in only one, yet that one will vanquish the thousand as often as the
desires of lovers run in tandem. But there is one accident you have
left out of count, and it is the worst stumbling-block I know of in
the path of happy endings.

All the Milkmaids: What is it?

Martin: Suppose the lovely Viola had been a sworn virgin and a hater
of men.


There was silence in the Apple-Orchard.


Joscelyn: She would have been none the worse for that, singer. And
the tale would have been none the less a tale, which is all we look
for from you. This talk of happy endings is silly talk. The King
might have sought the Woman in vain, or kept his vow, or drowned
himself, or ridden to the confines of Kent, for aught I care.

Joyce: Or I.

Jennifer: Or I.

Jessica: Or I.

Jane: Or I.

Martin: I am silenced. Tales are but tales, and not worth
speculation. And see, the moon is gone to sleep behind a cloud,