Have statues rais'd to him; for, by my life,
I think, there does not breathe another like her.
It makes me young, to see her lovely eyes:
Such charity! such sweet benevolence!
So fair, and yet so humble! prais'd for ever,
Nay, wonder'd at, for nature's rarest gifts,
Yet lowlier than the lowest.
Jaq. Is it strange,
Fair Adelaide and I, thus bound to him,
Are anxious for his safety? What offence