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Rof. Not true in love ?
Cel. Was, is not is; besides, the oath of a lover is no itronger than the word of a tapiter; they are both the confirmers of false reckonings : he attends here in the forest on the Duke your father.
Rof. I met the Duke yesterday, and had much queition with him: he aiked me of what parentage I was; I told him of as good as he; so he laughed, and let ine go. But what talk we of fathers, when there is such a man as Orlando?
Cel. O, that's a brave man! he writes brave verses, speaks brave words, swears brave oaths, and breaks them bravely, quite travers athwart the heart of his lover; as a puisny tilter, that spurs his horse but one side, breaks his staff like a noble goose; but all’s brave that youth mounts, and folly guides. Who comes here?
Enter CORIN. Cor. Mistress and master, you have oft enquired After the shepherd that complained of love, Whom thou law fitting by me on the turf, Praising the proud disdainful shepherdess That was his mistress.
Cel. Well; and what of him?
Cor. If you will see a pageant truly played Between the pale complexion of true love, And the red glow of (corn and proud disdain, Go hence a little, and I shall conduct you, And you will mark it.
Ryf. O come, let us remove; The light of lovers feeding those in love : Bring us but to this fight, and you thall fay I'll prove a busy actor in their play. [Exeunt.
SCENE changes to another part of the Forest.
VIUS and PREBE.
Enter ROSALIND, CELIA and CORIN. Phe. I would not be thy executioner; I fly thee, for I would not injure thee. Thou telleit me, there is niurder in mine eyes; 'Tis pretty, fure, and very probable, That eyes, that are the fraileit and softest things, Who shut their coward gates on atomies, Should be called tyrants, butchers, murderers !--- ! Now I do frown on thee with all my heart, And if mine eyes can wound, now let them kill thee:, Now counterféit to fwoon ; why, now fall down; Or if thou can'st not, oh, for shame, for shame, Lie not, to fay mine eyes are murderers. Now shew the wound mine eyes have made in thee: Scratch thee but with a pin, and there remains Some scar of it; lean but upon a rush, The cicatrice and capable impressure
you flirner be, Than he that dies and lives by blondy drops ??) This is spoken of the executioner. He lives, indeed, by bloody drops, if you will : but how does he die by bloody drops ? the Poet must certainly have wrote that desis and lives, &c. i. e. that gets his bread, and makes a trade of cutting off heads.
Mr Warou 10%.
Thy palm fome inoment keeps; but now mine eyes,
Sil. O dear Phebe,
Then shall you know the wounds invisible That Love's keen arrows make.
Phe. But, 'till that time, Come not thou near me; and when that time comes, Alliet me with thy mocks, pity me not; As, 'till that time, I shall not pity thee. [mother,
Rof. And why, I pray you? who'might be your (22.) That you infult; exult, and rail, at once Over the wretched? (23) What though you have (As, by my faith, I fee no more in you [beauty, Than without candle may go dark to bed,) Must you be therefore proud and pityless? Why, what means this? why do you look on me? I see no more in you than in the ordinary Of Nature's fale-work: odds
little life! I think she means to tangle mine eyes too: No, faith, proud mistress, hope not after it; (22) That you insult, exult, and all at once
Over the wretched ?] If the speaker only intended to accuse the perfon (poken to, for insulting and exulting, inItead of all at once, it ought to have been, both at once. Bat on examining, according to fact, the crime of the perfou accused, we mall find we ought to tead the line thus;
That you insult, exult, and rail, at once, &c. For these three things Phebe was guilty of. Mr Wurburlon.
(23) What though you have no beauty,] Though all the printed copies agree in this reading, it is very accurately observed to me by an ingenious unknown correspondent, who ligns himself L. H (and to whom I can only here make my acknowledgmeats) that the negative ought to be left out.
?Tis not your inky brows, your black Glk hair,
that flatter her,
Phe. Sweet youth, I pray you chide a year together; I had rather hear you chide, than this man wco.
Rof. He's fallen in love with her foulness, and she'll fall in love with my anger. If it be fo, as fast as the anfwers thee with frowning looks, I'd sauce her with bitter words. Why Jook you fo
Phe. For no ill-will I hear you.
Ref. I pray you do not fall in love with me, For I am falfer than vows made in wine; Besides, I like you not. If you will know my houfe, 'Tis at the tuft of olives, here hard by: Will you go, fifter? Shepherd, ply her hard:. Come, fifter. Shepherdess, look on him better, And be not proud; though all the world could feey None could be so abused in fight as he Come, to our flock.
[Exit. Pbe. Dead shepherd, now I find thy faw of might;. Who ever loved, that loved not at first sight?
Sil. Sweet Phebe!
Sil. Where-ever sorrow is, relief would be;
Pbe. Why, that were covetousness. Silvius, the time was that I hated thee; And yet it is not that I bear thee love; But since that thou canst talk of love fo well, Thy company, which erst was irksome to me, I will endure; and I'll employ thee too: But do not look for further recompence Than thine own gkidness that thou art employed
Sil. So holy and fo perfect is my love, And I in fuch'a poverty of grace, That I shall think it a most plenteous crop To glean the broken ears after the man ini That the main harveid reaps: loose now and then A scattered smile, and that I'll live upon. Phe. Knoweft thou the youth that fpoke to me
ere-while? Sil. Not very well, but I have met him oft; And he hath bought the cottage and the bounds That the old Carlot once was master of.,
Phe. Think not I love him, tho' I ask for him; 'Tis but a peevish boy, yet he talks well. But what care I for words & yet words do well, When he that speaks them pleafes those that hear. It is a pretty youth, not very pretty;