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AS YOU LIKE IT. Inlov lower, sed the most navorthgel le
Another part of the Forest.
Rod, that may be choxa out of typen of the whitel: Oberefore bevute
Enter Jaques and Lords, in the habit of the Fo
keep your pronik.
, fine is the old jestice that is all nect obradin, aed les time 17: Ader Cod Post here simply misus'd ourse is on
Jaq. Which is he that killed the deer? 1 Lord. Sir, it was I.
Jaq. Let's present him to the duke, like a Romar 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 purpose ?
2 Lord. Yes, sir.
Jaq. Sing it; 'tis no matter how it be in tune, so it make noise enough.
prite: w mos hare your doodlet and his ore your bead, and show the world rush
hich done to ber ova sest
RO, COL, C, my pretty little they didnt know how many hatboa depla Lore! Bat it can be sounded; my affects
known bottom, like the Bay of Portugal Cd. Or rather bottomless, that all
pour afwtion in, it runs out.
Ro. No, that same wided bastard that vw begot of thought, coacem do As dory of madness; that blind rarely abans etery ope's eyes, because his art 2
ha de judge, how deep lama
bre, 4 bed, I cannot be out of Dr.1940: I'll go find a shadow, and som
1. What shall he have, that kill'd the deer? 2. His leather skin, and horns to wear.
1 Then sing him home: Take thou no scorn, to wear the horn; shall bear It was a crest ere thou wast born;
den, 1. Thy father's futher wore it;
2. And thy father bore it : All. The horn, the horn, the lusty horn,
Is not a thing to laugh to scorn. [Exeunt.
Cd. And I'll sleep
SI IS TI
Enter Rosalind and Celia.
Ros. How say you now? Is it not past two o'clock ? and here much Orlando!
Cel. I warrant you, with pure love, and troubled brain, he hath ta'en his bow and arrows, and is gone forth- to sleep: Look, who comes here.
(Giving a letter.
Sil. My errand is to you, fair youth;-
and waspish action
Ros. Patience herself would startle at this letter,
Sil. No, I protest, I know not the coutents ;
Come, come, you are a tool, And turn'd into the extremity of love.
I saw her hand : she has a leather hand,
She has a huswife's hand: but that's no matter:
Sil. Sure, it is hers.
Ros. Why, 'tis a boisterous and 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; Yet heard too much of Phebe's cruelty. Ros. She Phebes me; Mark how the tyrant writes.
Art thou god to shepherd turn'd, [Reads.
That a maiden's heart hath burn'd-
you this railing ?
Warrist thou with a woman's heurt ? Did you ever hear such railing ?
While the eye of man did woo me,
That could do no vengeance* to me.
If the scorn of your bright eynet
. My erraad is to you, fair soet,
My geole Poebe bid me give you ther: I knov Dol the content, but, as I pray by the stere bror, and vaspus action
Whaca se did use as she was writing oʻh It beans an angry tenour: pardon bil, I am but as a guiltless messenger.
Ros. Patience herself rould startet
was, I am not fair, that I lad med
calis De proud; and, that ske could be
by write ste so to me: _Well, shepherd
15 15 a letter of your own device. Jd. No, I protest, I kaow not the cute
Come, come, you are
he did write it.
Na into the ertretut of love
ber baad: she has a leathern tant stone-colour'd haod; / renir did the her old glores were on, burimas de la
Sil. Call you this chiding? Cel. Alas, poor shepherd ! Ros. Do you pity him? no, he deserves no pity. Wilt thou love such a womau?-What, to make thee an instrument, and play false strains upon thee! Dot 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.
Oli. Good-morrow, fair ones: Pray you, if yok
Oli. If that an eye may profit by a tongue,
favour, and bestows himself
Cel. It is no boast, being ask'd, to say, we are:
* Environs of a forest.
Scene III. AS YOU LIKE IT. 409
Ros. I am: What must we understand by this ?
Oli. Some of my shane; if you will know of me
I pray you, tell it.
And well he might do so,
Ros. But, to Orlando;-Did he leave him there,
Semale farour, and bestows himely ike a ripe sister: but the woman los, nd brooner than her brother. Are bat le owner of the house I did inquire far? fel. It is no borst, being ask'a, to se},
V. Orlando doth commend him to falar
* Handkerchief. VOL. II.