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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, 'twill fly with the smoke out at the chimney.

Orl. 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 inet your wife's wit going to your neighbour's bed.

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

Ros. 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.

Orl. For these two hours, Rosalind, I will leave thee.

Ros. Alas, dear love, I cannot lack thee two hours.

Orl. 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 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'clock is your hour?

Orl. Ay, sweet Rosalind.

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 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.

(1) Bar the doors.

Orl. With no less religion, than if thou wert indeed my Rosalind : So, adieu.

Ros. Well, time is the old justice that examines all such offenders, and let time try: Adieu !

[Erit Orlando. Cel. You have simply misus'd our sex in your love-prate: We must have your doublet and hose plucked over your head, and show the world what the bird hath done to her own nest.

Ros. O coz, coz, coz, my pretty little coz, that hou didst know how many fathom deep I am in love! But it cannot be sounded; my affection hath nn unknown bottom, like the bay of Portugal.

Cel. Or rather bottomless; that as fast as you lour affection in, it runs out.

Ros. No, that same wicked bastard of Venus, that was begot of thought, conceived of spleen, und 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 the sight of Orlando : I'll go find a shadow, and sigh till he (ome. Cel. And I'll sleep.

[Exeunt.

SCENE II.-Another part of the Forest. Enter

Jaques and Lords, in the habit of Foresters.
Jaq. Which is he that killed the deer?
1 Lord. Sir, it was I.

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 song, forester, for this purpose ?

2 Lord. Yes, sir.

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

(1) Melancholy.

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SONG.

1. What shall he have, that kill'd the deer? 2. His leather skin, and horns to wear.

1. Then sing him home : Take thou no scorn, to wear the horn;? The rest It was a crest ere thou wast born ;

shall bear

) this burden. 1. Thy father's father wore it;

2. And thy father bore it : All. The horn, the horn, the lusty horn,

Is not a thing to laugh to scorn..[Exeunt.

SCENE III.-The Forest. Enter Rosalind and

Celia.

Ros. How say you now? Is it not past two o'clock ? and here much Orlando!

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

Enter Silvius.
Sil. My errand is to you, fair youth ;-
My gentle Phebe bid me give you this :

[Giving a letter.
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 tenor : pardon me,
I am but as a guiltless messenger.

Ros. Patience herself would startle at this letter,
And play the swaggerer; bear this, bear all :
She says, I am not fair ; that I lack manners;
She calls me proud; and, that she could not love me
Were man as rare as phenix; Od's my will!
Her love is not the hare that I do hunt:
Why writes she so to me?-Well, shepherd, well,
This is a letter of your own device.

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

Come, come, you are a tool,
And turn'd into the extremity of love.
I saw her hand: she has a leathern hand,
A freestone-colour'd hand; I verily did think
That her old gloves were on, but 'twas her hands
She has a huswife's hand: but that's no matter :
I say, she never did invent this letter;.
This is a man's invention, and his hand.

Sil. Sure, it is hers.

Ros. Why, 'tis a boisterous and cruel style, A style for challengers; why, she defies me, Like Turk to Christian : wuman's gentle brain Could not drop forth such 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. Ros. She Phebes me : Mark how the tyrant

writes. Art thou god to shepherd turn'd, Reads,

That a maiden's heart hati burn'd?
Can a woman rail thus ?

Sil. Call you this railing ?
Ros. Why, thy godhead laid apart,

Warr'st thou with a woman's heart?
Did you ever hear such railing ?

While the eye of man did woo me,

That could do no vengeancel to me.--
Meaning me a beast.-

If the scorn of your bright eyncz
Have power to raise such love in mine,

(1) Mischief. (2) Eyes.

Alack, in me what strange effect
Would they work in mild aspect?
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 seal up thy mind ;
Whether that thy youth and kind i
Will the faithfül offer take
Of me, and all that I can make;
Or else by him my love deny,

And then I'll study how to die.
Sil. Call you this chiding?
Cel. Alas, poor shepherd !

Ros. Do you pity hiin? 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 tarne 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 entreat for her.-If you be a true lover, hence, and not a word ; for here comes more company.

(Exit Silvius. Enter Oliver. Oli. Good-morrow, fair ones : Pray you, if you

know Where, in the purlieus? of this forest, stands A sheepcote, fenc'd about with olive-trees? Cel. West of this place, down in the neighbour

bottom, The rank of osiers, by the murmuring stream, Left on your right hand, brings you to the place: But at this hour the house doth keep itself, There's none within.

(1) Nature.

(2) Environs of a forest.

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