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Parolles, a parafitical follower of Bertram; a coward, but vain, and a great pretender to valour.
Several young French Lords, that ferve with Bertram in the Florentine war.
Servants to the Countess of Roufillon.
Countess of Roufillon, mother to Bertram.
Helena, daughter to Gerard de Narbon, a famous phyfician, fome time fince dead.
An old widow of Florence.
Violenta, Neighbours, and friends to the widow.
Lords, attending on the King; Officers, Soldiers, &c.
SCENE lies partly in France; and, partly in Tuscany.
ALL'S Well, that ENDS Well.
A CT T I.
SCENE, The Countess of Roufillon's House in France.
Enter Bertram, the Countess of Roufillon, Helena, and Lafeu, all in Mourning.
N delivering my fon from me, I bury a fecond hufband.
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 fubjection.
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 worthinefs would ftir it up where it wanted, rather than flack it where there is fuch abundance.
(1) whofe Worthiness would ftir it up where it wanted, rather than lack it where there is fuck Abundance.] An Oppofition of Terms is visibly defign'd in this Sentence; tho' the Opposition is not fo vifible, as the Terms now ftand. Wanted and Abundance are the Oppofites to one another; but how is lack a Contraft to stir up? The Addition of a single Letter gives it, and the very Senfe requires it. MI. Warburton.
Count. What hope is there of his Majefty's amend
Laf. He hath abandon'd his phyficians, Madam, under whofe practices he hath perfecuted time with hope; and finds no other advantage in the procefs, but only the lofing of hope by time.
Count. This young gentlewoman had a father, (O, that had! how fad a paffage 'tis !) whofe skill was almoft as great as his honefty; had it stretch'd fo far, it would have made nature immortal, and death should have play'd 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 speak 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 fpoke of him admiringly, and mourningly: he was skilful enough to have liv'd ftill, if knowledge could be fet 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 promises her; difpofition fhe 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 fimpleness; fhe derives her honefly, and atchieves her goodness.
Laf. Your commendations, Madam, get from her
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