Page 785 - Shakespeare - Vol. 3

LAFEW

He cannot want the best
That shall attend his love. [70]

COUNTESS
Heaven bless him! Farewell, Bertram.
Exit.

BERTRAM

The best wishes that can be forged in your thoughts be servants to you! (To
Helena) Be comfortable to my mother, your mistress, and make much of her.

LAFEW
Farewell, pretty lady. You must hold the credit of [75] your father.
Exeunt Bertram and Lafew.

HELENA
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 [80]
Carries no favour in’t but Bertram’s.

I am undone: there is no living, none,
If Bertram be away. ’Twere all one
That I should love a bright particular star
And think to wed it, he is so above me. [85]
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, [90]
To see him every hour, to sit and draw
His archèd brows, his hawking eye, his curls,
In our heart’s table − heart too capable
Of every line and trick of his sweet favour.

But now he’s gone, and my idolatrous fancy [95]
Must sanctify his relics. Who comes here?
Enter Parolles.