Sil. Sweet Phebe,- Ha! What say'st thou, Silvius? Phe. Why, I am sorry for thee, gentle Silvius. Phe. Thou hast my love; is not that neigh- Phe. [bourly? Over the wretched? What, though you have That the main harvest reaps; loose now and then beauty, A scatter'd smile, and that I'll live upon. me ere while? Sil. Not very well, but I have met him oft: And he hath bought the cottage, and the bounds, That the old carlot once was master of. Phe. Think not I love him, though I ask for him; (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 :-Od's my little life! I think she means to tangle my eyes too:No, 'faith, proud mistress, hope not after it; "Tis but a peevish boy:-yet he talks well;'Tis not your inky brows, your black silk-hair, But what care I for words? yet words do well, Your bugle eyeballs, nor your cheek of cream, When he that speaks them pleases those that That can entame my spirits to your worship,-It is a pretty youth;-not very pretty; [hear You foolish shepherd, wherefore do you follow But, sure, he's proud; and yet his pride becomes her, him; Like foggy south, puffing with wind and rain? I had rather hear you chide, than this man woo. Phe. For no ill will I bear yon. Ros. I pray you, do not fall in love with me, 'Tis at the tuft of olives, here hard by:- [Exeunt ROSALIND, CELIA, and CORIN Phe. Dead shepherd! now I find thy saw of might; Who ever lov'd, that lov'd not at first sight? He'll make a proper man; The best thing in him him In parcels as I did, would have gone near And, now I am remember'd, scorn'd at me : Art Fourth. SCENE I. The same. Enter ROSALIND, CELIA, and JAQUES Jaq. I pr'ythee, pretty youth, let me be better acquainted with thee. Ros. They say, you are a melancholy fellow. Jaq. I am so; I do love it better than laughing. for lovers, lacking (God warn us!) matter, the Ros. Those that are in extremity of either, cleanliest shift is to kiss. arc abominable fellows; and betray themselves Orl. How if the kiss be denied? to every modern censure, worse than drunkards. Ros. Then she puts you to entreaty, and there Jaq. Why, 'tis good to be sad and say nothing. begins new matter. [mistress? Ros. Why then, 'tis good to be a post. Orl. Who could be out, being before his beloved Jaq. I have neither the scholar's melancholy, Ros. Marry, that should you, if I were your which is emulation; nor the musician's, which mistress; or I should think my honesty ranker Is fantastical; nor the courtier's, which is proud;] Orl. What, of my suit? [than my wit. nor the soldier's, which is ambitious; nor the Ros. Not out of your apparel, and yet out of lawyer's, which is politick; nor the lady's, your suit. Am not I your Rosalind? which is nice; nor the lover's, which is all Orl. I take some joy to say you are, because these: but it is a melancholy of mine own, I would be talking of her. [have you. compounded of many simples, extracted from Ros. Well, in her person I say-I will not many objects; and, indeed, the sundry contem- Orl. Then, in mine own person, I die. plation of my travels; which, by often rumina- Ros. No, faith, die by attorney. The poor tion, wraps me in a most humourous sadness. world is almost six thousand years old, and in Ros. A traveller! By my faith, you have great all this time there was not any man died in his reason to be sad: I fear, you have sold your own person, videlicet, in a love-cause. Troilus own lands, to see other men's; then, to have had his brains dashed out with a Grecian club; been much, and to have nothing, is to have rich | yet he did what he could to die before; and he 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. Orl. 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 gondola.-Why, how now, Orlando! where have you been all this while? You a lover?-An you serve me such another trick, never come in my sight more. Orl. My fair Rosalind, I come within an hour of my promise. Ros. Break an hour's promise in love? He that will divide a minute into a thousand parts, and break but a part of a thousandth part of a minute in the affairs of love, it may be said of him, that Cupid hath clapp'd him o' the shoulder, but I warrant him heart-whole. Orl. Pardon me, dear Rosalind. Ros. Nay, an you be so tardy, come no more in my sight: I had as lief be woo'd of a snail. Orl. Of a snail? Ros. Ay, of a snail; for though he comes slowly, he carries his house on his head: a better jointure, I think, than you can make a woman: Besides, he brings his destiny with him. Orl. What's that? is one of the patterns of love. Leander, he would have lived many a fair year, though Hero had turned nun, if it had not been for a hot midsummer night: for, good youth, he went but forth to wash him in the Hellespont, and, being taken with the cramp, was drowned; and the foolish chroniclers of that age found it was-Hero of Sestos. But these are all lies: men have died from time to time, and worms have eaten them, but not for love. Orl. I would not have my right Rosalind of this mind; for, I protest, her frown might kill me. Ros. By this hand, it will not kill a fly: Put come, now I will be your Rosalind in a more coming-on disposition; and ask me what you will, I will grant it. Orl. Then love me, Rosalind. Ros. Yes, faith, will I, Fridays, and Saturdays, and all. Orl. And wilt thou have me? Orl. I hope so. Ros. Why then, can one desire too much of a good thing?-Come, sister, you shall be the priest, and marry us. Give me your hand, Orlando:-What do you say, sister? Orl. 'Pray thee, marry us. Ros. You must begin,- Will you, Orlandu,--- Ros. Ay, but when? Orl. I take thee, Rosalind, for wife. Ros. Why, horns; which such as you are fain to be beholden to your wives for; but he comes Ros. I might ask you for your commission; armed in his fortune, and prevents the slander but, I do take thee, Orlando, for my husband [lind is virtuous. There a girl goes before the priest; and, certainOrl. Virtue is no horn-maker; and my Rosa-ly, a woman's thought runs before her actions. Ros. And I am your Rosalind. of his wife. Cel. It pleases him to call you so; but he hath a Rosalind of a better leer than you. Ros. Come, woo me, woo me; for now I am in a holiday humour, and like enough to consent: What would you say to me now, an were your very, very Rosalind? Orl. So do all thoughts; they are winged. Ros. Now tell me how long you would have her, after you have possessed her. Orl. For ever and a day. Ros. Say a day, without the ever: No, no, IOrlando; men are April when they woo: December when they wed: maids are May when they are maids, but the sky changes when they are wives. I will be more jealous of thee than a Barbary cock-pigeon over his hen; more clamorous than a parrot against rain; more newfangled than an ape; more giddy in my desires Orl. I would kiss, before I spoke. Ros. Nay, you were better speak first; and when you were gravelled for lack of matter, you might take occasion to kiss. Very good orators, when they are out, they will spit; and than a monkey: I will weep for nothing, like Ros. Or else she could not have the wit to do this: the wiser, the waywarder: Make the doors upon a woman's wit, and it will out at the casement; shut that, and 'twill out at the keyhole; stop that, 'twill fly with the smoke out at the chimney. Orl. A man that had a wife with such a wit, he might say,-Wit, whither will? 1 Lord. Sir, it was I. Jaq. Let's present him to the duke like a Roman conqueror; and it would do well to set the deer's horns upon his head, for a branch of victory-Have you no song, forester, for this pur2 Lord. Yes, sir. [pose? Jaq. Sing it; 'tis no matter how it be in tune, so it make noise enough. SONG. The rest shall bear this burden. 1. What shall he have that kill'd the deer? Ros. Nay, you might keep that check for it, till you met your wife's wit going to your neigh-All. [that? bour's bed. [Exeunt. SCENE III. The Forest. Orl. And what wit could wit have to excuse! Ros. Marry, to say,-she came to seek you there. You shall never take her without her answer, unless you take her without her tongue. O, that woman that cannot make her fault her husband's occasion, let her never nurse her] Cel. I warrant you, with pure love, and trouchild herself, for she will breed it like a fool. bled brain, he hath ta'en his bow and arrow, Orl. For these two hours, Rosalind, I will and is gone forth to sleep: Look who comes here Enter SILVIUS. leave thee. [hours. I Ros. Alas, dear love, I cannot lack thee two Sil. My errand is to you, fair youth:Orl. I must attend the duke at dinner; by My gentle Phebe, bid me give you this: two o'clock I will be with thee again. [Giving a Letter. Ros. Ay, go your ways, go your ways:-I knew know not the contents; but as I guess, what you would prove; my friends told me as By the stern brow and waspish action much, and I thought no less-that flattering Which she did use as she was writing of it, tongue of yours won me:-'tis but one cast It bears an angry tenour: pardon me, away, and so,-come death.-Two o'clock is I am but as a guiltless messenger. [letter, Orl. Ay, sweet Rosalind. [your hour? Ros. Patience herself would startle at this Ros. By my troth, and in good earnest, and And play the swaggerer; bear this, bear all: so God mend me, and by all pretty oaths that She says, I am not fair; that I lack manners; are not dangerous, if you break one jot of your She calls me proud; and, that she could not promise, or come one minute behind your hour, I will think you the most pathetical break-pro-Were men as rare as phoenix: Od's my will! mise, and the most hollow lover, and the most Her love is not the hare that I do hunt: unworthy of her you call Rosalind, that may be Why writes she so to me?-Well, shepherd,well, chosen out of the gross band of the unfaithful: This is a letter of your own device. therefore beware my censure, and keep your promise. love me Sil. No, I protest, I know not the contents; Phebe did write it. Ros. Orl. With no less religion, than if thou wert Come, come, you are a fool, indeed my Rosalind: So, adieu. And turn'd into the extremity of love Ros. Well, time is the old justice that exa-I saw her hand: she has a leathern hand, mines all such offenders, and let time try: Adieu! A freestone-colour'd hand; I verily did think [Ecit ORLANDO. That her old gloves were on, but 'twas her hands; Cel. You have simply misus'd our sex in your She has a huswife's hand: but that's no matter; love-prate: we must have your doublet and hose I say, she never did invent this letter; pluck'd over your head, and show the world This is a man's invention, and his hand. what the bird hath done to her own nest. Sil. Sure, it is hers. Ros. O coz, coz, coz, my pretty little coz, that thou didst know how many fathom deep am in love! But it cannot be sounded; my affection hath an unknown bottom, like the bay of Portugal. Cel. Or rather bottomless; that as fast as you pour affection in it, it runs out. Ros. No, that same wicked bastard of Venus, that was begot of thought, conceived of spleen, and born of madness; that blind rascally boy, that abuses every one's eyes, because his own are out, let him be judge, how deep I am in love:-I'll tell thee, Aliena, I cannot be out of the sight of Orlando: I'll go find a shadow, and sigh till he come Cel. And I'll sleep. [Exeunt. SCENE II. Another part of the Forest. Enter JAQUES and Lords, in the habit of Foresters. Jaq. Which is he that kill'd the deer? Ros. Why, 'tis a boisterous and a cruel style, A style for challengers: why, she defies me, Like Turk to Christian: woman's gentle brain Could not drop forth such giant-rude invention, Such Ethiop words, blacker in their effect Than in their countenance :-Will you hear the letter? Sil. So please you, for I never heard it yet; Why thy godhead laid apart, Whiles the eye of man did woo me, If the scorn of your bright eyne Of me, and all that I can make ; Ros. Do you pity him? no, he deserves no pity. Wilt thou love such a woman?-What, to make thee an instrument, and play false strains upon thee! not to be endured!-Well, go your way to her, (for I see, love hath made thee a tame snake), and say this to her;-That if she love me, I charge her to love thee: if she will not, I will never have her, unless thou entreat for her. If you be a true lover, hence, and not a word; for here comes more company. [Exit SILVIUS. if Enter OLIVER. Oli. Good-morrow, fair ones: Pray you, you know Where, in the purlieus of this forest, stands A sheep-cote, fenc'd about with olive-trees? Cel. West of this place, down in the neighbour bottom, The rank of osiers, by the murmuring stream, Left on your right hand, brings you to the place: But at this hour the house doth keep itself, There's none within. Oli. If that an eye may profit by a tongue, Then I should know you by description; Such garments, and such years: The boy is fair Of female favour, and bestows himself Like a ripe sister; but the woman low, And browner than her brother. Are not you The owner of the house I did inquire for? Cel. It is no boast, being ask'd, to say, we are. Oli. Orlando doth commend him to you both; And to that youth he calls his Rosalind, He sends this bloody napkin; are you he? Ros. I am: What must we understand by this? Oli. Some of my shame; if you will know of me What man I am, and how, and why, and where This handkerchief was stain'd. Cel. I pray you, tell it. Oli. When last the young Orlando parted from He left a promise to return again [you, Within an hour; and, pacing through the forest, Chewing the food of sweet and bitter fancy, Lo, what befell! he threw his eye aside, And, mark, what object did present itself! Under an oak, whose boughs were moss'd with And high top bald with dry antiquity, A wretched ragged man, o'ergrown with hair, Lay sleeping on his back: about his neck [age, The royal disposition of that beast, And he did render him the most unnatural Oli. Ros. But, to Orlando;-Did he leave him there, Food to the suck'd and hungry lioness? [so: Oli. Twice did he turn his back, and purpos'd But kindness, nobler ever than revenge, And nature, stronger than his just occasion, Made him give battle to the lioness, Who quickly fell before him; in which hurtling From miserable slumber I awak'd. Cel. Are you his brother? Ros. Was it you he rescu'd? Cel. Was't you that did so oft contrive to kill him? Oli. 'Twas I; but 'tis not I: I do not shame To tell you what I was, since my conversion So sweetly tastes, being the thing I am. Pos. But, for the bloody napkin ?— Oli. By and by: When from the first to last, betwixt us two, Tears our recountments had most kindly bath'd; As, how I came into that desert place;In brief he led me to the gentle duke, Who gave me fresh array and entertainment, Committing me unto my brother's love; Who led me instantly unto his cave, There stripp'd himself, and here upon his arm The lioness had torn some flesh away, Which all this while had bled; and now he And cry'd, in fainting, upon Rosalind. [fainted, Brief, I recover'd him; bound up his wound; And, after some small space, being strong at He sent me hither, stranger as I am, [heart, To tell this story, that you might excuse His broken promise, and to give this napkin, Dy'd in his blood, unto the shepherd youth That he in sport doth call his Rosalind. Cel. Why, how now, Ganymede? sweet Ganymede ? [ROSALIND faints. Oli. Many will swoon when they do look on blood. [mede! Cel. There is more in it:-Cousin-Gany- I pray you, will you take him by the arm? Ros. I do so, I confess 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 passion of earnest. Ros. Counterfeit, I assure you. Oli. Well then, take a good heart, and coun Ros. So I do: but i'faith, I should have been a woman by right. A green and gilded snake had wreathed itself,terfeit to be a man. When that the sleeping man should stir; for'tis Cel. Come, you look paler and paler; pray you, draw homewards: Good sir, go with us. Oli. That will I, for I must bear answer backHow you excuse my brother, Rosalind. Ros. I shall devise something: But, I pray you, commend my counterfeiting to him:Will you go? [Exeunt Art Fifth. SCENE I. The same. Enter TOUCHSTONE and AUDREY. Touch. We shall find a time, Audrey; patience, gentle Audrey. Aud. 'Faith, the priest was good enough, for all the old gentleman's saying. Touch. 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. Touch. It is meat and drink to me to see a clown: By my troth, we that have good wits, have much to answer for; we shall be flouting; we cannot hold. Will. Good even, Audrey. Aud. God ye good even, William. Touch. Good even, gentle friend: Cover thy head, cover thy head; nay, pry'thee, be covered. How old are you, friend? Will. Five-and-twenty, sir. Touch. A ripe age: Is thy name William? SCENE II. The same. Enter ORLANDO and OLIVER. Orl. Is't possible, that on so little acquaintance you should like her? that but seeing, you should love her? and, loving, woo? and, wooing, she should grant? and will you persevere to enjoy her? Oli. Neither call the giddiness of it in question, the poverty of her, the small acquaintance, my sudden wooing, nor her sudden consenting; but say with me, I love Alieno; say with her, that she loves me; consent with both, that we may enjoy each other: it shall be to your good; for my father's house, and all the revenue that was old Sir Rowland's, will I estate upon you, and here live and die a shepherd Enter ROSALIND. Ros. I thought thy heart had been wounded with the claws of a lion. [lady. Orl. Wounded it is, but with the eyes of a Ros. Did your brother tell you how I counterfeited to swoon, when he showed me your handkerchief? Orl. Ay, and greater wonders than that. Ros. O, I know where you are:-Nay, 'tis true; there never was any thing so sudden, but the fight of two rams, and Cæsar's thrasonical Will. Ay, sir, I have a pretty wit. Touch. Why, thou say'st well. I do now re-brag of-1 came, saw, and overcame: For your member a saying; The fool doth think he is wise, but the wise man knows himself to be a fool. The heathen philosopher, when he had a desire to eat 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. Touch. Give me your hand: Art thou learned? Touch. Then learn this of me: To have, is to have: For it is a figure in rhetorick, that drink, being poured out of a cup into a glass, by filling the one doth empty the other: for all your writers do consent, that ipse is he; now you are not ipse, for I am he. Will. Which he, sir. Touch. He, sir, that must marry this woman: Therefore, you clown, abandon,-which is in the vulgar, leave, the society,-which in the boorish is, company,-of this female,- which in the common is,-woman, which together is, abandon the society of this female; or, clown, thou perishest; or, to thy better understand ing, diest; to wit, I kill thee, make thee away, translate thy life into death, thy liberty into bondage: I will deal in poison with thee, or in bastinado, or in steel; I will bandy with thee in faction; I will o'errun thee with policy; I will kill thee a hundred and fifty ways; therefore tremble, and depart. Aud. Do, good William. brother and my sister no sooner met, but they looked, no sooner looked, but they loved; no sooner loved, but they sighed; no sooner sighed, but they asked one another the reason; no sooner knew the reason, but they sought the remedy; and in these 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. Orl. They shall 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 through another man's eyes! By so much the more shall I to-morrow be at the height of heart-heaviness, by how much I shall think my brother happy, in having what he wishes for. Ros. Why then, to-morrow I cannot serve your turn for Rosalind? Orl. I can live no longer by thinking. Ros. I will weary you no longer then with idle talking. Know of me then, (for now I speak to some purpose), that I know you are a gentleman of good conceit: I speak not this, that you should bear a good opinion of my knowledge, insomuch, I say, I know you are; neither do I labour for a greater esteem than may in some little measure draw a belief from you, to do yourself good, and not to grace me. Believe then, if you please, that I can do strange things: I have, since I was three years old, conversed with a magician, most profound [Exit. in this art, and yet not damnable. If you do love Rosalind so near the heart as your gesture cries it out, when your brother marries Aliens, shall you marry her: I know into what straits of fortune she is driven; and it is not impos[Exeunt. sible to me, if it appear not inconvenient to Cor. Our master and mistress scek you; come, away, away. Touch. Trip, Audrey, trip, Audrey ;-I attend, I attend. |