before you came; for look here what I found on a palmtree: I was never so be-rhymed since Pythagoras' time, that I was an Irish rat,2 which I can hardly remember. Cel. Trow you who hath done this?

Ros. Is it a man?

Cel. And a chain that you once wore about his neck. Change you colour?

Ros. I prithee, who?

Cel. O Lord, Lord! it is a hard matter for friends to meet; but mountains may be removed with earthquakes, and so encounter.3

Ros. Nay, but who is it?

Cel. Is it possible?

Ros. Nay, I pray thee now with most petitionary vehemence, tell me who it is.

Cel. O wonderful, wonderful, and most wonderful wonderful, and yet again wonderful, and after that out of all whooping! 4

3

Ros. Good my complexion! dost thou think, though I am caparisoned like a man, I have a doublet and hose in

A palm-tree] Steevens says, A palm-tree in the forest of Arden is as much out of place as the lioness in a subsequent scene.' We willingly overlook many such inconsistencies in Shakspeare. But in the present instance the impropriety originated with Lodge, on whose story Shakspeare founded the present play.

2 An Irish rat] There was a tradition that rats were charmed to death in Ireland with certain rhymes. Pythagoras taught the doctrine of a transmigration of souls from one animal to another,

It is a hard matter for friends, &c.] This is an allusion to the old saying, Friends may meet, but mountains never greet.'

6

+ Whooping] Exclamation.

5 Good my complexion] An expression like Good my lord, Sweet my coz, &c., but here used in the way of exclamation. Rosalind means to compliment her complexion for having by its blushes shown her genuine nature as a woman.

my disposition? One inch of delay more is a South-sea of discovery. I prithee, tell me who is it? quickly, and speak apace: I would thou couldst stammer, that thou mightst pour this concealed man out of thy mouth, as wine comes out of a narrow-mouthed bottle,—either too much at once, or none at all. I prithee take the cork out of thy mouth, that I may drink thy tidings. What manner of man? Is his head worth a hat, or his chin worth a beard?

Cel. Nay, he hath but a little beard.

Ros. Why, Heaven will send more, if the man will be thankful let me stay the growth of his beard, if thou delay me not the knowledge of his chin.

Cel. It is young Orlando, that tripped up the wrestler's heels and your heart both in an instant.

Ros. Nay, but the devil take mocking; speak sad1 brow and true maid.

Cel. I' faith, coz, 'tis he.

Ros. Orlando ?

Cel. Orlando.

Ros. Alas the day! what shall I do with my doublet and hose?—What did he, when thou sawest him? What said he? How looked he? Wherein 2 went he? What makes he here? Did he ask for me? Where remains 3 he? How parted he with thee? and when shalt thou see him again? Answer me in one word.

Cel. You must borrow me Garagantua's mouth first: 'tis a word too great for any mouth of this age's size. Το

Sad] Sober, grave, serious.

2 Wherein] This has been supposed to mean in what dress; but surely it is used for whereinto.

3 Remains] Dwells.

• Garagantua] A giant who figures in the pages of Rabelais. He swallowed five pilgrims, with their staves and all, in a salad.

say ay and no to these particulars, is more than to answer in a catechism.

Ros. But doth he know that I am in this forest, and in man's apparel? Looks he as freshly as he did the day he wrestled?

Cel. It is as easy to count atomies, as to resolve the propositions of a lover:—but take a taste of my finding him, and relish it with a good observance. I found him under a tree, like a dropped acorn.

Ros. It may well be called Jove's tree, when it drops forth such fruit.

Cel. Give me audience, good madam.

Ros. Proceed.

Cel. There lay he, stretched along, like a wounded knight.

Ros. Though it be pity to see such a sight, it well becomes the ground.

Cel. Cry holla! to thy tongue, I prithee; it curvets very unseasonably. He was furnished like a hunter.

Ros. O ominous! he comes to kill my heart.2

Cel. I would sing my song without a burden: 3 thou bringest me out of tune.

Ros. Do you not know I am a woman? when I think, I must speak. Sweet, say on.

Cel. You bring me out.- -Soft! comes he not here?
Ros. 'Tis he; slink by, and note him.

[CELIA and ROSALIND retire.

1 Holla!] The word with which a rider called to his horse to stop. Our dramatist in his Venus and Adonis, 48, says—

'What recketh he his rider's angry stir,

His flattering Holla! or his Stand, I say.

2 Heart] A punning allusion to a hart.

3 Burden] The refrain, or reiterated part of a song.

Enter ORLANDO and JAQUES.

Jaq. I thank you for your company; but, good faith, I had as lief have been1 myself alone.

Orl. And so had I; but yet for fashion sake I thank you too for your society.

Jag. God be wi' you; let's meet as little as we can.
Orl. I do desire we may be better strangers.

Jaq. I pray you, mar no more trees with writing lovesongs in their barks.

· Orl. I pray you, mar no more of my verses with reading them ill-favouredly.

Jaq. Rosalind is your love's name?

Orl. Yes, just.

Jaq. I do not like her name.

Orl. There was no thought of pleasing you when she was christened.

Jaq. What stature is she of?

Orl. Just as high as my heart.

Jaq. You are full of pretty answers: have you not been acquainted with goldsmiths' wives, and conned them out of rings ? 2

Orl. Not so; but I answer you right painted cloth,3 from whence you have studied your questions.

Jaq. You have a nimble wit; I think it was made of Atalanta's heels. Will you sit down with me? and we two will rail against our mistress the world, and all our misery.

1 I had as lief have been] The verb have is a grammatical redundancy. There is worse redundancy in Othello, iii, 3, ‘Thou hadst been better have been born a dog.'

2 Conned them out of rings] An allusion to the posies or mottoes engraved on rings.

3 Right painted cloth] This is an allusion to the loose painted cloths hung like tapestry against the walls of apartments, and frequeatly inscribed with mottoes and maxims.

Orl. I will chide no breather in the world but myself, against whom I know most faults.

Jaq. The worst fault you have is to be in love.

Orl. 'Tis a fault I will not change for your best virtue. I am weary of you.

Jaq. By my troth, I was seeking for a fool when I found you.

Orl. He is drowned in the brook; look but in and shall see him.

Jaq. There shall I see mine own figure.

Orl. Which I take to be either a fool or a cipher.

you

Jaq. I'll tarry no longer with you: farewell, good Signior Love.

Orl. I am glad of your departure; adieu, good Monsieur Melancholy.

[Exit JAQUES.-CELIA and ROSALIND come forward. Ros. I will speak to him like a saucy lacquey, and under that habit play the knave with him.-Do you hear, forester? Orl. Very well; what would you?

Ros. I pray you, what is't o'clock ?

Orl. You should ask me what time o'day; there's no clock in the forest.

Ros. Then there is no true lover in the forest; else sighing every minute, and groaning every hour, would detect the lazy foot of time as well as a clock.

Orl. And why not the swift foot of time? had not that been as proper?

Ros. By no means, sir. Time travels in divers paces with divers persons: I'll tell you who time ambles withal, who time trots withal, who time gallops withal, and who he stands still withal.

Orl. I prithee, who doth he trot withal?

1 Sighing every minute, &c.] So, in Richard II. v. 5, Sighs, tears, and groans show minutes, times, and hours.'