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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 Key-hole; stop that, it will fly with the smoak out at the Chimney.
Orla. A Man that had a Wife with such a Wit, he might fay, Wit whither wilt?
Rof. 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?
Rof. Marry to say, she came to seek you there: You shall never find her without her Answer, unless you take her without her Tongue. Othat Woman, that cannot make her fault her Husband's occasion, let her never nurse her Child her self, for she will breed it like a Fool.
Orla. For these two hours, Rosalind, I will leave thee.
Orla. I must attend the Duke at Dinner, by two a Clock I will be with thee again.
Ros: Ay, go your ways, go your ways; I knew what you would prove, my Friends told me as much, and I thought no less; that flattering Tongue of yours won me; 'tis but one cast away, and fo come Death: Two o'th'Clock is your hour
Orla, Ay, sweet Rosalind.
Ref. By my troth, and in good earnest, and so God mend me, and by all the pretty Oaths that are not dangerous, if you break one jot of your Promise, or come one minute behind your hour, I will think you the most pathetical BreakPromise, and the most hollow Lover, and the most unworthy of her you call Rosalind, that may be chosen out of the gross Band of the Unfaithful; therefore beware my Censure, and keep your Promise.
Orla. With no less Religion, than if thou wert indeed my Rosalind; fo adieu.
Ros. Well, Time is the old Justice that examines all such Offenders, and let Time try. Adieu. [Exit Orla.
Cel. You have simply misus'd our Sex in your Love-prate: we must have your Doublet and Hose pluck'd over your Head, and thew the World what the Bird hath done to her own Nest,
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 Affe&ion hath an unknown bottom, like the Bay of Portugal.
Cel. Or rather bottomless, that as fast as you pour Affe- . &ion in, it runs out.
Ros. No, that fame wicked Bastard of Venus, that was begot of Thought, conceiv'd of Spleen, and born of Mad. neis, that blind rascally Boy, that abuses every ones 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 light of Orlando : I'll go find a Shadow, and figh 'till he come. Cel. And I'll sleep
[Exeunt. SCENE II.
Enter Jaques, Lords, and Foresters. Jag. Which is he that kill'd the Deer? Lord. Sir, it was I.
Jag. 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 Vi&ory; have you no Song, Fow refter, for this purpose?
For. Yes, Sir.
Jaq. Sing it: 'Tis no matter how it be in tune, so it make noise enough.
Enter Rosalind and Celia.
Syl. My Errand is to you, fair Youth,
Rof. Patience her self would startle at this Letter,
Syl. No, I proteit, I know not the Contents,
Ros. Come, come, you are a Fool,
Syt Sure it is hers.
Ref. Why, 'tis à boisterous and a cruel Stile,
Such Ethiop words, blacker in their Effect
Syl. So please you, for I never heard it yet;
Rof. She Phebes me; mark how the Tyrant writes,
Syl. Call you this Railing?
ROS. [Reads.] Why, thy Godhead laid apart,
Syl. Call you this chiding?
Rof. Do you pity him? No, he deserves no pity: Wilt thou love such a Woman? What to make thee an Ioftru, ment, and play false Strings 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 the 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.
Cel. Weft of this place down in the Neighbour bottom,
Oli. If that an Eye may profit by a Tongue,
Cel. It is no boast, being ask'd, to say we are.
Oli. Orlando doth commend him to you both,
Rof. I am; what must we understand by this?
Oli. Some of my Shame, if you will know of me
Cel. I pray you tell it.
Oli. When last the young Orlando parted from you,