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THE head is stately, calm, and wise,


And bears a princely part; And down below in secret lies

The warm, impulsive heart.

The lordly head that sits above,

The heart that beats below, Their several office plainly prove,

Their true relation show.

The head, erect, serene, and cool,

Endowed with Reason's art, Was set aloft to guide and rule

The throbbing, wayward heart.

And from the head, as from the higher,

Comes every glorious thought; And in the heart's transforming fire

All noble deeds are wrought.

Yet each is best when both unite

To make the man complete;
What were the heat without the light?
The light, without the heat ?




During the time that France was divided into dukedoms, there reigned in one of the provinces a usurper named Frederic, who had deposed and banished his elder brother, the lawful duke. The latter, thus driven from his dominions, retired with a few faithful followers to the forest of Arden. He had an only daughter named Rosalind, whom the usurper still retained in his court as a companion to his own daughter, Celia; but after a time it was discovered that Rosalind was enamored of Orlando, a son of Sir Rowland de Boys, who had been a strong adherent of her father. The knowledge of the love existing between these two young people so incensed Frederic, that he ordered Rosalind instantly to follow her father into banishment. When Celia, who was greatly attached to her cousin, found that she could neither by prayers nor tears prevail upon her father to let Rosalind remain, she resolved to accompany her cousin in exile, and accordingly stole away from her father's palace by night. For purposes of greater safety, and in order to avoid recognition, Rosalind attired herself in the garb of a young countryman, while Celia wore the dress of a maiden peasant.

Meantime Orlando had fled to this same forest, in order to escape the enmity of a wicked and jealous brother who was seeking his life. Upon entering the forest the two princesses were much surprised to find the name of Rosalind, together with love sonnets, carved upon the bark of many of the trees, and while wondering at this they espied Orlando, whom they instantly recognized, but who failed to discover them in their strange attire. Rosalind asserted that she would like to meet the youth who could have written the sonnets, when Orlando confessed that he was the writer, whereupon Rosalind declared that she would cure him of his love by making him ashamed of it; and the plan proposed was that Orlando was to feign to woo Rosalind, whom he supposes is the youth Ganymede, in the same manner that he would do were it his own Rosalind.

The Scene opens with the entrance of ORLANDO. Orlando.—Good day and happiness, dear Rosalind! I come within an hour of my promise.


Rosalind.-Break an hour's promise in love! He that will divide a minute into a thousand parts, and break but a part of the thousandth part of a minute in the affairs of love, it may be said of him that Cupid hath clapped him o' the shoulder, but I'll warrant him heart-whole.

Orlando.Pardon me, dear Rosalind.

Rosalind.-Nay, an you be so tardy, come no more in my sight; I had as lief be wooed of a snail.

Orlando. Of a snail ?

Rosalind.-Ay, of a snail ; for though he comes slowly, he carries his house on his head,-a better jointure, I think, than you can make a woman: besides he brings his destiny with him.

Orlando.—What's that ?

Rosalind.- Why, horns, which such as you are fain to be beholding to your wives for; but he comes armed in his fortune and prevents the slander of his wife. Orlando.-Virtue is no horn maker; and


Rosalind is virtuous. Rosalind.- And I am your

Rosalind. Celia.—It pleases him to call you so; but he hath a Rosalind of a better leer than

you. Rosalind.—Come, woo me, woo me, for now I am in a holiday humor and like enough to consent. What would you say to me now, an I were your very very Rosalind ?

Orlando.- I would kiss before I spoke.

Rosalind.-Nay, you were better speak first, and when you were gravelled for lack of matter you might take occasion to kiss. Very good orators, when they are out, they will spit ; and for lovers lacking-God warn us ! matter, the cleanliest shift is to kiss.

Orlando.-How if the kiss be denied ?

Rosalind.—Then she puts you to entreaty, and there begins new matter.

Orlando.-Who could be out, being before his beloved mistress ?

Rosalind.-Marry, that should you, if I were your mistress, or I should think my honesty ranker than my wit.

Orlando.—What, of my suit ?

Rosalind.-Not out of your apparel, and yet out of your suit. Am not I


Rosalind ? Orlando.—I take some joy to say you are, because I would be talking of her.

Rosalind.— Well in her person I say I will not have you.

Orlando.—Then in mine own person I die.

Rosalind.-No, faith, die by attorney. world is almost six thousand years old, and in all this time there was not any man died in his own person, videlicet, in a love-cause. Troilus had his brains dashed out with a Grecian club; yet he did what he could to die before, and he is one of the patterns of love. Leander, he would have lived many a fair year, though Hero had turned nun, if it had not been for a hot midsummer night : for, good youth, he went but forth to wash him in the Hellespont, and being taken with the cramp was drowned ; and the foolish chroniclers of that age found it was—Hero of Sestos. But these are all lies ; men have died from time to time, and worms have eaten them, but not for love.

Orlando.-I would not have my right Rosalind of this mind, for, I protest, her frown might kill me.

Rosalind.-By this hand, it will not kill a fly. But

The poor

come, now I will be your Rosalind in a more coming-on disposition, and ask me what you will, I will grant it. Orlando.—Then


Rosalind. Rosalind.—Yes, faith, will I, Fridays and Saturdays and all.

Orlando. And wilt thou have me?
Rosalind.-Ay, and twenty such.
Orlando.- What sayest thou ?
Rosalind.- Are you not good ?
Orlando. I hope so.

Rosalind.—Why then, can one desire too much of a good thing ?-Come, sister, you shall be the priest and marry us.—Give me your hand, Orlando.—What do you

say, sister?

Orlando.-Pray thee, marry us.
Celia.—I cannot say the words.
Rosalind.—You must begin, “Will you, Orlando—"

Celia.—Go to.—Will you, Orlando, have to wife this Rosalind ?

Orlando.—I will.
Rosalind.—Ay, but when ?
Orlando.—Why now; as fast as she can marry us.

Rosalind.—Then you must say, “I take thee, Rosalind, for wife.”

Orlando. I take thee, Rosalind, for wife.

Rosalind.— I might ask you for your commission; but I do take thee, Orlando, for my husband. There's a girl goes before the priest ; and certainly a woman's thought runs before her actions.

Orlando.—So do all thoughts; they are winged.

Rosalind.-Now tell me how long you would have her after you have possessed her.

Orlando.-For ever and a day.

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