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But—P Wind away,

Begone, I say,

I will not to wedding with thee to-day. Sir Oli. 'Tis no matter ; ne'er a fantastical knave of them all shall flout me out of my calling. [Exeunt.

S CE N E IV.
A Cottage in the Forest.

Enter Rosalind and Celia. Roj. Never talk to me, I will weep.

Cel. Do, I pr’ythee; but yet have the grace to consider," that tears do not become a man. Ref. But have I not cause to weep? Cel. As good cause as one would desire; therefore weep. Ref. His very hair is of the dissembling colour.

Cel. Something browner than o Judas's: marry, his kisses are Judas's own children. I

Rof. l'faith, his hair is of a good colour.

Cel. An excellent colour : your chesnut was ever the only colour.

Res. And his kissing is as full of sanctity as the touch of 'holy beard.

Cel. He hath bought a pair of cast lips of Diana: a nun of 'winter's sisterhood kisses not more religiously; the very ice of chastity is in them.

Rof. But why did he swear he would come this morning, and comes not?

Cel. Nay certainly, there is no truth in him.
Rof. Do you think so?
P Wend-go.

9 Judas's :)—which was red,
'bely beard. ]-of a saint, or hermit.
winter's fifterhood ]-devoted to chastity.

Cel.

Cel. Yes: I think he is not a pick-purse, nor a horsestealer ; but for his verity in love, I do think him as concave as a cover'd goblet, or a worm-eaten nut.

Ref. Not true in love?
Cel. Yes, when he is in; but, I think, he is not in.
Rof. You have heard him iwear downright, he was.

Cel. Was, is not is: besides, the oath of a lover is no stronger than the word of a tapster; they are both the confirmers of false reckonings : He attends here in the forest on the duke your father.

Rof. I met the duke yesterday, and had much question with him : He asked me, of what parentage I was ; I told him, of as good as he ; so he laugh’d, and let me go. But what talk we of fathers, when there is such a man as Orlando?

Cel. O, that's a brave man! he writes brave verses, speaks brave words, swears brave oaths, and breaks them bravely, "quite traverse, athwart the heart of his lover ; as a puny tilter, that spurs his horse but on one side, breaks his staff like a noble goose: but all's brave, that youth mounts, and folly guides :—Who comes here?

Enter Corin.
Cor. Mistress, and master, you have oft enquired
After the shepherd that complain'd of love;
Whom you saw ficting by me on the turf,
Praising the proud disdainful shepherdess
That was his mistress.

Cel. Well, and what of him?

Cor. If you will see a pageant truly play'd, Between the pale complexion of true love

ve

CC

ia brave man!]-a fashionable gallant.

quite traverse,]-it was a disgrace to have a lance broken across. w noje-quilla with a quill stuck through the nose.

And

And the red glow of scorn and proud disdain,
Go hence a little, and I shall conduct you,
If you will mark it.

Rof. O, come, let us remove;
The light of lovers feedeth those in love :-
Bring us but to this fight, and you shall fay
I'll prove a busy actor in their play.

(Exeunt.

S CE NE V.
Another Part of the Forest.

Enter Silvius, and Pbebe.
Sil. Sweet Phebe, do not scorn me; do not, Phebe:
Say, that you love me not; but say not so
In bitterness: The common executioner,
Whose heart the accustom'd sight of death makes hard,
'Falls not the axe upon the humbled neck,
But first begs pardon; Will you sterner be
Than he that ' dies and lives by bloody drops ?

Enter Rosalind, Celia, and Corin. Pbe. I would not be thy executioner ; I Ay thee, for I would not injure thee. Thou tell’st me, there is murder in mine eye ; 'Tis pretty, sure, and very probable, That eyes,—that are the frail'st and softest things, Who shut their coward gates on atomies, Should be call'd tyrants, butchers, murderers ! Now do I frown on thee with all my heart ; And, if mine eyes can wound, now let them kill thee : Now counterfeit to fwoon ; why now fall down ;

* Falls not)-Does not let fall.

dies and lives)—is all his life conversant with

2 for]–because.

Or,

Or, if thou can'st not, oh, for shame, for shame,
Lye not, to say mine eyes are murderers.
Now shew the wound mine eyes have made in thee:
Scratch thee but with a pin, and there remains
Some scar of it; lean but upon a rush,
The cicatrice and capable impressure
Thy palm some moment keeps : but now mine eyes,
Which I have darted at thee, hurt thee not;
Nor, I am sure, there is no force in eyes
That can do hurt.

Sil. O dear Phebe,
If ever (as that ever may be near)
You meet in some fresh cheek the power 6 of fancy,
Then shall you know the wounds invisible
That love's keen arrows make.

Pbe. But, 'till that time, .
Come not thou near me: and, when that time comes,
Afflict me with thy mocks, pity me not;
As, 'till that time, I shall not pity thee.
Rof. And why, I pray you? -- Who might be your

mother, That you insult, exult, and all at once, Over the wretched ? What though you have no beauty, (As, by my faith, I see no more in you Than without candle may go dark to bed) Must you be therefore proud and pitiless ? Why, what means this? Why do you look on me? I see no more in you, than in the ordinary Of nature's sale-work :- Od's, my little life!

capable impresure]-hollow mark, dint.

of fancy,]-of pleasing. c Who might be your mother, ]-What tigress nursed thee? d and all at once, ]-at the same instant, all in a breath.

e in the ordinary of nature's fale-work :]-common course of nature's productions.

Od's,]-God save.

I think,

I think, the means to tangle mine eyes too:-
No, 'faich proud mistress, hope not after it;" .. .
'Tis not your inky brows, your black-filk hair,
Your bugle eye-balls, nor your cheek of cream,

e can entame my spirits to your worship.-
You foolish shepherd, wherefore do you follow her
Like foggy south, puffing with wind and rain ?
You are a thousand times a properer man, di
Than fhe a woman: 'Tis such fools as you, .
That make the world full of ill-favour'd children:
'Tis not her glass, but you, that flatters her;
And out of you she sees herself more proper,
Than any of her lineaments can show her.
But, mistress, know yourself; down on your knees,..
And thank heaven, fasting, for a good man's love ::..
For I must tell you friendly in your ear,-
Sell when you can ; you are not for all markets :
Cry the man mercy; love him ; take his offer ;

Foul is most foul, being foul to be a scoffer.
So, take her to thee, shepherd ;--fare you well.'.

Pbe. Sweet youth, I pray you chide a year together ; I had rather hear you chide, than this man woo.

Ref. He's fallen in love with her foulness, and she'll fall in love with my anger :-If it be so, as fast as she answers thee with frowning looks, I'll sauce her with bitter words.-- Why look you so upon me?

Pbe. For no ill will I bear you.

Rof. I pray you, do not fall in love with me,
For I am falser than vows made in wine :
Besides, I like you not: If you will know my house,
'Tis at the tuft of olives, here hard by :-

& Foul is moff foul, being foul to be a scoffer.]-For an ill-favoured person to ridicule the defects of others adds deformity to native home. liness, to foulness, fhrewishness.

Will

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