Love’s Memory

From “All ’s Well That Ends Well,” Act I. Sc. 1. 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. ’T was pretty, though a plague, 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 favor: But now he ’s gone, and my idolatrous fancy Must sanctify his relics.