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    Alls well that ends well
    Alls well that ends well
    Alls well that ends well
    Ebook145 pages1 hour

    Alls well that ends well

    By William Shakespeare

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    William Shakespeare - Alls Well That Ends Well is a play by William Shakespeare. It is believed to have been written between 1604 and 1605, and was originally published in the First Folio in 1623.Though originally the play was classified as one of Shakespeares comedies, the play is now considered by some critics to be one of his problem plays, so named because they cannot be neatly classified as tragedy or comedy.
    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherWilliam Shakespeare
    Release dateSep 18, 2016
    ISBN9788822846174
    Author

    William Shakespeare

    William Shakespeare is the world's greatest ever playwright. Born in 1564, he split his time between Stratford-upon-Avon and London, where he worked as a playwright, poet and actor. In 1582 he married Anne Hathaway. Shakespeare died in 1616 at the age of fifty-two, leaving three children—Susanna, Hamnet and Judith. The rest is silence.

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      Book preview

      Alls well that ends well - William Shakespeare

      ALLS WELL THAT ENDS WELL

      by William Shakespeare

      Dramatis Personae

      KING OF FRANCE

      THE DUKE OF FLORENCE

      BERTRAM, Count of Rousillon

      LAFEU, an old lord

      PAROLLES, a follower of Bertram

      TWO FRENCH LORDS, serving with Bertram

      STEWARD, Servant to the Countess of Rousillon

      LAVACHE, a clown and Servant to the Countess of Rousillon

      A PAGE, Servant to the Countess of Rousillon

      COUNTESS OF ROUSILLON, mother to Bertram

      HELENA, a gentlewoman protected by the Countess

      A WIDOW OF FLORENCE.

      DIANA, daughter to the Widow

      VIOLENTA, neighbour and friend to the Widow

      MARIANA, neighbour and friend to the Widow

      Lords, Officers, Soldiers, etc., French and Florentin

      SCENE: Rousillon; Paris; Florence; Marseilles

      ACT I. SCENE 1. Rousillon. The COUNT'S palace

      Enter BERTRAM, the COUNTESS OF ROUSILLON, HELENA, and LAFEU, all in black

      COUNTESS. In delivering my son from me, I bury a second

      husband.

      BERTRAM. 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.

      LAFEU. 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.

      COUNTESS. What hope is there of his Majesty's amendment?

      LAFEU. He hath abandon'd 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.

      COUNTESS. This young gentlewoman had a father- O, that 'had,'

      how

      sad a passage 'tis!-whose skill was almost as great as his

      honesty; had it stretch'd 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.

      LAFEU. How call'd you the man you speak of, madam?

      COUNTESS. He was famous, sir, in his profession, and it was his

      great right to be so- Gerard de Narbon.

      LAFEU. He was excellent indeed, madam; the King very lately

      spoke

      of him admiringly and mourningly; he was skilful enough to

      have

      liv'd still, if knowledge could be set up against mortality.

      BERTRAM. What is it, my good lord, the King languishes of?

      LAFEU. A fistula, my lord.

      BERTRAM. I heard not of it before.

      LAFEU. I would it were not notorious. Was this gentlewoman the

      daughter of Gerard de Narbon?

      COUNTESS. 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 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 simpleness; she

      derives

      her honesty, and achieves her goodness.

      LAFEU. Your commendations, madam, get from her tears.

      COUNTESS. '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-

      HELENA. I do affect a sorrow indeed, but I have it too.

      LAFEU. Moderate lamentation is the right of the dead: excessive

      grief the enemy to the living.

      COUNTESS. If the living be enemy to the grief, the excess makes

      it

      soon mortal.

      BERTRAM. Madam, I desire your holy wishes.

      LAFEU. How understand we that?

      COUNTESS. Be thou blest, Bertram, and succeed thy father

      In manners, as in shape! Thy blood and virtue

      Contend for empire in thee, and thy goodness

      Share with thy birthright! Love all, trust a few,

      Do wrong to none; be able for thine enemy

      Rather in power than use, and keep thy friend

      Under thy own life's key; be check'd for silence,

      But never tax'd for speech. What heaven more will,

      That thee may furnish, and my prayers pluck down,

      Fall on thy head! Farewell. My lord,

      'Tis an unseason'd courtier; good my lord,

      Advise him.

      LAFEU. He cannot want the best

      That shall attend his love.

      COUNTESS. Heaven bless him! Farewell, Bertram. Exit

      BERTRAM. The best wishes that can be forg'd in your thoughts be

      servants to you! [To HELENA] Be comfortable to my mother,

      your

      mistress, and make much of her.

      LAFEU. Farewell, pretty lady; you must hold the credit of your

      father. Exeunt BERTRAM and LAFEU

      HELENA. O, were that all! I think not on my father;

      And these great tears grace his 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.

      I am undone; there is no living, none,

      If Bertram be away. 'Twere 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.

      Th' 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

      His arched brows, his hawking eye, his curls,

      In our heart's table-heart too capable

      Of every line and trick of his sweet favour.

      But now he's gone, and my idolatrous fancy

      Must sanctify his relics. Who comes here?

      Enter PAROLLES

      [Aside] One that goes with him. I love him for his sake;

      And yet I know him a notorious liar,

      Think him a great way fool, solely a coward;

      Yet these fix'd evils sit so fit in him

      That they take place when virtue's steely bones

      Looks bleak i' th' cold wind; withal, full oft we see

      Cold wisdom waiting on superfluous folly.

      PAROLLES. Save you, fair queen!

      HELENA. And you, monarch!

      PAROLLES. No.

      HELENA. And no.

      PAROLLES. Are you meditating on virginity?

      HELENA. 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?

      PAROLLES. Keep him out.

      HELENA. But he assails; and our virginity, though valiant in

      the

      defence, yet is weak. Unfold to us some warlike resistance.

      PAROLLES. There is none. Man, setting down before you, will

      undermine you and blow you up.

      HELENA. Bless our poor virginity from underminers and

      blowers-up!

      Is there no military policy how virgins might blow up men?

      PAROLLES. 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 make virgins.

      Virginity

      by being once lost may be ten times found; by being ever

      kept, it

      is ever lost. 'Tis too cold a companion; away with't.

      HELENA. I will stand for 't a little, though therefore I die a

      virgin.

      PAROLLES. There's little can be said in 't; 'tis against the

      rule

      of nature. To

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