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Or elfe by him my love deny,

And then I'll sudy how to die. Sil. Call you this chiding? Cel. Alas, poor thepherd ! 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 the love me, I charge her to love thee : if she. “ will not, I will never have her, unless thou intreat for her.” If you be a true lover, hence, and not a. word; for here comes more company.

[Exit Silvius.

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Enter Oliver,
Oli. Good-morrow, fair ones : pray you,

if you know Where, in the purlews of this forest, stands A sheep-cote fenc'd about with olive-trees? Cel. Weft of this place, down in the neighbour

The rank of ofiers, by the murmuring stream,
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,
Then should I know you by description,
Such garments, and such

years : the boy is fair,
“ Of female favour, and bestows himself
“ Like a ripe Sifter : but the woman low,
“ And browner than her brother.” Are not you:
The owner of the house, I did enquire for?

Cel. It is no boast, being ask'd, to say, we are.

Oli. Orlando doth commend him to you both,
And to that youth, he calls his Rojalind,
He sends this bloody napkin. Are you he ?

Rof. I am ; what must we understand by this ?
oli. Some of my Shame, if you will know of me

What :

What man I am, and how, and why, and where
This handkerchief was stain'd.

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 foreft, Chewing the food of sweet and bitter fancy, Lo, what befel ! he threw his eye aside, And mark what object did present itself. Under an oak, whose boughs were moss’d with age, And high top bald with dry antiquity; A wretched ragged man, o'ergrown with hair, Lay sleeping on his back; about his neck A green and gilded Inake bad wreath'd itself, Who with her head, nimble in threats, approach'd The opening of his mouth, but suddenly Seeing Orlando, it unlink'd itself, And with indented glides did flip away Into a bush ; under which bush's shade A Lionefs, withredders all drawn dry, Lay.couching head on ground, with cat-like watch When that the sleeping man should Itir, fortis The royal disposition of that beast To prey on nothing that doth seem as dead : This Teen, Orlando did approach the man, And found it was his brother. his eldelt brother. CCT. O, I have heard him speak of that Tame bro

And he did render him the most unnatural
That liv'd ’mongst men.

Oli. And well he might do fo;
For, well I know, he was unnatural.

Rof. But, to Orlando did he leave himn there, Food to the fuck'd and hungry lioness.

0!i. Twice did he turn his back, and purpos’d fo : But kindness, nobler ever than revenge, And nature Itronger than his just occasion, Made him gtve battle to the lioness, Who quickly fell before him ; in which hurtling From misera flumber I awak'd.

* We must read, witbit iwo bours,



Cel. Are you his brother?
Ref. Was it you he rescu'd ?
Cel. Was't you that did so oft contrive to kill him?

Oli. 'Twas I ; but 'tis not I; I do not shame
To tell


what I was, since my conversion So sweetly tastes, being the thing I am.

Rof. But, for the bloody napkin ?

Oli. By, and by
When from the first to last, betwixt us two,
Tears our recountments had most kindly bath'd,
As how I came into that desert place ;.
In brief, he led me to the gentle Duke,
me freth array

and entertainment,
Committing me unto my brother's love ;
Who led me instantly unto his cave,
There stripp'd himself, and here upon

The lionels had torn some flesh away,
Which all this while had bled ; and now he fainted,
And cry'd, in fainting, upon Rosalind.
Brief, I recover'd him ; bound up his wound;
And, after some small space, being strong at heart,
He sent me hither, stranger as I ain,
To tell this story, that you might excuse
His broken promise ; and to give this napkin,
Dy'd in his blood, unto the shepherd youth,
That he in sport doth call his kofalind.
Cel. Why, how now? Ganymed !-Sweet !

(Rosalind faints. Oli. Many will swoon, when they do look on blood. Cel. There is more in it :-cousin-Ganymed. * !. Oli. Look, he recovers. Ref. Would, I were at home! Cel. We'll lead you thither.

- I pray you, wiil you take him by the arm?

Oli. Be of good cheer, youth -- you a man?-you lack a man's heart.

Ref. I do so, I confess it. Ah, Sir, a body would

* Goulin-Ganymed!] Celia in her first fright forgets Rosalind's character and disguise, and calls out Cousin, then recoile&ts herself and says Ganymed.



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,

Rol Counterfeit, I assure you.

. Well then, take a good heart, and counterfeit to be a

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.

. I shall devise something. But I pray you, commend my counterfeiting to him.– Will you go?



S C Ε Ν Ε Ι.

The F O R E S T.

Enter Clown and Audrey.

W "Audrey.

E shall find a time, Audrey-patience, gentle

Audrey. Aud. Faith, the Priest was good enough, for all the old gentleman's saying.

Clo. A most wicked Sir Oliver, Audrey ; a most vile Mar-text-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. Cle. It is meat and drink to me to fee a Clown. By


you, friend?

my troth, we that have good wits, have much to answer for : we shall be flouting; we cannot hold.

Will. Good ev'n, Audrey. Aud. God give ye good ev’n, William. · Will. And good ev'n to you, Sir.

Clo. Good ev’n, gentle friend--Cover thy head, cover thy head ; nay, pr’ythee, be cover'd, -How old are:

Will. Five and twenty, Sir.
Clo. A ripe age : is thy name William ?
Will. William, Sir.
Clo. A fair name.

Wast born i'th' forest here:
Will. Ay, Sir ; I thank God.
Clo. Thank God - a good answer : art rich?
Will, Faith, Sir, so, To.

Clo. So, fo, is good, very good, very excellent good ; and

yet it is not; it is but fo so. Art thou wile? W'ill. Ay, Sir, I have a pretty wit.

Clo. Why thou say’ft 1: I do now remember a Saying ; the fool doth think he is wife, but the wise man knows himself to be a fool (6) The heathen philofopher, when he had a desire to eat a grape, would opea his lips when he put it into his mouth ; meaning thereby, that grapes were made to eat, and Tips to open. You do Tove this maid? Will. I do, Sir. Clo. Give me your hand: art thou learned ? Will No, Sir,

Clo. Then learn this of me ; to have, is to have. For it is a figure in rhetorick, that drink being poured out of a cup into a glass, by filling the one doth empe ty the other. For all your writers do consent, that ipfe is he: now you are not ipfe ; for I am he.

Will. Which he, Sir ?

Clo. He, Sir, that must marry this woman ; fore you, Clown, abandon-which is in the vulgar,


(6) The heathen philosopher, when he defired to eat a grape, &c.] This was designed as a ineer on the several trifling and insignificant sayings and actions, recorded of the ancient philosophers, by the writers of their lives, fuch as Diogenes Laertius, Pbilostratus, Exnapius, &c. as appears from its being introduced by one of their wise sayings.


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