She fays, I am not fair; that I lack manners;
She calls me proud, and that he could not love me
Were men as rare as phoenix: 'Odds my will!
Her love is not the hare that I do hunt.
Why writes the fo to me? well, fhepherd, well,
This is a letter of your own device.

Sil. No, I proteft, I know not the contents;
Phebe did write it.

Rof. Come, come, you're a fool,

And turn'd into th' extremity of love.

I faw her hand, fhe has a leathern hand,
A free-ftone coloured hand; I verily did think,
That her old gloves were on, but 'twas her hands;
She has a huíwife's hand, but that's no matter;
I fay, the never did invent this letter;

This is a man's invention, and his hand.
Sil. Sure, it is hers.

Rof. Why, 'tis a boisterous and a cruel stile,
A file for challengers; why, the defies me,
Like Turk to Chrift an; woman's gentle brain
Could not drop forth fuch 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.

Rof. She Phebe's me; mark how the tyrant writes. [Reads.] Art thou God to fhepherd turn'd,

'That a maiden's heart hath burn'd?

Can a woman rail thus ?

Sil. Call you this railing?

Rof. [Reads.] Why, thy godhead laid apart. Warr'ft thou with a woman's heart?

Did you ever bear fuck railing?

Whiles the eye of man did woo me,
That could do no vengeance to me.
Meaning me, a beast!

If the fcorn of your bright eyne
Have power to raise fuch love in mines
Alack, in me, what ftrange effect
Would they work in mild afpect?

Whiles you chid me, I did love;
How then might your prayers move?
He, that brings this love to thee,
Little knows this love in me;
And by him feal up thy mind,
Whether that thy youth and kind
Will the faithful offer take

Of me, and all that I can make ;
Or elfe by him my love deny,
And then I'll study how to die.
Sil. Call you this chiding?
Cel. Alas, poor fhepherd!

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 fnake,) and fay this to her; that if she love me, I charge her to love thee: If fhe 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. [Exit Sil.

Enter Oliver.

Oli. Good-morrow, fair ones: Pray you, if you know, Where in the purlews of this forest stands

A fheep-cote fenc'd about with olive-trees?

Cel. Weft of this place, down in the neighbour bottom, The rank of ofiers, by the murmuring ftream,

Left on your right-hand, brings you to the place;
But at this hour the house doth keep itself,

There's none within.

Oli. If that an eye may profit by a tongue,
Then should I know you by defcription,
Such garments, and fuch

years: The boy is fair,
"Of female favour, and beftows himself
"Like a ripe fifter: But the woman low,
"And browner than her brother." Are not you
The owner of the house, I did enquire for ?
Cel. It is no boaft, being afk'd, to fay,
Qli. Orlanda doth commend him to you

we are.

both,

And

And to that youth, he calls his Refalind,
He fends this bloody napkin. Are you he?

Rof. I am; what muft we understand by this?
Oli. Some of my fhame, if you will know of me
What man I am, and how, and why, and where
This handkerchief was ftain'd.

Cel. I pray you, tell it.

Oli. When laft the young Orlando parted from you, He left a promise to return again

Within an hour; and pacing through the foreft,
Chewing the food of fweet and bitter fancy,
Lo, what befel! he threw his eye afide,
And mark what object did prefent itself.
Under an oak, whose boughs were mofs'd with age,
And high top bald with dry antiquity;

A wretched ragged man, o'ergrown with hair,
Lay fleeping on his back; about his neck
A green and gilded snake had wreath'd itself,
Who with her head, nimble in threats, approach'd
The opening of his mouth, but fuddenly
Seeing Orlando, it unlink'd itfelf,
And with indented glides did flip away
Into a bush, under which bufh's fhade
A lionefs, with udders all drawn dry,

Lay couching head on ground, with cat-like watch
When that the fleeping man should stir; for 'tis
The royal difpofition of that beast

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 speak 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.

Rof. 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 so:

But kindness, nobler ever than revenge,

And nature ftronger than his juft occafion,

Made

Made him give battle to the lionefs,

Who quickly fell before him; in which hurtling
From miferable flumber I awak'd.

Cel. Are you his brother?

Rof. Was't you he refcu'd ?

Cel. Was't you that did so oft contrive to kill him ? Oli. "Twas I; but 'tis not I; I do not fhame

To tell

you what I was, fince my converfion

So fweetly taftes, being the thing I am.
Rof. But for the bloody napkin?

Oli. By and by

When from the firft to laft, betwixt us two,
Tears our recountments had most kindly bath'd,
As how I came into that defart place;
In brief, he led me to the gentle Duke,
Who gave me fresh array and entertainment,
Committing me unto my brother's love;
Who led me inftantly unto his cave,
There ftrip'd himself, and here

upon

The lionefs had torn fome flesh away,

his arm

Which all this while had bled; and now he fainted,
And cry'd in fainting upon Rofalind.-

Brief, I recover'd him; bound up

his wound;

And, after fome fmall space, being ftrong at heart,
He fent me hither, ftranger as I am,

To tell this story, that you might excuse
His broken promife; and to give this napkin
Dy'd in his blood, unto the fhepherd youth,
That he in sport doth call his Rosalind.

Cel. Why, how now Ganymed, fweet Ganymed?

[Rof. faints. Oli. Many will fwoon, when they do look on blood. Cel. There is more in it:-coufin Ganymed!

Oli. Look, he recovers.

Rof. Would I were at home!

Cel. We'll lead you thither.

I pray you, will you take him by the arm?

Oli. Be of good cheer, youth; you a man? you lack

a man's heart.

Rof. I do fo, I confess it. Ah, Sir, a body would

think, this was well counterfeited. I pray you, tell your brother how well I counterfeited: Heigh-ho!

Oli. This was not counterfeit, there is too great testimony in your complection, that it was a paffion of earnest. Rof. Counterfeit, I affure you.

Oli. Well then, take a good heart, and counterfeit to be a man.

Rof. So I do: But, i' faith, I should have been a woman by right.

Cel. Come, you look paler and paler; pray you draw homewards; good Sir, go with us.

Oli. That will I; for I must bear answer back, How you excufe my brother, Rofalind.

Rof. I fhall devife fomething; but, I pray you, commend my counterfeiting to him: Will you go? [Exeunt.

WE

A CT V.

SCENE the Foreft.

Enter Clown and Audrey.

CLOWN.

7E fhall find a time, Audrey; patience, gentle Audrey.

Aud. Faith, the priest was good enough, for all the old gentleman's faying.

Clo. A moft wicked Sir Oliver, Audrey; a moft vile Mar-text! but, Audrey, there is a youth here in the foreft lays claim to you.

Aud. Ay, I know who 'tis, he hath no interest in me in the world; here comes the man you mean.

Enter William.

Clo. It is meat and drink to me to fee a clown; by my troth, we, that have good wits, have much to answer for: We fhall be flouting; we cannot hold.