ePub 版

Seeing Orlando, it unlink'd itself,
And with indented glides did flip away
Into a bufh; under which bufh's fhade

A lionefs, with udders all drawn dry,

Lay couching head on ground, with cat-like watch When that the fleeping man should stir; for 'tis The royal difpofition of that beaft,

To prey on nothing that doth feem as dead;'
This feen, Orlando did approach the man,

And found it was his brother, his eldest brother."
Cel. O, I have heard him speak of that fame brother,
And he did render him the most unnatural

That liv'd 'mongst men.

Oli. And well he might fo do;

For, well I know, he was unnatural.

Rof. But, to Orlando; did he leave him there, Food to the fuck'd and hungry lionefs?

Oli. Twice did he turn his back, and purpos'd fo: But kindness, nobler ever than revenge,

And nature ftronger than his just occafion,
Made him give battle to the lionefs,

Who quickly fell before him; in which hurtling
From miferable flumber I awak'd.

Cel. Are you his brother?

Rof. Was it you he refcu'd?

Cel. Was it you that did so oft contrive to kill him?
Oli. 'Twas I; but 'tis not I; I do not fhame

To tell you what I was, fince my converfion
So fweetly taftes, being the thing I am.
Rof. But for the bloody napkin ?--
Oli. By, and by.

When from the first to laft, betwixt us two,
Tears our recountments had most kindly bath'd,
As how I came into that defart place;

In brief, he led me to the gentle Duke,


gave me


array and entertainment, Committing me unto my brother's love;

Who led me inftantly unto his cave,

There ftripp'd himfelf, and here upon his arm

The lione's had torn fome flesh away,

Which all this while had bled; and now he fainted,

And cry'd, in fainting, upon Rofalind.

M m 2


Brief, I recover'd him; bound up his wound;
And, after fome fmall space, being ftrong at heart,
He fent me hither, ftranger as I am,

To tell this story, that you might excufe
His broken promife; and to give this napkin,
Dy'd in his blood, unto the fhepherd youth,
That he in fport doth call his Rofalind.

Cel. Why, how now Ganymede, fweet Ganymede ?
[Rof. faints.
Oli. Many will fwoon when they do look on blood.
Cel. There is more in it:-Coufin Ganymede !!
Oli. Look, he recovers.

Rof. Would I were at home!

Cel. We'll lead you thither.

I pray you, will you take him by the arm?

Oli. Be of good cheer, youth; you a man ? you lack

a man's heart.

Rof. I do fo, I confefs it. Ah, Sir, a body would think this was well counterfeited. I pray you, tell your brother how well I counterfeited: heigh ho!

Oli. This was not counterfeit, there is too great testimony in your complexion, that it was a paffion of earnest.

Ref. Counterfeit, I affure you.

Oii. Well then, take a good heart, and counterfeit to be a man.

[ocr errors]

Rof. So I do: but, i'faith, I should have been ag woman by right.

Gel. Come, you look paler and paler; pray you, draw homewards; good Sir, go with us.

Oli. That will I; for I must bear answer back,

How you excufe my brother, Rofalind.

[ocr errors]

Rof. I fhall devife fomething; but, I pray you, commend my counterfeiting to him, Will you go?!


[blocks in formation]

Clown. E fhall find a time, Audrey; patience,


gentle Audrey.


Aud. Faith, the priest was good enough for all the old gentleman's faying.

[ocr errors]

Clo. A most wicked Sir Oliver, Audrey; a most vile Mar-text! but, Audrey, there is a youth here in the forest lays claim to you.

Aud. Ay, I know who 'tis, he hath no interest in me in the world; here comes the man you mean.

Enter William.

Glo. It is meat and drink to me to fee a clown; by my troth, we that have good wits have much to answer for: we shall be flouting; we cannot hold.

Will. Good ev'n, Audrey.

Aud. God ye good ev'n, William.

Will. And good ev'n to you, Sir.

Glo. Good ev'n, gentle friend. Cover thy head, cover thy head; nay, pr'ythee be cover'd. How old are you, friend?

Will. Five and twenty, Sir.

Clo. A ripe age. Is thy name William?

Will. William, Sir.

Clo. A fair name. Waft born i' th' foreft here?

Will. Ay, Sir, I thank God.

Clo. Thank God: a good answer. Art rich.
Will. 'Faith, Sir, fo, fo.

Clo. So, fo, is good, very good, very excellent good and yet it is not: it is but fo, fo. Art thou wife?

Will. Ay, Sir, I have a pretty wit.

Clo. Why, thou fay'ft well: I do now remember a faying, The fool doth think he is wife, but the wife man knows himself to be a fool. The heathen philosopher, when he had a defire to cat a grape, would open his lips when he put it into his mouth; meaning thereby, that grapes were made to eat, and lips to open. You do love this maid?

Will. I do, Sir.

Clo. Give me your hand. Art thou learned?

Will, No, Sir.

Clo. Then learn this of me; to have, is to have. For it is a figure in rhetoric, that drink being poured out of a cup into a glafs, by filling the one doth empty


the other. For all your writers do confent that ipfe is he now you are not ipfe; for I am he..

Will. Which he, Sir.

Clo. He, Sir, that must marry this woman; therefore you, Clown, abandon, which is in the vulgar, leave the fociety, which in the boorifh, is company, of this female; which in the common, is woman; which together is, abandon the fociety of this female: or Clown, thou perifheft; or, to thy better understanding, dieft; or, to wit, I kill thee, make thee away, tranflate thy life into death, thy liberty into bondage; I will deal in poifon with thee, or in baftinado, or in fteel; I will bandy with thee in faction; I will over-run thee with policy; I will kill thee a hundred and fifty ways; therefore tremble and depart.

Aud. Do, good William.

Will. God reft you merry, Sir.

Enter Corin.


Cor. Our mafter and miftrefs feek you; come away, away.

Clo. Trip, Audrey; trip, Audrey; I attend, I attend. [Exeunt. SCENE II. Enter Orlando and Oliver. Orla. Is't poffible, that on fo little acquaintance you fhould like her? that, but feeing, you should love her? and loving, woo? and wooing, the should grant? and will you perfevere to enjoy her?

Oli. Neither call the giddinefs of it in question, the poverty of her, the fmall acquaintance, my fudden wooing, nor her fudden confenting; but fay with me, I love Aliena; fay with her, that the loves me; confent with both, that we may enjoy each other; it shall be to your good; for my father's houfe, and all the revenue that was old Sir Rowland's, will I eftate upon you, and here live and die a fhepherd.

Enter Rofalind.

Orla. You have my confent. Let your wedding be to-morrow; thither will I invite the Duke, and all his contented followers; go you, and prepare Aliena; for, look you, here comes my Rofalind.


Ref. God fave you, brother.

Oli. And you, fair filter.

Rof. Oh, my dear Orlando, how it grieves me to fee thee wear thy heart in a scarf.

Orla. It is my arm.

Ref. I thought thy heart had been wounded with the claws of a lion.

Orla. Wounded it is, but with the eyes of a lady. Rof. Did your brother tell you how I counterfeited to fwoon, when he fhew'd me your handkerchief? Orla. Ay, and greater wonders than that.

Rof. O, I know where you are: nay, 'tis true: there was never any thing fo fudden, but the fight of two rams, and Cæfar's thrafonical brag of I came, faw, and overcame: for your brother and my fifter no fooner met, but they look'd; no fooner look'd but they lov'd; no fooner lov'd, but they figh'd; no fooner figh'd, but they afk'd one another the reafon; no fooner knew the reafon, but they fought the remedy; and in thefe degrees have they made a pair of stairs to marriage, which they will climb incontinent, or else be incontinent before marriage. They are in the very wrath of love, and they will together. Clubs cannot part them.

Orla. They fhall be married to-morrow; and I will bid the Duke to the nuptial. But O, how bitter a thing it is, to look into happiness thro' another man's eyes! by fo much the more fhall I to-morrow be at the height of heart-heavinefs, by how much I fhall think my brother happy, in having what he wishes for.

Rof. Why, then, to-morrow I cannot serve your turn for Rofalind?

Orla. I can live no longer by thinking.

Rof. I will weary you then no longer with idle talking. Know of me then, for now I fpeak to fome purpofe, that I know you are a gentleman of good conceit. I fpeak not this, that you fhould bear a good opinion of my knowledge; infomuch, I fay, I know what you are; neither do I labour for a greater efteem than may in fome little measure draw a belief from you to do yourfelf good, and not to grace me. Believe then, if you pleafe, that I can do ftrange things. I have, fince I was three years old, convers'd with a magician, most


« 上一頁繼續 »