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 ;

Ail 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.

Ros. Who do you speak to, "why blame you me to love you?" [hear. Orl. To her, that is not here, nor doth not Ros. Pray you, 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 together.-I will marry you, [to PHEBE if ever I marry woman, and I'll be married to-morrow:-I 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.

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? [not; Orl. I sometimes do believe, and sometimes do As those that fear, they hope, and know they fear.

Enter ROSALIND, SILVIUS, and PHEBE. Ros. Patience once more, whiles our compact is You say, if I bring in your Rosalind, [urg'd : [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? [10 PHEBE.

Phe. That will I, should I die the hour after. Ros. But, if you do refuse to marry me, [herd? You'll give yourself to this most faithful shepPhe. 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. [even.

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

daughter ;

You, yours, Orlando, to receive his daughter :—
Keep you 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 desperate 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 come 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 my purgation. I have trod a measure ;* I have flattered a lady; I have been politic with my friend, smooth 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.

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

Duke S. I like him very well.

Touch. Sir; I desire you of the like. I press in here, sir, amongst the rest of the country folks, to swear, and to forswear; according as marriage binds, and blood breaks. A poor virgin, sir, an ill-favoured 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. [sententious. Duke S. By my faith, he is very swift and Touch. According to the fool's bolt, sir. 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 seeming, Audrey :-as thus, sir. I did dislike the cut of a 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 call'd 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 call'd the "Quip modest." If again, it was not well cut, he disabled my judgment. This is called the "Reply churlish." If again, it was not well cut, he would answer, I spake not true. This is called the "Reproof valiant." If again, it was not well cut, he would say, I lie. This is call'd the "Countercheck quarrelsome:" and so to the "Lie circumstantial," and the "Lie direct."

Jaq. And how oft did you say, his beard was not well cut.

Touch. I durst go no further than the "Lie circumstantial," nor he durst not give me the "Lie direct:" and so we measur'd 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 so;" 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.

A stately, solemn dance.

+ Unless truth fail of veracity.

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

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. Ros. 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. [Rosalind. Orl. If there be truth in sight, you are my Phe. If sight and shape be true, Why, then,-my love adieu !

Ros. 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. [70 РНЕВЕ.

Hym. Peace, ho! I 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 PHE.] to his love must accord,
Or have a woman to your lord:
You and you are sure together,

[To TOUCHSTONE and AUDREY.
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!
Duke S. O my dear niece, welcome thou art
Even daughter, welcome in no less degree. [mine,
Phe. I will not eat my word; now thou art
Thy faith my fancy to thee doth combine.

to me;

[TO SILVIUS.

Enter JAQUES DE BOIS. Jaques de B. Let me have audience for a word or I am the second son of old Sir Rowland, [two; That bring these tidings to this fair assembly: 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

[us,

Both from his enterprise, and from the world:
His crown bequeathing to his banish'd brother,
And all their lands restor'd to them again,
That were with him exil'd. This to be true,
I do engage my life.
Duke S.
Welcome, young man;
Thou offer'st fairly to thy brothers' wedding:
To one, his lands withheld; and to the other,
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 endur'd shrewd days and nights with
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
With measure heap'd in joy, to th' measures fall.
Jaq. Sir, by your patience; If I heard you
The duke hath put on a religious life, [rightly,
And thrown into neglect the pompous court?
Jaq. de B. He hath.

[all,

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 deserve 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

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 needs no bush," 'tis true that a good play needs no 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 pleases them: and so I charge you, O men, for the love you bear to women, (as I perceive by your simp'ring, none of you hate them,) that between you and the women, the play may please. If I were a woman, I would kiss as many of you as had beards that pleas'd me, complexions that lik'd me: and, I am sure, as many as have good beards, or good faces, will, for my kind offer. when I make curt'sy, bid me farewell. [Exeunt.

INTRODUCTION TO ALL'S THE story of Love's Labour's Won is to be found in Boccacio; but Shakespeare derived it from a translation in Painter's Palace of Pleasure, 1566. The leading features of this tale have been adopted by Shakespeare, with scarcely any variations; but the comic scenes in the play are original.

Love's Labour's Won relates the conquest of a passionate, resistless affection, over the difficulties caused by a great disparity of station-difficulties which were greatly augmented by the family pride of the person beloved. The baneful feeling of contempt arising from this source, is confessed by Bertram to have been the reason why Helena's love was not returned; and his subdued affection was converted into scorn by a compelled marriage. His pride is offended by compulsion, and he becomes the victim of eaprice, seeking to heal his wounded self-esteem by change of scene and action. There is much of the mixture of character in this play. To use the words of the poet himself-"The web of our life is of a mingled yarn, good and ill together: our virtues would be proud, if our faults whipp'd them not; and our crimes would despair, if

" Dr.

WELL THAT ENDS WELL. they were not cherish'd by our virtues.' Johnson would censure Bertram as of imperfect virtue; but his character is not imaginary-it is taken from life. Excuses can be adduced for his errors, and even those are doubtlessly redeemed. "The period of the action of this play is not determinable with any approach to probability, not to say accuracy. Indeed it is more than likely that Shakespeare himself had no clear id.a upon the subject. Boccacio wrote about 1350; but the Florentines and Siennese were constantly at petty war during the middle ages. The allusion to Austria and its duke, as the latter has no influence on the action of the play, is a mere touch of local colour, and is of no value in the consideration of this question. The incidents upon which the action does turn are such as could have happened only in the society of an early feudal period; but the comic scenes have all the stamp of Shakespeare's own time; and dramatic propriety will be entirely preserved by adopting the costume of that day-authority for which exists in Vecelli and Montfauçon.”

KING of France.

DUKE of Florence.

BERTRAM, Count of Rousillon. LAEEU, an old Lord.

PAROLLES, a follower of Bertram.
Several young French Lords, that serve with
Bertram in the Florentine war.

A Page.

COUNTESS of Rousillon, mother to Bertram.
HELENA, a Gentlewoman, protected by the Coun-
An old Widow of Florence.
[tess.
DIANA, Daughter to the Widow.
VIOLENTA, Neighbours and Friends to the
MARIANA,
Widow.
Lords attending on the King; Officers, Soldiers,
&c., French and Florentine.

Act First. SCENE I.

Rousillon. A Room in the COUNTESS's Palace. Enter BERTRAM, the COUNTESS OF ROUSILLON, HELENA, and LAFEU, in mourning.

Count. Is 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 virtue 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 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.

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. 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. 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, their 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. Laf. Your commendations, madam, get from

her tears.

Count. 'Tis the best brine a maiden can season

* Under his particular care, as my guardian.

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. [it too.

Hel. I do affect a sorrow, indeed, but I have Laf. Moderate lamentation is the right of the dead; excessive grief the enemy to the living. Count. If the living be enemy to the grief, the excess makes it soon mortal.

Ber. Madam, I desire your holy wishes. Laf. How understand we that? [thy father Count. Be thou blest, Bertram! and succeed 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, [down, That thee may furnish, and my prayers pluck Fall on thy head! Farewell.-My lord, "Tis an unseason'd courtier; good my lord, Advise him.

Laf.

He cannot want the best That shall attend his love. Count. Heaven bless him!-Farewell, Bertram. [Exit COUNTESS.

Ber. The best wishes that can be forg'd in your thoughts [to HELENA] be servants to you! Be comfortable to my mother, your mistress, and make much of her.

Laf. Farewell, pretty lady: You must hold the credit of your father.

[Exeunt BERTRAM and LAFEU. 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 't 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.
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: ‡
Countenance.

+ Peculiarity of feature.

There shall your master have a thousand loves,
A mother, and a mistress, and a friend,
A phoenix, captain, and an enemy,
A guide, a goddess, and a sovereign,
A counsellor, a traitoress, and a dear,
His humble ambition, proud humility,

His jarring concord, and his discord dulcet,
His faith, his sweet disaster: with a world'
Of pretty, fond, adoptious christendoms,
That blinking Cupid gossips. Now shall he-
I know not what he shall: God send him well-
The court's a learning-place;-and he is one-
Par. What one, i' faith?

Hel. That I wish well.-'Tis pity-
Par. What's pity?

Hei. That wishing well had not a body in 't, Which might be felt that we, the poorer born, Whose baser stars do shut us up in wishes, Might with effects of them follow our friends, And show what we alone must think; which

never

Returns us thanks.

Enter a Page.

Page. Monsieur Parolles, my lord calls for you. [Exit Page. Par. Little Helen, farewell: if I can remember thee, I will think of thee at court.

Hel. Monsieur Parolles, you were born under a charitable star.

Par. Under Mars, I.

Hel. I especially think, under Mars. Par. Why under Mars?

To join like likes, and kiss like native things.*
Impossible be strange attempts to those
That weigh their pains in sense; and do suppose
What hath been cannot be. Who ever strove
To show her merit, that did miss her love?
The king's disease-my project may deceive me,
But my intents are fix'd, and will not leave me.
[Exit.

SCENE II.-Paris. A Room in the KING'S Palace. Flourish of cornets. Enter the KING OF FRANCE, with letters; Lords and others attending.

King. The Florentines and Senoys + are by th'

ears;

Have fought with equal fortune, and continue
A braving war.
1 Lord.
So 'tis reported, sir.

King. Nay, 'tis most credible; we here receive it

A certainty, vouch'd from our cousin Austria,
With caution, that the Florentine will move us
For speedy aid; wherein our dearest friend
Prejudicates the business, and would seem
To have us make denial.

1 Lord.
His love and wisdom,
Approv'd so to your majesty, may plead
For amplest credence.
King.
He hath arm'd our answer,
And Florence is denied before he comes;
Yet, for our gentlemen that mean to see
The Tuscan service, freely have they leave
To stand on either part.

2 Lord.
It may well serve
A nursery to our gentry, who are sick
For breathing and exploit.
King.

What's he comes here? Enter BERTRAM, LAFEU, and PAROLLES. 1 Lord. It is the Count Rousillon, my good' lord, Young Bertram. [face; King. Youth, thou bear'st thy father's Frank Nature, rather curious than in haste, Hath well compos'd thee. Thy father's moral parts

May'st thou inherit too! Welcome to Paris.

Ber. My thanks and duty are your majesty's. King. I would I had that corporal soundness

now,

Par. When he was predominant.

Hel. When he was retrograde, I think, rather.
Par. Why think you so?
Hel. You go so much backward when you fight.
Par. That's for advantage.

Hel. So is running away, when fear proposes the safety but the composition that your valour and fear makes in you is a virtue of a good wing, and I like the wear well.

Par. I am so full of businesses, I cannot answer thee acutely I will return perfect courtier; in the which, my instruction shall serve to naturalise thee, so thou wilt be capable of a courtier's counsel, and understand what advice shall thrust upon thee; else thou diest in thine unthankfulness, and thine ignorance makes thee away: farewell. Remember thy friends: get thee a good husband, and use him as he uses thee: so farewell. [Exit.

Hel. Our remedies oft in ourselves do lie, Which we ascribe to heaven: the fated sky Gives us free scope; only, doth backward pull Our slow designs, when we ourselves are dull. What power is it which mounts my love so high, That makes me see, and cannot feed mine eye? The mightiest space in fortune nature brings

First tried our soldiership! He did look far
Into the service of the time, and was
Discipled of the bravest he lasted long;
But on us both did haggish age steal on,
And wore us out of act. It much repairs me
To talk of your good father: In his youth
He had the wit, which I can well observe
To-day in our young lords; but they may jest
Till their own scorn return to them unnoted,
Ere they can hide their levity in honour.
So like a courtier, contempt nor bitterness
Were in his pride or sharpness; if they were,
His equal had awak'd them; and his honour,
Clock to itself, knew the true minute when
Exception bid him speak, and, at this time,
His tongue obey'd his hand : who were below him
He us'd as creatures of another place;
And bow'd his eminent top to their low ranks,
Making them proud of his humility,
In their poor praise he humbled.
Such a man
Might be a copy to these younger times; [now
Which, followed well, would demonstrate them
But goers backward.

* Things formed by nature for each other. + The citizens of the small republic of which Sienna is the capital.