« PředchozíPokračovat »
Ros. Well, in her person, I say, I will not have you. Orla. Then, in mine own person, I die.
Roj. No, faith, die by attorney. The poor world is almost fix thousand years old, and in all this time there was not any man died in his own person, videlicet, in a love cause. Troilus had his brains dash'd out with a Grecian club; yet he did what he could to die before ; and he is one of the patterns of love. Leander, he would have liv'd many a fair year, though Hero had turn'd nun, if it had not been for a hot midsummer night : for, good youth, he went but forth to wash him in the Hellespont, and, being taken with the cramp, was drown'd; and the foolish chroniclers of that age found it was,-Hero of Sestos. But these are all lyes; men have died from time to time, and worms have eaten them, but not for love.
Orla. I would not have my right Rosalind of this mind; for, I protest, her frown might kill me.
Ref. By this hand, it will not kill a fly: But come, now I will be
Rosalind in a more coming-on disposition; and ask me what you wil', I will granc
it. Orla. Then love me, Rosalind. Ros. Yes, faith will I, " fridays, and saturdays, and all. Orla. And wilt thou have me? Rof. Ay, and twenty such. Orla. What say'st thou ? Rof. Are you not good ? Orla. I hope fo.
Ros. Why then, can one desire too much of a good thing ?-Come, lister, you mall be the priest, and marry us.-Give me your hand, Orlando :-What do you say, lister?
Orla. Pray thee, marry us.
Rof. You must begin, Will you Orlando,
Cel. Go to :-Will you, Orlando, have to wife this Rosalind?
Orla. I will.
you must say,—I take thee Rosalind for wife. Orla. I take thee, Rosalind, for wife.
Ref. I might ask you for your commission ; but, I do take thee, Orlando, for my husband : There's a girl goes before the priest ; and, certainly, a woman's thought runs before her actions.
Orla. So do all thoughts ; they are wing’d.
Roj. Now tell me, how long would you have her, after you have poffefs'd her ?
Orla. For ever, and a day.
Rof. Say a day, without the ever : No, no, Orlando ; men are April when they woo, December when they wed: maids are May when they are maids, but the sky changes when they are wives. I will be more jealous of thee than a Barbary cock-pigeon over his hen ; more clamorous than a parrot against rain; more new-fangled than an ape ; more giddy in my desires than a monkey; I will weep for nothing, like Diana in the fountain, and I will do that when you are dispos’d to be merry; I will * laugh like a hyen, and that when thou art inclin'd to seep.
Orla. But will my Rosalind do so?
Rof. Or else she could not have the wit to do this : che wiser, the 'waywarder: Make the doors upon a woman's
Diana)-the figure of. * laugh like a byen,)-the bark of the hyena is said to resemble loud laughter. y waywarder :)-frowarder.
wit, and it will out at the casement; shut that, and 'will out at the key-hole; stop that, it will fly with the smoak out at the chimney.
Orla. A man that had a wife with such a wit, he might say,-Wit, wbither wilt? Rof
. Nay, you might keep that check for it, 'till you met your wife's wit going to your neighbour's bed.
Orla. And what wit could wit have to excuse that ?
. Marry, to say,-fhe came to seek you there. You thall never take her without her answer, unless you take her without her tongue. Othat woman that cannot ? make her fault her husband's occasion, let her never nurse her child herself, for she will breed it like a fool!
Orla. For these two hours, Rosalind, I will leave thee. Rof. Alas, dear love, I cannot lack thee two hours.
Orla. 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 :-chat flattering tongue of yours won me :-'tis but one cast away, and so,-come, death. -Two o'the clock is your hour ?
Orla. Ay, sweet Rosalind.
. 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.
? make ber fault her busband's occasion, 3-represent it as occafioned by him. • parhetical break-promije,)--the best counterfeit of a true passion. R3
LIKE IT. Orla. 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 o simply misus'd our fex in your loveprate : we must have your doublet and hose pluck'd over your head, and shew the world what the bird hath done to her own nest.
Ros. O coz, coz, coz, my pretty little coz, that thou didft know how many fathom deep I am in love! But it cannot be founded ; 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.
Roj. No, that same wicked bastard of Venus, that was begot of thought, conceiv'd 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 sight of Orlando : I'll go find a shadow, and sigh 'till he come.
Cel. And I'll Neep.
Enter Jaques, Lords, and Foresters.
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 ?
For. Yes, fir.
Jaq. Sing it : 'tis no matter how it be in tune, so ic make noise enough.
The rest shall
bear this burTo wear the born, the lusty born;
den. It was a crest ere thou wast born.
1. Thy father's father wore it ;
2. And thy fatber bore it :
Enter Rosalind, and Celia. Ros. How say you now? Is it not past two o'clock? and here's much Orlando !
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.
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,
Ay, and his father bore it. d and bere's much Orlando! ]-ironically here's no Orlando.