1

the heart of his lover; as a puny tilter, that fpurs
his horfe but on one fide, breaks his ftaff like a
noble goose: but all's brave, that youth mounts,
and folly guides:-Who comes here?
Enter Corin.

Car. Miftrefs, and master, you have oft enquired
After the fhepherd that complain'd of love;
Whom you faw fitting by me on the turf,
Praising the proud difdainful shepherdess
That was his mistress.

Cel. Well, and what of him?

Cor. If you will fee a pageant truly play'd,
Between the pale complexion of true love
And the red glow of scorn and proud disdain,
Go hence a little, and I thall conduct you,
If you will mark it.

Rof. O, come, let us remove;

The fight of lovers feedeth thofe in love :-
Bring us but to this fight, and you shall say
I'll prove a bufy actor in their play.

SCENE V.

Another part of the foreft.

Enter Silvius, and Phebe.

[Exeunt.

15

As, 'till that time, I shall not pity thee.

Rof. And why, I pray you?-Who might be

your mother,

That you infult, exult, and all at once 4,

Over the wretched? What though you have beauty,
|(As, by my faith, I fee no more in you

Than without candle may go dark to bed)
Muft you be therefore proud and pitiless?
20Why, what means this? Why do you look on me?
I fee no more in you, than in the ordinary

Of nature's fale-work 5 :-Od's, my little life!
I think, the means to tangle mine eyes too:-
No, 'faith, proud mistress, hope not after it;

Sil. Sweet Phebe, do not fcorn me; do not, 25 'Tis not your inky brows, your black-filk hair,

Phebe:

Say, that you love me not; but say not fo

In bitterness: The common executioner, [hard,
Whofe heart the accuftom'd fight of death makes
Falls not the axe upon the humbled neck,

2

But firft begs pardon: Will you fterner be
Than he that dies and lives by bloody drops?
Enter Rofalind, Celia, and Corin.

Phe. I would not be thy executioner;
I fly thee, for I would not injure thee.
Thou tell ft me, there is murder in mine eye:
'Tis pretty, fure, and very probable,
That eyes, that are the frail'ft, and fofteft things,
Who fhut their coward gates on atomies,-
Should be call'd tyrants, butchers, murderers!
Now do I frown on thee with all my heart;
And, if mine eyes can wound, now let them kili
thee:

Now counterfeit to fwoon; why now fall down:
Or, if thou can'st not, oh, for shame, for shame,
Lye not, to fay mine eyes are murderers.
Now fhew the wound mine eyes have made in thee:
Scratch thee but with a pin, and there remains
Some fear of it; lean but upon a rush,
The cicatrice and capable impreffure
Thy palm fome moment keeps: but now mine

Your bugle eye-balls, nor your cheek of cream,
That can entame my fpirits to your worship.—
You foolish fhepherd, wherefore do you follow her
Like foggy fouth, pufling with wind and rain?
30 You are a thousand times a properer man,
Than fhe a woman: 'Tis fuch 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 the fees herself more proper,

35 Than any of her lineaments can show her.-
But, miftrefs, know yourself; down on your knees,
And thank heaven, fafting, for a good man's love:
For I muft tell you friendly in your ear,-

Sell when you can; you are not for all markets:
40 Cry the man mercy; love him; take his offer;
Foul is moft foul, being foul to be a scoffer".
So, take her to thee, fhepherd;-fare you well.
Phe. Sweet youth, I pray you chide a year to-
gether;

45I had rather hear you chide, than this man woo. Ref. [afide.] He's fallen in love with her foulnefs, and fhe'll fall in love with my anger :-If it be fo, as faft as the answers thee with frowning looks, I'll fauce her with bitter words.-Why [eyes 50 look you fo upon me?

Phe. For no ill will I bear you.

across, as it was a mark either of want of courage or addrefs. This happened when the horse flew on one fide, in the career and hence, I fuppofe, arofe the jocular proverbial phrase of spurring the borje orly on one fide. Now as breaking the lance against his adversary's breast, in a direct line, was honourable, fo the breaking it acres against his breaft was, for the reason above, dishonourable.

8

1 Sir T. Hanmer changed this to a nofe-quill'd goofe, but no one appears to have regarded the alteration. Certainly nose-quill'd is an epithet likely to be corrupted; and it gives the image wanted. 2 To die and live by a thing is to be conftant to it, to perfevere in it to the end. The meaning therefore of the paifage may be, who is all his life converfant with bloody drops. Fancy is here used for love. i. e. all in a breath. 5 i. e. thofe works that nature makes up carelessly and without exactness. The allufion is to the practice of mechanicks, whofe werk bespoke is more elaborate than that which is made up for chance-customers, or to fell in quantities to retailers, which is called fale-werk. 6 The meaning is, The ill-favour'd feem moft ill-favoured, when, though ill-favoured, they are feeffers.

Ref

Ref. I pray you, do not fall in love with me,
For I am falfer than vows made in wine:
Befides, I like you not: If you will know my house,
Tis at the tuft of olives, here hard by:-
Will you go, fifter?-Shepherd, ply her hard:-
Come, fifter: Shepherdess look on him better,
And be not proud: though all the world could fee,
None could be fo abus'd in fight as he.
Come, to our flock. [Exeunt Rof. Cel. and Corin.
Phe. Dear fhepherd, now I find thy faw of 10
might;

Who ever lov'd, that lov'd not at first fight?

Sil. Sweet Phebe !

Phe. Hah! what fay'ft thou, Silvius ?

Sil. Sweet Phebe, pity me.

Phe. Why, I am forry for thee, gentle Silvius.
Sil. Wherever forrow is, relief would be:
If you do forrow at my grief in love,

By giving love, your forrow and my grief
Were both extermin'd.

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 mafter of.

Phe. Think not I love him, though I ask for him.
5'Tis but a peevish boy :-yet he talks well;-
But what care I for words? yet words do well,
When he that speaks them pleases thofe that hear.
It is a pretty youth;-Not very pretty :—
But, fure, he's proud; and yet his pride becomes
him:

He'll make a proper man: The best thing in him
Is his complexion; and fafter than his tongue
Did make offence, his eye did heal it up.

He is not very tall; yet for his years he's tall: |

15 His leg is but fo fo; and yet 'tis well :
There was a pretty redness in his lip;

A little riper, and more lufty red

Than that mix'd in his cheek; 'twas just the difference

[bourly? 20 Betwixt the conftant red, and mingled damask. There be fome women, Silvius, had they mark' him

Pbe. Thou haft my love: Is not that neigh-
Sil. I would have you.

Pbe. Why, that were covetoufness.
Silvius, the time was that I hated thee:
And yet it is not, that I bear thee love:

But fince that thou canft talk of love fo well,
Thy company, which erft was irkfome to me,
I will endure and I'll employ thee too :
But do not look for further recompence,
Than thine own gladnefs that thou art employ'd,
Sil. So holy, and so perfect is my love,

And I in fuch a poverty of grace,

That I fhall think it a most plenteous crop
To glean the broken ears after the man

In parcels as I did, would have gone near
To fall in love with him: but, for my part,

25I love him not, nor hate him not; and yet

I have more cause to hate him than to love him:
For what had he to do to chide at me?

He faid, mine eyes were black, and my hair black,
And, now I am remembred, fcorn'd at me:

30I marvel, why I answer'd not again :

But that's all one: omittance is no quittance.
I'll write to him a very taunting letter,
And thou fhalt bear it; Wilt thou, Silvius?
Sil. Phebe, with all my heart.

That the main harveft reaps: loose now and then 35 Phe. I'll write it straight;

A fcatter'd smile, and that I'll live upon.

Phe. Know'st thou the youth that spoke to me ere-while?

SCENE I.

The Foreft.

ACT IV.

Enter Rofalind, Celia, and Jaques.
Jaq. Pr'ythee, pretty youth, let me be better
I
acquainted with thee.

nor the foldier's, which is ambitious; nor the lawyer's, which is politick; nor the lady's, which is nice; nor the lover's, which is all thefe: but 50it is a melancholy of mine own, compounded of many fimples, extracted from many objects, and, indeed, the fundry contemplation of my travels, in which my often rumination wraps me in a most humorous fadness.

Rof. They fay, you are a melancholy fellow. Jaq. I am fo; I do love it better than laughing. Rof. Those, that are in extremity of either, are 55 abominable fellows; and betray themselves to every modern cenfure, worse than drunkards.

Jaq. Why, 'tis good to be fad and say nothing. Ref. Why then, 'tis good to be a post. Jaq. I have neither the scholar's melancholy, 60 which is emulation; nor the musician's, which is fantaftical; nor the courtier's, which is proud;}

Rof. A traveller! by my faith, you have great reafon to be fad: I fear, you have fold your own lands, to fee other men's: then, to have seen much, and to have nothing, is to have rich eyes and poor hands.

Jaq. Yes, I have gain'd my experience.
Enter Orlando.

Rf. And your experience makes you fad: I ive, deceived.

had

had rather have a fool to make me merry, than experience to make me fad; and to travel for it

too.

Orla. Good day, and happiness, dear Rofalind! Jaq. Nay then, God be wi' you, an you talk 5 in blank verfe. [Exit. Rof. Farewel, monfieur traveller: Look, you lifp, and wear strange suits; difable all the benefits of your own country; be out of love with your nativity, and almost chide God for making you to that countenance you are; or I will scarce think you have swam in a gondola 1.-Why, how now, Orlando! where have you been all this while?You a lover?an you ferve me fuch another trick, never come in my fight more.

Orla. My fair Rofalind, I come within an hour of my promife.

Orla. What, of my fuit?

Rof. Not out of your apparel, and yet out of your fuit. Am not I your Rofalind?

Orla. I take some joy to say you are, because I would be talking of her.

Ref. Well, in her perfon, I fay-I will not have you.

Orla. Then, in mine own person, I die.

Ref. No, faith, die by attorney. The poor world is almost fix thousand years old, and in all this time there was not any man died in his own perfon, videlicet, in a love caufe. Troilus had his brains dash'd out with a Grecian club; yet he did what he could to die before; and he is one of the 15 patterns of love. Leander, he would have liv'd many a fair year, though Hero had turn'd nun, if it had not been for a hot midfummer night: for, good youth, he went but forth to wash him in the Hellefpont, and, being taken with the cramp, was drowned; and the foolish chroniclers 3 of that age found it was,-Hero of Seftos. But these are all lyes; men have died from time to time, and worms have eaten them, but not for love.

Rof. Break an hour's promife in love? He that will divide a minute into a thousand parts, and break but a part of the thousandth part of a mi-20 nute in the affairs of love, it may be faid of him, that Cupid hath clap'd him o' the shoulder, but I warrant him heart-whole.

Orla. Pardon me, dear Rofalind.

Orla. I would not have my right Rofalind of this

Rof. Nay, an you be fo tardy, come no more in 25 mind; for, I proteft, her frown might kill me. my fight; I had as lief be woo'd of a snail.

Orla. Of a fnail?

Rof. Ay, of a fnail; for though he comes flowly, he carries his house on his head; a better jointure, I think, than you can make a woman: Be-30 fides, he brings his destiny with him.

Orla. What's that?

Rof. Why, horns; which fuch as you are fain to be beholden to your wives for: but he comes armed in his fortune, and prevents the flander of 35 his wife.

Orla. Virtue is no horn-maker; and my Rofalind is virtuous.

Rof. And I am your Rofalind.

Rof. By this hand, it will not kill a fly: But come, now I will be your Rofalind in a more coming-on difpofition; and ask me what you will, I will grant it.

Orla. Then love me, Rofalind.

Rof. Yes, faith will I, Fridays, and Saturdays

and all.

Orla. And wilt thou have me?

Rof. Ay, and twenty fuch.
Orla. What fay'st thou?
Rof. Are you not good?
Orla. I hope fo.

Rof. Why then, can one defire too much of a good thing?Come, fifter, you fhall be the Give me your hand, Or

Cel. It pleases him to call you fo; but he hath 40 prieft, and marry us.

a Rofalind of a better leer 2 than you.

Rof. Come, woo me, woo me; for now I am in a holiday humour, and like enough to confent : -What would you say to me now, an I were your very very Rosalind?

Orla. I would kifs, before I fpoke.

4-5

Rof. Nay, you were better speak firft; and when you were gravell'd for lack of matter, you might take occafion to kifs. Very good orators, when they are out, they will spit; and for lovers, 50 lacking (God warn us!) matter, the cleanlieft fhift is to kifs.

Orla. How if the kifs be denied?

Ref. Then he puts you to entreaty, and there begins new matter.

Orla. Who could be out, being before his beloved miftrefs?

Ref. Marry, that should you, if I were your miftrefs; or I should think my honefty ranker than my wit.

lando :-What do you say, fifter?

Orla. Pray thee, marry us.

Cel. I cannot fay the words.

Ref. You must begin,-" Will you, Orlando,”— Cel. Go to:-Will you, Orlando, have to wife this Rofalind?

Orla. I will.

Rof. Ay, but when?

Orla. Why now; as fast as she can marry us. Rof. Then you must say,—“ I take thee, Rosalind, for wife."

Orla. I take thee, Rofalind, for wife.

Rof. I might afk you for your commission; but I do take thee, Orlando, for my husband: There's 55 a girl goes before the priest; and, certainly, a woman's thought runs before her actions.

160

Orla. So do all thoughts; they are wing'd. Ref. Now tell me, how long would you have her, after you have poffefs'd her?

Orla. For ever, and a day.

* That is, been at Venice, which was much vifited by the young English gentlemen of those times, and was then, what Paris is now-the feat of all licentiousness. 2 i. e. of a better feature, complexion, or colour, than you. 3 Hanmer and Edwards read Coroner's, which I approve.

S. A.

Ref.

5

[pluck'd over your head, and fhew the world what the bird hath done to her own neft.

Rof. O coz, coz, coz, my pretty little coz, that thou didst know how many fathom deep I am in love! But it cannot be founded; my affection hath an unknown bottom, like the bay of Portugal. Cel. Or rather, bottomless; that as fast as you pour affection in, it runs out.

Ref. Say a day, without the ever: No, no, Orlando; 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 cockpigeon over his hen; more clamorous than a parrot against rain; more new-fangled than an ape; more giddy in my defires than a monkey; I will weep for nothing, like Diana in the fountain, and I will do that when you are difpos'd to be merry; 10 that was begot of thought, conceiv'd of spleen, and I will laugh like a hyen, and that when thou art inclin'd to fleep.

Orly. But will my Rofalind do fo?
Rof. By my life, she will do as I do.
Orla. O, but she is wife.

Rof. No, that fame wicked baftard of Venus,

born of madness; that blind rafcally boy, that abufes 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 fight of Orlan15 do: I'll go find a shadow, and figh till he come. Cel. And I'll fleep. [Exeurs.

Ref. Or elfe fhe could not have the wit to do this: the wifer, the waywarder : Make the doors upon a woman's wit, and it will out at the cafement; fhut that, and 'twill out at the key-hole; ftop that, it will fly with the fmoak out at the 20 chimney.

Orla. A man that had a wife with fuch a wit, ke might say," Wit, whither wilt?"

Ref. Nay, you might keep that check for it, 'till you met your wife's wit going to your neighbour's bed.

Orla. And what wit could wit have to excufe that?

Enter Jaques, Lords, and Forefiers.
Jaq. Which is he that kill'd the deer?
Lord. Sir, it was I.

Jaq. Let's prefent him to the duke Like a Ro-
man conqueror; and it would do well to fet the
deer's horns upon his head, for a branch of victory:
25-Have you no fong, forefter, for this purpose?
For. Yes, fir.

Rof. Marry, to fay,-fhe came to feek you there. You shall never take her without her an-30 fwer, unless you take her without her tongue. O, that woman that cannot make her fault her hufband's occafion 2, let her never nurfe her child herfelf, for fhe will breed it like a fool!

Orla. For these two hours, Rofalind, I will leave 35 thee.

Ref. Alas, dear love, I cannot lack thee two hours. Oria. I must attend the duke at dinner; by two o'clock I will be with thee again.

Ref. Ay, go your ways, go your ways;-I knew 40 what you would prove; my friends told me as much, and I thought no lefs :-that flattering tongue of yours won me:-'tis but one caft away, and fo,come, death.-Two o'the clock is your hour? Orla. Ay, fweet Rofalind.

45

Ref. By my troth, and in good earnest, and fo God mend me, and by all pretty oaths that are not dangerous, if you break one jot of your promife, or come one minute behind your hour, I will think you the most pathetical break-promife, and the 50 most hollow lover, and the most unworthy of her you call Rofalind, that may be chofen out of the grofs band of the unfaithful: therefore beware my cenfure, and keep your promife.

Orla. With no lefs religion, than if thou wert indeed my Rofalind: So, adieu.

Ref. Well, time is the old justice that examines all fuch offenders, and let time try: Adieu !

[Exit Orlando.

55

Cel. You have fimply mifus'd our fex in your 6c love-prate: we must have your doublet and hofel

Jaq. Sing it: 'tis no matter how it be in tune, fo it make noise enough.

Mufick, Song.

1. What shall be have, that kil'd the deer?
2. His leather fkin, and borns to wear.
1. Then fing him beme:

Take thou no scorn
To wear the born, the lufty born;
It was a creft ere theu waft born.

1. Thy father's father wore it;
2. And thy father bore it :
The born, the born, the lufty born,
Is not a thing to laugh to jcorn.

SCENE

III.

Enter Rofalind, and Celia.

fhall bear

this burden.

[Exeunt.

I know not the contents; but, as I guess,
By the ftern brow, and wafpifh action
Which the did ufe as the was writing of it,
It bears an angry tenour: pardon me,
I am but as a guiltless meffenger.

[this letter,
Ref. [reading.] Patience herself would startle at
And play the fwaggerer; bear this, bear all:
She fays, I am not fair; that I lack manners;
She calls me proud; and, that she could not love me
Were man as rare as phoenix: 'Od's my will!

1 i. e. bar the doorse 2 That is, represent her fault as occafioned by her husband.

Rof. Why, 'tis a boisterous and a cruel ftile,
A ftile for challengers; why, the defies me,
Like Turk to Chriftian: woman's gentle brain
Could not drop forth fuch giant-rude invention,
Such Ethiop words, blacker in their effect [letter?
Than in their countenance :-Will you hear the 20 And to that youth, he calls his Rofalind,
Sil. So please you, for I never heard it yet;

And browner than her brother." Are not you
The owner of the house I did enquire for?
Cel. It is no boast, being ask'd, to fay, we are.
Oli. Orlando doth commend him to you both;

Rof. Do you pity him? no, he deferves no pity.-Wilt thou love fuch a woman?-What, to make thee an inftrument, and play falfe ftrains upon thee! not to be endured!-Well, go your way to her, (for I fee love hath made thee a tame 55 fnake) and fay this to her;" That if fhe love "me, I charge her to love thee: if he will not, I "will never have her, unless thou intreat for her." If you be a true lover, hence, and not a word; for here comes more company.

To prey on nothing that doth feem as dead:
This feen, Orlando did approach the man,
And found it was his brother, his elder brother.
Cel. O, I have heard him fpeak 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.

Ref. But, to Orlando ;-Did he leave him there,
Food to the fuck'd and hungry lioness?

Oli. Twice did he turn his back, and purpos'd fo: But kindness, nobler ever than revenge, 60 And nature, stronger than his just occafion, [Exit Silvius. Made him give battle to the lionefs,

2 Kind (as has been more than once obferved) is the old word for nature.