coxcomb, and a knave? a thin-faced knave, a Vio. And all those sayings will lover guli?

sWear; Oli. Get him to bed, and let his hurt be look'a And all those swearings keep as true in soul, to.

As doth that orbed continent the fire (Exeunt CuOWN, Sir Tu By, and Sir AN. That severs day from night. DREW.)

Duke. Give me thy band ;

And let me see thee in thy woman's weeds. Enter SEBASTIAN.

Vio. The captain, that did bring me first ou Seb. I am sorry, madam, I have hurt your

sbore, kinsman ;

Hath my maid's garments ; he, upon some But had it been the brother of my blood,

action, I must bave done no less, with wit and safety. Is now in durance ; at Malvolio's suit, You throw a strange regard upon ine, and A gentleman and follower of my lady's. By that I do perceive it bath offended you ; Oli. He shall enlarge him :-Felch Malvoljo Pardon me, sweet one, even for the vows

hither : We made each other but so late ago.

And yet, alas, now I remember me, Duke. One face, one voice, oue habit, and they say, poor gentleman, he's much distract.

two persons ; A natural perspective, that is, and is not.

Re-enter Clown, with a letter. Scb. Antonio, O my dear Antonio !

A most extracting frenzy of mine own How have the hours rack'd and tortur'd me,

From my remenbrance clearly banisb'd his.Since I have lost thee.

How does he, sirrah? Ant. Sebastian are you?

Clo. Truly, madam, he bolds Belzebub at the Seb. Fear'st thou that, Antonio ? Ant. How have you made division of your do: he has here writ a letter to you, I should

stave's end, as well as a man in his case may self?

bave given it you to-day morning ; but as a An apple, cleft in two, is not inore twin Than these two creatures. Which is Sebastian ? / madman's epistles are no gospels, 'so it skills Oli. Most wonderful !

not inuch, when they are delivered.

Oli. Open it, and read it. Seb. Do I stand there? I never had a bro.

Clo. Look then to be well edified, when the ther :

fool delivers tbe madman :--By the lord, na. Nor can there be that deity in my nature, dam.of here and every where. I had a sister,

Oti. How now! art thou mad! Whem the blind waves and surges have de

Clo. No, madam, I do but read madness : an vour'd :of charity," what kiu are you to me?

your Jadyship will have it as it ought to be,

you must allow vor. .

(Tv Viola. What countryman? what nameľ what paren

Oli. Pr'ythee, read i'thy right wits. tage?

Clo. So I do, madonna; but to read his right

wits, is to read thus : therefore perpend, my Vio. of Messaline : Sebastian was my father ; Such a Sebastian was my brother too,

princess, and give ear. 8. Went he suited to his water

Oli. Read it, you sirrah. (To FABIAN tomb :

Fab. (Reads.) By the Lord, madum, you If spirits can assume both forin and suit You come to fright us.

wrong me, and the world shall know it :

though you have put me into dar ness, and Seb. A spirit I am, indeed ; But am in ibat dimension grossly clad,

given your drunken cousin rule over me, yet

have I the benefit of my senses as well as Which from the womb I did participate.

your ladyship I have your own letter that Were you a woman, as the rest goes even, induced me to the sembiance I put on ; with I sbould my tears let fall upon your cheek,

the which I doubt not bul to do myselj much And say,-Tbrice welcoine, drowned Viola !

right, or you much shame. Think of me as Vio. My father had a mole upon bis brow. Seh. And so bad mine.

you please. I leave my duty a

little un. Vio. And died that day when Viola from ber thought of, and speak out of my injury.

The madly-us'd MALVOLIO, binth

oli. Did he write this ? Had number'd thirteen years.

Clo. Ay, madam. Seb. O that record is lively in my soul

Duke. This savours not much of distraction. He finished, indeed, his mortal act,

Oli. See him deliver'd, Fabian ; bring biin That day that made my sister thirteen years.

hither. Vio. If nothing lets 1 to make us happy both, My lord, so please you, these things further

(Exit FABIAN. But this my masculine usurp'd attire,

thought on, Do not embrace me, till each circumstance

To think me as well a sister as a wife, Of place, tiine, fortune, do cohere and jump,

One day shall crown the alliance on't, so please That I am Viola : which to confirin,

you, I'll bring you to a captain in this town,

Here at my house, and at my proper cost. where lie my maiden weeds ; by whose gentle

Duke. Madam, I am most apt to embrace help I was preserv'd, to serve this noble count:

yourt offer.

Your master quits you : (TO Viola.) and, for All the occurrence of my fortune since Hath been between this lady, and this lord.

your service done bim, Seb. So comes it, lady, you have been mis so much against the mettle

for your sex, took :

[TO OLIVIA.

So far beneath your soft and tender breeding,

And since you call'd me master for so long, But nature to her bias drew in that.

Here is my band ; you shall from this time be You would have been contracted to a maid :

Your master's mistress.
Nor are you therein, by my lire deceiv'd,

Oli. A sister ? you are she.
You are betroth'd both to a maid and man.
Duke. Be not amaz'd; right noble is his Re-enter FABIAN, with Malvol10.
blood.

Duke. Is this the madman
Jf this be so, as yet the glass seems true,
I shall bave share in this most happy wreck:

Oli. Ay, my lord, this same :
Boy, thou hast said to mne a thousand tiines,

How now, Malvolio ?

Mal. Madam, you have done me wrong, Tbou never should'st love woman like to me.

(To VIOLA. Notorious wrong.

• O.; of charity tell me.

+ Ilinders.

• Voice. constitution.

Attend.

i Frame an

!

Oli. Have I, Malvolio ? no.

Clo. Why, some are born great, some achieve Mal. Lady vou bave. Pray you, peruse that greatness, and some have greatness throun letter ;

upon them. I was one, Sir, in this interlude ; You must not now deny it is your hand,

one Sir Topas, Sir ; but that's all one :- By Write froin it if you can, in band, or phrase ; the Lord, jool, I am not mud ;-But do you Or say, 'tis not your seal, nor your invention : remember i Mauam, why laugh you at such a You can say none of this : Well grant it then, barren rascall an you smile not, he's And tell me in the modesty of honour,

gagged: And thus the whirligig of time brings Why you have given me such clear lights of in his revenges. favour :

Mal. I'll be revenged on the whole pack of Bade me come smiling, and cross-garter'd to you.

(Pixit. you,

Oli. He bath been most notorionsly abus'd. Io put on yellow stockings, and to frown

Duke. Pursue him, and entreat him to a Upon Sir Toby, and the lighter * people :

peace: And, acting this in an obedient hope,

He hath not told us of the captain yet;
Why have you suffered me to be imprison'd, When that is known, and golden time convents,
Kept in a dark bouse, visited by the priest, A solemn combination shall be made
And made the most notorious geck, † and gull, of our dear souls- Mean time, sweet sister,
That e'er invention play'd on ? tell me why. We will not part from bence.-Cesario, come ;

Oli. Alas! Malvolio, this is not my writing, For so you shall be while you are a man;
Though I confess, inuch like the character : But, when in other habits you are seen,
Bet, out of question, 'tis Maria's hand.

Orsino's mistress, and his fancy's queen. And now I do bethink ine, it was she

(Ereunt. First told me thou wast mad; then cam'st in

SONG.
smiling,
And in such forms which here were presuppos'd Clo. When that I was and a little tiny boy,
Upon thee in the letter. Prythee, be content: With hey, ho, the wind and the rain,
This practice hath most shrewdly pass'd upon A foolish thing was but a toy,

For the rain it raineth every day.
But, when we know the grounds and authors

But when I came to man's estate, of it, Thou shalt bé both the plaiutiff aird the judge

With hey, ho, the wind and the rain, of thine owl cause.

'Gainst knave and thief men shut their Fab. Good madam, hear me speak;

gate,

For the rain it raineth every day.
And let no quarrel, nor no brawl to come,
Taint the condition of this present hour.

But when I came, alas ! to wive,
Which I have wonder'd at. In hope it shall not, With hey, ho, the wind and the rain,
Most freely I confess, myself and i'uby

By swaggering could I never thrive,
Set this device against Malvolio here,

For the rain it raineth every day.
Upon some stubborn and uncourteous parts

But when I came unto my bed,
We had conceiv'd against him : Maria writ
The
tter, at Sir Toby's great importance ;

With hey, ho, the wind and the rain,
In recompense whereof, he hath married her.

With tose-pots still had drunken head, How with a sportful malice it was follow'd,

For the rain it raineth every day. May rather pluck on laughter than revenge ; A great while ago the world begun, If that the injuries be justly weigh'd,

With hey, ho, the wind and the rain; That have on both sides past.

But that's all one, our play is done, Oli. Alas, poor fool! how have they ballied 5 And we'll strive to please you every day. thee !

(Eric. • Sororior. 1 Fool. 1 Importunacy. Cheated. !

• Slall wro.

thee;

ALL'S WELL THAT ENDS WELL,

LITERARY AND HISTORICAL NOTICE. THE fablo of this play, (written in 1898,) is taken from a novel of which Boccace is the original author; but it is

more than probable that our poet read it in a book called The Palace of Pleasure; a collection of novels translated from different authors, by one William Painter, 1546, 4to. Shakspeare has only borrowed from the novel a fow leading circumstances in the graver parts of the drama: the comic characters are entirely of his owa formation : one of them, Parolles, a boaster and a coward, is the sheet-anchor of the piece. The plot is not sufficiently probable. Some of the scenes are forcibly written, whilst others are impoverished and unin. teresting. The moral of the play may be correctly ascertained from Dr. Johuson's estimate of the character of Bertram: “I cannot reconcile my heart to Bertram ; a man noble without generosity, and young without truth ; who marries Helena as a coward, and leaves her as a profligate : when she is dead, by his unkindness, sneaks home to a second marriage, is accused by a woman whom he has wronged, defends himself by falsehood, and is dirmissed to happiness."

DRAMATIS PERSONÆ. KING OF FRANCE.

COUNTESS OF ROUSILLON, Mother to Bertram. DUKE OF FLORENCE.

HELENA, a Gentlewoman protected by the BERTRAM, Count of Rousillon.

Countess. LAPEU, an old Lord.

An Old Widow of Florence. PAROLLES, a follower of Bertram.

DIANA, Daughter to the Widow,
Severul young French Lords, that serve with VIOLENTA, Neighbours and Friends to the

Bertram in the Florentine war. MARIANA, I Widow,
STEWARD, Servants to the Countess of Rou-
Clown, sillon.

Lords, attending on the King ; Officers, SolA PAGR.

diers, &c. French and Florentine.

SCENE-Partly in France, and partly in Tuscany.

ACT I.

skill was almost as great as bis honesty ; had it

stretched so far, it would have made nature im. SCENE 1.-Rousillon.-A Room in the mortal, and death should have play for lack of Countess' Palace.

work. 'Would, for the king's sake, he were liv. Enter BERTRAY, the COUNTESS of Rousillon, disease.

ing! I think, it would be the death of the king's HELENA, and LAFEU, in mourning. Laf. How called you the man you speak of, Count. In delivering iny son from me, I bury a madam? second husband.

Count. He was famous, Sir, in his profession, Ber. And I, in going, madam, weep o'er my and it was his great right to be so : Gerard de father's death anew : but I must attend his ma- Narbon. jesty's command, to whom I am now in ward, Laf. He was excellent, indeed, madam; the evermore in subjection.

king very lately spoke or hiin admiringly, and Luf. You shall find of the king a husband, mourningly: he was skilful enough to bave madam ;-you, Sir, a father : He that so generally lived still, ir kuowledge could be set up against is at all times good, must of necessity hold his mortality. virtue to you; whose wortbiuess would stir it up Ber. What is it, my good lord, the king lanwhere it wanted, rather than lack it where there guishes of 1 is such abundance.

Laf. A fistula, my lord. Count. What hope is there of his majesty's Ber. I heard hot of it before. ameudment1

Laj. I would, it were not notorious.--Was Laf. He hath abandoned his physicians, ma- this gentlewoman the daughter of Gerard de dam ; under whose practices he hath persecuted Narbon ? time with hope ; and finds no other advantage Count. His sole child, my lord : and bein the process but only the losing of hope by queathed to my overlooking. i bave those hopes time.

of her good, that her education promises : her Count. This young gentlewomau bad a father, dispositions sbe inherits, wbich makes fair (Oh! that had! I how sad a passage 'tis !) whose gifts fairer : for where an unclean miud carries

virtuous qualities, there commendations • The heirs of great fortunes were always the king's with pity, they are virtues and traiturs too; ir wards.

+ The countess recollects her o va loss of a husband, aud observes how hcarily had passes through her miud." • Qualities of good breeding and eruditiou.