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when you are disposed to be merry; I will laugh like a hyen,' and that when thou art inclined to sleep.

Orl. But will my Rosalind do so ?
Ros. By my life, she will do as I do.
Orl. O, but she is wise.

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 keyhole; 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 ? 3

Ros. Nay, you might keep that check for it, till you met 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.

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, 4 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?

A hyen] Some hyenas were called, from their peculiar grin, laughing hyenas.

2 Make the doors] That is, make fast, or bar.–So, in the Comedy of Errors, iii. 1, 'The doors are made against you.'

s Wit, whither wilt] See p. 11, note 2. * Her husband's occasion] A thing of her husband's occasioning.

Orl. Ay, sweet Rosalind.

Ros. By my troth, and in good earnest, and so, 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 1 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.

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 ! [Exit ORLANDO.

Cel. You have simply misused 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.2

Ros. O coz, coz, coz, my pretty little coz, that thou didst know how many fathom deep I ani 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, conceived of spleen, and born of madness; that blind rascally boy, that abuses every

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,3 and sigh till he come. Cel. And I'll sleep.

[Exeunt. Pathetical] Pitiful. 2 To her own nest] Lodge makes Aliena say—I pray you, if your robes were off, what metal are you made of, that you are so satirical against women ? Is it not a foul bird defiles her own nest?'

3 Shadow] Shaded spot.

one's eyes,

1

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.

SONG.

What shall he have that killed the deer?
His leather skin and horns to wear.
Take thou no scorn to wear the horn ; ( Then sing him home :
It was a crest ere thou wast born. the rest shall bear

Thy father's father wore it ; this burden.

And thy father bore it :
The horn, the horn, the lusty horn,
Is not a thing to laugh to scorn.

[Exeunt.

SCENE III.—Another part of the Forest.

Enter ROSALIND and CELIA.

Ros. How say you now? Is it not past two o'clock ? And here-much, Orlando ! 2

Cel. I warrant you, with pure love and troubled brain,

· Present him] That is, him that killed the deer.

2 Heremuch, Orlando] To be here is too much trouble for you, Orlando. To think anything much, was a common expression for to think it a trouble.

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 tenour: 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. Ods 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.

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

Come, come, you are a fool,
And turned into the extremity of love.
I saw her hand : she has a leathern hand,
A freestone-coloured 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 a cruel style, A style for challengers; why, she defies me, Like Turk to Christian : woman'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 turned,

[Reads. That a maiden's heart hath burned ?Can a woman rail thus ?

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

Warrist 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 a beast.

If the scorn of your bright eyne
Have power to raise such love in mine,
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 kinds
Will the faithful 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 !

In mild aspect] If they were to assume a mild aspect. ? By him seal up, &c.] Send by him a sealed letter to let me know your

mind. 3 Kind] Nature.-Phebe was uncertain whether Rosalind was human or divine.

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