Cel. I warrant you, with pure love and brain, he hath ta'en his bow and arrows, an forth to fleep look, who comes here. Enter Silvius. Sil. My errand is to you, fair youth, Rof. Patience her felf would ftartle at this lett Sil. No, I protest, I know not the contents ; Phebe did write it. Rof. Come, come, you're a fool, And turn'd into th' extremity of love. Sil. Sure, it is hers. Rof. Why, 'tis a boisterous and a cruel ftile, A ftile for challengers; why, fhe defies me, Like Turk to Chriftian; woman's gentle brain Could not drop forth fuch giant rude invention; Such Ethiop words, blacker in their effect [Reads.] Art thou God to Shepherd turn'd, That a maiden's heart hath burn'd? Sil. Call you this railing? Rof. [Reads.] Why, thy Godhead laid apart, If the fcorn of your bright eyne Of me, and all that I can make ; And then I'll ftudy how to die. Sil. Call you this chiding? Rof. Do you pity him? no, he deserves no pity: wilt thou love fuch 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 fnake,) and fay this to her; "that if she love me, I charge her to love thee: if she "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 Where, in the purlews of this foreft, ftands 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 stream, Oli. If that an eye may profit by a tongue, years: the boy is fair, "Of female favour, and bestows himself "Like a ripe Sifter: but the woman low, "And browner than her brother." Are not you The owner of the houfe, I did enquire for Cel. It is no boaft, being ask'd, to say, we are. Oli. Orlando doth commend him to you both, And to that youth, he calls his Rofalind, He fends this bloody napkin. Are you he? Rof. 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 ftain'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, Lo, what befel! he threw his eye afide, A wretched ragged man, o'er-grown with hair, A green and gilded fnake had wreath'd it self, A Lioness, with udders all drawn dry, Lay couching head on ground, with cat-like watch To prey on nothing that doth feem as dead: And found it was his brother, his eldest 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 lionefs? Oli. Twice did he turn his back, and purpos'd fo: But kindness, nobler ever than revenge, And nature ftronger than his juft occafion, Who quickly fell before him; in which hurtling Cel. Are you his brother? Rof. Was it you he rescu'd? Cel. Was it you that did fo oft contrive to kill him? To tell you what I was, fince my converfion Oli. By, and by. When from the first to laft, betwixt us two, upon his arm And, And, after some small space, being ftrong at heart, To tell this story, that you might excufe Cel. Why, how now Ganimed, Sweet, Ganimed? Oli. Many will fwoon, when they do look on blood. Rof. Would, I were at home! Cel. We'll lead you thither. I pray you, will you take him by the arm? A s A SCE E WE E fhall Audre Aud Oli. Be of good cheer, youth; you a man? you lack the old gent a man's heart. Clo. A most War-text! but Rof. I do fo, I confefs it. Ah, Sir, a body would think, this was well counterfeited. I pray you, tell your lays claim brother how well I counterfeited: heigh ho! ad. Ay, I Oli. This was not counterfeit, there is too great the world; H teftimony in your complexion, that it was a paffion of earnest. Rof. Counterfeit, I affure you. Ch. It is me Oli. Well then, take a good heart, and counterfeit to my troth, we, be a man. Rof. So I do but, i' faith, I should have been a woman by right. Fer for: we f Will. Good Aud. God y 1 Cel. Come, you look paler and paler; pray you, Will, And draw homewards; good Sir, go with us. Oli. That will I; for I muft bear answer back, How you excufe my brother, Rofalind. Rof. I fhall devife fomething; but, I pray you com mend my counterfeiting to him: will you go? [Exeunt. Ch. Good e rer thy head; For, friend? Will. Five Ch. A ripe Will. Will Ch. A fair Will. Ay, Cl 3 |