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And the red glow of scorn and proud disdain,
Ros. O, come, let us remove ;
Sil. Sweet Phebe, do not scorn me ; do not, Phebe :
Enter ROSALIND, Celia, and CORIN, at a distance.
Sil. O dear Phebe,
 Çicatrice is here not very properly used; it is the scar of a wound. Capable impressure, hollow mark. JOHNSON.
You meet in some fresh cheek the power of fancy,
Phe. But, till that time,
be your mother, : That you insult, exult, and all at once, Over the wretched ? What though you have more beauty, (As, by my faith, I see no more in you Than without candle may go dark to bed,) 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 :9-Od's my little life ! I think, she means to tangle my 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 fogsy 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.
Phe. Sweet youth, I pray you chide a year together ;
 It is common for the poets to express cruelty by saying, of those who commit it, that they were born of rocks, or suckled by tigresses. JOHNS.
(9) i. e. Those works which nature makes up, carelessly and without exactness. The allusion is to the practice of mechanics, whose work bespoke is more elaborate than that which is made up for chance customers, or to sell in quantities to retailers, which is called sale-work. WARBURTON.
 i.e. the ugly seem most ugly, when, though ugly, they are scoffers. JOH.
I had rather hear you chide, than this man woo.
Ros. 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 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 : 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.-% Come, to our flock.
[Exe. Ros. CEL. and COR. Phe. Dead shepherd ! now I find thy saw of might; Who ever lov'd, that lov’d not at first sight ? 3
Sil. Sweet Phebe,-
Sil. Wherever sorrow is, relief would be ;
you do sorrow at my grief in love,
Phe. Thou hast my love ; Is not that neighbourly
Phe. Why, that were covetousness.
Sil. So holy, and so perfect is my love,
 Though all mankind could look on you, none could be so deceived as to think you beautiful but he. JOHNSON
 This line is from Marlowe's Hero and Leander. STEEV.
(4) Perhaps Shakspeare owed this image to the second chapter of Ruth :"Let fall some handfuls of purpose for her, and leave them that she may flean them." STEEVENS,
13* VOL. II.
That the main harvest reaps : loose now and then
Phe. Think not I love him, though I ask for him ;
Sil. Phebe, with all my heart.
Phe. I'll write it straight ;
(5) Carlot, i e. peasant, from carl or churl. DOUCE
 “ Cunstant red” is uniform red. Mingled vlamask” is the silk of that name, in which, by a various direction of the threads, many lighter shades of the same colour are exbibited, STEEVENS.
SCENE I.. The same. Enter ROSALIND, CELIA, and JAQUES.
Faques. I PR’YTHEE, pretty youth, let me be better acquainted with thee.
Ros. They say, you are a melancholy fellow.
Ros. Those, that are in extremity of either, are abominable fellows; and betray themselves to every modern censure, worse than drunkards.
Jaq. Why, 'tis good to be sad and say nothing.
Jag. I have neither the scholar's melancholy, which is emulation; nor the musician's, which is fantastical ; nor the courtier's, which is proud ; nor the soldier's, which is ambitious; nor the lawyer's, which is politic; nor the lady's, which is nice ;7 nor the lover's, which is all these : but it is a melancholy of mine own, compounded of many simples, extracted from many objects : and, indeed, the sundry contemplation of my travels, in which my often rumination wraps me, is a most humorous sadness.
Ros. A traveller! By my faith, you have great reason to be sad : I fear, you have sold your own lands, to see other men's ; then, to have seen much, and to have nothing, is to have rich eyes and poor hands. Jaq. Yes, I have gained my experience.
Enter ORLANDO. Ros. And your experience makes you sad: I had rather have a fool to make me merry, than experience to make me sad ; and to travel for it too.
Orla. Good day, and happiness, dear Rosalind !
Jaq. Nay then, God be wi' you, an you talk in blank verse.
[Exit. Ros. Farewell, monsieur traveller : Look, you lisp, and wear strange suits ; disable all the benefits of your own country ; be out of love with your nativity, and almost chide God for making you that countenance you are ; or I will scarce think you have swam in a gon