.

have died from time to time, and worms have eaten them; but not for love.

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

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

Orla. Then love me, Rofalind.

Rof. Yes, faith, will I, Fridays and Saturdays, and all.
Orla. And wilt thou have me?

Rof. Ay, and twenty fuch.
Orla. What fay'ft thou?
Rof. Are you not good?
Orla. I hope fo.

Rof. Why then, can one defire too much of a good thing? Come, fifter, you fhall be the priest, and marry Give me your hand, Orlando. What do you fay,

us.

fifter?

Orla. Pray thee, marry us.

Cel. I cannot fay the words.
Rof. You must begin,

-Will you, Orlando

Cel. Go to; will you, Orlando, have to wife this Rofalind?

Orla. I will.

Rof. Ay, but when?

Orla. Why now, as fast as she can marry us.

Rof. Then you must fay, I take thee, Rofalind for

wife.

Orla. I take thee Rofalind for wife.

Rof. I might afk you for your commiffion, 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 would you have her, after you have poffefs'd her?

Orla. For ever and a day.

No, no, Or

Rof. Say a day, without the ever. lando: men are April when they woo, December ' when they wed; maids are May when they are maids, but the fky changes when they are wives: I will be more jealous of thee than a Barbary cock-pigeou

;

• over his hen; more clamorous than a parrot against rain more new-fangled than an ape; more giddy in my de'fires than a monkey: I will weep for nothing, like Diana • in the fountain, and I will do that when you are difpos'd 'to be merry: I will laugh like a hyen, and that when you are inclin'd to weep.'

Orla. But will my Rofalind do fo?

Rof. By my life, fhe will do as I do.
Orla. O, but she is wife.

Rof. Or elfe fhe could not have the wit to do this; the wiser, the waywarder: make the doors faft upon a woman's wit, and it will out at the cafement; fhut that, and 'twill out at the key hole; ftop that, it will fly with the fmoak out at the chimney.

Orla. A man that had a wife with fuch 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 the came to feek you there: you fhall never take her without her answer, unless you take her without her tongue. O that woman that cannot make her fault her husband's occafion, let her never nurse her child herself, for fhe will breed it like a fool!

Orla. For thefe two hours, Rofalind, 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 lefs; that flattering tongue of yours won me; tis but one call away, and fo come death. Two o' th' clock is your hour!

Orla. Ay, fweet Rofalind.

Rof. 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 promife, or come one minute behind your hour, I will think you the most atheiftical break-promife, and the moft hollow lover, and the moft unworthy of her you call Rofalind, that may be chofen out of the grofs band of the unfaithful; therefore beware my cenfure, and keep your promise.

Z 3

Orla.

Orla. With no less religion, than if thou wert indeed my Rofalind; fo adieu.

Rof. Well, Time is the old juftice that examines all fuch offenders, and let Time try. Adieu! [Exit Orla.

SCENE III.

Cel. You have fimply mifus'd our fex in your loveprate: we must have your doublet and hose pluck'd over your head, and fhew the world what the bird hath done to her own neft.

Rof. O coz, coz, coz, my pretty little coz, that thou didft 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, bottomlefs; that as fast as you pour affection in it, it runs out.

6

Rof. No, that fame wicked bastard of Venus, that was begot of thought, conceiv'd of spleen, and born of madness; that blind rafcally boy, that abuses every one's 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 fight of Orlando; I'll go find a fhadow, and figh till he come.

Cel. And I'll fleep.

[Exeunt

SCENE IV. Enter Jaques, Lords, and Foreflers.

Jaq. Let's prefent him to the Duke, like a Roman conqueror; and it would do well to fet the deer's horns upon his head, for a branch of victory. Have you no fong, Forefter for this purpose?

For. Yes, Sir.

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

Mufic, Song.

What shall he have that kill'd the deer;
His leather fkin and horns to wear;

Then

Rof. How fay 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 fleep. Look, who comes here.

Enter Silvius.

Syl. My errand is to you, fair youth,
My gentle Phebe bid me give you this:
I know not the contents; but, as I guess,
By the ftern brow and waspish action
Which fhe did ufe as fhe was writing of it,
It bears an angry tenor; pardon me,
I am but as a guiltlefs meffenger.

Rof. Patience herself would startle at this letter,
And play the fwaggerer; bear this, bear all,
She fays I am not fair; that I lack manners;
She calls me proud, and that she could not love me
Were man as rare as phoenix: 'odds my will!
Her love is not the hare that I do hunt.
Why writes the fo to me? Well, thepherd, well,
This is a letter of your own device.

Syl. No, I protest 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, she has a leathern hand,

A free-ftone-colour'd hand; I verily did think,
That her old gloves were on, but 'twas her hands;
She has a hufwife's hand, but that's no matter;
1 fay, fhe never did invent this letter;
This is a man's invention, and his hand.
Syl. Sure it is hers.

Ref.

Rof. Why, 'tis a boifterous and a cruel style, A flyle for challengers; why, the defies me, Like Turk to Chriftian; 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? Syl. 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?

Syl. Call you this railing?

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

Did you ever hear fuch railing?
Whiles the eye of man did woo me,
That could do no vengeance to mè.
Meaning me a beaft!

If the fcorn of your bright eyne
Have power to raife fuch love in mine,
Alack, in me, what frange effect
Would they work in mild afpe&?
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
IVill the faithful offer take
Of me, and all that I can make;
Or elfe by him my love deny,
And then I'll fudy how to die.

Syl. 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 fee love me, I charge her in love thee; if he will