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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.

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

Cel. I'faith, coz, 'tis he.

Ros. Orlando ?

Cel. Orlando.

Ros. Alas the day! what shall I do with my doublet 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:9 '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.

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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?

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 a good observance. I found him under a tree, like a dropp'd acorn.

Ros. It may well be call'd 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.

Cel. Cry, holla! to thy tongue, I pr'ythee; it curvets very unseasonably.' He was furnish'd like a hunter.

[8]- -speak sad brow, and true maid, i. e. speak with a grave countenance, and as truly as thou art a virgin; speak seriously and honestly. RITSON. [9] Rosalind requires nine questions to be answered in one word. Celia tells her that a word of such magnitude is too big for any mouth but that of Garagantua the giant of Rabelais. JOHNS. Garagantua swallowed five pilgrims, their

staves and all, in a sallad. STEEVENS.

[1] Holla was a term of the manege, by which the rider restrained and stopp'd his

horse. MALONE.

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

Cel. I would sing my song without a burden thou bring'st me out of tune.

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

Enter ORLANDO and JAQUES..

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

[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, I thank you too for your society.

Jaq. God be with you; let's meet as little as we can. Orla. I do desire we may be better strangers.

Jaq. I pray you, mar no more trees with writing lovesongs in their barks.

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

Jaq. Rosalind is your love's name?

Orla. Yes, just.

Jaq. I do not like her name.

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

Jaq. What stature is she of?

Orla. Just as high as my heart.

Jaq. You are full of pretty answers: Have you not been acquainted with goldsmiths' wives, and conn'd them out of rings?

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

[2] This alludes to the fashion in old tapestry hangings, of mottos and moral sentences from the mouths of the figures worked or painted in them. THEOBALD. The rooms in public houses were usually hung with what Falstaff calls water-work. On these hangings, perhaps, moral sentences were depicted as issuing from the mouths of the different characters. STEEVENS.

I suppose Orlando means to say, that Jaques's questions have no more of novelty or shrewdness in them than the trite maxims of the painted cloth. The following lines, which are found in a book with this fantastic title.—No whipping nor tripping, but a friendly kind of snipping, 8vo. 1601, may serve as a specimen of painted cloth language:

"Read what is written on the painted cloth:
"Do no man wrong; be good unto the poor;
"Beware the mouse, the maggot and the moth,
"And ever have an eye unto the door;

"Trust not a fool, a villain, nor a whore;

"Go neat, not gay, and spend but as you spare;

"And turn the colt to pasture with the mare," &c MAL

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 will not change for your best virtue. I am weary of you.

Jaq. 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 shall I see mine own figure.

Orla. Which I take to be either a fool, or a cypher. Jaq. I'll tarry no longer with you: farewell, 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?

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.

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

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

Orla. I pr'ythee, who doth he trot withal?

Ros. Marry, he trots hard with a young maid, between the contract of her marriage, and the day it is solemnized. if the interim be but a se'nnight, time's pace is so hard that it seems the length of seven years.

Orla. Who ambles time withal?

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. Orla. Who doth he gallop withal ?

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Ros. With a thief to the gallows for though he go as softly as foot can fall, he thinks himself too soon there. : Orla. Who stays it still withal?

Ros. With lawyers in the vacation: 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.

Orla. Are you 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.

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

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Ros. There were none principal; they were all like one another, as half-pence are every one fault seeming monstrous, till his fellow fault came to match it.

Orla. I pr'ythee, recount some of them.

Ros. No; I will not cast away my physic, 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-shaked; I pray you, tell me your remedy.

J.

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?

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 rhymes speak? Orla. Neither rhyme nor reason can express how much. 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 punished and cured, is, that the lunacy is so ordinary, that the whippers are in love too: Yet I profess curing it by counsel.

He was to im

Orla. Did you ever cure any so? Ros. Yes, one; and in this manner. agine me his love, his mistress; and I set him every day to woo me: At which time would I, being but a moonish youth, grieve, be effeminate, changeable, longing, and liking; proud, fantastical, apish, shallow, inconstant,

[3] i. e. a mind not inquisitive, a mind indifferent to common objects, and negligent of common occurrences. Here Shakespeare has used a passive for an active mode of speech: so, in a former scene," the Duke is too disputable for me," i. e. too disputatious, JOHNSON.

May it not mean, unwilling to be conversed with? CHAMIER.

Mr. Chamier is right in supposing that it means a spirit averse to conversation. In the very next scene, Rosalind says-" I met the Duke yesterday, and had much question with him." And in the last scene, Jaques de Bois says "The Duke was converted after some question with a religious man." In which places, question means discourse or conversation, M. MASON.

Point-device, i. e. exact, drest with finical nicety.
Moonish, i. e. variable. STEEVENS.

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MALONE.

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