That bring these tidings to this fair assembly:-
Duke Frederick, hearing how that every day
Men of great worth resorted to this forest,
Address'd19 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 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 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 rustick revelry:-

Play, music;—and you, bride and bridegrooms all, With measure heap'd in jo

the measures fall.

Jaq. Sir, by your patience; If I 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:

19 i. e. prepared.

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 pleasures; bee

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 cave20. [Exit. Duke S. Proceed, proceed: we will begin these

rites,

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

EPILOGUE.

[4 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 needs no bush21, 'tis true that a good play needs no epilogue: Yet to good wine they do use good bushes; and good plays prove the

20 The reader feels some regret to take his leave of Jaques in this manner; and no less concern at not meeting with the faithful old Adam at the close. It is the more remarkable that Shakspeare should have forgotten him, because Lodge, in his novel, makes him captain of the 's guard.

21 It was formerly the general custom in England, as it is still in France and the Netherlands, to hang a bush of ivy at the door of a vintner: there was a classical propriety in this; ivy being sacred to Bacchus. So in Summer's last Will and Testament, 1600: 'Green ivy bushes at the vintners' doors.'

Again in The Rival Friends, 1632:

Tis like the ivy-bush unto a tavern.'

The custom is still observed in Warwickshire and the adjoining counties, at statute-hirings, wakes, &c. by people who sell ale at no other time. The manner in which they were decorated appears from a passage in Florio's Italian Dictionary, in voce Tremola: gold foile or thin leaves of gold or silver, namely, thinne plate, as our vintners adorn their bushes with. Nash, in his Lenten stuffe, describes A London vintner's signe thicke jagged and fringed round with theaming arsadine, i. e. glittering foil or orsedew, and not a yellow pigment as Mr. Gifford has supposed.-v. Ben Jonson's Works, vol. iv. p. 405.

1

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 furnished22 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 you23: and 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 please. If I were a woman24, I would kiss as many of you as had beards that pleased me, complexions that liked me25, 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.

23 This is the reading of the old copy, which has been altered: to as much of this play as please them, but surely without necessity. It is only the omission of the s at the end of please, which gives it a quaint appearance, but it was the practice of the poet's age.

24 The parts of women were performed by men or boys in Shakspeare's time.

25 i. e. that I liked.

Vol. III.

10 yaom es el bloow I spamowe 972# 1 11 anoizolymen Jan Boenoly this wind will ex no tion beacle Pit altsand bas *em bed ne abused ho02 wk 204your 26 9143 mi I bes Of this play the fable is wild and pleasing. I know not how the ladies will approve the facility with which both Rosalind and Celia give away their hearts. To Celia much may be forgiven for the heroism of her friendship. The character of Jaques is natural and well preserved. The comic dialogue is very sprightly, with less mixture of low buffoonery than in some other plays; and the graver part is elegant and harmonious. By hastening to the end of this work, Shakspeare suppressed t dialogue between the 'usurper and the hermit, and lost an opportunity of exhibiting a moral lesson, in which he might have found matter worthy of his highest powers. VARD JOHNSON.

the

ALL'S WELL THAT ENDS

WELL.