Ros. Do you pity him? 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 tame snake), and say this to her :-that if she loves 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, Where, in the purlieus of this forest, stands A sheepcote fenced about with olive-trees? if you know Cel. West of this place, down in the neighbour bottom; The rank of osiers by the murmuring stream, 2 Left on your right hand, brings you to the place. But at this hour the house doth keep itself: There's none within. Oli. If that an eye may profit by a tongue, The owner of the house I did inquire for? 1 Purlieu] Fr. pur, clear, and lieu, place: originally, free space, or common ground, on the borders of a forest. 2 Left] Being passed. If that an eye, &c.] If my eye can be taught by Orlando's tongue, then I should know you by the description he has given me. * Bestows himself, &c.] I apprehend the meaning here to be, that by stuffing out his bosom, he gives himself the appearance of a girl of ripe age. So, in 2 King Henry IV. ii. 2, 'See Falstaff bestow himself in his true colours.' Cel. It is no boast, being asked, to say we are. Ros. I am: what must we understand by this? Cel. I pray you, tell it. Oli. When last the young Orlando parted from you, He left a promise to return again Within an hour; and, pacing through the forest, A wretched ragged man, o'ergrown with hair, To prey on nothing that doth seem as dead: And found it was his brother, his elder brother. 1 Indented] Crooked; wriggling. 2 A lioness] See p. 53, note 1. Cel. O, I have heard him speak of that same brother; And he did render him the most unnatural That lived 'mongst men. Oli. And well he might so do, For well I know he was unnatural. Ros. But, to Orlando ;-did he leave him there, Food to the sucked and hungry lioness? Oli. Twice did he turn his back, and purposed so: But kindness, nobler ever than revenge, And nature, stronger than his just occasion, Made him give battle to the lioness, Who quickly fell before him; in which hurtling 2 Cel. Are you his brother? Ros. Was it you he rescued? Cel. Was't you that did so oft contrive to kill him? you what I was, since my conversion So sweetly tastes, being the thing I am. Ros. But for the bloody napkin? By and by.-3 Oli. Tears our recountments had most kindly bathed, Who gave me fresh Who led me instantly unto his cave, There stripped himself, and here upon his arm The lioness had torn some flesh away, Render him] Represent him to be. 2 Hurtling] Violent stirring.-So in Julius Cæsar, ii. 2, 'The noise of battle hurtled in the air.' 3 By and by] The old meaning of this expression is immediately. Which all this while had bled; and now he fainted, Brief, I recovered him; bound up his wound; To tell this story, that you might excuse I Cel. Why, how now, Ganymede? sweet Ganymede ! Ros. I would I were at home. Cel. We'll lead you thither. pray you, will you take him by the arm? Oli. Be of good cheer, youth.-You a man?—You lack a man's heart. Ros. I do so, I confess it. Ah, sir, a body would think this was well counterfeited. I pray you, tell your brother how well I counterfeited.—Heigh-ho! Oli. This was not counterfeit; there is too great testimony in your complexion that it was a passion of earnest. Ros. Counterfeit, I assure you. Oli. Well then, take a good heart and counterfeit to be a man. Ros. So I do: but, i' faith, I should have been a woman by right. Cel. Come, you look paler and paler; pray you, draw homewards. Good sir, go with us. Oli. That will I, for I must bear answer back How you excuse my brother, Rosalind. Ros. I shall devise something. But, I pray you, commend my counterfeiting to him.-Will you go? [Exeunt. ACT V. SCENE I.-The same. Enter TOUCHSTONE and AUDREY. Touch. We shall find a time, Audrey; patience, gentle Audrey. Aud. Faith, the priest was good enough, for all the old gentleman's saying. Touch. A most wicked Sir Oliver, Audrey, a most vile Martext. But, Audrey, there is a youth here in the forest lays claim to you. Aud. Ay, I know who 'tis; he hath no interest in me in the world. Here comes the man you mean. Enter WILLIAM. Touch. It is meat and drink to me to see a clown. By my troth, we that have good wits have much to answer for; we shall be flouting; we cannot hold. Will. Good even, Audrey. Aud. Good even, William. Will. And good even to you, sir. Touch. Good even, gentle friend. Cover thy head, cover thy head; nay, prithee, be covered. you, friend? Will. Five and twenty, sir. How old are Touch. A ripe age. Is thy name William? Will. William, sir. |