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Could not drop forth such giant-rude invention,
Such Ethiop words, blacker in their effect
Than in their countenance :-Will you hear the
letter?

Sil. So please you, for I never heard it yet;
Yet heard too much of Phebe's cruelty.

Ros. She Phebesme:-Mark how the tyrant writes. Art thou god to shepherd turn'd,

That a maiden's heart hath burn'd?

Can a woman rail thus ?

Sil. Call you this railing?
Ros. Why, thy godhead laid apart,

Wari'st thou with a woman's heart?
Did you ever hear such railing!-

Whites the eye of man did woo me, That could do no vengeance to me.Meaning me a beast.

[Reads.

If the scorn of your bright cyne
Ilave power to raise such love i mine,
Alack, in me what strange effect
Would they work in mild aspect?
Whiles you chide me I did lore;
How then might your prayers move?
He, that brings this love to thee,
Little knows this love in me:
And by him seal up thy mind;
Whether that thy youth and kind
Will the faithful ofer take
Of me, and all that I can make;
Or else by him my love deny
And then Pll study how to die.

Sil. Call you this chiding?
Cel. Alas, poor shepherd!

Ros. Do you pity him? No, he deserves no pity. Wilt thou love such a woman ?-What, to make thee an instrument, and play false strains upon thee! Not to be endured -Well, go your way to her, (for, I see, love hath made thee a iame snake,) and say this to her;-That if she love me, I charge her to love thee: if she will not, I will never have her, unless thou entreat for her.--If you be a true lover, hence, and not a word; for here comes more company. [Exit Silvius.

Enter OLIVER.

Oli. Good-morrow, fair ones: Pray you, know

Where, in the purliens of this forest, stands, A sheep-cote, fenced about with olive-trees?

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Cel. West of this place, down in the neighbour bottom,

The rank of osiers, by the murmuing stream,
Left on your right hand, brings you to the place:
But at this hour the house doth keep itself,
There's none within.

Oli. If that an eye may profit by a tongue,
Then I should know you by description;
Such garments, and such years: The boy is fair,
Of female favour, and bestows himself
Like a ripe sister: but the woman low,
And browner than her brother. Are not you
The owner of the house I did enquire for?

Cel. It is no boast, being ask'd, to say, we are.
Oli. Orlando doth commend him to you both;
And to that youth, he calls his Rosalind,
He sends this bloody napkin); are you he?

Ros. I am what inust we understand by this? Oli. Some of my shame; if you will know of me What man I am, and how, and why, and where; This handkerchief was stain'd.

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Lay couching, head on ground, with catlike watch, When that the sleeping man should stir; for 'tis The royal disposition of that beast,

Το

prey on nothing that doth seeni as dead: This seen, Orlando did approach the man, And found it was his brother, his elder brother. Cel. O, I have heard him speak of that same brother;

And he did render him the most unnatural
That lived 'mongst men.

Oli. And well he might so do,

For well I know he was unnatural.

Ros. But, to Orland;-Did he leave him there, Food to the suck'd and hungry lioness?

Oli. Twice did he turn his back, and purposed so: But kindness, nobler ever than revenge, And nature, stronger than his just occasion, Made him give battle to the lioness,

Who quickly fell before him; in which hurtling From miserable slumber I awaked.

Cel. Are you his brother?

Ros. Was it you he rescued?

Cel. Was't you that did so oft contrive to kill

him?

Oli. 'Twas I; but 'tis not I: I do not shame
To tell you what I was, since my conversion
So sweetly tastes, being the thing I am.
Ros. But, for the bloody napkin ?—
Oli. By, and by.

When from the first to last, betwixt us two,
Tears our recountments had most kindly bathed,
As how I came into that desert place ;-
In brief, he led me to the gentle duke,
Who gave me fresh array and entertainment,
Committing me unto my brother's love;
Who led me instantly unto his cave,
There stripp'd himself, and here upon his arm
The lioness had torn some flesh away,
Which all this while had bled; and now he fainted
And cried, in fainting, upon Rosalind.
Brief, I recover'd him; bound up his wound;
And, after some small space, being strong at heart,
He sent me hither, stranger as 1 am,
To tell this story, that you might excuse
His broken promise, and to give this napkin,
Died in this blood, unto the shepherd youth
That he in sport doth call his Rosalind.

mede?

Cel. Why, how now, Ganymede? Sweet Gany
[Rosalind faints.
Oli. Many will swoon when they do look on blood.
Cel. There is more in it :-Cousin-Ganymede!
Oli. Look, he recovers.

Ros. I would, I were at home.
Cel. We'll lead you thither :-

I pray you, will you take him by the arm?
Oli. Be of good cheer, youth:-You a man!-
You lack a man's heart.

Ros. I do so, I confess it. Ah, Sir, a body would think this was well counterfeited: I pray you, tell your brother how well I counterfeited.-Heigh ho

Oli. This was not counterfeit; there is too great testimony in your complexion, that it was a passion of earnest.

Ros. Counterfeit, I assure you.

Oli. Well then, take a good heart, and counterfeit to be a man.

Ros. So I do: but, i' faith I should have beta woman by right.

Cel. Come, you look paler and paler; pray you draw homewards :-Good Sir, go with us.

Oli. That will I, for I must bear answer back How you excuse my brother, Rosalind. Ros. I shall devise something: but, I pray you commend my counterfeiting to him :--Will you go [Exeunt

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Enter WILLIAM.

Touch. It is meat and drink to me to see a clown; by my troth, we that have good wits, have much to answer for; we shall be flouting; we cannot hold. Will. Good even, Audrey.

And. God ye good even, William.
Will. And good even to you, Sir,

Touch. Good even, gentle friend: cover thy head, cover thy head; nay, pr'ythee, be covered. How old are you, friend?

Will. Five and twenty,

Sir.

Touch. A ripe age: is thy name, William?
Will. William, Sir.

Touch. A fair name: wast born i' the forest here?
Will. Ay, Sir, I thank God.

Touch. Thank God;—a good answer: Art rich? Will. 'Faith, Sir, so, so.

Touch. So, so, is good, very good, very excellent good:-And yet it is not; it is but so so. Art thou wise?

Will. Av, Sir, I have a pretty wit.

Touch. Why, thou say'st well. I do now rememher a saying; The fool doth think he is wise, but the vise man knows himself to be a fool. The heathen philosopher, when he had a desire to eat a grape, would open his lips when he put it into his mouth; meaning thereby, that grapes were made to eat, and lips to open. You do love this maid?

Will. I do, Sir.

Touch. Give ine your hand: Art thou learned ? Will. No, Sir.

Teach. Then learn this of me; to have, is to have: for it is a figure in rhetoric, that drink, being pour'd out of a cup into a glass, by filling the one doth empty the other: for all your waiters do consent, that ipse is he; now you are not ipse, for I am he. W. Which he, Sir?

Touch. He, Sir, that must marry this woman: therefore, you clown, abandon,-which is in the vulgar, leave, the society,-which in the boorish , company,-of this female,-which in the comIs-woman, which together is, abandon the Sty of this female; or, clown thou perishest; or ith better understanding, diest; to wit, I kill thee Bake thee away, translate thy life into death, thy liberty into bondage: I will deal in poison with thre, or in bastinado, or in steel; I will bandy with thee in faction; I will o'er-run thee with policy; I will kill thee a hundred and fifty ways; therefore tremble, and depart.

Aud. Do, good William.
Will. God rest you merry, Sir.

Enter CORIN.

[Exit.

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Orl. Is't possible, that on so little acquaintance you should like her? That, but seeing, you should ve her? And, loving, woo? And, wooing, she hould grant? And will you perséver to enjoy her? Oli. Neither call the giddiness of it in question, te poverty of her, the small acquaintance, my Hidden wooing, nor her sudden consenting; but ay with me, I love Aliena; say with her, that she es me; consent with both, that we may enjoy ch other: it shall be to your good; for my faer's house, and all the revenue that was old Sir Bowland's, will I estate upon you, and here live Gd die a shepherd.

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feited to swoon, when he shew'd me your handkerchief.

Orl. Ay, and greater wonders than that. Ros. O,I know where you are -Nay 's true: there was never any thing so sudden, but the fight of two rams, and Cæsar's thrasonical brag of-I came, saw, and overcame: for your brother and my sister no sooner met, but they look'd; no sooner look'd, but they loved; no sooner loved, but they sigh'd; no sooner sigli'd, but they ask'd one another the reason; no sooner knew the reason, but they sought the remedy: and in these degrees have they made a pair of stairs to marriage, which they will climb incontinent, or else be incontinent before marriage: they are in the very wrath of love, and they will together; clubs cannot part them.

Ort. They shall be married to morrow; and I will bid the duke to the nuptial. But, O, how bitter a thing it is to look into happiness through another man's eyes! By so much the more shall I to-morrow be at the height of heart-heaviness, by how much I shall think my brother happy, in having what he wishes for.

Ros. Why, then, to-morrow I cannot serve your turn for Rosalind?

Orl. I can live no longer by thinking.

Ros. I will weary you no longer then with idle talking. Know of me then, (for now I speak to some purpose,) that I know you are a gentleman of good conceit: I speak not this, that you should bear a good opinion of my knowledge, insomuch, I say, I know you are; neither do I labour for a greater esteem than may in some little measure draw a belief from you, to do yourself good, and not to grace me. Believe then, if you please, that I can do strange things: I have, since I was three years old, conversed with a magician, most profound in this art, and yet not damnable. If you do love Rosalind so near the heart as your gesture cries it out, when your brother marries Aliena, shall you marry her: I know into what straits of fortune she is driven; and it is not impossible to me, if it appear not, inconvenient to you, to set her before your eyes to-morrow, human as she is, and without any danger.

Orl. Speak'st thou in sober meanings.

Ros. By my life I do; which I tender dearly, though I say I am a magician: therefore, put you in your best array, bid your friends; for if you will be married to-morrow, you shall; and to Rosalind, if you will.

Enter SILVIUS and PBEBE.

Look, here comes a lover of mine, and a lover of hers.

Phe. Youth, you have done me much ungentle ness,

To shew the letter that I writ to you.

Ros. I care not, if I have: it is my study, To seem despiteful and ungentle to you: You are there follow'd by a faithful shepherd; Look upon him, love him; he worships you. Phe. Good shepherd, tell this youth what 'tis to love.

Sil. It is to be all made of sighs and tears ;--
And so am I for Phebe.

Phe. And I for Ganymede.
Orl. And I for Rosalind.
Ros. And I for no woman.

Sil. It is to be all made of faith and service;-
And so am I for Phebe.

Phe. And I for Ganymede.
Orl. And I for Rosalind.
Ros. And I for no woman.

Sil. It is to be all made of fantasy,
All made of passion, and all made of wishes;
All adoration, duty and observance,
All humbleness, all patience, and impatience,
All purity, all trial, all observance ;-
And so am I for Phebe.

Phe. And so am I for Ganymede.
Orl. And so am I for Rosalind.
Ros. And so am I for no woman.

Phe. If this be so, why blame you me to love
you?
[To Rosalind.

Sil. If this be so, why blame you me to love you? [To Phebe.

Orl. If this be so, why blame you me to love you!

* Invite.

Ros. Who do you speak to, why blame you me to love you?

Orl. To her, that is not here, nor doth not hear. Ros. Pray yon, no more of this; 'tis like the howling of Irish wolves against the moon.-I will help You, To Silvius] if I can :-I would love you, [To Phebe] if I could.-To-morrow meet me all to gether.-I will marry you, [To Phebe] it ever I marry woman, and I'll be married to-morrow:-1 will satisfy you, [To Orlando] if ever I satisfied man, and you shall be married to-morrow :--I will content you, [To Silvius] if what pleases you contents you, and you shall be married to-morrow. As you [To Orlando] love Rosalind, meet;-As you [To Silvius] love Phebe, meet; and as I love no woman, I'll meet.-So, fare you well; I have left you commands.

Sil. I'll not fail, if I live. Phe. Nor 1.

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1 Page. You are deceived, Sir; we kept time, we lost not our time.

Touch. By my troth, yes; I count it but time lost to hear such a foolish song. God be with you; and God mend your voices!-Come, Audrey. [Exeunt.

SCENE IV.-Another part of the Forest. Enter DUKE senior, AMIENS, JAQUES, ORLANDO, OLIVER, and CELIA.

Duke S. Dost thou believe, Orlando, that the boy Can do all this that he hath promised?

Orl. I sometimes do believe, and sometimes do not;

You say, If I bring in your Rosalind, [To the Duke. You will bestow her on Orlando here?

Duke S. That would I, had I kingdoms to give with her.

Ros. And you say, you will have her, when I bring her? [To Orlando. Orl. That would I were I of all kingdoms king. Ros. You say, you'll marry me, if I be willing. [To Phebe. Phe. That will I, should I die the hour after. Ros. But, if you do refuse to marry me, You'll give yourself to this most faithful shepherd ↑ Phe. So is the bargain.

Ros. You say, that you'll have Phebe, if she will? [To Silvius. Sil. Though to have her and death were both one thing.

Ros. I have promised to make all this matter even. Keep you your word, O duke, to give your daugh

ter;

You yours, Orlando, to receive his daughter :—
Keep your word, Phebe, that you'll marry me ;
Or else, refusing me, to wed this shepherd:-
Keep your word, Silvius, that you'll marry her,
If she refuse me :-and from hence I go,
To make these doubts all even.

[Exeunt Rosalind and Celia.
Duke S. I do remember in this shepherd-boy
Some lively touches of my daughter's favour.
Orl. My lord, the first time that I ever saw him,
Methought he was a brother to your daughter:
But, my good lord, this boy is forest born;
And hath been tutor❜d in the rudiments
Of many desprate studies by his uncle,
Whom he reports to be a great magician,
Obscured in the circle of this forest.

Enter TOUCHSTONE and AUDREY.

Jaq. There is sure, another flood toward, and these couples are coming to the ark! Here comes a pair of very strange beasts, which in all tongues are call'd fools.

Touch. Salutation and greeting to you all!

Jaq. Good my lord, bid him welcome; this is the motley-minded gentleman, that I have so often met in the forest: he hath been a courtier, he swears.

Touch. If any man doubt that, let him put me to ter'd a lady; I have been politic with my friend, my purgation. I have trod a measure; I have flatsmooth with mine enemy; I have undone three tailors; I have had four quarrels, and like to have fought one.

Jaq. And how was that ta'en up?

Touch. 'Faith, we met, and found the quarrel was upon the seventh cause.

Jaq. How seventh cause?-Good my lord, like this fellow.

Duke S. I like him very well.

Touch, God'ild you, Sir; I desire you of the like. I press in here, Sir, amongst the rest of the country copulatives, to swear, and to forswear; according as marriage binds, and blood breaks :-A poor virgin, Sir, an ill-favour'd thing, Sir, but mine own; a poor humour of mine, Sir, to take that that no man else will: rich honesty dwells like a miser, Sir, in a poor house; as your pearl, in your foul oyster. Duke S. By my faith, he is very swift and sen

téntious.

Touch. According to the fool's bolt, Sir, and such dulcet diseases.

Jaq. But, for the seventh cause; how did you find the quarrel on the seventh cause ?

Touch. Upon a lie seven times removed ;-Bear your body more seemingt, Audrey :-As thus, Sir. I did dislike the cut of á certain courtier's beard; he sent me word, if I said his beard was not cut well, he was in the mind it was: this is called the Retort courteous. If I sent him word again, it was not well cut, he would send me word, he cut it to please himself: this is called the Quip modest. If again, it was not well cut, he disabled my judg ment: this is call'd the Reply churlish. If again, it was not well cut, he would answer, I spake not true this is call'd the Reproof valiant. If again, it was not well cut, he would say, I lie: this is called the Countercheck quarrelsome and so to the Lie circumstantial, and the Lie direct.

As those that fear they hope, and know they fear.
Enter ROSALIND, SILVIUS, and PHEEE.
Ros. Patience once more, whiles our compact is well cut?
urged :-

A married woman.

Jaq. And how oft did you say, his beard was not Touch. I durst go no further than the Lie cir + Seemly.

A stately solemn dance.

cumstantial, nor he durst not give me the Lie direct; and so we measured swords and parted. Jaq. Can you nominate in order now the degrees

of the lie ?

Touch. O Sir, we quarrel in print, by the book; as you have books for good manners: I will name you the degrees. The first, the Retort courteous; the second, the Quip modest; the third, the Reply churlish; the fourth, the Reproof valiant; the fifth, the Countercheck quarrelsome; the sixth, the Lie with circumstance; the seventh, the Lie direct. All these you may avoid, but the Lie direct; and you may avoid that too, with an If. I knew when Seven justices could not take up a quarrel; but when the parties were met themselves, one of them thought but of an If, as, if you said so, then I said sa; and they shook hands, and swore brothers. Your If is the only peace-maker; much virtue in If. Jaq. Is not this a rare fellow, my lord? He's as good at any thing, and yet a fool.

Duke S. He uses his folly like a stalking-horse, and under the presentation of that, he shoots his

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Enter HYMEN, leading ROSALIND in Woman's Clothes; and CELIA.

Still Music.

Hym. Then is there mirth in heaven,
When earthly things made even
Atone together.

Good Duke, receive thy daughter,
Hymen from heaven brought her,

Yea, brought her hither;

That thou might'st join her hand with his,
Whose heart within her bosom is.

Res. To you I give myself, for I am yours.

(To Duke S. To you I give myself, for I am yours. [To Orlando. Duke S. If there be truth in sight, you are my daughter.

Orl. If there be truth in sight, you are my Rosa

lind.

Phe. If sight and shape be true,

Why then, my love adieu!

Res. I'll have no father, if you be not he :[To Duke S. I'll have no husband, if you be not he :[To Orlando. Nor ne'er wed woman, if you be not she. [To Phebe. Hym. Peace, ho! 1 bar confusion:

'Tis I must make conclusion
Of these most strange events:
Here's eight that must take hands,
To join in Hymen's bands,

If truth holds true contents".
You and you no cross shall part:

[To Orlando and Rosalind. You and you are heart in heart:

[To Oliver and Celia. You [To Phebe] to his love must accord, Or have a woman to your lord :You and you are sure together,

Enter JAQUES DR Bois.

Jaq. de B. Let me have audience for a word, or
two;

That bring these tidings to this fair assembly :-
I am the second son of old Sir Rowland,
Duke Frederick, hearing how that every day
Men of great worth resorted to this forest,
Address'd a mighty power; which were on foot,
In his own conduct, purposely to take
His brother here, and put him to the sword:
And to the skirts of this wild wood he came ;
Where, meeting with an old religious man,
After some question with him, was converted
Both from his enterprize, and from the world:
His crown bequeathing to his banish'd brother,
And all their lands restored to them again
That were with him exiled:-Thus to be true,
I do engage my life.

Duke S. Welcome, young man ;

To one, his lands with-held; and to the other,
Thou offer'st fairly to thy brother's wedding:
A land itself at large, a potent dukedom.
First, in this forest, let us do those ends
That here were well begun, and well begot:
And after, every of this happy number,
That have endured shrewd days and nights with us,
Shall share the good of our returned fortune,
According to the measure of their states.
Meantime, forget this new-fall'n dignity,
And fall into our rustic revelry:-

Play, music;-and you brides and bridegrooms all,
With measure heap'd in joy, to the measures fall.
Jaq. Sir, by your patience: ifI heard you rightly,
The duke hath put on a religious life,

And thrown into neglect the pompous court?
Jaq. de B. He hath.

Jaq. To him will I: out of these convertites
There is much matter to be heard and learn'd.-
You to your former honour I bequeath;

[To Duke S. Your patience, and your virtue, well deserves it: You [To Orlando] to a love, that your true faith doth merit:

You [To Oliver] to your land, and love, and great allies:

You [To Silvius] to a long and well deserved bed ;-
And you [To Touchstone] to wrangling; for thy
loving voyage
Is but for two months victual'd:-So to your plea-

sures;

I am for other than for dancing measures.
Duke S. Stay, Jaques, stay.

Jaq. To see no pastime, I:-What you would have I'll stay to know at your abandon'd cave. [Exit. Duke S. Proceed, proceed; we will begin these rites,

And we do trust they'll end, in true delights.

EPILOGUE.

[A dance.

Ros. It is not the fashion to see the lady the epilogue but it is no more unhandsome, than to see the lord the prologue. If it be true, that good wine [To Touchstone and Audrey. needs no bush, 'tis true, that a good play needs no

As the winter to foul weather,
Whiles a wedlock-hymn we sing,
Feed yourselves with questioning;
That reason wonder may diminish,
How thus we met, and these things finish.
SONG.

Wedding is great Juno's crown;

O blessed bond of board and bed!
'Tis Hymen peoples every town ;
High wedlock then be honoured:
Honour, high honour and renown,
To Hymen, god of every town!

Dake S. O my dear niece, welcome thou art to me; Even daughter, welcome in no less degree.

Phe. I will not eat my word, now thou art mine; Thy faith my fancy to thee doth combine t.

• Unless truth fails of veracity.

[To Silvius.

+ Bind.

epilogue:-Yet to good wine they do use good bushes; and good plays prove the better by the help of good epilogues. What a case am I in then, that am neither a good epilogue, nor cannot insinuate with you in the behalf of a good play? I am not furnish'd like a beggar, therefore to beg will not become me: my way is, to conjure you; and I'll begin with the women. I charge you, O women, for the love you bear to men, to like as much of this play as please them: and so I charge you, O men, for the love you bear to women, (as I perceive by your simpering, none of you hate them,) that between you and the women, the play may of you as had beards that pleased me, complexions please. If I were a woman, I would kiss as many that liked me, and breaths that I defied not: and, I am sure, as many as have good beards, or good faces, or sweet breaths, will, for my kind offer, when I make curt'sy, bid me farewell. [Exeunt.

• Dressed.

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SCENE I.—Rousillon.—A Room in the COUNTESS'S
Palace.

Enter BERTRAM, the Countess of ROUSILLON, HE-
LENA, and LAFEU, in mourning.

Count. In 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 attend 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 vir tue 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, (0, 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.

Laf. How call'd 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. Your commendations, madam, get from her

tears.

Count. 'Tis the best brine a maiden can season her praise in. The remembrance of her father neSorrows takes all livelihood from her cheek. No ver approaches her heart, but the tyranny of her 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, Lut I bave it too.

Laf. Moderate lamentation is the right of the dead, excessive grief the enemy to the living. Count. If the living be eneniy to the grief, the excess makes it soon mortal.

Ber. Madam, I desire your holy wishes.
Laf. How understand we that?

Count. 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 birth-right! 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 furnisht, and my prayers pluck
down,
Fall on thy head! Farewell.-My lord,
Tis an unseason'd courtier; good my lord,
Advise him.

Laj. He cannot want the best That shall attend his love. Count. Heaven bless him!-Farewell, Bertram. [Exit Count: $5. Ber. The best wishes, that can be forged in your thoughts, [To Helena] be servants to you! Be comLaf. He was excellent, indeed, madam; the kingfortable to my mother, your mistress, and make very lately spoke of him, admiringly, and mourn much of her. ingly 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.

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 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.

• Under his particular care, as my guardian. The countess recollects her own loss of a husband, and observes how heavily had passes through her mind.

Qualities of good breeding and erudition. i.c. Her excellencies are better because they are artless.

Laf. Farewell, pretty lady: you must hold the
credit of your father.
[Exeunt Bertram and Lafer.
Hel. 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 it, but Bertram's.
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
His arched brows, his hawking eye, his curls,

All appearance of life.

i.c. That may help thee with more and better qualifications.

i. e. May you be mistress of your wishes, and have power to bring them to effect.

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