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thought no less :—that flattering tongue of yours won me :—'t is but one cast away, and so,-come, death.Two o'clock is your hour ?
Ori. 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.
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 ORL.
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.
Ros. O coz, coz, coz, my pretty little coz, that thou didst know how many fathom deep I am 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 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 come. Cel. And I 'll sleep.
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; it is no matter how it be in tune, so it make noise enough.
Take thou no scorn, to wear the horn ;
1. Thy father's father wore it ;
2. And thy father bore it; All.
The horn, the horn, the lusty horn,
SCENE III.--The Forest.
Enter RosALIND and CELIA. Ros. How say you now? Is it not past two o'clock ! and here much Orlando! a
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.
[Giving a letter. & Much Orlando-ironically, a great deal of Orlando.
I know not the contents; but, as I guess,
Ros. Patience herself would startle at this letter,
Sil. No, I protest, I know not the contents;
Come, come, you are a fool,
Sil. Sure, it is hers.
Ros. Why, 't is 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.
6 Art thou god to shepherd turn'd, [Reads.
That a maiden's heart hath burn'd?". Can a woman rail thus ?
Sil. Call you this railing ?
Ros. Why, thy gouhead laid apart,
Warr'st ihou with a woman's heart?" Did you ever hear such railing ?
“ Whiles the eye of man did woo me,
That could do no vengeauce to me." Meaning me a beast.
“ If the scorn of your bright eyne
Have power to raise such love in mine,
And then I 'll stridy how to die."
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 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 sheep-cote, fenc'd about with olive-trees ? & Vengeance-mischief. b Kind-kindly affections,
• Make--make up.
Cel. West of this place, down in the neighbour
Oli. If that an eye may profit by a tongue,
Cel. It is no boast, being ask'd, to say, we are.
Oli. Orlando doth commend him to you both;
Ros. I am: what must we understand by this?
pray you, tell it. Oli. When last the young Orlando parted from
a Left on your right hand-being, as you pass, left.