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as we can.
cork out of thy mouth, that I nnay drink thy Jaq, God be with you; let's meet as little tidings.
Cel. So you may put a man in your belly. Ori. I do desire we may be better strangers.
Ros. Is he of God's making! What manner Jaq. I pray you, mar no more trees with of man? Is his head worth a hat, or bis chin writing love-songs in their barks. worth a beard?
Orl, I pray you, mar no more of my verses
Ros. Why, God will send more, if the man Jaq. Rosalind is your love's name?
Ori. There was no thought of pleasing you,
Ori. Just as high as my heart. Ros. Nay, but the devil take mocking; Jaq. You are full of pretty answers: Have speak sad brow, and true maid*.
you not been acquainted with goldsmiths' Cel. l'faith, coz, 'tis he.
wives, and conn'd them out of rings? Ros. Orlando?
Ori. Not so; but I answer you right painted Cel. Orlando.
cloth|l, from whence you have studied your Ros. Alas the day! what shall I do with questions. my doublet and hose?-What did he, when Jaq. You have a nimble wit; I think it thon saw'st bim? What said he? How look'd was made of Atalanta's heels. Will you sit he? Wherein went het? What makes he down with me? and we two will rail against here? Did he ask for me? Where remains he? our mistress the world, and all our misery, How parted he with thee? and when shalt Orl. I will chide no breather in the world, thou see him again? Answer me in one word. but myself; against whom I know most faults.
Cel. You must borrow me Garagantua's I Jaq. The worst fault you have, is to be in mouth first : 'tis a word too great for any love. mouth of this age's size: To say, ay, and no,
Orl. 'Tis a fault I will not change for your to these particulars, is more than to answer in best virtue. I am weary of you. a catechism.
Jaq. By my troth, I was seeking for a fool, Ros. But doth he know that I am in this when I found you. forest, and in man's apparel ? Looks he as Orl. He is drown'd in the brook; look but freshly as he did the day he wrestled? in, and you shall see him.
Cel. It is as easy to count atomies, as to Jaq. There shall I see mine own figure. resolve the propositions of a lover :--but take Orl. Which I take to be either a foul or a a taste of my finding him, and relish it with a cipher. good observance. I found him under a tree, Jaq, I'll tarry no longer with you : fare. like a dropp'd acorn.
well, good signior love. Ros. It may well be call'd Jove's tree, when Orl. I am glad of your departure; adieu, it drops forth such fruit.
good monsieur melancholy. Cel. Give me audience, good madam.
[Exit JAQUES.-Celia and ROSALIND Ros. Proceed.
come forward. Cel. There lay he, stretch'd along, like a Ros. I will speak to him like a saucy lac. wounded knight.
quey, and under that habit play the knave Ros. Though it be pity to see such a sight, with him.--Do you hear, forester? it well becomes the ground.
Orl. Very well; What would you? Cel. Cry, holla! to thy tongue, I pr’ythee; Ros. I pray you, what is't o'clock? it curvets very unseasonably. He was fur. Orl. You should ask me what time o'day; nish'd like a hunter.
there's no clock in the forest. Ros. O ominous! he comes to kill my heart. Ros. Then there is no true lover in the
Cel. I would sing my song without a bur. forest; else sighing every minute, and groan. den: thou bring'st me out of tune.
ing every hour, would detect the lazy foot of Ros. Do you not know I am a woman? time, as well as a clock. when I think, I must speak. Sweet, say on. Ori. And why not the swift foot of time?
Enter ORLANDO and JAQUES. had not that been as proper ? Cel. You bring me out:-Soft! comes he Ros. By no means, sir: Time travels in not here?
divers paçes with divers persons; I'll tell yon Ros. 'Tis he; slink by, and note him. who time anibles withal, who time trots
Cel. and Ros. retire. withal, who time gallops withal, and who he Jaq. I thank you for your company; but, stands still withal. good faith, I had as lief have been myself Orl, I pr'ythee, who doth be trot withal? alone.
Ros. Marry, he trots hard with a young - Orl. And so had I; but yet, for fashion maid, between the contract of her marriage, sake, I thank you too for your society. and the day it is solemnized : if the interim • Speak seriously and honestly. + How was he dressed? The giant of Rabelais.
Motes An allusion to the moral sentences on old tapestry hangings.
be but a se’nnight, time's pace is so hard that your having in beard is a younger brother's it seems the length of seven years.
revenue :--Then your hose should be ungar. Orl. Who ambles time withal?
ter'd, your bónnet unbanded, your sleeve an. Ros. With a priest that lacks Latin, and a buttoned, your shoe untied, and every thing rich man that hath not the gout: for the one about you demonstrating a careless desolation. sleeps easily, because he cannot study; and But you are no such man; you are rather the other lives merrily, because he feels no point-device || in your accoutrements; as loving pain: the one lacking the burden of lean and yourself, than seeming the lover of any other. wasteful learning; the other knowing no bur- Orl. Fair youth, I would I could make den of heavy tedious penury: These time thee believe I lové. ambles withal.
Ros. Me believe it? you may as soon make Orl. Who doth he gallop withal?
her that you love believe it; which, I war Ros. With a thief to the gallows: for rant, she is apter to do, than to confess she though he go as softly as foot can fall, he does : that is one of the points in the which thinks himself too soon there.
women still give the lie to their consciences Orl. Who stays it still withal ?
But, in good sooth, are you he that hangs the Ros. With lawyers in the vacation : for verses on the trees, wherein Rosalind is so they sleep between term and term, and then admired ? they perceive not how time moves.
Orl. I swear to thee, youth, by the white Ori. Where dwell you, pretty youth? hand of Rosalind, I am that he, that unforta
Ros. With this shepherdess, my sister; nate he. here in the skirts of the forest, like fringe upon Ros. But are you so much in love as your a petticoat.
rhymes speak? Orl. Are you native of this place?
Orl. Neither rhyme nor reason can express Ros. As the coney, that you see dwell how much. where she is kindled.
Ros. Love is merely a madness; and, I tell Orl. Your accent is something finer than you, deserves as well a dark house and a you could purchase in so removed a dwelling. whip, as madmen do: and the reason why
Ros. I have been told so of many: but, they are not so punished and cured, is, that indeed, an old religious uncle of mine taught the lunacy is so ordinary, that the whippers me to speak, who was in his youth an io-landt are in love too : Yet I profess curing it by man: one that knew courtship too well, for counsel. there he fell in love. I have heard him read Orl. Did you ever cure any so? many lectures against it; and I thank God, I Ros. Yes, one; and in this manner. He am not a woman, to be touch'd with so many was to imagine me his love, his mistress; and giddy offences as he hath generally tax'd their I set him every day to woo me: At which whole sex withal.
time would I, being but a moonish | youth, Orl. Can you remember any of the principal grieve, be effeminate, changeable, longing, evils, that he laid to the charge of women? and liking; proud, fantastical, apish, shallow,
Ros. There were none principal; they were inconstant, full of tears, full of smiles; for all like one another, as balt-pence are: every every passion something, and for no passion one fault seeming monstrous, till his fellow truly any thing, as boys and women are for fault came to match it.
the most part cattle of this colour: would now Orl. I pr'ythee, recount some of them. like him, now loath himn; then entertain him,
Ros. No; I will not cast away my physic, then furswear him; now weep for him, then but on those that are sick. There is a man spit at him ; that I drave my suitor from his haunts the forest, that abuses our young mad humour of love, to a living humour of plants with carving Rosalind on their barks; madness; which was, to forswear the full hangs odes upon hawthorns, and elegies on stream of the world, and to live in a nook brambles: all, forsooth, deifying the name of merely monastic : And thus I cured him; and Rosalind : if I could meet that fancy-monger, this way will I take upon me to wash your I would give him some good counsel, for he liver as clean as a sound sheep's heart, that seems to bave the quotidian of love upon him. there shall not be one spot of love in't.
Orl. I am he that is so love-shaked; I pray Ort. I would not be cured, youth, you, tell me your remedy.
Ros. I would cure you, if you would but Ros. There is none of my uncle's marks call me Rosalind, and come every day to my upon you: he taught me how to know a man cote, and woo me. in love; in which cage of rushes, I am sure, Orl. Now, by the faith of my love, I will; you are not prisoner.
tell me where it is. Orl. What were his marks?
Ros. Go with me to it, and I'll show it you: Ros. A lean cheek; which you have not: a ani, by the way, you shall tell me where in blue eye, and sunken; which you have not: the forest yon live: Will you go? an unquestionable spirit 1; which you have Orl. With all my heart, good youth. not: a beard neglected; which you have not: Ros. Nay, you must call me Rosalind -but I pardon you for that; for, simply, Come, sister, will you go [Ereunt. • Sequestered.
1 A spirit averse to conversation. ý Estate. # Over-exact.
alone ;--No, no; the noblest deer hath Enter TOUCHSTONE and AUDREY; JAQUES them as huge as the rascal ll. Is the single
at a distance, observing them. man therefore blessed ? No: as a walld town Touch. Come apace, good Audrey; I will is more worthier than a village, so is the fetch up your goais, Audrey: And how, Au- forehead of a married man more honourable drey ? am I the man yet? Doth my simple than the bare brow of a bachelor: and by feature content you?
how much defence is better than no skill, Aud. Your features! Lord warrant us! by so much is a horn more precious than to what features?
want. Touch. I am here with thee and thy goats,
Enter Sir OLIVER MAR-TEXT. as the most capricious * poet, honest Ovid, Here comes sir Oliver :-Sir Oliver Mar-text, was among the Goths.
you are well met: Will you despatch us here Jaq. O knowledge ill-inhabited t! worse under this tree, or shall we go with yon to than Jove in a thatch'd house! [Aside. your chapel?
Touch. When a man's verses cannot be un- Sir Oli. Is there none here to give the derstood, nor a man's good wit seconded with woman? the forward child, understanding, strikes a Touch. I will not take her on gift of any man more dead than a great reckoning in a man. little room :-Truly, I would the gods bad Sir Oli. Truly, she must be given, or the made thee poetical.
marriage is not lawful. Aud. I do not know what poetical is: Is Jaq. [ Discovering himself.] Proceed, proit honest in deed, and word? Is it a true ceed ; I'll give her. thing?
Touch. Good even, good master What ye Touch. No, truly; for the truest poetry is call't : How do you, sir ? You are very well the most feigning; and lovers are given to met: God'ilt you** for your last company: I poetry; and what they swear in poetry, may am very glad to see you :-Even a toy in be said, as lovers, they do feign.
hand here, sir :-Nay ; pray, be covered. Aud. Do you wish then, that the gods had Jaq. Will you be married, motley? made me poetical?
Touch. As the ox hath his bow it, sir, the Touch. I do, truly: for thou swear'st to horse bis curb, and the falcon her bells, so me, thou art honest; now, if thou wert a man hath his desires: and as pigeons bill, so poet, I might have some hope thou didst wedlock would be nibbling. Seign.
Jaq. And will you, being a man of your Aud. Would you not have me honest ? breeding, be married under a bush, like a beg
Touch. No truly, unless thou wert hard- gar? Get you to church, and have a good favour'd: for honesty coupled to beauty, is priest that can tell you what marriage is : to have honey a sauce to sugar.
this fellow will but join you together as they Jaq. A material fool I!
(Aside. join wainscot; then one of you will prove a Aud. Well, I am not fair; and therefore I shrunk pannel, and, like green timber, warp, pray the gods make me honest!
warp. Touch. Truly, and to cast away honesty Touch. I am not in the mind but I were upon a foul slut, were to put good meat into better to be married of him than of another : an unclean dish.
for he is not like to marry me well; and not Aud. I am not a slut, though I thank the being well married, it will be a good excuse gods I am foulg.
for me hereafter to leave my wife. (Aside. Touch. Well, praised be the gods for thy Jaq. Go thon with me, and let me counsel foulness! sluttishness may come hereafter. thee. But be it as it may be,
will marry thee: ouch. Come, sweet Audrey; and to that end, I have been with Sir Oliver We must be married, or we must live in baw. Mar-text, the vicar of the next village; who dry, Farewell, good master Oliver! hath promised to meet me in this place of the Not- sweet Oliver, forest, and to couple us.
O brave Oliver,
Begone, I say, a fearful heart, stagger in this attempt; for I will not to wedding wi’ thee. here we have no temple but the wood, no (Exeunt Jaq. Tover. and AUDREY. assembly but horn-beasts. But what though? Sir Oli. "Tis no matter; ne'er a fantastical Coorage! As horns are odious, they are ne- knave of them all shall flout me ont of my cessary. It is said, -Many a man knows no calling.
[Exit. end of his goods: right; many a man has SCENE IV. The same. Before a Cottage. good horns, and knows no end of them. Well,
Enter ROSALIND and Celia. that is the dowry of his wife; 'tis none of his cwn getting. Horns? Even so :--Poor men Ros. Never talk to me, I will weep. • Lascivious. + Ill-lodged. 1 A fool with matter in him..
Homely. | Lean deer are called rascal deer.
The art of fencing. ** God reward you.
Cel. Do, I prythee; but yet have the grace | Bring us unto this sight, and you shall say to consider, that tears do not become a man. I'll prove a busy actor in their play. (Exeunt.
Ros. But have I not cause to weep? Cel. As good cause as one would desire; SCENE V. Another part of the Forest. therefore weep.
Enter Silvius and PHEBE. Ros. His very hair is of the dissembling Sil. Sweet Phebe, do not scorn me; do colour.
not, Phebe : Cel. Something browner than Judas's : Say, that you love me not; but say not so marry, his kisses are Judas's own children. In bitterness. The common executioner,
Ros. l'faith, his hair is of a good colour. Whose heart the accustom'd sight of death
Cel. An excellent colour: your chestnut makes hard, was ever the only colour.
Falls not the axe upon the humbled neck, Ros. And his kissing is as full of sanctity But first begs pardon; Will you sterner be as the touch of holy bread.
Than he that dies and lives by bloody drops? Cel. He bath bought a pair of cast lips of Enter ROSALIND, Celia, and Corin, at a Diana: a nun of winter's sisterhood kisses
distance. not more religiously; the very ice of chastity Phe. I would not be thy executioner; is in them.
I fly thee, for I would not injure thee. Ros. But why did he swear he would come Thou tell'st me, there is murder in mine egę: this morning, and comes not?
'Tis pretty, sure, and very probable, [things, Cel. Nay certainly, there is no truth in That eyes,--that are the frail'st and softest him.
Who shut their coward gates on atomies,
Ros. Do you think so?
Should be call'd tyrants, butchers, murderers! Cel. Yes: I think he is not a pick-purse, Now I do frown on thee with all my heart; por a horse-stealer; but for his verity in And, if mine eyes can wound, now let them love, I do think him as concave as a cover'd
kill thee; goblet, or a worm-eaten nut.
Now counterfeit to swoon; why now fall down; Ros, Not true in love?
Or, if thou canst not, 0, for shamne, for shame, Cel. Yes, when he is in; but, I think he is Lie not, to say mine eyes are murderers. not in,
Now show the wound mine eye hath made Ros. You have heard him swear downright,
in thee :
Scratch thee but with a pin, and there remains Cel. Was is not is: besides, the oath of a Some scar of it; lean bat upon a rusli, lover is no stronger than the word of a tap- The cicatrice and capable impressure ster; they are both the confirmers of false Thy palm some moment keeps : but now reckonings : He attends here in the forest on the duke your father.
Which I have darted at thee, hurt thee uot; Ros. I met the duke yesterday, and had Nor, I am sure, there is no force in eyes much question* with him: He asked me, of That can do hurt. what parentage I was; I told hijn, of as good Sil.
O dear Phebe, as he; so he laugh'd, and let me go. But If ever, (as that ever may be near) (of fancy 1, what talk we of fathers, when there is such a You meet in some fresh cheek the power man as Orlando ?
Then shall you know the wounds invisible Cel. 0, that's a brave man! he writes That love's keen arrows make. brave verses, speaks brave words, swears Phe.
But, till that time, brave oaths, and breaks them bravely, quite Come not thou near me: and, when that traverse, athwart the heart of his lovert; as
time comes, a puny tilter, that spurs his horse but on one Amict me with thy mocks, pity me not: side, breaks his statt like a noble goose: but As, till that time, I shall not pity thee. all's brave, that youth mounts, and folly Ros. And why, I pray you? (Advancing.) guides :- Who comes here?
Who might be your mother,
That you insult, exult, and all at once, Cor. Mistress, and inaster, you have oft Over the wretched ? What though you have inquired
more beauty, After the shepherd that complain’d of love; (As, by my faith, I see no more in you Who you saw sitting by me on the turf, Than without candle may go dark to bed,) Praising the proud disdainful shepherdéss Must you be therefore proud and pitiless ? That was his mistress.
Why, what means this? Why do you look Cel.
Well, and what of him? on me? Cor. If you will see a pageant truly play'd, I see no more in you, than in the ordinary Between the pale complexion of true love Of nature's sale-work :-od's my liule life! And the red glow of scorn and proud disdain, I think, she means to tangle my eyes too :Go hence a little, and I shall conduct you, No, 'faith, proud mistress, hope not after it; If you will mark it.
'Tis not your inky brows, your black-silk bair, Ros.
0, come, let us remove; Your bugle e-balls, nor your cheek of cream, The sight of lovers feedeth those in love ;- That can entame my spirits to your worship
* Conversation, Mistress. Love.
You foolish shepherd, wherefore do you follow | But since that thou canst talk of love so well, her,
Thy company, which erst was irksome to me, Like foggy south, puffing with wind and rain ? I will endure; and I'll employ thee too: You are a thousand times a properer man,
But do not look for further recompense, Than she a woman : 'Tis such fools as you, Than thine own gladness that thou art em. That make the world full of ill-favour'd children: ploy'd. 'Tis not her glass, but you, that flatters her ; Sil. So holy, and so perfect is my love, And out of you she sees herself more proper, And I in such a poverty of grace, Than any of her lineaments can show her.- That I shall think it a most pleuteous crop But, mistress, know yourself ; down on your To glean the broken ears after the man [then knees,
[love: That the main harvest reaps : loose now and And thank heaven, fasting, for a good man's A scatter'd smile, and that I'll live upon. For I must tell you friendly in your ear,
Phe. Know'st thou the youth that spoke to Sell when you can; you are not for all markets: me ere while ? Cry the man mercy; love him; take his offer; Sil. Not very well, but I have met him oft; Foul is most foul, being foul to be a scoffer. And he hath bougbt the cottage, and the bounds, So take her to thee, shepherd :--fare you well. That the old carlot * once was master of, Phe. Sweet youth, I pray you, chide a year Phe. Think not I love him, though I ask together;
for him ; I had rather hear you chide, than this man woo. 'Tis but a peevish † boy :-yet he talks well;
Ros. He's fallen in love with her foulness, But what care I for words? yet words do well, and she'll fall in love with my anger: If it be so, When he that speaks them pleases those that as fast as she answers thee with frowning It is a pretty youth:--not very pretty :-[hear. looks, I'll sauce her with bitter words.-Why But, sure, he's proud ; and yet his pride belook you so upon me?
comes bim :
[him Phe. For no ill will I bear you.
He'll make a proper man: The best thing in Ros. I pray you, do not fall in love with me, Is his complexion ; and faster than bis tongue For I am falser than vows made in wine : Did make offence, his eye did heal it up. Besides, I like you not : If you will know my He is not tall; yet for his years he's tall : house,
His leg is bat so so; and yet 'tis well: T'is at the tuft of olives, here hard by : There was a pretty redness in his lip ; Will you go, sister?--Shepherd, ply her hard :- A little riper and more lusty red (difference Come, sister :-Shepherdess, look on himn Than that mix'd in his cheek; 'twas just the better,
[see, Betwixt the constant red, and mingled damask. And be not proud : though all the world could There be some women, Silvius, had they None could be so abus'd in sight as he.
mark'd him Come, to our flock,
In parcels as I did, would have goue near (Éreunt RosALIND, CELIA, and CORIN. To fall in love with him : but, for my part, Phe. Dead shepherd ! now I find thy saw I love him not, nor bate him not; and yet of might;
(sight ? I have more cause to hate him than to love Who ever loved, that lored not at first For what had he to do to chide at me? [him: Sil. Sweet Phebe,
He said, mine eyes were black, and my hair Phe. Ha! what say'st thou, Silvius?
black; Sil. Sweet Phebe, pity me. [Silvius. Aud, now I am remember'd, scorn'd at me : Phe. Why, I ain sorry for thee, gentle I marvel, why I answer'd not again :
Sil. Wherever sorrow is, relief would be ; But that's all one ; omittance is no quittance. If you do sorrow at my grief in love, I'll write to him a very taunting letter, By giving love, your sorrow and my grief And thou shalt bear it; Wilt thou, Silvius? Were both extermined. [neighbourly? Sil. Phebe, with all my heart. Phe. Thou hast my love ; Is not that Phe.
I'll write it straight; Sil. I would have you.
The matter's in my head, and in my heart : Phe. Why, that were covetousness. I will be bitter with him, and passing short: Silvius, the time was, that I hated thee; Go with me, Silvius. And yet it is not, that I bear thee love :
Jaq. I am so; I do love it better than Entor ROSALIND, CELIA, (nd J AQUES.
Pos. Those, that are in extremity of either, Jaq. I prøythee, pretty youth, let me be are abomipable fellows; and betray thembetter acquainted with thee.
selves to every modern censure, worse than Ros. They say, you are a melancholy fellow. I drunkards.