Sind nun auch die Herausgeber über die Identität von All's Well that Ends Well und Love's Labour's Won ziemlich einig, so scheiden sich doch ihre Meinungen in der Frage nach dem chronologischen Verhältnisse der beiden erwähnten Titel zu einander. Nach der einen Ansicht schrieb der Dichter zuerst Love's Labour's Won als ein Jugenddrama und als ein Gegenstück zu seinem Love's Labour's Lost, und in dieser Gestalt hatte Meres es aufführen sehen; später arbeitete Shakspere das Drama dann um und gab ihm den neuen Titel All's Well that Ends Well, und in dieser Gestalt ging es in die Folioausgabe von 1623 über. - Nach der andern Ansicht, welche, in Ermangelung aller äussern oder innern Zeugnisse zu Gunsten der ersteren, als die wahrscheinlichere gelten muss, hat Shakspere das Stück überhaupt nur einmal geschrieben, so dass also entweder später nur der eine Titel mit dem andern vertauscht worden ist, oder, wie in dem Falle von TwelfthNight or What you will, das Stück gleichzeitig beide Titel geführt hat, von denen Meres den einen, die Editoren der Folioausgabe den andern angeführt, obwohl Beide dasselbe Werk in derselben Bearbeitung vor sich hatten. Wenn nach der ersten Ansicht eine doppelte Textrecension des Stückes bestanden hat, so kann von der früheren, vor 1598 vorhandenen, schwerlich viel in die uns in der Folioausgabe vorliegende spätere Textgestaltung von dem Dichter mit hinübergenommen sein: der Styl und Vers unterscheiden sich in ihrer charakteristischen Eigenthümlichkeit durchgängig und in allen Theilen des Dramas zu auffallend von dem Styl und Verse der Shakspere'schen Jugendarbeiten; der Dichter müsste also das Ganze vollständig neugearbeitet haben. Eben diese stylistischen und metrischen Merkmale führen aber, bei der Annahme einer nur einmaligen Bearbeitung, auf die Vermuthung, dass All's Well that Ends Well erst kurz vor 1598 geschrieben sein kann; ja, sollte, was freilich kaum denkbar erscheint, das von Meres erwähnte Love's Labour's Won in der That ein anderes uns auffallender Weise verloren gegangenes Drama unseres Dichters gewesen sein, so liesse sich aus inneren Gründen eher auf ein noch späteres Datum der Abfassung von All's Well that Ends Well schliessen, wie denn z. B. Malone, freilich auf eine sehr vage Deutung muthmasslicher Anspielungen hin, das Jahr 1606 dafür annimmt.

Den Stoff zu seinem Drama entlehnte Shakspere aus der vielfach von ihm benutzten Novellensammlung William Paynter's, welche unter dem Titel The Palace of Pleasure in zwei Bänden, 1566 und 1567, erschienen war. Paynter hatte die betreffende Novelle, die achtunddreissigste seines ersten Bandes, aus dem Italienischen des Boccaccio übersetzt, in dessen Decameron sie sich als die neunte des dritten Tages findet. Die eigentliche Charakteristik blieb, wie in andern Fällen einer dramatischen Bearbeitung novellistischer Stoffe, unserm Dichter ausschliesslich vorbehalten;

auch sind mehrere Figuren, und zwar gerade die gelungensten, wie die alte Gräfin von Rousillon, Lafeu, Parolles, der Clown, von Shakspere hinzugefügt, ohne dass die Novelle ihm auch nur, wie bei den übrigen, ein schwaches Vorbild dazu geboten hätte. Da er jedoch im Ganzen und Grossen dem Gange der Erzählung, wie er sie bei Paynter vorfand, gefolgt ist, so erscheint zur Vergleichung ein Abdruck der Novelle Giletta of Narbona aus The Palace of Pleasure an dieser Stelle gerechtfertigt.

In Fraunce there was a gentleman called Isnardo, the counte of Rossiglione, who bicause he was sickly and diseased, kepte alwaies in his house a phisicion, named maister Gerardo of Narbona. This counte had one onely sonne called Beltramo, a verie yonge childe, pleasaunt and faire. With whom there was nourished and broughte up, many other children of his age: emonges whom one of the doughters of the said phisicion, named Giletta, who ferventlie fill in love with Beltramo, more then was meete for a maiden of her age. This Beltramo, when his father was dedde, and left under the roial custodie of the kyng, was sente to Paris, for whose departure the maiden was verie pensife. A little while after, her father beyng likewise dedde, she was desirous to goe to Paris, onely to see the younge counte, if for that purpose she could gette any good occasion. But beyng diligently looked unto by her kinsfolke (bicause she was riche and fatherlesse) she could see no conveniente waie for her intended journey: and being now mariageable, the love she bare to the counte was never out of her remembraunce, and refused many husbandes with whom her kinsfolke would have placed her, without making them privie to the occasion of her refusall. Now it chaunced that she burned more in love with Beltramo than ever she did before, bicause she heard tell that hee was growen to the state of a goodly yonge gentlemanne. She heard by reporte, that the Frenche kyng had a swellyng upon his breast, whiche by reason of ill cure was growen to a fistula, and did putte him to merveilous paine and grief, and that there was no phisicion to be founde (although many were proved) that could heale it, but rather did impaire the grief and made it worsse and worsse. Wherfore the kyng, like one that was in dispaire, would take no more counsaill or helpe. Wherof the yonge maiden was wonderfull glad, and thought to have by this meanes, not onelie a lawfull occasion to goe to Paris, but if the disease were suche (as she supposed,) easely to bryng to passe that she might have the counte Beltramo to her husbande. Whereupon with suche knowledge as she had learned at her fathers handes before time, shee made a pouder of certain herbes, whiche she thought meete for that disease, and rode to Paris. And the first thing she went about when she came thither was to see the counte Beltramo. And then she repaired to the kyng, praying his grace to vouchsaufe to shewe her his disease. The kyng

perceivyng her to be a faire yonge maiden and a comelie, would not hide it, but opened the same unto her. So soone as she sawe it, shee putte hym in comforte, that she was able to heale hym, saiyng: „Sire, if it shall please your grace, I trust in God without any paine or grief unto your highnesse, within eighte daies I will make you whole of this disease." The kyng hearyng her saie so, began to mocke her, saiyng: „How is it possible for thee, beyng a yong woman, to doe that whiche the best renoumed phisicions in the worlde can not?" He thanked her for her good will, and made her a directe answere, that he was determined no more to followe the counsaile of any phisicion. Whereunto the maiden answered: „Sire, you dispise my knowledge bicause I am yonge and a woman, but I assure you that I doe not minister phisicke by profession, but by the aide and helpe of God: and with the cunnyng of maister Gerardo of Narbona, who was my father, and a phisicion of greate fame so longe as he lived." The kyng hearyng those wordes, saied to hymself: „This woman, peradventure, is sent unto me of God, and therefore why should I disdain to prove her cunnyng? sithens she promiseth to heale me within a litle space, without any offence or grief unto me." And beyng determined to prove her, he said: „Damosell. if thou doest not heale me, but make me to breake my determinacion, what wilt thou shall folowe thereof.“ „Sire," saied the maiden: „Let me be kept in what guarde and kepyng you list: and if I dooe not heale you within these eight daies, let me bee burnte: but if I doe heale your grace what recompence shall I have then? To whom the kyng answered: „Bicause thou art a maiden and unmaried, if thou heale me accordyng to thy promisse, I will bestowe thee upon some gentleman, that shalbe of right good worship and estimacion." To whom she answeared: „Sire, I am verie well content that you bestowe me in mariage: but I will have suche a husbande as 1 my self shall demaunde, without presumpcion to any of your children or other of your bloudde." Whiche requeste the kyng incontinently graunted. The yong maiden began to minister her phisicke, and in shorte space before her appoincted tyme, she had throughly cured the kyng. And when the king perceived himself whole, said unto her: Thou hast well deserved a husbande (Giletta) even suche a one as thy selfe shalt chose." "I have then my lorde (quod she) deserved the countie Beltramo of Rossiglione, whom I have loved from my youthe." The kyng was very lothe to graunte hym unto her: but bicause he had made a promis which he was lothe to breake, he caused hym to be called forthe, and saied unto hym: „Sir counte, bicause you are a gentleman of greate honor, our pleasure is, that you retourne home to your owne house, to order your estate according to your degree: and that you take with you a damosell whiche I have appoincted to be your wife.“ To whom the counte gave his humble thankes, and demaunded what she was? "It is she (quoth the kyng) that with her medecines had healed me." The

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counte knewe her well, and had alredie seen her, although she was faire, yet knowing her not to be of a stocke convenable to his nobilitie, disdainfullie said unto the king, "Will you then (sir) give me a phisicion to wife? It is not the pleasure of God that ever I should in that wise bestowe my self." To whom the kyng said: "Wilt thou then, that we should breake our faithe, whiche we to recover healthe have given to the damosell, who for a rewarde thereof asked thee to husband?" Sire (quoth Beltramo) you maie take from me al that I have, and give my persone to whom you please, bicause I am your subject: but I assure you I shall never be contented with that mariage." "Well, you shall have her (saied the kyng) for the maiden is faire and wise, and loveth you moste intirely: thinkyng verelie you shall leade a more joyfull life with her, then with a ladie of a greater house.“ The counte therewithal helde his peace, and the king made great preparacion for the mariage. And when the appoincted daie was come, the counte in the presence of the kyng (although it were againste his will) maried the maiden, who loved hym better then her owne self. Whiche dooen, the counte determinyng before what he would doe, praied licence to retourne to his countrie to consummat the mariage. And when he was on horsebacke he went not thither, but tooke his journey into Thuscane, where understandyng that the Florentines and Senois were at warres, he determined to take the Florentines parte, and was willinglie received and honourablie interteigned, and made capitaine of a certaine nomber of men, continuyng in their service a longe tyme. The newe maried gentlewoman, scarce contented with that, and hopyng by her well doyng to cause hym to retourne into his countrie, went to Rossiglione, where she was received of all his subjectes for their ladie. And perceivyng that through the countes absence all thinges were spoiled and out of order, she like a sage lady, with greate diligence and care, disposed all thynges in order againe: whereof the subjectes rejoysed verie muche, bearyng to her their hartie love and affection, greatlie blamyng the counte bicause he could not contente himself with her. This notable gentlewoman having restored all the countrie againe, sent worde thereof to the counte her husbande, by two knightes of the countrie, whiche she sent to signifie unto hym, that if it were for her sake that he had abandoned his countrie, he should sende her worde thereof, and she to doe hym pleasure, would depart from thence. To whom he chorlishlie saied: „Lette her doe what she list: for I doe purpose to dwell with her, when she shall have this ryng (meanyng a ryng which he wore) upon her finger, and a soonne in her armes begotten by me." He greatly loved that ryng, and kepte it verie carefullie, and never tooke it of from his finger, for a certaine vertue that he knewe it had. The knightes hearyng the harde condicion of twoo thinges impossible: and seyng that by them he could not be removed from his determinacion, thei retourned againe to the ladie, tellinge her his answere:

who, verie sorowfull, after she hadde a good while bethought herself, purposed to finde meanes to attaine to those twoo thynges, to the intente that thereby she might recover her husbande. And havyng advised with her self what to doe, she assembled the noblest and chiefest of her countrie, declaring unto them in lamentable wise what shee had alredie dooen, to winne the love of the counte, shewyng them also what folowed thereof. And in the ende saied unto them, that she was lothe the counte for her sake should dwell in perpetuall exile: therefore she determined to spende the rest of her tyme in pilgrimages and devocion, for preservacion of her soule, praiyng them to take the charge and governemente of the countrie, and that they would lette the counte understande, that she had forsaken his house, and was removed farre from thence: with purpose never to retourne to Rossiglione againe. Many teares were shedde by the people, as she was speakyng these wordes, and divers supplicacions were made unto him to alter his opinion, but al in vaine. Wherefore commending them all unto God, she tooke her waie with her maide, and one of her kinsemen, in the habite of a pilgrime, well furnished with silver and precious jewelles: tellyng no man whither shee wente, and never rested till she came to Florence: where arrivyng by fortune at a poore widowes house, she contented her self with the state of a poore pilgrime, desirous to here newes of her lorde, whom by fortune she sawe the next daie passing by the house (where she lay) on horsebacke with his companie. And although she knewe him well enough, yet she demaunded of the good wife of the house what he was: who answered that he was a straunge gentleman, called the counte Beltramo of Rossiglione, a curteous knighte, and wel beloved in the citie, and that he was merveilously in love with a neighbor of hers, that was a gentlewoman, verie poore and of small substaunce, neverthelesse of right honest life and report, and by reason of her povertie was yet unmaried, and dwelte with her mother, that was a wise and honest ladie. The countesse well notyng these wordes, and by litle and litle debatyng every particular point thereof, comprehendyng the effecte of those newes, concluded what to doe, and when she had well understanded whiche was the house, and the name of the ladie, and of her doughter that was beloved of the counte: upon a daie repaired to the house secretelie in the habite of a pilgrime, where finding the mother and doughter in poore estate emonges their familie, after she hadde saluted them, tolde the mother that she had to saie unto her. The gentlewoman risyng up, curteouslie interteigned her, and beyng entred alone into a chamber, thei satte doune, and the countesse began to saie unto her in this wise. „Madame, me thinke that ye be one upon whom fortune doeth frowne, so well as upon me: but if you please, you maie bothe comfort me and your self." The ladie answered, That there was nothyng in the worlde whereof she was more desirous then of honest comforte." The countesse procedyng in her talke, saied unto