And the red glow of scorn and proud disdain,
Go hence a little, and I shall conduct you,
If you will mark it.

Ros. O, come, let us remove;
The sight of lovers feedeth those in love :-
Bring us but to this sight, and you shall say
I'll prove a busy actor in their play.

SCENE V.

[Exeunt.

Another Part of the Forest. Enter SILVIUS, and

PHEBE.

Sil. Sweet Phebe, do not scorn me; do not,

Phebe:

Say, that you love me not; but say not so

In bitterness: The common executioner,

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Whose heart the accustom'd sight of death makes

hard,

Falls not the axe upon the humbled neck,
But first begs pardon: Will you sterner be
Than he that dies and lives by bloody drops?

Enter ROSALIND, CELIA, and CORIN.

Phe. I would not be thy executioner;
I fly thee, for I would not injure thee.
Thou tell'st me, there is murder in mine eyes
Tis pretty, sure, and very probable,

620

Who

That eyes, that are the frail'st and softest things,

3

Who shut their coward gates on atomies, -
Should be call'd tyrants, butchers, murderers!
Now do I frown on thee with all my heart;
And, if mine eyes can wound, now let them kill thee :
Now counterfeit to swoon; why now fall down;
Or, if thou can'st not, oh, for shame, for shame,
Lie not, to say mine eyes are murderers!
Now shew the wound mine eyes have made in thee :
Scratch thee but with a pin, and there remains 630
Some scar of it; lean but upon a rush,
The cicatrice and capable impressure

Thy palm some moment keeps: but now mine eyes,
Which I have darted at thee, hurt thee not;

Nor, I am sure, there is no force in eyes

That can do hurt.

Sil. O dear Phebe,

If ever (as that ever may be near)

You meet in some fresh cheek the power of fancy, Then shall you know the wounds invisible

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Phe. But, 'till that time,

That love's keen arrows make.

Come not thou near me: and, when that time comes,

Afflict me with thy mocks, pity me not;

As, 'till that time, I shall not pity thee.

Ros. And why, I pray you?-Who might be your

mother,

That you insult, exult, and all at once,

Over the wretched? What though you have beauty

(As, by my faith, I see no more in you

Than without candle may go dark to bed),

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Must

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Must you be therefore proud and pitiless?
Why, what means this? Why do you look on me?
I see no more in you, than in the ordinary
Of nature's sale-work:-Od's, my little lifet
I think, she means to tangle mine eyes too :-
No, 'faith proud mistress, hope not after it;
'Tis not your inky brows, your black-silk hair,
Your bugle eye-balls, nor your cheek of cream,
That can entame my spirits to your worship.-
You foolish shepherd, wherefore do you follow her
Like foggy south, puffing with wind and rain?
You are a thousand times a properer man,
Than she a woman: 'Tis such fools as you,
That make the world full of ill-favour'd children:
*Tis not her glass, but you, that flatters her;
And out of you she sees herself more proper,
Than any of her lineaments can show her.-
But, mistress, know yourself; down on your knees,
And thank heaven, fasting, for a good man's love:
For I must tell you friendly in your ear,-
Sell when you can; you are not for all markets:
Cry the man mercy; love him; take his offer;
Foul is most foul, being foul to be a scoffer.
So, take her to thee, shepherd; -fare you well.

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Phe. Sweet youth, I pray you chide a year toge

ther;

I had rather hear you chide, than this man woo.

Ros. [Aside.] He's fallen in love with her foulness, and she'll fall in love with my anger:-If it be so, as fast as she answers thee with frowning looks, I'll sauce her with bitter words. - Why look you so upon

me?

Phe. For no ill will I bear you.

Ros. I pray you do not fall in love with me, For I am falser than vows made in wine :

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Besides, I like you not: If you will know my house, 'Tis at the tuft of olives, here hard by :

Will you go, sister? - Shepherd, ply her hard :Come, sister:- Shepherdess, look on him better, And be not proud: though all the world could see, None could be so abus'd in sight as he.

690 Come, to our flock. (Exeunt Ros. CEL. and CORIN. Phe. Dead shepherd, now I find thy saw of might;

Who ever lov'd, that lov'd not at first sight?

Sil. Sweet Phebe!

Phe. Hah! what say'st thou, Silvius?

Sil. Sweet Phebe, pity me.

Phe. Why, I am sorry for thee, gentle Silvius.
Sil. Wherever sorrow is, relief would be :

If you do sorrow at my grief in love,

By giving love, your sorrow and my grief

Were both extermin'd.

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Phe. Thou hast my love; Is not that neighbourly?

Sil. I would have you.

Phe. Why, that were covetousness,

Silvius, the time was, that I hated thee;

And yet it is not, that I bear thee love:

But since that thou canst talk of love so well,

Thy company, which erst was irksome to me,
I will endure; and I'll employ thee too:

Bu

But do not look for further recompence,
Than thine own gladness that thou art employ'd.
Sil. So holy, and so perfect is my love,

And I in such a poverty of grace,
That I shall think it a most plenteous crop
To glean the broken ears after the man
That the main harvest reaps: loose now and then
A scatter'd smile, and that I'll live upon.

710

Phe. Know'st thou the youth that spoke to me ere. while ?

Sil. Not very well, but I have met him oft; And he hath bought the cottage, and the bounds, 720 That the old carlot once was master of.

Phe. Think not I love him, though I ask for him; 'Tis but a peevish boy :-yet he talks well;But what care I for words? yet words do well, When he that speaks them pleases those that hear. It is a pretty youth;-Not very pretty :

But, sure, he's proud; and yet his pride becomes him:
He'll make a proper man: The best thing in him
Is his complexion; and faster than his tongue
Did make offence, his eye did heal it up.

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He is not very tall; yet for his years he's tall:

His leg is but so so; and yet 'tis well:

There was a pretty redness in his lip;

A little riper, and more lusty red

Than that mix'd in his cheek; 'twas just the difference Betwixt the constant red, and mingled damask. There be some women, Silvius, had they mark'd him In parcels as I did, would have gone near