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his house on his head : a better jointure, I think, than you a ake a woman; besides, he brings his destiny with him.

Orla. 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,

Orla. Virtue is no horn-maker; and my Rosalind is vir.uous.

Ros. And I am your Rojalind.

Cél. It pleases him to call you fo; but he hath a Rosalind of a better leer than you.

Rof. Come, woo me, woo me? fer now I am in a holyday humour, and like enough to confent: what would you say to me now, an I were your very, very Rosalind ?

Orla. I would kiss, before I spoke.

Rof. Nay, you were better speak first, and when you were gravell’d for lack of matter, you might take occasion to kiss. Very good orators, when they are out, they will {pit; and for lover's

. lacking, God warn us, matter, the cleanliest shift is to kiss.

Orla. How if the kiss be denied ?

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

Orla. Who could be out, being before his beloved mistress? Rof. Marry, that should

you,
if I were your

mistress? or 1 should think my honesty ranker than my wit.

Orla. What, of my suit ? Rof. Not out of your apparel, and yet out of your fuit. Am not I your Rofaland ?

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

Rof, Well, in her person, I say, I will not have you.
Orla. Then in mine own person I die.

Roj. 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 person, videlicet, in a love-cause : Troilus: had his brains dai'd 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

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have fiv'd many a fair year, tho' Hero had turn'd nun, if it had not been for a hot midsummer night ; for, good youth, he went but forth to wash in the Hellefpont, and, being taken with the cramp, was drown'd; and the foolish chroniclers of that age found it was,

Hero of Seftos. But these are all lies ; men have died from time to time, and worms have eaten them, but not for love.

Orla. I would not have my right Rosalind of this mind; for, I proteft, her frown might kill me.

Rof. By this hand, it will not kill a flie; but come ; now I will be your Rosalind in a more coming-on disposition ; and ask me what you will, I will grant it.

Orla. Then love me, Rosalind.
Ros. Yes, faith, will I, Fridays and Saturdays, and all.
Orla. And wilt thou have me?
Rof. Ay, and

tweniy

fuch.
Orla. What say'st thou ?
Rof. Are you not good ?
Orla. I hope fo.
Rof. 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, fifter:

Orla. Pray thee, marry us.
Cel. I cannot say the words.
Rof. You must begin, --- Will you, Orlando

Cel. Go to: will you, Orlando, have to wife this
Rosalind?

Orla. I will.
Rof. Ay, but when ?

Orla. Why now, as fast as she can marry.us.
Ros. Then you must say, I take thee Rosalind for wife.

Orla. I take thee Rojalind for wife. Ref. I might ask you for your commiflion, but I do take thee Orlando for my husband : there's a girl goes before the priest, and certainly a woman's thought runs before her actions.

Orla. So do all thoughts; they are wing’d.

Rof. Now tell me, how long you would have her after. you have pofleft her. Orla. For ever and a daya

Rafa

Rof. 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 cock-pigeon 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 hyen, and that when you are inclin'd to sleep.

Orla. But will my Rosalind do fo ?
Rof. By my life, she will do as I do.
Orla. O, but she is wise.

Roj. Or else the could not have the wit to do this ; the wifer, the waywarder; make the doors fast upon a woman's wit, and it will out at the casement; fhut 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 :vilt ?

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

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

Rof, Marry, to say she came to seek you there : you Shall never take her without her answer, unless you

take her without her tongue. O that woman that cannot make her fault her husband's occasion, let her never nurse her child herself, for she will breed it like a fool !

Orla. For the e two hours, Rosalind, I will leave thee, Rof. Alas, dear love, I cannot-lack thee two hours.

Orla. I must attend the Duke at dinner; by two o'clock I will be with thee again.

Rof. 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 Aattering tongue of yours won me; 'tis but one caft away, and so come death: Two o'th'clock is your

hour! Orla. Ay, sweet Rosalind.

Ros. By my troth, and in good eames, and fo Godk mend me, and by all pretty cashs that are not dangerous,

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if you break one jot of your promise, or come one minute behind your hour, I will think you the most pathetical break-promise, 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 fimply misus'd our sex in your love-prate: We muft have your doublet and hose pluck'd over your head, and thew the world what the bird hath done to her own neft.

Ros; O coz, coz, coz, my pretty little coz, that thou didt 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. No, that fame wicked bastard of Venus, that was
begot of thought, conceiv'd of spleen, and born of
madness, that blind rascally boy, that abuses every one's
eyes, because his own are out, let him be judge, how deep
I am in love ; l'll tell thee, Aliena, I cannot be out of
the fight of Orlando ; I'll go find a shadow, and sigh 'till
he come.
Cel. And I'll sleep.

Exeunt.
Enter Jaques, Lordsy and Forefter s.
Yaq. Which is he that kill'd the deer ?
Lord. Sir, it was l.

Jaq. 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 victory; have you no long, forefter, for this purpose ?

For. Yes, Sir.

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

Musick,

1

Mufick, Song
What shall he have that kill'd the deer ?
His leather skin and horns to wear;
Then fing him home :-take thou no
scorn (24)

The reft stial)

bear this bure To wear the horn, the horn, the horn :

den,
It was a crelt ere thou wast born.
Thy father's father wore it,
And thy father bore it,
The horn, the horn, the lufty horn,
Is not a thing to laugh to scorn. (Exeunt.

Enter Rosalind and Celia.
Rof. How say you now, is it not past two o'clock.
I wonder much, Orlando is not here.

Cel. I warrant you, with pure love and troubled brain, he hath ta’en his bow and arrows, and is gone forth to Neep: Look, who comes here.

Enter Silvius.
Sil. My errand is to you, fair youth,
My gentle Pbebe bid me give you this :
I know not the contents; but, as I guess,
By the stern brow, and waspish action
Which she did use as she was writing of it,
It bears an angry tenour ; pardon me,
I am but as a guiltless messenger.

Rof. Patience herself would startle at this letter,
And play the swaggerer ; bear this, beas all.

(24) Tben fing him bome, the rest shall bear this burden.) This is an admirable inftance of the fagacity of our preceding editors, to say nothing worse. One fhould expect, when they were poets, they would at least have taken care of the Rbymes, and not foifted in what has nothing to answer it. Now, where is the rhime to, ibe rest hall bear ebis burden? or, to ask another question, where is the sense of it? does the poet mean, that he, that killed the deer, shall be fung home, and the rest shall hear the deer on their backs ? This is laying a burden on the poet, that we must help him to throw off. In short, the mystery of the whole is, that a marginal note is wisely thrust into the text: The song being design'd to be sung by a lingle voice, and the stanzas to close with a burden to be sung by the whole company.

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