ing him, and relish it with good obfervance. I found him under a tree like a dropp'd acorn. Rof. It may well be call'd Jove's tree, when it drops forth fuch fruit. Cel. Give me audience, good Madam, Rof. Proceed. Cel. There lay he ftretch'd along like a wounded Knight. Rof. Tho' it be pity to fee fuch a fight, it well be, comes the ground. Cel. Cry, holla! to thy tongue, I pr'ythee; it curvets unfeasonably, He was furnish'd like a hunter. Rof. Oh, ominous! he comes to kill my heart. Cel. I would fing my fong without a burden; thou bring'ft me out of tune. Rof. Do you not know I am a woman? when I think, I muft fpeak-Sweet, fay on. SCENE VII. Enter Orlando and Jaques. Cel. You bring me out. Soft, comes he not here? Rof. 'Tis he; flink by, and note him, [Celia and Rofalind retire. Jaq. I thank you for your company; but, good faith, I had as lief have been myself alone. Orla. And fo had I; but yet for, fashion fake, I thank you too for your fociety. Jaq. God b'w' you, let's meet as little as we can. 6 I found him under a tree like a dropp'd acorn.] We fhould read, Under AN OAK tree. This appears from what follows like a dropp'd acorn. For how did he look like a dropp'd acorn unless he was found under an oak-tree. And from Rofalind's reply, that it might well be called Jove's tree: For the Oak was facred to Jove. WARBURTON. Jaq. Jaq. I pray you marr no more trees with writing love-fongs in their barks. Orla. I pray you, marr no more of my Verfes with reading them ill-favouredly. Jaq. Rofalind, is your love's name? Orla. Yes, juft, Jaq. I do not like her name, Orla. There was no thought of pleafing you, when fhe was chriften'd. Jaq. What ftature is she of? Orla. Juft as high as my heart. Jaq. You are full of pretty anfwers; have you not been acquainted with goldfmiths wives, and conn'd them out of rings? Orla. Not fo': but I anfwer you right painted cloth, from whence you have ftudied your questions. Jaq. You have a nimble wit; I think, it was made of Atalanta's heels. Will you fit down with me, and we two will rail against our mistress, the world, and all our misery. Orla. I will chide no breather in the world but my felf, against whom I know most faults. Jaq. The worst fault you have, is to be in love. Orla. "Tis a fault I will not change for your best virtue. I am weary of you. Jaq. By my troth, I was feeking for a fool, when I found you. Orla. He is drown'd in the brook; look but in, and you fhall fee him. Jaq. There I shall fee mine own figure. 7 - but I answer you right painted cloth.] This alludes to the Fashion, in old Tapestry Hangings, of Motto's and moral Sentences from the Mouths of the Figures work'd or painted in them. The poet again hints at this Cuftom in his Poem, call'd, Tarquin and Lucrece: Who fears a Sentence, or an old Shall by a painted Cloth be kept Sir T. Hanmer reads, I anfwer you right, in the file of the painted cloth. Something seems wanting, and I know not what can be propofed better. Orla. Orla. Which I take to be either a fool, or a cypher. Jaq. I'll ftay no longer with you; farewel, good Signior love! [Exit. Orla. I am glad of your departure; adieu, good Monfieur melancholy! [Cel. and Rof. come forward. Rof. I will fpeak to him like a fawcy lacquey, and under that habit play the knave with him - Do you hear, forefter? Orla. Very well; what would you? Rof. I pray yon, what is't a clock? Orla. You fhould ask me, what time o'day; there's no clock in the Foreft. Rof. Then there is no true lover in the Foreft; else, fighing every minute, and groaning every hour, would detect the lazy foot of time, as well as a clock. Orla. And why not the fwift foot of time? had not that been as proper? Rof. By no means, Sir: time travels in divers paces, with divers perfons; I'll tell you whom time ambles withal, whom time trots withal, whom time gallops withal, and whom he ftands ftill withal. Orla. I pr'ythee, whom doth he trot withal? Rof. Marry, he trots hard with a young maid, between the contract of her marriage, and the day it is folemniz'd if the interim be but a fennight, time's pace is fo hard that it seems the length of feven years. Orla. Who ambles time withal? Rof. With a priest that lacks Latin, and a rich man that hath not the gout; for the one fleeps eafily, because he cannot ftudy; and the other lives merrily, because he feels no pain: the one lacking the burden of lean and wasteful learning; the other knowing no burden of heavy tedious penury. Thefe time ambles withal. Orla. Whom doth he gallop withal? Rof. With a thief to the gallows: for though he go as as foftly as foot can fall, he thinks himfelf too foon there. Orla. Whom ftays it ftill withal? Rof. With lawyers in the vacation; for they fleep between term and term, and then they perceive not how time moves. Orla. Where dwell you, pretty youth? Rof. With this fhepherdefs, my fister; here in the fkirts of the foreft, like fringe upon a petticoat. Orla. Are you native of this place? Rof. As the cony, that you fee dwell where fhe is kindled. Orla. Your accent is fomething finer, than you could purchase in fo removed a dwelling. Rof. I have been told fo of many; but, indeed, an old religious Uncle of mine taught me to speak, who was in his youth an in-land man, one that knew courtfhip too well: for there he fell in love. I have heard him read many lectures against it; I thank God, I am not a woman, to be touch'd with so many giddy offences as he hath generally tax'd their whole fex withal. Orla. Can you remember any of the principal evils, that, he laid to the charge of women? Rof. There were none principal, they were all like one another, as half-pence are; every one fault seeming monftrous, 'till his fellow fault came to match it. Orla. I pr'ythee, recount fome of them. Rof. No; I will not caft away my phyfick, but on thofe that are fick. There is a man haunts the Foreft, that abuses our young Plants with carving Rofalind on their barks; hangs Odes upon hawthorns, and Elegies on brambles; all, forfooth, deifying the name of Rofalind. If I could meet that fancy-monger, I would. give him fome good counfel, for he feems to have the Quotidian of love upon him. inland man,] Is used in this play for one civilised, in oppofition to the ruftick of the priest. So Orlando before-Yet am I inland bred, and know fome nurture. Orla. Orla. I am he, that is fo love-fhak'd; I pray you tell me your remedy.. Rof. There is none of my Uncle's marks upon you he taught me how to know a man in love; in which cage of rushes, I am fure, you are not prifoner. Orla. What were his marks? Rof. A lean cheek, which you have not; a blue eye and funken, which you have not; an unquestionable fpirit, which you have not; a beard neglected, which you have not; but I pardon you for that, for fimply your Having in beard is a younger Brother's revenue; then your hofe fhould be ungarter'd, your bonnet unbanded, your fleeve unbutton'd, your fhoe untied, and every thing about you demonftrating a careless defolation. But you are no fuch man, you are rather point-de-vice in your accoutrements, as loving yourself, than feeming the lover of any other. Orla. Fair youth, I would I could make thee believe I love. Rof. Me believe it? you may as foon make her, that you love, believe it; which, I warrant, fhe is apter to do, than to confefs fhe does; that is one of the points, in the which women still give the lye to their confciences. But, in good footh, are you he that hangs the Verfes on the trees, wherein Rofalind is fo admired? Orla. I fwear to thee, youth, by the white hand of Rofalind, I am That he, that unfortunate he. Rof. But are you fo much in love, as your rhimes speak? Orla. Neither rhime nor reafon can exprefs how much. 8 Rof. Love is merely a 3- an unquestionable spirit.] That is, a fpirit not inquifitive, a mind indifferent to common objects, and negligent of common occurrences. Here Shake madness, and, I tell you, Speare has ufed a paffive for an active mode of fpeech: fo in a former fcene, The Duke is too difputable for me, that is, too dif putatious. deferves |