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? Ros. Why, horns; which such as you are fain to be beholden to your wives for: but he comes armed in his fortune, and prevents the slander of his wife. Orl. Virtue is no horn-maker; and my Rosalind is virtuous. Ros. And I am your Rosalind. Cel. It pleases him to call you so; but he hath a Rosalind of a better leer than you. 6 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 I were your very very Rosalind? 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 6 i. e. complexion, colour, probably from the Saxon hleaɲe, facies. In Titus Andronicus, Act iv. Sc. 2, 'Here's a young lad framed of another leer.' Thus in Isumbras MS. Cott. Cal. 11. 'His lady is white as whales bone, So fair as blosme on tre.' And in the Romance of the Sowdon of Babyloyne : Again in Kyng Alysaunder: v. 798: The lady is rody in the chere So Skelton in his Philip Sparowe, 1568: The Indy saphyre blewe Her vaynes doth ennew, The orient pearle so cleare The witnes of her lere.' occasion to kiss. Very good orators, when they are out, they will spit; and for lovers, lacking (God warn us!) matter, the cleanliest shift is to kiss. Orl. How if the kiss be denied? Ros. Then she puts you to entreaty, and there begins new matter. Orl. Who could be out, being before his beloved mistress? Ros. Marry, that should you, if I were your mistress; or I should think my honesty ranker than my wit. Orl. What, of my suit? Ros. Not out of your apparel, and yet out of your suit. Orl. I take some joy to say you are, because I would be talking of her. Ros. Well, in her person, I say—I will not have you. Orl. Then, in mine own person, I die. Ros. No, faith, die by attorney. The poor world is almost six thousand years old, and in all this time there was not any man died in his own person, videlicet, in a love-cause. Troilus had his brains dashed out with a Grecian club; yet he did what he could to die before; and he 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 SesBut these are all lies; men have died from tos. 7 The foolish chroniclers.' Sir Thomas Hanmer reads coroners; and it must be confessed the context seems to warrant the innovation, unless Shakspeare means to designate the jury impanneled on a coroner's inquest by the term chroniclers. VOL. III. S 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: But 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? Ros. Ay, and twenty such. 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. Cel. I cannot say the words. Cel. Go to: this Rosalind? Orl. I will. Will you, Orlando, -Will you, Orlando, have to wife Ros. Ay, but when? Orl. Why now; as fast as she can marry us. for wife. Orl. I take thee, Rosalind, for wife. Ros. I might ask you for your commission; but, -I do take thee, Orlando, for my husband: There a girl goes before the priest; and, certainly, a woman's thought runs before her actions. 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, 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 desires than a monkey: I will weep for nothing, like Diana in the fountain; and I will do that when you are disposed to be merry: I will laugh like a hyen9, and that when thou art inclined to sleep. Orl. But will my Rosalind do so? Ros. Or else she could not have the wit to do this: the wiser, the waywarder: Make the doors 10 upon a woman's wit, and it will out at the casement; shut that, and 'twill out at the key-hole; stop that, 'twill fly with the smoke out at the chimney. 8 Figures, and particularly that of Diana, with water conveyed through them, were anciently a frequent ornament of fountains. So in The City Match: Such an image of Diana,' with water prilling from her naked breasts,' was set up at the cross in Cheapside in 1596. According to Stowe, Torriano defines Figura in Fontana che butti acqua, as an antike image, from whose teats water trilleth.' One of these fountains is represented in the Hypnerotomachia, printed by Aldus, 1499. See a note on King Henry VI. Part II. Act iv. Sc. 5. 9 The bark of the hyæna was thought to resemble a loud laugh. 10 i. e. bar the doors. Orl. A man that had a wife with such a wit, he might say,- Wit, whither wilt 11? Ros. Nay, you might keep that check for it, till you met your wife's wit going to your neighbour's bed. Orl. And what wit could wit have to excuse that? Ros. Marry, to say,—she came to seek you there. You shall never take her without her answer 12, unless you take her without her tongue. O, that woman that cannot make her fault her husband's occasion 13, let her never nurse her child herself, for she will breed it like a fool. Orl. For these two hours, Rosalind, I will leave thee. Ros. Alas, dear love, I cannot lack thee two hours. Orl. I must attend the duke at dinner; by two o'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 so,— come, death.-Two o'clock is your hour? Orl. Ay, sweet Rosalind. Ros. By my troth, and in good earnest, and so God mend me, and by all 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 11 Wit, whither wilt? This was a kind of proverbial phrase, the origin of which has not been traced. It seems to be used chiefly to express a want of command over the fancy or inventive faculty. It occurs in many writers of Shakspeare's time. 12 This bit of satire is also to be found in Chaucer's Marchantes Tale, where Proserpine says of women on like occasion: For lacke of answere none of us shall dien.' 13 i. e. represent her fault as occasioned by her husband. Hanmer reads, her husband's accusation,' |