the heart of his lover; as a puny tilter, that spurs Cor. Mistress, and master, you have oft enquired Cel. Well, and what of him? Cor. If you will see a pageant truly play'd, Ros. O, come, let us remove; The sight of lovers teedeth those in love:— SCENE V. Another part of the forest. Enter Silvius and Phebe. Phe. But, 'till that time, 10 Come not thou near me: and when that time comes, Afflict me with thy mocks, pity me not; As, 'till that time, I shall not pity thee. Ros. And why, I pray you?-Who might be 15 That you insult, exult, and all at once, [Exeunt. 20 Why, what means this? Why do you look on me? Sil. Sweet Phebe, do not scorn me; do not, 25 Tis not your inky brows, your black-silk hair, Phebe: Say, that you love me not; but say not so Now counterfeit to swoon; why, now fall down: Your bugle eye-balls, nor your cheek of cream, That can entame my spirits to your worship.You foolish shepherd, wherefore do you follow her Like foggy south, puffing with wind and rain? 30 You are a thousand times a properer man, Than she a woman: "Tis such fools as you, That make the world full of ill-favour'd children: 'Tis not her glass, but you, that flatters her; And out of you she sees herself more proper, 35 Than any of her lineaments can show her.But, mistress, know yourself; down on your knees, And thank heaven, fasting, for a good man's love: For I must tell you friendly in your ear,→ Sell when you can; you are not for all markets: 40 Cry the man mercy; love him; take his offer; Foul is most foul, being foul to be a scoffer". So, take her to thee, shepherd;-fare you well. Phe. Sweet youth, I pray you chide a year together; 45 I had rather hear you chide, than this man woo. Ros [aside.] He's fallen in love with her foulness, and she'll fall in love with my anger:-If it be so, as fast as she answers thee with frowning looks, I'll sauce her with better words.-Why look you so upon me? [eyes 50 Phe. For no ill will I bear you. across, as it was a mark either of want of courage or address. This happened when the horse flew on one side, in the career; and hence, I suppose, arose the jocular proverbial phrase of spurring the horse only on one side. Now as breaking the lance against his adversary's breast, in a direct line, was honourable, so the breaking it across against his breast was, for the reason above, dishonourable. Sir T. Hanmer changed this to a nose-quill'd goose, but no one appears to have regarded the alteration. Certainly nose-quill'd is an epithet likely to be corrupted; and it gives the image wanted. To die and live by a thing is to be constant to it, to persevere in it to the end. The meaning therefore of the passage may be, who is all his life conversant with bloody drops. Fancy is here used for love. *i.e. all in a breath. i. e. those works that nature makes up carelessly and without exactness. The allusion is to the practice of mechanicks, whose work bespoke is more elaborate than that which is made up for chance customers, or to sell in quantities to retailers, which is called sule-work. The meaning is, The ill-favour'd seem most ill-favoured, when, though ill-favoured, they are scoffers. 5 Ros. Act 4. Scene 1.] AS YOU LIKE IT.. Ros. I pray you, do not fall in love with me; Who ever lov'd, that lov'd not at first sight? Sil. Sweet Phebe! Phe. Hah! what say'st thou, Silvius ? Sil. Sweet Phebe, pity me. Phe. Why, I am sorry for thee, gentle Silvius. Sil. Wherever sorrow is, relief would be: f you If y do sorrow at my grief in love, [bourly Phe. Thou hast my love: Is not that neigh- Phe. Why, that were covetousness. of poverty grace, That I shall think it a most plenteous crop Sil. Not very well, but I have met him oft; - Phe. Think not I love him, though I ask for him. him: He'll make a proper man: The best thing in him Is his complexion; and faster than his tongue Did make offence, his eye did heal it up. He is not very tall; yet for his years he's tall : 'tis well: 15His leg is but so so; and yet There was a pretty redness in his lip; A little riper, and more lusty red Than that mix'd in his cheek; 'twas just the difference 20 Betwixt the constant red, and mingled damask. There be some women, Silvius, had they mark'd him In parcels as I did, would have gone near 30 marvel, why I answer'd not again: That the main harvest reaps: loose now and then 35 Phe. Know'st thou the youth that spoke to me ere-while? The matter's in my head, and in my heart: [Exeunt. SCENE I. The Forest. ACT IV. Enter Rosalind, Celia, and Jaques. Jaq. Prythee, pretty youth, let me be better acquainted with thee. nor the soldier's, which is ambitious; nor the lawyer's, which politick; nor the lady's, which is nice; nor the lover's, which is all these: but 50 it is a melancholy of mine own, compounded of many simples, extracted from many objects, and, indeed, the sundry contemplation of my travels, in which my often rumination wraps me in a most humorous sadness. Ros. They say, you are a melancholy fellow. Jaq. I am so; I do love it better than laughing. Ros. Those, that are in extremity of either, are 55 abominable fellows; and betray themselves to every modern censure, worse than drunkards. Jaq. Why, 'tis good to be sad and say nothing. Ros. Why then, 'tis good to be a post. Jag. I have neither the scholar's melancholy, 60 which is emulation; nor the musician's, which is fantastical; nor the courtier's, which is proud; Ros. A traveller! by my faith, you have great Juq. Yes, I have gain'd my experience. Ros. And your experience makes you sad. I had rather have a fool to make me merry, than experience to make me sad; and to travel tor it too. Orla. Good day and happiness, dear Rosalind! Jaq. Nay then, God be wi' you, an you talk 5 in blank verse. [Exit. Ros. Farewel, monsieur traveller: Look, you lisp, and wear strange suits: disable all the benefits of your own country; be out of love with your nativity, and almost chide God for making you 10 that countenance you are; or I will scarce think you have swam in a gondola'.-Why, how now, Orlando! where have you been all this while? You a lover?an you serve me such another trick, never come in my sight more. Orla. My fair Rosalind, I come within an hour of my promise. 15 Ros. Break an hour's promise in love? He that will divide a minute into a thousand parts, and break but a part of the thousandth part of a mi-20 nute in the affairs of love, it may be said of him, that Cupid hath clapp'd him o' the shoulder, but Í warrant him heart-whole. Orla. Pardon me, dear Rosalind. Orla. What, of my suit? Ros. Not out of your apparel, and yet out of your suit. Am not I your Rosalind? Orla. 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. Orla. 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 dash'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 have liv'd many a fair year, though Hero had turn'd 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 Sestos. But these are all lyes; 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 Ros. Nay, an you be so tardy, come no more 25 mind; for, I protest, her frown might kill me. in my sight, I had as lief be woo'd of a snail. Orla. Of a snail? lind is virtuous. Ros. And I am your Rosalind. 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, t will grant it. Orlu. Then love me, Rosalind. Ros. Yes, faith will Í, Fridays, and Saturdays, jand all. Orla. And wilt thou have me? Ros. Why then, can one desire too much of a good thing? -Come, sister, you shall be the Cel. It pleases him to call you so; but he hath 40 priest, and marry us,Give me your hand, Ore a Rosalind of a better leer' than you. Ros. Come, wod 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? Orla. I would kiss, before I spoke. 45 Ros. 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 spit; and for lovers, 50 lacking (God warn us!) matter, the cleanliest shift is to kiss. Orla. How if the kiss be denied? Ros. Then she puts you to entreaty, and there begins new matter. Orla. 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. lando:-What do you say, sister? Orla. Pray thee, marry us. Cel. I cannot say the words. Ros. You must begin,-"Will you, Orlando," Cel. Go to:--Will you, Orlando, have to wife this Rosalind? Orła. I will. Ros. Ay, but when? Orla. Why now; as fast as she can marry us. Ros. Then you must say," I take thee Rosaiind, for wife." Oria. I take thee, Rosalind, for wife. Ros. I might ask you for your commission; but I do take thee, Orlando, for my husband: There's 554 girl goes before the priest; and, certainly, a woman's thought runs before her actions. 60 Orla. So do all thoughts; they are wing'd. Ros. Now tell me, how long would you have her, after you have possess'd her? Orla. For ever, and a day. That is, been at Venice, which was much visited by the young English gentlemen of those times, and was then, what Paris is now-the seat of all licentiousness. i. e. of a better feature, complexion, or colour, than you. Hanmer and Edwards read Coroner's, which I approve. S, A. 3 Ros Ros. Say a day, without the ever: No, no, Or- Orla. But will my Rosalind do so? 10 pluck'd over your head, and shew the world what the bird hath done to her own nest. Ros. O coz, coz, coz, my pretty little coz, that thou didst know how many fathom deep I am in love: But it cannot be sounded; 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. Ros. No, that same 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:-I'll tell thee, Aliena, I cannot be out of sight of Orlan 15 do: I'll go find a shadow, and sigh till he come. Cel. And I'll sleep. [Exeunt. Ros. Or else she could not have the wit to do this: the wiser, the waywarder: Make the doors' upon a woman's wit, and it will out at the casement; shut that, and 'twill out at the key-hole; stop that, it will fly with the smoak out at the 20 chimney. Orla. A man that had a wife with such a wit, he might say," Wit, whither wilt?" Ros. 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 excuse that? Enter Jaques, Lords, and Foresters. 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: 25-Have you no song, forester, for this purpose? For. Yes, sir. Ros. Marry, to say,-she came to seek you there. You shall never take her without her an-30 swer, 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 these two hours, Rosalind, I will 35 leave thee. Ros. 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. Ros. Ay, go your ways, go your ways;-I knew 40 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'the clock is your hour? Orla. Ay, sweet Rosalind. Jaq. Sing it; 'tis no matter how it be in tune so it make noise enough. Musick, Song. 1. What shall he have, that kill'd the deer?. Take thou no scorn To wear the horn, the lusty horn; 1. Thy father's father wore it; SCENE III.. Enter Rosalind, and Celia. The rest shall bear this bar den. [Exeunt. Ros. How say you now? Is it not past two o'clock and here's much Orlando! |45|| Cel. Iwarrant you, with pure love, and troubled 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 the most pathetical break-promise, and the 50 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 55 indeed my Rosalind: So, adieu. Ros. Well, time is the old justice that examines all such offenders, and let time try: Adieu ! [Exit Orlando. Cel. You have simply misus'd our sex in your 60 Love-prate: we must have your doublet and hose i, e, bar the doors. Sil. My errand is to you, fair youth ;- [Giving a letter. I know not the contents; but, as I guess, I am but as a guiltless messenger. [this letter, That is, represent her fault as occasioned by her husband. Her love is not the hare that I do hunt: Sil. No, I protest, I know not the contents; Ros. Come, come, you are a fool, A freestone-coloured hand; I verily did think Sil. Sure, it is hers. 5 Enter Olizer. Oli. Good-morrow, fair ones: Pray you, if you Where in the purlieus of this forest, stands [know A sheep-cote, fenc'd about with olive-trees? Cel. 'West of this place, down in the neighbour The rank of osiers, by the murmuring stream, Oli. If that an eye may profit by a tongue, garments, and such years: "The boy is fair, Ros. Why, 'tis a boisterous and a cruel stile, Ros. She Phebe's me: Mark how the tyrant] writes. [Reads.]" Art thou god to shepherd turn'd, That a maiden's heart hath burn'd?"— Can a woman rail thus? Sil. Call you this railing? Ros. [Reads.] "Why, thy godhead laid apart, "War'st thou with a woman's heart?" Did you ever hear such railing? "Whiles the eye of man did woo me, That could do no vengeance' to me."Meaning me a beast.— "If the scorn of your bright eyne Of me, and all that I can make; Sil. Call you this chiding? Cel. It is no boast, being ask'd, to say, we are. Cel. I pray you, tell it. [you, Oli. When last the young Orlando parted from Lay sleeping on his back: about his neck 40 Seeing Orlando, it unlink'd itself, Lay couching, head on ground, with cat-like watch, 45 When that the sleeping man should stir; for 'tis The royal disposition of that beast, 50 Ros. Do you pity him? no, he deserves no pity.-Wilt thou love such a woman?—What, to make thee an instrument, and play false strains upon thee! not to be endured!-Well, go your way to her, (for I see love hath made thee a tame 55 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 intreat for her." If you be a true lover, hence, and not a word; for here comes more company. [Exit Silvius. To prey on nothing that doth seem as dead: And he did render him the most unnatural Oli. And well he might so do, Ros. But, to Orlando:-Did he leave him there, Oli. Twice did he turn his back, and purpos'd so: 1i.e. mischief. 2 Kind (as has been more than once observed) is the old word for nature. 3i. e. handkerchief. Who |