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Phe. Dead shepherd! now I find thy saw of might; Who ever lov'd, that lov'd not at first sight ?4
Sil. Sweet Phebe,
Ha! what say'st thou, Silvius?
Sil. Wherever sorrow is, relief would be;
Phe. Thou hast my love; Is not that neighbourly?
Why, that were covetousness.
Sil. So holy, and so perfect is my love,
4 Dead shepherd! now I find thy saw of might;
Who ever lov'd, that lov'd not at first sight?] The second of these lines is from Marlowe's Hero and Leander, 1637, sign. B b. where it stands thus:
“ Where both deliberate, the love is slight:
“ Who ever lov’d, that lov'd not at first sight.?”! This line is likewise quoted in Belvidere, or the Garden of the Muses, 1610, p. 29, and in England's Parnassus, printed in 1600, p. 261. Steevens.
This poem of Marlowe's was so popular, (as appears from many of the contemporary writers) that a quotation from it mast have been known at once, at least by the more enlightened part of the audience. Our author has again alluded to it in the Two Gentlemen of Verona. - The “dead shepherd,” Marlowe, was kill. ed in a brothel, in 1593. Two editions of Hero and Leander, I believe, had been published before the year 1600; it being entered in the Stationers' Books, Sept. 28, 1593, and again in 1597.
Phe. Know'st thou the youth that spoke to me ere
Phe. Think not I love him, though I ask for him;
5 To glean the broken ears after the man
That the main harvest reaps: loose now and then
A scatter'd smile,] Perhaps Shakspeare owed this image to the second chapter of the book of Ruth: “ Let fall some handfuls of purpose for her, and leave them that she may glean them.”
Steevens. 6 That the old carlot once was master of.] i.e. peasant, from carl or churl; probably a word of Shakspeare's coinage. Douce.
- a peevish boy: ] Peevish, in ancient language, signifies weak, silly. So, in King Richard III:
“ When Richmond was a little peevish boy.” Steevens. 8 He is not tall; yet for his years he's tall:] The old copy reads :
He is not very tall, &c. For the sake of metre, I have omitted the useless adverb--very.
Steevens. the constant red, and mingled damask.] “ Constant red” is uniform red..“ Mingled damask” is the silk of that name, in which, by a various direction of the threads, many lighter shades of the same colour are exhibited. Steevens.
For what had he to do to chide at me?
Sil. Phebe, with all my heart.
I'll write it straight;
ACT IV..... SCENE I.
Enter ROSALIND, CELIA, and JAQUES. Jaq. I prythee, pretty youth, let me be better? acquainted with thee.
Ros. They say, you are a melancholy fellow.
Ros. Those, that are in extremity of either, are abominable fellows; and betray themselves to every modern censure, worse than drunkards.
Jaq. Why, 'tis good to be sad and say nothing.
Jag. I have neither the scholar's melancholy, which is emulation; nor the musician's, which is fantastical; nor the courtier's, which is proud; nor the soldier's, which is ambitious; nor the lawyer's, which is politick; nor the lady's, which is nice;3 nor the lover's, which is all these:
1 I have more cause — ] I, which seems to have been inadvertently omitted in the old copy, was inserted by the editor of the second folio. Malone.
let me be better -] Be, which is wanting in the old copy, was added by the editor of the second folio. Malone.
which is nice ;] i. e. silly, trifling. So, in King Richard III:
“But the respects thereof are nice and trivial.” See a note on Romeo and Juliet, Act V, sc. ii. Steevens.
but it is a melancholy of mine own, compounded of many simples, extracted from many objects: and, indeed, the sundry contemplation of my travels, in which my often rumination wraps me, is a most humorous sadness.4
Ros. A traveller! By my faith, you have great reason to be sad: I fear, you have sold your own lands, to see other men's; then, to have seen much, and to have nothing, is to have rich eyes and poor hands. Jaq. Yes, I have gained my experience.
Enter ORLANDO. Ros. And your experience makes you sad: I had rather have a fool to make me merry, than experience to make me sad; and to travel for it too.
Orl. Good day, and happiness, dear Rosalind!
[Exit. Ros. Farewel, monsieur traveller: Look, you lisp, and wear strange suits; disables all the benefits of your own country; be out of love with your nativity, and almost chide God for making you that countenance you are; or I will scarce think you have swam in a gondola.6 Why, how now, Orlando! where have you been
my often rumination wraps me, is a most humorous sadness.] The old copy reads-in a most, &c. Steevens.
The old copy has—by often. Corrected by the editor of the se. cond folio. Perhaps we should rather read " and which, by often rumination, wraps me in a most humorous sadness.” Malone.
As this speech concludes with a sentence at once ungrammatical and obscure, I have changed a single letter in it; and instead of “ in a most humorous sadness," have ventured to read, “ is a most humorous sadness.” Jaques first informs Rosalind what his melancholy was not; and naturally concludes by telling her what the quality of it is. To obtain a clear meaning, a less degree of violence cannot be employed. Steevens.
disable — ) i.e. undervalue. So afterwards :-“he disabled my judgment.” Steevens.
6 - swam in a gondola.] That is been at Venice, the seat at that time of all licentiousness, where the young English gentlemen wasted their fortunes, debased their morals, and sometimes lost their religion.
The fashion of travelling, which prevailed very much in our author's time, was considered by the wiser men as one of the principal causes of corrupt manners. It was, therefore, gravely censured by Ascham, in his Schoolmaster, and by Bishop Hall,
all this while? You a lover?An you serve me such another trick, never come in my sight more.
Orl. My fair Rosalind, I come within an hour of my promise.
Ros. Break an hour's promise in love? He that will divide a minute into a thousand parts, and break but a part of the thousandth part of a minute in the affairs of love, it may be said of him, that Cupid hath clap'd him o' the shoulder, but I warrant him heart-whole.
Orl. Pardon me, dear Rosalind.
Ros. Nay, an you be so tardy, come no more in my sight; I had as lief be woo'd of a snail.
Orl. Of a snail?
Ros. Ay, of a snail; for though he comes slowly, he carries his house on his head; a better jointure, I think, than you can make a woman:” Besides, he brings his destiny with him.
Orl. What's that?
Ros. Why, horns; which such as you are fain to be beholden to your wives for: but he comes armed in his fortune, and prevents the slander of his wife.
Orl. Virtue is no horn-maker; and my Rosalind is virtuous.
Ros. And I am your Rosalind.
Cel. It pleases him to call you so; but he hath a Rosalind of a better leer than you.8
in his Quo vadis; and is here, and in other passages, ridiculed by Shakspeare. Johnson.
than you can make a wornan.] Old copy-you make a
Corrected by Sir T. Hanmer. Malone.
a Rosalind of a better leer than you.] i. e. of a better feature, complexion, or colour, than you. So, in P. Holland's Pliny, B. XXXI, c. ii, p. 403: “In some places there is no other thing bred or growing, but brown and duskish, insomuch as not only the cattel is all of that lere, but also the corn on the
ground," &c. The word seems to be derived from the Saxon Hleare, fa. cies, frons, vultus. So it is used in Titus Andronicus, Act IV, sc. ii : “Here's a young lad fram'd of another leer.” Tollet.
In the notes on the Canterbury Tales of Chaucer, Vol. IV, p. 320, lere is supposed to mean skin. So, in Isumbras MSS. Cott. Cal. II, fol. 129:
“ His lady is white as whales bone,
“ So fair as blosme on tre.” Steevens