k

Within an hour; and, pacing through the forest,
Chewing the food of 'fweet and bitter fancy,
Lo, what befel! he threw his eye aside,
And, mark, what object did present itself!
Under an oak, whofe boughs were mofs'd with age,
And high top bald with dry antiquity,

A wretched ragged man, o'er-grown with hair,
Lay fleeping on his back: about his neck
A green and gilded fnake had wreath'd itself,
Who with her head, nimble in threats, approach'd
The opening of his mouth; but fuddenly
Seeing Orlando, it unlink'd itself,

And with indented glides did flip away
Into a bush: under which bush's fhade

A lionefs, with udders all drawn dry,

Lay couching, head on ground, with cat-like watch,
When that the fleeping man should stir; for 'tis

The royal difpofition of that beast,

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 fo:

But kindness, nobler ever than revenge,

And nature, ftronger than his juft occasion,

Made him give battle to the lioness,

k two bours.

fweet and bitter fancy,]-of love, which is faid to be made up of contraries.

Who

Who quickly fell before him; in which hurtling
From miferable flumber I awak'd.

Cel. Are you his brother?

Rof. Was it 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.
Rof. But, for the bloody napkin ?—
Oli. By, and by.

When from the first to last, betwixt us two,
Tears our recountments had moft kindly bath'd,
As how I came into that defert 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 inftantly unto his cave,
There ftripp'd himself, and here upon
The lioness had torn fome flesh away,

his arm

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, after fome fmall space, being strong at heart,
He fent 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 fhepherd youth
That he in sport doth call his Rosalind.

Cel. Why, how now, Ganymed? fweet Ganymed?

[Rofalind faints. Oli. Many will fwoon when they do look on blood. Cel. There is more in it :-Coufin-Ganymed!

m burtling]-fcuffle, fkirmish.

Oli. Be of good cheer, youth :-You a man-you lack a man's heart.

Rof. I do fo, I confess it. Ah, fir, 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 complexion, that it was a paffion of earneft. Rof. Counterfeit, I assure 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 fir, go with us.

Oli. That will I, for I must bear answer back

How you excuse my brother, Rofalind.

Rof. I fhall devise fomething: But, I pray you, commend my counterfeiting to him :-Will you go? [Exeunt.

ACT V. SCENE I.
The Foreft.

Enter Clown, and Audrey.

Clo. We fhall find a time, Audrey; patience, gentle Audrey.

Aud. 'Faith, the prieft was good enough, for all the old gentleman's faying.

Clo.

Clo. A most wicked fir Oliver, Audrey, a moft vile Mar-text. But, Audrey, there is a youth here in the forest 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 shall be flouting; we cannot hold.

Will. Good even, Audrey.

Aud. God ye good even, William.
Will. And good even to you, fir.

Clo. Good even, gentle friend: Cover thy head, cover thy head; nay, pr'ythee, be cover'd. How old are you, friend?

Will. Five and twenty, fir.

Clo. A ripe age: Is thy name, William?

Will. William, fir.

Clo. A fair name: Waft born i'the foreft here?

Will. Ay, fir, I thank God.

Clo. Thank God;-a good anfwer: Art rich?
Will. 'Faith, fir, so, so.

Clo. So, fo; 'Tis good, very good, very excellent good: -and yet it is not; it is but fo fo. Art thou wife?

Will. Ay, fir, I have a pretty wit.

Clo. Why, thou fay'ft well. I do now remember a saying; The fool doth think he is wife, but the wife man knows bimself to be a fool. The heathen philofopher, when he had a defire to eat a grape, would open his lips when he put it into his mouth; meaning thereby, that grapes were maid to eat, and lips to open. You do love this maid?

n It is meat and drink to me]-My greatest delight. "That's meat and drink to me now."

MERRY WIVES OF WINDSOR, Act I, S. 1. Slen.

Will. I do fir.

Clo. Give me your hand: Art thou learned?

Will. No, fir.

Clo. Then learn this of me; To have, is to have: For it is a figure in rhetorick, that drink, being poured out of a cup into a glafs, by filling the one doth empty the other: For all your writers do confent, that ipfe is he; now you are not ipfe, for I am he.

Will. Which he, fir.

Clo. He, fir, that must marry this woman: Therefore, you, clown, abandon,-which is in the vulgar, leave,the fociety, which in the boorish is, company,-of this female,-which in the common is,-woman,-which together is, abandon the fociety of this female; or, clown, thou perishest; or, to thy better understanding, diest; or, to wit, I kill thee, make thee away, tranflate thy life into death, thy liberty into bondage: I will deal in poifon with thee, or in bastinado, or in fteel; I will bandy with thee in faction; I will over-run thee with policy; I will kill thee a hundred and fifty ways; therefore tremble, and depart.

Aud. Do, good William.
Will. God rest you merry, fir.

Enter Corin.

[Exit.

Cor. Our mafter and miftrefs feek you; come, away,

away.

Clo. Trip, Audrey, trip, Audrey; I attend, I attend.

[Exeunt.

SCENE II.

Enter Orlando, and Oliver.

Orla. Is't poffible, that on fo little acquaintance you should like her? that, but feeing, you fhould love her?

and,