Orla. But will my Rosalind do fo?
Rof. By my life, she will do as I do.
Orla. O, but she is wife.

Rof. Or elfe fhe could not have the wit to do this the wiser the waywarder make the doors fat upon a woman's wit, and it will out at the cafement; hut that, and 'twill out at the key-hole; ftop that, it will fly with the Imoak out at the chimney,

Orla. A man that had a wife with fuch a wit, he might fay, Wit, whither wilt (7) ?

Rof. Nay, you might keep that check for it, 'till you meet your wife's wit going to your neighbour's bed.

Orla. And what wit could wit have to excufe that? Rof. Marry, to say she came to seek you there. You fhall never take her without her anfwer, unless you take her without her tongue. O that woman, that cannot make her fault her husband's occafion (8), let her never nurfe her child herfelf, for the will breed it like a fool!

Orla. For thefe two hours, Rofalind, 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.

Rof. Ay, go your ways, go your ways-I knew what you would prove, my friends told me as much, and I thought no lefs that flattering tongue of yourswon me-- -'tis but one caft away, and fo come death two o'th' clock is your hour!

Orla. Ay, fweet Rofalind.

Rof. By my troth, and in good earneft, and fo God mend me, and by all pretty oaths that are not dangerous, if you break one jot of your promife, or come one minute behind your hour, I will think you the

(7) -Wit, whither wil ?] This must be fome allufion to a ftory well known at that time, though now perhaps irretrievable. (8) make ber fault, her husband's occafion,] That is, reprefent her fault as occafioned by her husband. Sir T. Hanmer reads, ber Lubend's accufation.

most pathethical break-promise (9), and the most hollow lover, and the moft unworthy of her you call Rofalind, that may be chofen out of the grofs band of the unfaithful; therefore beware my cenfure, and keep your promife.

Orla. With no less religion, than if thou wert indeed my Rofalind; so adieu.

Rof. Well, time is the old Juftice that examines all fuch offenders, and let time try. Adieu! [Exit Orla.

Cel. You have fimply mifus'd our fex in your loveprate: we must have your doublet and hose pluck'd over your head, and fhew the world what the bird hath done to her own neft.

Rof. O coz, coz, coz, my pretty little coz, didft know how many fathom deep I am in it cannot be founded: my affection hath an bottom, like the Bay of Portugal.

that thou love; but unknown

Cel Or rather, bottomlefs, that as fast as you pour affection in, it runs out.

Rof. No, that fame wicked baftard of Venus, that was begot of thought, conceiv'd of spleen, and born of madnefs, that blind rafcally boy, that abufes every one's eyes, becaufe 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 fight of Orlando; I'll go find a fhadow, and figh 'till he come.

Cel And I'll fleep.

SCENE V.

Enter Jaques, Lords, and Forefters Jaq. Which is he that kill'd the deer?

[Exeunt.

(9) I will think you the most PATHETICAL break-promije,] There is neither fenfe nor humour in this expreffion. We fhould certainly read, ATHEISTICAL break-promife. His answer confirms it, that he would keep his promife with no lefs religion WARBURTON. I do not fee but that parbetical may ftand, which feems to afford as much fenfe and as much humour as atheistical.

than

Lord.

Lord. Sir, it was I.

Jag Let's prefent him to the Duke, like a Roman Conqueror; and it would do well to fet the deer's horns upon his head, for a branch of Victory; have o u no Song, Forefter, for this purpose ?

For. Yes, Sir.

Faq. Sing it; 'tis no matter how it be in tune, fo it make noise enough.

Mufick, Song.

What shall be have that kill'd the deer?

His leather fkin and horns to wear;

Then fing him home: take thou no Scorn (3) The reft

-

To wear the horn, the horn, the born :
It was a creft, ere thou waft born.
Thy father's father wore it,

And thy father bore it,

The born, the born, the lufty born,
Is not a thing to laugh to scorn.

(3) In former Editions:

す

fhall bear this Burden.

[Exeunt.

Then fing bim bome, the reft fhall bear this burden.] This is no admirable inftance of the fagacity of our preceding Editors, to fay nothing wofe. One fhould expect, when they were Poets, they would at least have taken care of the Rhimes, and not foifted in what has nothing to answer it. Now where is the Rhime to, the reft fhail bear this Burden? Or to ask another Question, where is the Senfe of it? Does the Poet mean, that He, that kill'd the Deer, fhall be fung home, and the reft fhall bear the Deer on their Backs? This is laying a Burden on the Poet, that we muft help him to throw off. In fhort, the Myftery of the Whole is, that a Marginal Note is wifely thrust into the Text: the Song being defign'd to be fung by a fingle Voice and the Stanza's to close with a Burden to be fung by the whole Company. THEOBALD.

This note I have given as a fpecimen of Mr. Theobald's jocularity, and of the eloquence with which he recommends his emendations,

SCENE

Ref. How fay you now, is it not paft two o'clock ? I wonder much, Orlando is not here.

Cel. I warrant you with pure love and troubled brain, he hath ta'en his bow and arrows, and is gone forth to fleep 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 ftern brow, and waspish action

Which the did ufe as fhe was writing of it,
It bears an angry tenour.
Pardon me,

I am but as a guiltlefs meffenger.

Rof. [reading.] Patience herfelf would ftartle at this letter,

And play the fwaggerer-bear this, bear all

She fays, I am not fair; that I lack manners;
She calls me proud, and that she could not love me
Were man as rare as Phoenix. 'Odds my will!
Her love is not the hare that I do hunt.

Why writes the fo to me? Well, fhepherd, well,
This is a letter of your own device.

Sil. No, I proteft, I know not the contents;
Phebe did write it.

Rof. Come, come, you're a fool,

And turn'd into th' extremity of love.

I faw her hand, the has a leathern hand,

A free-tone colour'd hand ; I verily did think,
That her old gloves were on, but 'twas her hands;
She has a hufwife's hand, but that's no matter-
I fay, he never did invent this letter-

() The foregoing noify scene was introduced only to fill up an interval, which is to reprefent two hours. This contraction of the time we might impute to poor Rofalind's impatience, but that a few minutes after we find Orlando fending his excufe. I do not fee that by any probab.e divifion of the acts this abfurdity can be obviated.

This is a man's invention, and his hand.

Sil. Sure, it is hers.

Rof. Why, 'tis a boisterous and a cruel ftile, A ftile for challengers; why, fhe defies me, Like Turk to Christian; woman's gentle brain Could not drop forth fuch 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.

Rof. She Phebe's me mark, how the tyrant writes..

[Reads.] Art thou God to hepherd turn'd,

That a maiden's heart hath burn'd.

Can a woman rail thus ?

Sil. Call you this railing?

Ref. [Reads] Why thy Godhead laid apart,
Warr'ft thou with a woman's heart?

Did you ever hear such railing?

Whiles the eye of man did woo me,
That could do no vengeance * to me.

Meaning me a beast.

If the corn of your bright eyne
Have power to raise fuch love in mine,
Alack, in me, what strange effect
Would they work in mild aspect?

Whiles chid
you

me,

I did love;

How then might your prayers move?

He, that brings this love to thee,
Little knows this love in me;
And by him feal up thy mind,

Whether that thy Youth and Kind (5)

Will the faithful offer take

Of me, and all that I can make ;

*Vengeance is used for a mifcbief.

(5) Youth and Kind-] Kind is the old word for nature.