She fays, I am not fair; that I lack manners; Sil. No, I proteft, I know not the contents; Rof. Come, come, you're a fool, And turn'd into th' extremity of love. I faw her hand, fhe has a leathern hand, This is a man's invention, and his hand. Rof. Why, 'tis a boisterous and a cruel stile, Than in their countenance; will you hear the letter ? Rof. She Phebe's me; mark how the tyrant writes. [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'ft thou with a woman's heart? Did you ever bear fuck railing? Whiles the eye of man did woo me, If the fcorn of your bright eyne Whiles you chid me, I did love; Of me, and all that I can make ; Rof. Do you pity him? no, he deferves no pity: Wilt thou love fuch a woman? what, to make thee an inftrument, and play falfe ftrains upon thee? not to be endured! well, go your way to her; (for I fee, love hath made thee a tame fnake,) and fay this to her; that if she love me, I charge her to love thee: If fhe will not, I will never have her, unless thou entreat for her. If you be a true lover, hence, and not a word; for here comes more company. [Exit Sil. Enter Oliver. Oli. Good-morrow, fair ones: Pray you, if you know, Where in the purlews of this forest stands A fheep-cote fenc'd about with olive-trees? Cel. Weft of this place, down in the neighbour bottom, The rank of ofiers, by the murmuring ftream, Left on your right-hand, brings you to the place; There's none within. Oli. If that an eye may profit by a tongue, years: The boy is fair, we are. both, And And to that youth, he calls his Refalind, Rof. I am; what muft we understand by this? 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, A wretched ragged man, o'ergrown with hair, Lay couching head on ground, with cat-like watch To prey on nothing that doth feem as dead : This feen, Orlando did approach the man, And found it was his brother, his elder brother.' Cel. O, I have heard him speak of that fame brother, And he did render him the most unnatural That liv'd 'mongst men. Oli. And well he might fo do: For, well I know he was unnatural. Rof. But to Orlando; did he leave him there Food to the fuck'd and hungry lioness? Oli. Twice did he turn his back, and purpos'd so: But kindness, nobler ever than revenge, And nature ftronger than his juft occafion, Made Made him give battle to the lionefs, Who quickly fell before him; in which hurtling Cel. Are you his brother? Rof. Was't you he refcu'd ? Cel. Was't you that did so oft contrive to kill him ? Oli. "Twas I; but 'tis not I; I do not fhame To tell you what I was, fince my converfion So fweetly taftes, being the thing I am. Oli. By and by When from the firft to laft, betwixt us two, upon The lionefs had torn fome flesh away, his arm Which all this while had bled; and now he fainted, Brief, I recover'd him; bound up his wound; And, after fome fmall space, being ftrong at heart, To tell this story, that you might excuse Cel. Why, how now Ganymed, fweet Ganymed? [Rof. faints. Oli. Many will fwoon, when they do look on blood. Cel. There is more in it:-coufin Ganymed! 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 fo, I confess it. Ah, Sir, a body would think, this was well counterfeited. I pray you, tell your brother how well I counterfeited: Heigh-ho! Oli. This was not counterfeit, there is too great testimony in your complection, that it was a paffion of earnest. Rof. Counterfeit, I affure you. Oli. Well then, take a good heart, and counterfeit to be a man. Rof. So I do: But, i' faith, I should 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 excufe my brother, Rofalind. Rof. I fhall devife fomething; but, I pray you, commend my counterfeiting to him: Will you go? [Exeunt. WE A CT V. SCENE the Foreft. Enter Clown and Audrey. CLOWN. 7E fhall find a time, Audrey; patience, gentle Audrey. Aud. Faith, the priest was good enough, for all the old gentleman's faying. Clo. A moft wicked Sir Oliver, Audrey; a moft vile Mar-text! but, Audrey, there is a youth here in the foreft lays claim to you. Aud. Ay, I know who 'tis, he hath no interest in me in the world; here comes the man you mean. Enter William. Clo. It is meat and drink to me to fee a clown; by my troth, we, that have good wits, have much to answer for: We fhall be flouting; we cannot hold. |