Ros. [Reads] Why, thy godhead laid apart, Warr'st thou with a woman's heart? Did you ever hear such railing? Whiles the eye of man did woo me, Meaning me a beast. If the scorn of your bright eyne Have power to raise such love in mine, 50 Alack, in me what strange effect Would they work in mild aspect! Whiles you chid me, I did love; Of me and all that I can make: Sil. Call you this chiding? Cel. Alas, poor shepherd! 60 Ros. Do you pity him? no, he deserves no pity. Wilt thou love such a woman? What, to make thee an instrument and play false strains upon thee! not to be endured! Well, go your way to her, for I see love hath made thee a tame snake, and say 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 Silvius. Enter OLIVER. Oli. Good morrow, fair ones: pray you, if you know, Where in the purlieus of this forest stands A sheep-cote fenced about with olive trees? 75 Cel. West of this place, down in the neighbour bottom: The rank of osiers by the murmuring stream Left on your right hand brings you to the place. Oli. If that an eye may profit by a tongue, Like a ripe sister: the woman low And browner than her brother.' Are not you Cel. It is no boast, being ask'd, to say we are. Ros. I am: what must we understand by this? Cel. I pray you, tell it. Oli. When last the young Orlando parted from you He left a promise to return again Within an hour, and pacing through the forest, 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 A wretched ragged man, o'ergrown with hair, A lioness, with udders all drawn dry, Lay couching, head on ground, with catlike watch, When that the sleeping man should stir; for 'tis To prey on nothing that doth seem as dead: This seen, Orlando did approach the man And found it was his brother, his elder brother. Cel. O, I have heard him speak of that same brother; And he did render him the most unnatural That lived amongst men. Oli. And well he might so do, For well I know he was unnatural. Ros. But, to Orlando: did he leave him there, Food to the suck'd and hungry lioness? Oli. Twice did he turn his back and purposed so; But kindness, nobler ever than revenge, And nature, stronger than his just occasion, Made him give battle to the lioness, Who quickly fell before him: in which hurtling Cel. Are you his brother? Ros. Was 't you he rescued? Cel. Was 't 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, since my conversion So sweetly tastes, being the thing I am. Ros. But, for the bloody napkin ? Oli. In brief, he led me to the gentle duke, Who led me instantly unto his cave, There stripp'd himself, and here upon his arm Which all this while had bled; and now he fainted F 121 130 140 And cried, in fainting, upon Rosalind. Brief, I recover'd him, bound up his wound; And, after some small space, being strong at heart, 150 He sent me hither, stranger as I am, To tell this story, that you might excuse His broken promise, and to give this napkin That he in sport doth call his Rosalind. [Rosalind swoons. Oli. Look, he recovers. Ros. I would I were at home. Cel. We'll lead you thither. I pray you, will you take him by the arm? 161 Oli. Be of good cheer, youth: you a man! you lack a man's heart. Ros. I do so, I confess it. Ah, sirrah, 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 passion of earnest. Ros. Counterfeit, I assure you. Oli. Well then, take a good heart and counterfeit to be 171 a man. Ros. 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 excuse my brother, Rosalind. Ros. I shall devise something: but, I pray you, commend my counterfeiting to him. Will you go? [Exeunt. ACT V. SCENE I. The forest. Enter TOUCHSTONE and AUDREY. Touch. We shall find a time, Audrey; patience, gentle Audrey. Aud. Faith, the priest was good enough, for all the old gentleman's saying. Touch. A most wicked Sir Oliver, Audrey, a most vile Martext. 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. 9 Touch. It is meat and drink to me to see a clown: by my troth, we that have good wits have much to answer for; we shall be flouting; we cannot hold. Enter WILLIAM. Will. Good even, Audrey. Aud. God ye good even, William. Will. And good even to you, sir. Touch. Good even, gentle friend. thy head; nay, prithee, be covered. friend? Will. Five and twenty, sir. Cover thy head, cover How old are you, Touch. A ripe age.. Is thy name William ? Will. William, sir. Touch. A fair name. Wast born i' the forest here? Will. Ay, sir, I thank God. Touch. Thank God'; a good answer. Art rich? Will. Faith, sir, so so. 20 Touch. 'So so' is good, very good, very excellent good; and yet it is not; it is but so so. Art thou wise? |