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Orla. Not so: but I answer you right painted cloth, from whence you have studied your questions.

Jaq. You have a nimble wit; I think it was made of Atalanta's heels. Will you sit down with me; and we two will rail against our mistress, the world, and all our misery.

Orla. I will chide no breather in the world, but myself, against whom I know most faults.

Jaq. The worst fault you have is, to be in love.

Orla. 'Tis a fault I would not change for your best virtue. I am weary of you.

301 Faq. By my troth, I was seeking for a fool, when

I found you.

Orla. He is drown'd in the brook ; look but in, and you

shall see him. Jaq. There I shall see mine own figure. Orla. Which I take to be either a fool, or a cypher.

Jaq. l'll tarry no longer with you: farewel, good signior love.

[Exit. Orla. I am glad of your departure : adieu, good monsieur melancholy. [Cel. and Ros. come forward.

Ros. I will speak to him like a saucy lacquey, and under that habit play the knave with him.-Do you hear, forester?

314 Orla. Very well ; What would you? Ros. I pray you, what is't a clock?

Orla. You should ask me, what time o'day; there's no clock in the forest.

Ros. Then there is no true lover in the forest; else sighing every minute, and groaning every hour, would


detect the lazy foot of time, as well as a clock. 321

Orla. And why not the swift foot time? had not that been as proper?

Ros. By no means, sir : Time travels in divers paces with divers persons : l'll tell you who time ambles withal, who time trots withal, who time gallops withal, and who he stands still withal.

Orla. I proythee, whom doth he trot withal.

Ros. Marry, he trots hard with a young maid, be. tween the contract of her marriage and the day it is solemniz'd: if the interim be but a se'nnight, time's pace

is so hard that it seems the length of seven years. Orla. Who ambies time withal?

333 Ros. With a priest that lacks Latin, and a rich man that hath not the gout: for the one sleeps easily, because he cannot study; and the other lives merrily, because he feels no pain : the one lacking the burden of lean and wasteful learning ; the other knowing no burden of heavy tedious penury: These time ambles withal.

340 Orla. Whom doth he gallop withalp

Ros. With a thief to the gallows : for though he go as softly as foot can fall, he thinks himself tog

soon there.

Orla. Who stays it still withal ?

Ros. With lawyers in the yacation; for they sleep between term and term, and then they perceive not how time moves. Orla. Where dwell you, pretty youth?


Ros. With this shepherdess, my sister; here in the skirts of the forest, like fringe upon a petticoat. 351

Orla. Are you a native of this place ?

Ros. As the coney, that you see dwell where she is kindled.

Orla. Your accent is something finer than you could purchase in so removed a dwelling.

Ros. I have been told so of many: but, indeed, an old religious uncle of mine taught me to speak, who was in his youth an in-land man; one that knew courtship too well, for there he fell in love. I have heard him read many lectures against it; and I thank ! God, I am not a woman, to be touch'd with so many giddy offences as he hath generally tax'd their whole sex withal.

364 Orla. Can you remember any of the principal eviis, that he laid to the charge of women ?

Ros. There were none principal; they were all like one another, as half-pence are: every one fault seem. ing monstrous,

'till his fellow fault came to match it. Orla. I pr’ythee, recount some of them. 370

Ros. No; I will not cast away my physick, but on those that are sick. There is a man haunts the forest, that abuses our young plants with carving Rosalind on their barks ; hangs odes upon hawthorns, and elegies on brambles ; all, forsooth, deifying the name of Rosalind : if I could meet that fancy-monger, I would give him some good counsel, for he seems to have the quotidian, of love upon

him. Orla. I am he that is so love-shak'd; I pray you, tell me your remedy.



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Ros. There is none of my uncle's marks upon you : he taught me how to know a man in love; in which cage of rushes, I am sure, you are not prisoner.

Orla. What were his marks?
Ros. A lean cheek; which you have not :

a blue eye, and sunken; which you have not: an unquestionable spirit ; which you have not : a beard neglected ; which you have not :—but I pardon you for that; for, simply, your having in beard is a younger brother's revenue! Then your hose should be ungarter'd, your bonnet unbanded, your sleeve unbuttoned, your shoe untied, and every thing about you demonstrating a careless desolation. But you are no such man; you are rather point-device in your accoutrements; as loving yourself, than seeming the lover of any other.

Orla. Fair youth, I would I could make thee believe I love.

Ros. Me believe it ! you may as soon make her that you love believe it; which, I warrant, she is apter to do, than to confess she does; that is one of the points in the which women still give the lie to their consciences. But, in good sooth, are you he that hangs the verses on the trees, wherein Rosalind, is so admired ?

404 Orla. I swear to thee, youth, by the white hand of Rosalind, I am that he, that unfortunate he.

Ros. But are you so much in love, as your rhimes speak?

Orla. Neither rhime nor reason can 'express how much.

410 Ros.

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Ros. Love is merely a madness; and, I tell you, deserves as well a dark house and a whip, as madmen do: and the reason why they are not so punish'd and cured, is, that the lunacy is so ordinary, that the whippers are in love too: Yet I profess curing it by counsel.

Orla. Did you ever cure any so?
Ros. Yes, one; and in this manner.

He was to imagine me his love, his mistress; and I set him

every day to woo mie: At which time would 1, being but a moonish youth, grieve, be effeminate, changeable, longing, and liking; proud, fantastical, apish, shallow, inconstant, full of tears, full of smiles; for every passion something, and for no passion truly any thing, as boys and women are for the most part cattle of this colour: would now like him, now loath him; theri entertain him, then forswear him; now weep for him, then spit at him; that I drave my suitor from his mad humour of love, to a living humour of madness; which was, to forswear the full stream of the world, and to live in a nook merely monastick: And thus I cur'd him; and this way will I take upon me to wash your liver as clear as a sound sheep's heart, that there shall not be one spot of love in't.

Orla. I would not be cur'd, youth.

Ros. I would cure you, if you would but call me Rosalind, and come every day to my cote, and woo me.

Orla. Now, by the faith of my love, I will; tell me where it is.



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