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Orl. Now, by the faith of my love, I will; tell me Sir Oli, Is there none here to give the woman?
Touch. I will not take her on gift of any man.
Jag: [Discovering himself.] Proceed, proceed; I'll
give her. Ros. Nay, you must call me Rosalind. - Come, sister, Touch.Good even, good master What ye call't. How will (Exeunt. do you, sir ? You are very well met: God’ild yon
for SCENE III.
your last company: I am very glad to see you. - Even Enter Touchstone and Audrey; JAQUES at a distance a toy in hand here, sir. - Nay; pray, be cover'd. observing them.
Jag. Will you be married, motley? Touch. Come apace, good Audrey! I will fetch up Touch. As the ox hath his bow, sir, the horse his curb, your goats, Audrey: and how, Audrey? am I the and the faulcon her bells, so man hath his desires; and man yet? Doth my simple feature content you? as pigeons bill, so wedlock would benibbling. Aud.Your features ! Lord warrant us ! what features? | Jaq. And will you, being a man of yoar breeding, be Touch. I am here with thee and thy goats, as the married under a bush, like a beggar? Get you to most capricious poet, honest Ovid, was among the church, and have a good priest, that can tell you what Goths.
marriage is : this fellow will but join you together as Jaq. Oknowledge ill-inhabited! worse than Jove in they join wainscot; then one of you will prove a shrunk a thatch'd house!
[Aside. pannel, and, like green timber, warp, warp. Touch. When a man's verses cannot be under od, Touch. I am not in the mind, but I were better to nor a man's good wit seconded with the forward child, be married of him than of another: for he is not like understanding, it strikes a man more dead than a great to marry me well; and not being ell married, it will reckoning in a little room:- truly, I would the gods be a good excuse for me hereafter to leave my wife. had made thee poetical.
Touch. Come, sweet Audrey;
O brave Oliver,
Begone, I say,
[E.reunt Jaques, Touchstone, and Audrey. Aud. Would you not have me honest?
Sir Oli. 'Tis no matter: ne'er a fantastical knave of Touch. No truly, unless thou wert hard-favour'd; them all shall flout me out of my calling. [Exit. for honesty coupled to beauty,is to have honey a sauce to sugar.
SCENE IV. The same. Before a Cottage. Jaq. A material fool!
Enter Rosalind and Celia.
Cel. Do, I pr’ythee; but yet have the grace to con-
Cel. An excellent colour: your chesnut was ever the
Ros. And his kissing is as full of sanctity as the touch
Cel. Was is notis: besides, the oath of a lover is 110 Enter Sir OLIVER MAR-TEXT.
stronger than the word of a tapster; they are both the Here comes sir Oliver. --Sir Oliver Mar-text, you are confirmers of false reckonings
. He attends here in the well met. Will you dispatch us here under this tree, forest on the duke, your father. or shall we go with you to your chapel?
Ros. I met the duke yesterday, and had much ques
Irmie U take sheep
tion with him: he asked me, of what parentage I was? (As, by my faith, I see no more in you,
Why, what means this? Why do you look on me?
That can entame my spirits to your worship.--
You foolish shepherd, wherefore do you follow her,
Than she a woman. 'Tis such fools as you,
That make the world full of ill-favour'd children: That was his mistress.
'Tis not her glass, but you, that flatters her; Cel. Well, and what of him?
And out of you she sees herself more proper, Cor. If you will see a pageant truly play'd,
Than any of her lineaments can show her. Between the pale complexion of true love
But, mistress, know yourself; down on your knees, And the red glow of scorn and proud disdain,
And thank heaven, fasting, for a good man's love: Go hence a little, and I shall conduct you,
For I must tell you friendly in your ear: If you will mark it.
Sell when you can; you are not for all markets: Ros. O come, let us remove;
Cry the man mercy: love him; take his offer; The sight of lovers feedeth those in love:
Foul is most foul, being foul to be a scoffer.
So, take her to thee, shepherd ; -- fare you well!
I had rather hear you chide, than this man woo.
fall in love with my anger. If it be so, as fast as she Sil. Sweet Phebe, do not scorn me; do not, Phebe: answers thee with frowuiug looks, I'll sauce her with Say, that you love me not; but say not so
bitter words.-Why look you so upon In bitterness. The common executioner,
Phe. For no ill will I bear
you. Whose heart the accustom'd sight of death makes Ros. I pray yon, do not fall in love with me, hard,
For I am falser than vows made in wine:
Besides, I like you not. If you will know my house,
Will you go, sister? — Shepherd, ply her hard:
And he not prond: though all the world could see, Ifly thee, for I would not injure thee.
None could be so abus'd in sight as he. Thou tell’stme, there is murderin mine eye:
Come,to our flock.[Exeunt Rosalind, Celia,and Corin. 'Tis pretty, sure, and very probable,
Phe. Dead shepherd ! now I find thy saw of might;
Sil, Sweet Phebe,-
Sil, Sweet Phebe, pity me!
By giving love, your sorrow and my grief
Sil. I would have you.
Phe. Why, that were covetousness. Thy palm some moment keeps : but now mine eyes, Silvius, the time was, that I hated thee; Which I have darted at thee, hurt thee not;
And yet it is not, that I bear thee love: Nor, I am sure, there is no force in eyes
But since that thou canst talk of love so well, That can do hurt.
Thy company, which erst was irksome to me, Sil. O dear Phebe,
I will endure; and I'll employ thee too:
But do not look for further recompense,
Sil. So holy, and so perfect is my love,
And I in such a poverty of grace, Phe. But, till that time,
That I shall think it a most plenteous crop Come not thou near me: and, when that time comes, To glean the broken ears after the man Afflict me with thy mocks, pity me not;
That the main harvest reaps: loose now and then As, till that time, I shall not pity thee.
A scatter'd smile, and that I'll live upon. Ros.And why, I pray you? [Adruncing.] Who might Phe. Know'st thou the youth that spoke to me ere be your mother,
while ? That you insult, exult, and all at once,
Sil. Not very well, but I have met him oft; Over the wretched ? 'What though you have more and he hath bought the cottage and the bounds, beauty,
That the old Carlot once was master of.
Phe. Think not Ilove him, thongh I ask for him; gondola.-Why, how now, Orlando! where have you *Tis but a peevish boy:-yet he talks well:
been all this while? You a lover ? — An you serve me But what care I for words? yet words do well, such another trick, never come in my sight more. When he, that speaks them, pleases those that hear. Orl. My fair Rosalind, I come within an hour of my It is a pretty youth: - not very pretty:
promise. But, sure,
's proud; and yet his pride becomes him: Rus. Break an hour's promise in love? He that will He'll make a proper man. The best thing in him divide a minute into a thousand parts, and break but a Is his complexion; and faster than his tongue part of the thousandth part of a minute in the affairs of Did make offence, his eye did heal it up.
love, it may be said of him, that Cupid hath clap'd him He is not tall ; yet for his years he's tall :
o'the shoulder, but I warrant him heart-whole.
Orl. Pardon me, dear Rosalind!
Ros. Nay, an you be so tardy, come no more in my
sight: I had as lief be woo'd of a snail.
than you can make a woman; besides, he brings his To fall in love with him: but, for my part,
destiny with him.
Orl. What's that?
beholden to your wives for: but he comes armed He said, mine eyes were black, and my hair black; his fortune, and prevents the slander of his wife. And, now I am remember'd, scorn'dat me:
Orl. Virtue is no horn-maker; and my Rosalind is Imarvel, why I answer'd not again :
Ros. And I am your Rosalind:
Cel. It pleases him to call you so; but he hath a Rosa
; And thou shalt bearit; wilt thou, Silvius?
lind of a better leer than you. Sil. Phebe, with all my heart.
Ros. Come, woo me, woo me; for now I am in a holiPhe. I'll write it straight;
day humour, and like enough to consent. What The matter's in my head, and in my heart :
would you say to me now, an I were your very, very, I will be bitter with him, and passing short.
[Exeunt. Orl. I would kiss, before I spoke.
Ros. Nay, you were better speak first; and when А ст
you were gravelled for lack of matter, you might take
occasion to kiss. Very good orators, when they are SCENE I. - The same.
out, they will spit; and for lovers, lacking (God warn Enter RosaLiND, Celia, and Jagues. us!) matter, the cleanliest shift is to kiss. Jag. I pr’ythee, pretty youth, let me be better ac- Orl, How if the kiss be denied ? quainted with thee.
Ros. Then she puts you to entreaty, and there begins Rus. They say you are a melancholy fellow.
new matter. Jug. I am so; I do love it better than laughing. Orl. Who could be out, being before his beloved Ros. Those, that are in extremity of either, are abo- mistress ? minable fellows, and betray themselves to every mo- Ros. Marry, that should you, if I were your mistress; dern censure, worse than drunkards.
or I should think my honesty ranker than my wit. Jaq. Why, 'tis good to be sad and say nothing. Orl. What, of my suit? Ros. Why then, 'tis good to be a post.
Ros. Not out of your apparel, and yet out of your Jaq. I have neither the scholar's melancholy, which suit. Am not Iyour Rosalind? is emulation; nor the musician's, which is fantastical; Orl. I take some joy to say you are, because I would por the courtier's, which is proud; nor the soldier's, | be talking of her. which is ambitious; nor the lawyer's, which is poli- Ros. Well
, in her person, I say, I will not have you. tic; vor the lady's, which is nice; nor the lover's, Orl. Then, in mine own person, I die. which is all these: but it is a melancholy of mine own, Ros. No, faith, die by attorney. The poor world is compounded of many simples, extracted from many almost six thousand years old, and in all this time there objects; and, indeed, the sundry contemplation of was not any man died in his own person, videlicet, in mytravels, in which my often rumination wraps me,is a a love-cause. Troilus had his brains dashed out with most humorous saduess.
a Grecian club; yet he did what he could to die before; Ros. A traveller! By my faith, you have great reason and he is one of the patterns of love. Leander, he to be sad: I fear, you have sold your own lands, to see would have lived many a fair year, though Hero had other meu's; then, to have seen much, and to have turned nun, if it had not been for a hot midsummer nothing, is to have rich eyes and poor hands. night: for, good youth, he went but forth to wash him Jag. Yes, I have gained my experience.
in the lellespont, and, being taken with the cramp, Enter ORLANDO.
was drowned; and the foolish chroniclers of that age Ros.And your experience makes you sad:I had rather found it was Hero of Sestos. But these are all lies; have a fool to make me merry, than experience to make men have died from time to time, and worms have me sad; and to travel forittoo,
eaten thenı, but not for love. Orl. Good day, and happiness, dear Rosalind! Orl.I would not have my right Rosalind of this mind; Jaq. Nay then, God be wi' you, an you talk in blank for,' I protest, her frown might kill me.
[Exit. Ros. By this hand, it will not kill a fly. But comc, Ros. Farewell, monsieur traveller! Look, you lisp, now I will be your Rosalind in a more coming-on disand wear strauge suits; disable all the benefits of your position; and ask me what you will, I will grant it. own country; be ont of love with your nativity, and Orl. Then love me, Rosalind ! almost chide God for making you that countenance Ros. Yes, faith will I, Fridays, and Saturdays, and all. vouare; or I will scarce think you have swam in a Orl. And wilt thou have me?
Ros. Ay, and twenty such.
-Orl. With no less religion, than if thou wert indeed Orl. What say'st thou?
my Rosalind. So, adieu ! Ros. Are you not good ?
Ros. Well, time is the old justice, that examines all Orl. I hopeso.
such offenders, and let time try. Adieu ![Exit Orlando. Ros. Why then, can one desire too much of a good Cel. You have simply misus’d our sex in your lovething?--Come, sister, you shall be the pricst, and marry prate : we must have your doublet and hose plucked us.-Give me your hand, Orlando. -What do you say, over your head, and show the world what the bird hath sister?
done to her own nest. Orl. Pray thee, marry us.
Ros. O coz, coz, coz, my pretty little coz, that thou
didst know, how many fathom deep I am in love! But
Cel. Or rather bottomless; that as fast as you pour
affection in, it runs out. Ros. Ay, but when ?
Ros. No, that same wicked bastard of Venus, that was Orl. Why now; as fast as she can marry as. begot of thought, conceived of spleen, and born of Ros.Then you must say, -I take thee, Rosalind, for madness; that blind rascally boy, that abuses every wife.
one's eyes, because his own are out, let him be judge, Ros. I might ask you for your commission ; but, — 1 how deep I am in love:--I'll tell thee, Aliena, I cannot do take thee, Orlando, for my husband. There a girl be out of the sight of Orlando : I'll go find a shadow, goes before the priest; and, certainly, a woman's and sigh till he come. thought runs before her actions.
Cel. And I'll sleep.
(Exeunt. Orl. So do all thoughts: they are winged. Ros.Now tell me, how long you would have her, after SCENE II.-- Another part of the forest. you have possessed her.
Enter Jaques and Lords, in the habit of Foresters. Orl. For ever, and a day.
Jug. Which is he that killed the deer? Ros. Say a day, without the ever. No, no, Orlando ; 1 Lord. Sir, it was I. men are April, when they woo, December, when they Jaq. Let's present him to the duke, like a Roman wed ; maids are May, when they are maids, but the sky conqueror; and it would do well to set the deer’s horns changes, when they are wives. I will be more jealous of upon his head, for a branch of victory. - Have you no thee than a Barbary cock-pigeon over his hen; more song, forester, for this purpose ? clamorous than a parrot against rain; more newfang- 2 Lord. Yes, sir. led than an ape; more giddy in my desires than a mon- Jag. Sing it; 'tis no matter how it be in tune, so it key: I will weep for nothing, like Diana in the foun- make noise enough. tain, and I will do that, when you are disposed to be
SONG. merry; I will laugh like a hyen, and that when thou art 1 What shall he have that kill'd the deer? inclined to sleep.
2 His leather skin and horns to wear. Orl. But will my Rosalind do so ?
1 Then sing him hoine : Ros. By my life, she will do as I do.
Take thou no scorn, to wear the horn; The rest Orl. o, but she is wise.
It was a crestere thou wast born.
shall bear Ros. Or else she could not have the wit to do this: the 1 Thy father's father wore it's this bar wiser, the waywarder. Make the doors upon a woman's 2 And thy father bore it:
den. wit, and it will out at the casement; shut that, and 'twill All. The horn, the horn, the lusty horn, out at the key-hole: stop that, 'twill fly with the smoke Is not a thing to laugh to scorn. [Exeunt. out at the chimney. Orl. A man, that had a wife with such a wit, he might
SCENE III.— The forest. say, -Wit, whither wilt?
Enter Rosalind and Celia. Ros. Nay, you might keep that check for it, till
Iyou Ros. How say you now? Is it not past two o'clock? met your wife's wit going to your neighbour's bed. and here much Orlando! Ori. And what wit could wit have to excuse that? Cel. I warrant you, with pure love,and troubled brain, Ros.Marry, to say, --she came to seek you there. You he hath ta'en his bow and arrows, and is gone forthshall never take her without her answer, unless you to sleep. Look, who comes here. take her without her tongue.O, that woman that cannot
Enter Silvius. make her fault her husband's occasion, let her never Sil. My errand is to you, fair youth ; nurse her child herself, forshe will breed it like a fool. My gentle Phebe bid me give you this: [Giving a letter Orl. For these two hours, Rosalind, I will leave thee. I know not the contents; but, as I guess, Ros. Alas, dear love, I cannot lack thee two hours. By the stern brow and waspish action, Orl. I must attend the duke at dinner; by two o'clock Which she did use as she was writing of it, I will be with thee again.
It bears an angry tenour: pardon me, Ros. Ay, go your ways, go your ways !-I knew what I am but as a guiltless messenger. you would prove; my friends told me as much, and I Ros. Patience herself would startle at this letter, thought no less :—that flattering tongue of yours won And play the swaggerer; bear this, bear all;
—'tis but one cast away, and so, -come, death. She says I am not fair; that I lack manners ; Two o'clockis your hour?
She calls me proud; and, that she could not love me, Orl. Ay, sweet Rosalind.
Were man as rare as phoenix; Od's my will ! Ros. By my troth, and in good earnest, and so God Her love is not the hare that I do hunt: mend me, and by all pretty oaths, that are not dange- Why writes she so to me? Well, shepherd, well, rous, if you break one jot of your promise, or come one This is a letter of your own device. minute behind your hour, I will think you the most pa- Sil. No, I protest, I know not the contents; thetical break-promise, and the most hollow lover, Phebe did write it. and the most unworthy of her yon call Rosalind, that Ros. Come, come, you are a fool, may be chosen out of the gross band of the unfaithful: And turn'd into the extremity of love. therefore beware my censure, and keep your promise. I saw her hand: she has a leathern hand,
A freestone-colour'd hand ; I verily did think, This handkerchief was stain'd.
He left a promise to return again
Within an hour; and, pacing through the forest,
Chewing the food of sweet and bitter fancy,
And, mark, what object did present itself!
A wretched ragged man, o'ergrown with hair,
A green and gilded snake had wreath'd itself,
Who with her head, nimble in threats, approach'd
Art thou god to shepherd turn'd, [Reads. Seeing Orlando, it unlink'd itself,
And with indented glides did slip away
Into a bush: under which bush's shade
A lioness, with udders all drawn dry,
Lay couching, head on ground, with catlike watch,
When that the sleeping man should stir ; for ’tis
The royal disposition of that beast,
To prey on nothing, that doth seem as dead :
This seen, Orlando did approach the man,
And found, it was his brother, his elder brother. if the scorn of your bright eyne
Cel. 0, I have heard him speak of that same brother;
That liv'd ’mongst men.
Oli. And well he might so do,
For well I know he was unnatural.
Ros. But, to Orlando ; -did he leave him there,
food to the suck'd aud hungry lioness? Little knows this love in me:
Oli. Twice did he turn his back, and purpos'd so:
But kindness, nobler ever than revenge,
And nature, stronger than his just occasion,
Made him give battle to the lioness,
Who quickly fell before him; in which hurtling
From miserable slumber I awak'd.
Cel. Are you his brother?
Ros. Was it you he rescu'd ?
Cel. Was't you, that did so oft contrive to kill him?
[Exit Silvius. In brief, he led me to the gentle duke,
Who gave me fresh array, and entertainment,
fair ones: Pray you, if you know Committing me unto my brother's love;
Which all this while had bled; and now he fainted,
Brief, I recover'd him; bound up his wound;
And, after some small space, being strong at heart,
He sent me hither, stranger as I am,
To tell this story, that you might excuse
Dy'd in this blood, unto the shepherd youth,
That he in sport doth call his Rosalind.
Cel. Why, how now, Ganymede ? sweet Ganymede?
Oli. Look, he recovers.
Ros I would, I were at home.