be faid in't; 'tis against the rule of nature. To speak on the part of virginity, is to accuse your Mother; which is moft infallible difobedience. He, that hangs himself, is a Virgin: virginity murthers it felf, and fhould be buried in highways out of all fanctified limit, as a defperate Offendrefs against nature. Virginity breeds mites; much like a cheese; confumes it felf to the very paring, and fo dies with feeding its own ftomach. Befides, virginity is peevish, proud, idle, made of felf-love, which is the moft prohibited fin in the Canon. Keep it not, you cannot chufe but lofe by't. Out with't; within ten years it will make it felf two, which is a goodly increafe, and the principal it felf not much the worse. Away with't.

Hel. How might one do, Sir, to lofe it to her own liking?

Par. Let me fee. Marry, ill, to like him that ne'er it likes. 'Tis a Commodity will lofe the glofs with lying. The longer kept, the lefs worth off with't, while 'tis vendible. Answer the time of request. Virginity, like an old courtier, wears her cap out of fashion; richly futed, but unfutable; juft like the

(3) It is not politick in the Commonwealth of Nature to preferwe Virgi nity. Lofs of Virginity is rational Increase; and there was never Virgin got, till Virginity was firft loft. The Context seems to me rather to require national Increafe; tho' I have not ventur'd to disturb the Text, as the other Reading will admit of a Meaning. brooch