I love him not nor hate him not; and yet I have more cause to hate him than to love him: He said mine eyes were black and my hair And, now I am remember'd, scorn'd at me: 130 But that's all one; omittance is no quittance. I'll write to him a very taunting letter, And thou shalt bear it: wilt thou, Silvius? Sil. Phebe, with all my heart. Phe. I'll write it straight; [Exeunt. ACT FOURTH SCENE I The forest. Enter Rosalind, Celia, and Jaques. Jaq. I prithee, pretty youth, let me be better Ros. They say you are a melancholy fellow. abominable fellows, and betray themselves 10 which is emulation; nor the musician's, which which my often rumination wraps me in a most humorous sadness. Ros. A traveler! By my great reason to be sad: faith, you have sold your own lands to see other men's; then, Jaq. Yes, I have gained my experience. Enter Orlando. Orl. Good-day and happiness, dear Rosalind! Jaq. Nay, then, God buy you, an you talk in blank verse. [Exit. Ros. Farewell, Monsieur Traveler: 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 that countenance you are; or I 40 will scarce think you have swom 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. Orl. My fair Rosalind, I come within an hour of my promise. 41. "swom in a gondola”; that is, been at Venice, then the resort of all travelers, as Paris now. Shakespeare's contemporaries also point their shafts at the corruption of our youth by travel. Bishop Hall wrote his little book Quo Vadis? to stem the fashion.-H. N. H. Ros. Break an hour's promise in love! He that will divide a minute into a thousand parts, Orl. Pardon me, dear Rosalind. Ros. Nay, an you be so tardy, come no more in my sight: I had as lief be wooed of a snail. Orl. Of a snail? Ros. Aye, of a snail; for though he comes slowly, he carries his house on his head; a 60 better jointure, I think, than you make a woman: besides, he brings his destiny with him. Orl. What's that? Ros. Why, horns, which such as you are fain to be beholding to your wives for: but he comes armed in his fortunes and prevents the slander of his wife. Orl. Virtue is no horn-maker; and my Rosalind is virtuous. Ros. And I am your Rosalind. Cel. It pleases him to call you so; but he hath a Ros. Come, woo me, woo me; for now I am in a Orl. I would kiss before I spoke. Ros. Nay, you were better speak first; and XVIII-7 97 70 when you were graveled for lack of matter, 80 Orl. How if the kiss be denied? Ros. Then she puts you to entreaty and there begins new matter. Orl. Who could be out, being before his beloved mistress? Ros. Marry, that should you, if I were your 90 mistress, or I should think my honesty ranker than my wit. Orl. What, of my suit? Ros. Not out of your apparel, and yet out of your suit. Am not I your Rosalind? Orl. 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. Orl. Then in mine own person I die. 100 92. "ranker"; greater. If she did not discomfit Orlando, her wit must be less than her virtue.-C. H. H. 101. "by attorney"; by proxy.—C. H. H. |