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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.

Enter Silvius.
Sil. My errand is to you, fair youth,
My gentle Phebe bid me give you this :
I know not the contents; but, as I guess,
By the stern brow, and waspilh action
Which she did use as she was writing of it,
It bear's an angry tenour ; pardon me,
I am but as a guiltless messenger.

Rof. Patience herself would startle at this letter,
And play the swaggerer ; bear this, bear all.
She says, I am not fair ; that I lack manners ;
She calls me proud, and that the could not love me
Were man as rare as phenix : '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 ;
Pbebe did write it.

Ros. Come, come, you're a fool,
And turn'd into th' extremity of love.
I saw her hand, she has a leathern hand,
A free-stone-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, she never did invent this letter ;
This is a man's invention, and his hand.

Sil. Sure, it is hers.

Rof. Why, 'tis a boisterous and a cruel file,
A ftile for challengers ; why, she 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 Pbebe's me; mark, how the tyrant writes.

[Reads ]

me,

(Reads.] Art thou God to fhepherd turn'd;
That a maiden's heart hath burn'd?
Can a woman rail thus ?
Sil. Call you this railing?

Rof. [Reads.) Why, thy Godhead laid apart,
Warr'A thou with a woman's heart?
Did you ever hear fuch railing!

Whiles the eye of man did woo me,

That could do no vengeance
Meaning me, a beaft!

If the fcorn of your bright eyne
Have power to raise fuch love in mine,
Alack, in me, what frange effett
Would they work in mild aspect?
Wbiles

you

chid 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
Will the faithful offer take
Of me, and all that I can make ;
Or else by him my love deny,

And then I'll Audy how to die.
Sil. Call you this chiding?
Cel. Alas, poor shepherd !

Ros. Do you pity him? no, he deserves no pity : wilt thou love such a woman? what, to make thee an inftrument, and play false strains upon thee? not to be endured ! Well, go your way to her; (for I fee, love hath made thee a tame snake,) and say this to her : " that if she love me, I charge her to love thee: if the “ will not, I will never have her, unless thou entreat for « her.” If

you a true lover, hence, and not a word; for here comes more company.

Enter Oliver. Oli. Good-morrow, fair ones : pray you, if you know,

Where,

be

[Exit Sil.

Where, in the purlews of this foreft, stands
A sheep-cote fenc'd about with olive-trees ?
Cel." West of this place, down in the neighbour

bottom,
The rank of ofiers, 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 should I 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 enquire 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 he ?

Ref. 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 flain'd.

Cel. I pray you, tell it.

Oli. When laft the young Orlando parted from you, He left a promise to return again Within an hour; and pacing through the foreft, 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'er-grown 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 bulh; under which bush's shade

A

A Lioness, with udders all drawn dry,
Lay couching head on ground, with cat-like 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 eldest brother.

Cel. O, I have heard him speak of that same brother,
And he did render him the most unnatural
That liv'd 'mongst men.

Oli. And well he might so do; For, well I know, he was unnatural.

Rof. But, to Orlando ; did he leave him there,
Food to the suck'd and hungry lioness ?

Oli. Twice did he turn his back, and purpos'd so :
But kindness, nobler ever than revenge,
And nature stronger than his juft occasion,
Made him give battle to the lioness,
Who quickly fell before him; in which hurtling
From miserable flumber I awak'd.
Cel. Are

you

his brother? Ros. Was it you he rescu'd? Cel. Was it you that did so oft contrive to kill him?

Oli. 'Twas I ; but 'tis not I; I do not shame To tell

you what I was, fince my conversion So sweetly tastes, being the thing I am.

Ref. But, for the bloody napkin!

Oli. By, and by.
When from the first to last, betwixt us two,
Tears our recountments had most kindly bath'd,
As how I came into that desart place ;
In brief, he led me to the gentle Duke,
Who gave me fresh array and entertainment,
Committing me unto my brother's love ;
Who led me instantly unto his cave,
There strip'd himself, and here upon

his arm
The lioness had torn some flesh away,
Which all this while had bled; and now he fainted,
And cry'd, in fainting, upon Rosalind.
Brief, I recover'd him ; bound up his wound ;

And,

And, after some small space, being strong at heart,
He sent me hither, ftranger as I am,
To tell this story, that you might excuse
His broken promise ; and to give this napkin,
Dy'd in his blood, unto the shepherd youth,
That he in sport doth call his Rosalind.
Cel. Why, how now. Ganimed, Sweet Ganimed?

[Rof. faints.
Oli. Many will swoon, when they do look on blood.
Cel. There is more in it:-cousin Ganimed!
Oli. Look, he recovers,
Rof. Would, I were at home!

Cel. We'll lead you thither.
I pray you, will you take him by the arm?

Oli. Be of good cheer, youth'; you a man? you lack a man's heart.

Rof. I do so, I confess it. Ah, Sir, a body would think, this was well counterfeited. I pray you, tell your brother how well I coupterfeited: heigh ho!

Oli. This was not counterfeit, there is too great testimony in your complexion, that it was a passion of carnest.

Ros. Counterfeit, I assure you.
Oli. Well then, take a good heart, and counterfeit to

Rof. So I do: but, i' faith, I fhould have been a woman by right.

Cel Come you look paler and paler; pray you, draw homewards; good Sir, go

with us. Oli. That will I.; for I must bear answer back, How you excuse my brother, Rosalind.

RoM I fall devise something; but, I pray you commend my counterfeiting to him: will you goi [Exeunt.

be a man

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