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Ros. Peace, you dull fool; I fourd them on

wicked; and wickedness is sin, and sin is dam
nation: Thou art in a parlous state, shepherd. ! a tree.
Cor. Not a whit, Touchstone: those, that
are good manners at the court, are as ridicu-
lous in the country, as the behaviour of the
country is most mockable at the court. You
told me, you salute not at the court, but you
kiss your hands; that courtesy would be un-
eleanly, if courtiers were shepherds.

Touch. Instance, briefly; come, instance.
Cor. Why, we are still bandling our ewes ;
and their feils, you know, are greasy.

Touch. Why, do not your courtier's hands sweat? and is not the grease of a mutton as wholesome as the sweat of a man? Shallow, shallow a better instance, I say; come.

Cor. Besides, our hands are hard.
Touch. Your lips will feel them the sooner.
Shallow, again: A more sounder instance, come.

Cor. And they are often tarr'd over with the surgery of our sheep; And would you have us kiss tar? The courtier's hands are perfumed with civet.

Touch. Most shallow man! Thou wormsmeat, in respect of a good piece of flesh: Indeed!-Learn of the wise, and prepend: Civet is of a baser birth than tar: the very uncleanly flux of a cat. Mend the instance, shepherd.

Cor. you have too courtly a wit for me; I'll

rest.

Touch. Wilt thou rest damn'd? God help thee, shallow man! God make incision in thee! thou art raw.*

Cor. Sir, I am a true labourer; I earn that I eat, get that I wear; owe no man hate, envy no man's happiness; glad of other men's good, content with my harm: and the greatest of my pride is, to see my ewes graze, and my lambs suck.

Touch. That's another simple sin in you; to bring the ewes and the rams together, and to offer to get your living by the copulation of cattle to be bawd to a bell-wether; and to betray a she-lamb of a twelvemonth to a crooked-pated, old cuckoldly ram, out of all reasonable match. If thou be'st not damn'd for this, the devil himself will have no shepherds; I cannot see else how thou shouldst 'scape.

Touch. Truly the tree yields bad fruit. Ros. I'll graff it with you, and then I shall graff it with a medlar; Then it will be the earliest fruit in the country: for you'll be rotten e'er you be half ripe, and that's the right virtue of the medlar.

Touch. You have said; but whether wisely or no, let the forest judge.

Enter CELIA, reading a paper.
Ros. Peace!

Here comes my sister reading; stand aside.

Cel. Why should this desert silent be?
For it is unpeopled? No;
Tongues I'll hang on every tree,
That shall civil sayings show,
Some, how brief the life of man
Runs his erring pilgrimage;
That the stretching of a span
Buckles in his sum of age.
Some, of violated vows

'Twixt the souls of friend and friend; But upon the fairest boughs,

Or at every sentence' end
Will I Rosalinda write;

Teaching all that read, to know
The quintessence of every sprite
Heaven would in little show.
Therefore heaven nature charg'd
That one body should be fill'd
With all graces wide enlarg'd:
Nature presently distill'd
Helen's check, but not her heart;
Cleopatra's majesty;
Atalanta's better part;

Sud Lucretia's modesty.
Thus Rosalind of many parts

By heavenly synod was devis'd;
Of many faces, eyes, and hearts,

To have the touches + dearest priz'd. Heaven would that she these gifts should have,

And I to live and die her slave.

Ros. O most gentle Jupiter!-what tedions homily of love have you wearied your parishion

Cor. Here comes young master Ganymede, ers withal, and never cried, Hare patience, my new mistress' brother.

Enter ROSALIND, reading a paper.
Ros. From the east to western Ind,

No jewel is like Rosalind.
Her worth, being mounted on the wind,
Through all the world bears Rosalind.
All the pictures, fairest lin'd, †
Are but black to Rosalind.
Let no face be kept in mind,
But the fair of Rosalind.

Touch. I'll rhyme you so, eight years together dinners, and suppers, and sleeping bours excepted it is the right butter-woman's rank to market.

Ros. Out, fool!

Touch. For a taste :-

If a hart do lack a hind,
Let him seek out Rosalind.
If the cat will after kind,
So, be sure, will Rosalind.
Winter-garments must be lin'd,
So must slender Rosalind.

They that reap, must sheaf and bind;
Then to cart with Rosalind.
Sweetest nut hath sourest rind,
Such a nut is Rosalind.

He that sweetest rose will find,

Must find love's prick, and Rosalind.

good people!

Cel. How now! back friends ;-Shepherd, go off a little :-go with him, sirrah.

Touch. Come, shepherd, let us make an honourable retreat; though not with bag and baggage, yet with scrip and scrippage.

[Exeunt CORIN and TOUCHSTONE. Cel. Didst thou hear these verses ? Ros. O yes, I heard them all, and more too; for some of them had in them more feet than the verses would bear.

Cel. That's no matter; the feet might bear

the verses.

Ros. Ay, but the feet were lame, and could not bear themselves without the verse, and therefore stood lamely in the verse.

Cel. But didst thou hear, without wondering, how thy name should be hanged and carved upon these trees?

Ros. I was seven of the nine days ont of the wonder, before you came; for look here what I found on a palm-tree: 1 was never so berhymned since Pythagoras' time, that I was an Irish rat, which 1 can hardly remember.

Cel. Trow yon, who hath done this?

Ros. Is it a man?

Cel. And a chain that you once wore, about his neck: Change you colour?

Ros. I pr'ythee, who?

Cel. O lord, lord! It is a hard matter for

This is the very false gallop of verses; Why do friends to meet; but mountains may be removed you infect yourself with them.

with earthquakes, and so encounter.

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Ros. Nay, but who is it?
Cel. Is it possible?

Ros. Nay, I pray thee now, with most petitionary vehemence, tell me who it is.

Jaq. God be with you; let's meet as little as

we can.

Orl. I do desire we may be better strangers. Jaq. I pray you, mar no more trees with won-writing love-songs on their barks.

Cel. O wonderful, wonderful, and most derful wonderful, and yet again wonderful, and after that out of all whooping! *

Ros. Good my complexion! dost thou think, though I am caparison'd like a man, I have a doublet and hose in my disposition? One inch of delay more is a South-sea off discovery. I pr'ythee, tell me, who is it? quickly, and speak apace I would thou couldst stammer, that thou might'st pour this conceal'd man out of thy mouth, as wine comes out of narrowmouth'd bottle; either too much at once, or none at all. I pr'ythee take the cork out of thy mouth, that I may drink thy tidings.

Cel. So you may put a man in your belly. Ros. Is he of God's making? what manner of man? Is his head worth a hat, or his chin worth a beard?

Cel. Nay, he hath but a little beard.

Ros. Why, God will send more, if the man will be thankful: let me stay the growth of bis beard, if thou delay me not the knowledge of his chin.

Cel. It is young Orlando; that tripped up the wrestler's heels, and your heart, both in an instant.

Ros. Nay, but the devil take mocking; speak sad brow, and true maid. +

Cel. 'faith, coz, 'tis he.

Ros. Orlando ?

Cel. Orlando.

Ros. Alas the day! what shall I do with my doublet and hose?-What did he, when thou Eaw'st him? What said he? How look'd he? Wherein went he? what makes he here? Did he ask for me? Where remains be? How parted he with thee? and when thou shalt see him again? Answer me in one word.

Orl. I pray you, mar no more of my verses with reading them ill-favouredly.

Jaq. Rosalind is your love's name?
Orl. Yes, just.

Jaq. I do not like her name.

Orl. There was no thought of pleasing you, when she was christened.

Jaq. What stature is she of?
Orl. Just as high as my heart.

Jaq. You are full of pretty answers: Have you not been acquainted with goldsmiths' wives, and conued them out of rings?

Orl. Not so; but I answer you right painted cloth, from whence you have studied your questions.

Jaq. You have a nimble wit; I think it was made of Atalanta's heels. Will you sit down with me? and we two will rail against our mistress the world, and our misery.

Orl. I will chide no breather in the world, but myself; against whom I know most faults. Jaq. The worst fault you have, is to be in love.

Orl. '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 found you.

Orl. He is drowned in the brook; look but in and you shall see him.

Jaq. There shall I see mine own figure. Orl. Which I take to be either a fool, or a cipher.

Jaq. I'll tarry no longer with you: farewell good signíor love.

Orl. I am glad of your departure; adieu, good monsieur melancholy.

[Exit JAQUES.-CELIA and ROSALIND come forward.

Cel. You must borrow me Garagantua's mouth first: 'tis a word too great for any mouth of this age's size: To say, ay, and no, to these particulars, is more than to answer in a cate--Do you hear, forester? chism.

Ros. I will speak to him like a saucy lacquey, and under that habit play the knave with him.

Ros. But doth he know that I am in this forest, and in man's apparel ? Looks he as freshly as he did the day he wrestled?

Cel. It is as easy to count atomies, I as to resolve the propositions of a lover:-but take a taste of my finding him, and relish it with a good observance. I found him under a tree, like a dropp'd acorn.

Ros. It may well be called Jove's tree, when it drops forth such fruit.

Cel. Give me audience, good madam.
Ros. Proceed.

Cel. There lay he, stretched along, like a wounded knight.

Ros. Though it be pity to see such a sight, it well becomes the ground.

Cel, Cry, bolla! to thy tongue, I pr'ythee; it curvets very unseasonably. He was furnished like a hunter.

Ros. O ominous! he comes to kill my heart. Cel. I would sing my song without a burden: thou bring'st me out of tune.

Orl. Very well; what would you?
Ros. I pray you, what is't a clock ?

Orl. You should ask me, what time o'day; there's no clock in the forest.

Ros. Then there is no true lover in the forest; else sighing every minute, and groaning every hour, would detect the lazy foot of time, as well as a clock.

Orl. And why not the swift foot of time? had not that been as proper?

Ros. By no means, Sir: Time travels in divers paces with divers persons: I'll tell you who time ambles withal, who time trots withal, who time gallops withal, and who he stands still withal,

Orl. I pr'ythee, who doth he trot withal?

Ros. Marry, he trots hard with a young maid, between the contract of her marriage, and the day it is solemnized: if the interim be but a se'nnight, time's pace is so hard that it seems the length of seven years.

Orl. Who ambles time withal? Ros. With a priest that lacks Latin, and a Ros. Do you not know I am a woman? when rich man that hath not the gout: for the one I think, I must speak. Sweet, say on.

Enter ORLANDO and JAQUES.

sleeps easily, because he cannot study; and the other lives merrily, because he feels no pain the one lacking the burden of lean and

Cel. You bring me out :-Soft! comes he not wasteful learning; the other knowing no burden

here ?

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of heavy tedious penury: These time ambles

withal.

Orl. Who 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.

Orl. Who stays it still withal?

Ros. With lawyers in the vacation for they

• An allusion to the moral sentences of old tapest.y hangings.

sleep between term and term, and then they perceive not how time moves.

Orl. Where dwell you, pretty youth? Rs. With this shepherdess, my sister; here in the skirts of the forest, like fringe upon a petticoat.

Orl. Are you native of this place?

Ros. As the coney, that you see dwell where she is kindled.

time would I, being but a moonish youth, grieve, be effeminate, changeable, longing, and liking; proud, fantastical, apish, shallow, inconstant, full of tears, full of smiles; for every passion something, and for ne passion truly any thing, as boys and women are for the most part cattle of this colour: would now like bin, now loath him; then entertain him, then forswear him; now weep for him, then spit at him; that I drave my suitor from his mad bamour of love, to a living humour of madness; which was, to

Ort. Your accent is something finer than you could purchase in so removed a dwelling. Ros. I have been told so of many: but, in-forswear the full stream of the world, and deed, an old religious uncle of mine tanght me to speak, who was in his youth an inlaud† man; one that knew courtship too well, for there he fell in love. I have heard him read many lectures against it; and I thank God, I am not ain't. woman, to be touched with so many giddy of fences as be hath generally taxed their whole sex withal.

Orl. Can you remember any of the principal evils, that he laid to the charge of women?

Ros. There were none principal; they were all like one another, as halfpence are: every one fault seeming monstrous, till his fellow fault came to match it.

Orl. I pr'ythee, recount some of them. Ros. No; I will not cast away my physic, but on those that are sick. There is a man haunts the forest, that abuses our young plants with carving Rosalind on their barks; hangs odes

to live in a nook merely monastic: And thus I cured him; and this way will I take upon me to wash your liver as clean as a sound sheep's heart, that there shall not be one spot of love Orl. I would not be cured, youth.

Ros. I would cure you, if you would but call me Rosalind, and come every day to my cote, and woo me.

Ort. Now, by the faith of my love, I will; tell me where it is.

Ros. Go with me to it, and I'll show it you and by the way, shall tell me where in the forest you live: Will you go?

Orl. With all my heart, good youth.
Ros. Nay, you must call me Rosalind :—
Come, sister, will you go?
[Exeunt.

SCENE 1II.

upon hawthorns, and elegies on brambles; all, Enter TOUCHSTONE and AUDREY; JAQUES at forsooth, deifying the name of Rosalind: if i could meet that fancy-monger, I would give him some good counsel, for he seems to have the quotidian of love upon him.

Orl. I am he that is so love shaked; I pray you, tell me your remedy,

Ros. 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 sure, you are not prisoner.

Orl. What were his marks?

Ros. A lean cheek; which you have not: a blue eye, nnd sunken; which you have not: an unquestionable spirit:t which you have not: a beard neglected: which you have not-but I pardon you for that; for, simply, your having in beard is a younger brother's revenue :-Then your hose should be ungartered, your bonnet unbanded, your sleeve unbuttoned, your shoe untied, and every thing about you demonstrating a careless desolation. But you are no such man; you are rather point-device in your accoutrements; as loving yourself, than seeming the lover of any other.

Orl. Fair youth, I would I could make thee believe I love.

Ros. Me believe it? you may as soon make her that you love believe it; which, I warrant, she is apter to do, than to confess she does that is one of the points in the which women still give the lie to their consciences. But, in good sooth, are you he that hangs the verses on the trees, wherein Rosalind is so admired ?

Orl. I swear to thee, youth, by the white hand of Rosalind, I am that he, that unfortunate he. Ros. But are you so much in love as your rhymes speak ?

Orl. Neither rhyme nor reason can express how much.

Ros. Love is merely a madness; and I tell you, deserves as well a dark house and a whip, as madmen do: and the reason why they are not so punished and cured, is, that the lunacy is so ordinary, that the whippers are in love too: Yet I profess curing it by counsel.

Orl. Did you ever cure any so?
Ros. Yes, one; and in this manner. He
was to imagine me his love, bis mistress: and
I set him every day to woo me: At which

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a distance, observing them. Touch, Come, apace, good Audrey; I will fetch up your goats, Audrey: And how, Audrey? am I the man yet? Doth my simple feature content you?

And. Your features! Lord warrant us! what features ?

Touch. I am am here with thee and thy goats, as the most capricious † poet, honest Ovid, was among the Goths.

Jaq. O knowledge ill-inhabited! worse than Jove in a thatch'd house!

[Aside.

Touch. When a man's verses cannot be uuderstood, 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-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?

Touch. No, truly; for the truest poetry is the most feigning; and lovers are given to poetry; and what they swear in poetry, may be said, as lovers, they do feign.

Aud. Do you wish then, that the gods had made me poetical ?

Touch. I do, truly; for thou swear'st to me, thou art honest; now, if thou wert a a poet, í might have some hope thou didst feign.

Aud. Would you not have me honest? Touch. No truly, unless thou wert bard favour'd for honesty coupled to beauty, is to have honey a sauce to sugar.

[Aside.

Jaq. A material fool! § Aud. Well, I am not fair; and therefore I pray the gods make me honest!

Touch. Truly, and to cast away honesty upon a foul slut, were to put good meat into an unclean dish.

Aud. I am not a slut, though I thank the gods I am foul. ||

Touch. Well, praised be the gods for thy foulness! sluttishness may come hereafter. But be it as it may be, I will marry thee: and to that end, I have been with Sir Oliver Martext, the vicar of the next village; who bath promised to meet me in this place of the forest, and to couple us.

Juq. I would fain see this mecting. [Aside.

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