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Orla. I will chide no breather in the world but myfelf, against whom I know moit fauts.
Faq. The worst fault you have, is to be in love. Orla. '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
Orla. He is drown'd in the brooki look but in, and you
Thall see him. Jaq. There I shall see mine own figure.... Orla. Which I take to be either a fool, or, a cypher. Jaq. I’H ftay no longer.- with you ;- farewell,..good Signior love!
Orla. I am glad of your departure ; adieu, good Monsieur melancholy ! (Cel. and Ros. come forward.
Rof. I will speak to him like a fawcy lacquey, and under that habit play the knave with him. hear, forester?
Orla. Very well ; what would you?
Orla. You should alk me, what time o'day; there's no clock in the Forest.
Ref. Then there is po true lover in the Forest; else, fighing every minute, and groaning every hour, would detect the lazy foot of time, as well as a clock.
Orla. And why not the swift foot of time ? had not that been as proper ?,
-Roj. By no means, Sir: time travels in divers paces, with civers perfons ; I'll tell you whom time ambles withat, whom time . trots withal, whom time gallops withal, and whom he stands ftill withad.
Orla. I pr’ythee, whom doch he trot withal ?
Ros. Marry, he trots hard with a young maid, between the contract of her marriage, and the day it is folemniz'd: if the interim be but a se'nnight, time's pace is to hard that it seems the length of seven years. Orla. Who ambles time withal ?
Rof. With a priest that lacks Latin, and a rich man that hath not the gout; for the one leeps easily bez
cause he cannot ftudy; and the other lives merrily, because he feels no pain, the one lacking the burden of lean and wasteful learning; the other knowing no burden of heavy tedious penury. These time ainbles withal
Orla. Whom doth he gallop withal ?
Ros. With a thief to the gallows : for though he go as softly as foot can fall, he thinks himself too soon there. Orla. Whom stays it still withal ?
Rof. With lawyers in the vacation ; for they sleep between..term_and term, and then they perceive not how time moves
Orla. Where dwell you, pretty youth? Rof. With this fhepherdess, my lifter ; here in the skirts of the forest, like fringe upon a petticoat.
Orla. Are you native of this place?
Rol. As the cony, that you fee dwell where the is: kindled.
Orla. Your accent is something finer, than you could purchase in so removed a dwelling.
Ros. I have been told so of many; but, indeed, an old religious Uncle of mine taught me to speak, who was in his youth an * in-land man, one that knew courtthip too well : for there he fell in love. I have heard him read many lectures against it; I thank God, I am not a woman, to be touchd with to many giddy offences as he hath generally tax'd their whole sex withal.
Orla. Can you remember any of the principal evils; that he laid to the charge of women ?
Rof. There were none principal. they were all like one another, as half-pence are ; every one fault seeming monstrous, till his fellow. fault came to match it:
Orla. I pr’ythee, ręcount some of them.
Rof. No ; I will not cait away my phyfick, but on those that are fick. There is a man haunts the Forest, that abuses our young Plants with Carving Rosalind on their barks ; hangs Odes upon hawthorns, and Elegies
* -inland mon,] Is used.in this play for one civilised, in opposition to the rupick of the priest. So Orlando before we am I inland' fred, and know some nurturba.
- revenue ;
on brambles ; all, forsooth deifying the name of Rofalind. If I could meet that fancy-monger, I would give him fome good counfel, for he feems to have the Quotidian of love
upon him: Orla. I am he, that-is-so love-thak'd ; I pray you céll me your remedy:
Rof. There is none of my uncle's marks upon you, he taught me how to know a man in love ; in which cage of rushes, I am fure, you are not prisoner.
Orla. What were his marks ?
have not '; a blue eye and funken, which you have not ; an unquestionable fpirit to), which you have not, a beard neglected, which you have not ; but I pardon you for that, for limply your Having in beard is a younger Brother's
hose Thould be ungarter'd, your bonnet unbanded, your fleeve unbuttond, your shoe untied, and every thing about you demonftrating a carelels delolation. But you are no luch man, you are Father point-de-vice in your accoutrements, as loving yourfelf, Ihan seeming the Tover of any other.
Orla. Fair youth, I would I could make thee believe I love.
Rof. Me believe it? you may as soon make her, that you love believe it, which I warrant, The is apter to do, than to confess the does ; that is one of the points, in the which women still give the Tye to their con sciences. But, in good Tooth, are you he that hangs the Verses on the trees, wherein Rosalind is fo admired?
Orla. I swear to thee, youth, by the white hand of Rosalind, I am That he, that unfortunate he.
Rof. But are you so much in love, as your rhimes speak?
(8) an unquestionable spirit,] May it not mean unwilling to be conversed with ?
Mr. CHAMIER. -on unqu«ftionable spirit,] That is, a fpirit not inquisitive, a mind indifferent to common objects, and negligent of common occur
Here Shakespeare has used a paflive an active mode of speech : so in a former scene, The Duke is too disputable for me, that is, too disputatious.
Orla. Neither rhime nor reason can express how, much.
Ros - Love is merely a madness, and, I tell you deferves as well a dark house and a whip, as mad men do and the reason why they are not to punilhed and cured, is, that the lunacy is so ordinary, that the whippers are in love too : yet I profess curing it by countet.
Orla. Did you ever cure any so?
He was to imagine-me his love, -his mistress , and I set him every day to wooe me: At-which time would I, being but
a 'moonilh-youth; grieve, be effeminate, changeable, longing, and liking ; proud, fantastical, apish, fhallow, -inconstant, full of tears, full of smiles for every paffion something, and for no paflion truly any thing, as boys and women are for the most part cattle of this fcolour ; would now like...him,. now loạth him ; then entertain him, then forswear him.;.„now weep for him,
then spit at him ; that I drave my fuitor from his mad humour of love, to a living.hunour of..madness (9). which was, to forswear the full stream of the world, and to live in a nook meerly monastick and thus I cur’d him, and this way will»I take upon me .to
wath your liver-as.clear. as a found sheep's heart, that there: thah-not be one spot of love in't. - Orla. I would not be cur'd, youth.
Rof: I would cure you if you would but call me Rosalind, and come every day to my cote, and wooe me.
Orla. Now, by the faith of my love, I will. Tell me where it is.
Ros. Go with me to it, and I will fhew it you ; and,
-10 a living humour of mailnefs ;] If this be the true reding we must by living understand lafting, or permanent, but I cannot forbear to think that lome antithels was intended which is now Joft ; perhaps the passage stood thus, I drove my suitor froin a dying humbur of love to a living humour of madness. Or rather thus, from a mad humour of love to a loving humour of madness, that is, from a madness that was love, to a love that was mainefs. This seems somewbat harsh and strained, but such modes of speech are not 12usual in our poet ; and this harihness was probably the cause of the corrupliop..
by the way, you shall tell me where in the Forest you live.' Will
you go? Orla. With all my heart, good youth. Ros. Nay, nay, you must call me Rosalind - Come, fifter will you go?
Enter Clown, Audrey and Jaques watching them.
Clo. Come apace, good Audrey, I will fetch up your goats, Audrey ; and now, Audrey, am I the man yet ? doth my.. simple feature content you ........
Aud' Your features, Lord warrant us! what features ?
Clo. I am here with thee and thy goats, as the most capricious poet honest Ovid was among the Goths.
Jag [apide] O knowledge ill-inhabited, worse than Fove in a thatch'd house !
Clo. When a man's verses cannot be understood, nor a man's good Wit seconded with the forward child, Understanding; it strikes a man more dead than a great reckoning in a little room(o); truly, I would the Gods had made thee poetical.
Aud. I do not know what poetical is; is it honest in deed and word ? is it a true thing?
(1) it strikes a man more dead than a great reckoning in a little room :] Nothing was ever wrote in higher humour than this fimile. A great reckoning, in a little room, implies that the entertajoment was mean, and the bill extravagant. The poet here alluded to the French proverbial phrase of ihe quarter of hour of Rabelais: who faid, there was only one quarter of hour in human life passed ill, and ibat was between the calling for the reckoning and paying it. Yet the delicacy of our Oxford Editor wou'd correct ihis into, it frikes a man more dead than a great reeking in a litele room This is amending with a vengeance, Whea men are joking together in a merry humour; all are disposed to laugh. One of the company says a good thing; the jest is not taken ; all are filent, and he who said it quite confounded. This is compared to a tavern jollity interrupted by the coming in of a great reckoning. Had not Shakespeare reason now in this case to apply his Gimile, to bis own case, against his critical editor Who, 'tis plain, taking the phrase to frike dead in a literal sense, concluded, from his knowledge in philosophy, that it could not be so effe ctually done by a reckoning as by a recking.,