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That the stretching of a span
Buckles in his sum of age.

150 Some, of violated vows

'Twixt the souls of friend and friend :
But upon the fairest boughs,

Or at every sentence' end,
Will I Rosalinda write;

Teaching all that read, to know
This quintessence of every sprite

Heaven would in little show.
Therefore heaven nature charg'd
That one body should be fill'd

160 With all graces wide enlarg'd:

Nature presently distillid
Helen's cheek, but not her heart ;

Cleopatra's majesty ;
Atalanta's better part;

Sad Lucretia's modesty.
Thus Rosalind of many parts

By heavenly synod was devis'd;
Of many faces, eyes, and hearts,

To have the touches dearest priz'd.
Heaven would that she these gifts should have,
And I to live and die her slave.


Ros. O most gentle Jupiter !-what tedious homily of love have you wearied your parishioners withal, and never cry'd, Have patience, good people!

Cel. How now! back-friends ?-Shepherd, go off a little :--Go with him, sirrah. Fij



Clo. Come, shepherd, let us make an honourable retreat; though not with bag and baggage, yet with scrip and scrippage. [Excunt CORIN, and Clown. Cel. Didst thou hear these verses ?

181 Ros. O, yes, I heard them all, and more too; for some of them had in them more feet than the verses would bear.

Cel. That's no matter ; the feet might bear the


Ros. Ay, but the feet were lame, and could not bear themselves without the verse, and therefore stood lamely in the verse.

Cel. But didst thou hear, without wondring how thy name should be hang’d and carv'd upon these trees?

19% Ros. I was seven of the nine days out of wonder, before you came; for look here what I found on a palm-tree: I was never so be-rhimed since Pythagoras' time, that I was an Irish rat, which I can hardly remember.

Cel. Trow you, who hath done this?
Ros. Is it a man ?

Cel. And a chain, that you once wore, about his neck; Change you colour ?

Ros. I prythee, who?

Cel. O lord, lord ! it is a hard matter for friends to meet; but mountains may be remov'd with earthquakes, and so encounter.

Ros. Nay, but who is it?
Cd. Is it possible?



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Ros. Nay, I pry’thee now, with most petitionary vehemence, tell me who it is.

Cel. 0. wonderful, wonderful, and most wonderful wonderful, and yet again wonderful, and after that out of all whooping !

Ros. Good my complexion ! dost thou think, though I ain caparison'd like a man, I have a doubleç and hose in my disposition ? One inch of delay inore is a South-sea off discovery. I pr’ythee, tell me, who is it; quickly, and speak apace: I would thou couldst stammer, that thou might'st pour this concealed man out of thy mouth, as wine comes out of a narrowmouth'd bottle; either too much at once, or none at all. I pr’ythee take the cork out of thy mouth, that I may drink thy tidings.

Cel. So you may put a man in your belly.

Ros. Is he of God's making? What manner of man ? Is his head worth a hat, or his chin worth a beard ?

Cel. Nay, he hath but a little beard.

Ros. Why, God will send more, if the man will be thankful : let me stay the growth of his beard, if thou delay me not the knowledge of his chin.

Cel. It is young Orlando, that tripp'd up the wrestler's heels, and your heart, both in an instant. 231

Ros, Nay, but the devil take mocking; speak sad brow, and true maid.

Cel. I'faith, coz, 'tis he.
Ros. Orlando?
Cel. Orlando.


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Ris. Alas the day! what shall I do with my doub. I lei and hose?-What did he, when thou saw'st him? What said he? How look'd he? Wherein went he? What makes he here? Did he ask for me? Where remains he? How parted he with thee? and when shalt thou see him again? Answer me in one word.

Cel. You must borrow me Garagantua's mouth first : 'tis a word too great for any mouth of this age's size: To say, ay, and no, to these particulars, is more than to answer in a catechism.

Ros. But doth he know that I am in this forest, and in man's apparel ? Looks he as freshly as he did the day he wrestled ?

249 Cel. It is as easy to count atomies, as to resolve the propositions of a lover*:—but take a taste of my finding him, and relish it with good observance. I found him under a tree, like a dropp'd acorn.

Ros. It may well be callid Jove's tree, when it drops forth such fruit.

Cel. Give me audience, good madam.
Ros. Proceed.

Cel. There lay he, stretch'd along, like a wounded knight.

Ros. Though it be pity to see such a sight, it well becomes the ground.

261 Cel. Cry, holla! to thy tongue, I pry'thee; it curvets unseasonably. He was furnish'd like a hunter.

Ros. Oh ominous! he comes to kill my heart.

Cel. I would sing my song without a burden: thou bringst me out of tune,


Ros. Do you not know I am a woman? when I think, I must speak. Sweet, say on.


Cel. You bring me out:--Soft! comes he not here?
Ros. 'Tis he ; slink by, and note him. 279

(Celia and ROSALIND retire. Jaq. I thank you for your company; but, good faith, I had as lief have been myself alone.

Orla. And so had I ; but yet, for fashion sake, thank you too for your

Jag. God be with you ; let's meet as little as we



Orla. I do desire we may be better strangers.

Jag. Į pray you, mar no more trees with writing love-songs in their barks.

Orla. I pray you, mar no more of my verses with reading them ill-favouredly.

Faq. Rosalind is your love's name?
Oria. Yes, just.
Jaq. I do not like her name.

Orla. There was no thought of pleasing you, when she was christen'd.

Jag. What stature is she of?
Orla. Just as high as my heart.

Jaq. You are full of pretty answers: Ilave ou aot been acquainted with goidsmiths wives, and conn'd them out of rings?

290 Orta.


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