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SONG. 1. IVhat shall he have, that kill'd the dcer? 2. His leather skin, and horns to wear. 1. Then sing him home :
The rest shall Take thou no scorn, to wear the horn;
bear this burIt was a crest ere thou wast born.
den. 1. Thy father's father wore it ;
2. And thy father bore it : All. The horn, the horn, the lusty horn, Is not a thing to laugh at scorn. (
Enter Rosalind and CELIA.
Ros. How say you now? Is it not past two o'clock? And here 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,
[Giving a letter: I know not the contents ; but, as I guess, By the stern brow, and waspish action
9 The foregoing noisy scene was introduced only to fill up an interval, which is to represent two hours. This contraction of the time we might impute to poor Rosalind's impatience, but that a few minutes after we find Orlando sending his excuse. I do not see that by any probable division of the Acts this absurdity can be obviated. Johnson.
- and here much Orlando!] Much! was frequently used to indicate disdain.
Which she did use as she was writing of it,
Ros. Patience herself would startle at this letter,
Were man as rare as Phænix; Od's
Sil. No, I protest, I know not the contents;
Come, come, you are a fool,
she never did invent this letter: This is a man's invention, and his hand.
Sil. Sure, it is hers.
Ros. Why, 'tis a boisterous and 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 thy tyrant
Art thou god to shepherd turn'd, [Reads.
Can a woman rail thus?
Sil. Call you this railing?
Warr'st thou with a woman's heart?
Whiles the eye of man did woo me,
That could do no vengeance’ to me.-
If the scorn of your bright eyne
Sil. Call you this chiding?
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
vengeance - ) is used for mischief.
· I see, love hath made thee a tame snake,)] This term was, VOL. III.
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,
you know Where, in the purlieus of this forest,o stands A sheep-cote, fenc'd about with olive-trees? Cel. West of this place, down in the neighbour
bottom, The rank of osiers, 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 I should know you by description; Such garments, and such years: The boy is fair, of female favour, and bestows himself Like a ripe sister : but the woman low, And browner than her brother. Are not you The owner of the house I did inquire 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 Rosalind, He sends this bloody napkin ;' Are you
in our author's time, frequently used to express a poor contemptible fellow.
purlieus of this forest,] Purlieu, says Manwood's Treatise on the Forest Laws, c. xx. “ Is a certaine territorie of ground adjoyning unto the forest, meared and bounded with unmoveable marks, meeres, and boundaries : which territories of ground was also forest, and afterwards disaforested againe by the perambula. tions made for the severing of the new forest from the old."
REED. 1- napkin ;] i.e. handkerchief.
Ros. I am: What must we understand by this ?
Oli. Some of my shame; if you will know of me What man I am, and how, and why, and where This handkerchief was stain'd. Cel.
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, 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 snake had 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 slip away Into a bush: under which bush's shade A lioness, with udders all drawn dry, Lay couching, head on ground, with catlike watch, When that the sleeping man should stir; for 'tis The royal disposition of that beast, To
prey on nothing that doth seem as dead : This seen, Orlando did approach the man, And found it was his brother, his elder brother. Cel. O, I have heard him speak of that same
And well he might so do, For well I know he was unnatural.
8 And he did render him -] i. e. describe him.