Some of violated vows, 'Twixt the fouls of friend and friend; Or at every fentence end, Teaching all, that read, to know, Sad Lucretia's modesty. By heav'nly fynod was devis'd; Of many faces, eyes and hearts, To have the touches deareft priz'd. Heav'n would that she these gifts should have, Rof. O moft gentle Jupiter!-what tedious homily of love have you wearied your parishioners wi:hal, and never cry'd, have patience, good people? Cel. How now? back-friends! fhepherd, go off a little: Go with him, firrah. Clo. Come, fhepherd, let us make an honourable retreat; though not with bag and baggage, yet with scrip. and fcrippage. [Exeunt Cor. and Clown. Cel. Didit thou hear thefe verfest Rof. O yes, I heard them all, and more too; for fome of them had in them more feet than the verfes would bear.. Gel. That's no matter; the feet might bear the verses. Rof. Ay, but the feet were lame, and could not bear themselves without the verse, and therefore stood lamely in the verse. Cel. But didft thou hear without wondring, how thy name should be hang'd and carv'd upon thefe trees? Rof I was feven of the nine days out of wonder, before you came: For, look here, what I found on a palmtree; I was never fo be-rhimed fince Pythagoras's time, that I was an Irish rat, which can hardly remember. Gel, Tro you, who hath done this? Rof. Is it a man? Cel. And a chain, that you once wore, about his neck: Change you colour? Rof. I pr'ythee, wha? Cel. O Lord, Lord, it is a hard matter for friends to meet; but mountains may be removed with earthquakes, and fo encounter. Rof. Nay, but who is it? Cel. Is it poffible? Ref. Nay, I pr'ythee now, with most petitionary vehemence, tell me who it is. Cel. O wonderful, wonderful, and moft wonderful wonderful, and yet again wonderful, and after that out of all whooping Rof. (15) Odd's, my complexion doft thou think, though I am caparifon'd like a man, I have a doublet and hofe in my difpofition? (16) One inch of delay more is a South-fea off difcovery. I pr'ythee, tell me, who is it; quickly, and fpeak apace; I would thou could'st ftammer, that thou might'it pour this concealed man out of thy mouth, as wine comes out of a narrow-mouth'd bottle; either too much at once, or none at all. I pr'ythee, take the cork out of thy mouth, that I may drink thy tidings. (15) Good my complexion, doft thou think, &c.] This is a mode of expreffion, that I could not reconcile to common fenfe; I have therefore ventur by a flight change to read, Odd's, my complexion! fo, in another scene of this comedy, Rofalind again fays; And again; Odd's, my little life! -'Odd's, my will! Her love is not the bare that I do hunt. (16) One inch of delay more is a South-fea of discovery ;] A fouth-fea of discovery: This is stark nonsense; we must read-off difcovery. i, e. from difcovery. "If you delay me one inch of time longer I fhall think this fecret as far from difcovery as the South-fea is." Cel Cel. So you may put a man in your belly. Rof. Is he of God's making? what manner of man? is his head worth a hat? or his chin worth a beard? Cel. Nay, he hath but a little beard... Rof. Why, God will fend more, if the man will be thankful; let me ftay the growth of his beard, if thou delay me not the knowledge of his chin. Cel. It is young Orlando, that tripp'd up the wrestler's heels and your heart both in an inftant. Rof. Nay, but the devil take mocking; speak, fad brow, and true maid. Cel. I'faith, coz, 'tis he. Rof. Orlando! Cel. Orlando. Rof. Alas the day, what fhall I do with my doublet and hofe? what did he, when thou faw'ft him? what faid he how look'd he? wherein went he? what makes he here? did he ask for me? where remains he? how parted he with thee? and when fhalt thou fee him again? anfwer me in one word. Cel. You must borrow me Garagantua's mouth firft; 'tis a word too great for any mouth of this age's fize: To fay, ay, and no, to these particulars, is more than to answer in a catechism. Rof. But doth he know that I am in this foreft, and in man's apparel? looks he as freshly as he did the day he wreftled? Cel. It is as easy to count atoms, as to refolve the propofitions of a lover: But take a taste of my finding him, and relish it with good obfervance. I found him under a tree like a dropp'd acorn. Rf. It may well be call'd Jove's tree, when it drops forth fuch fruit. Cel. Give me audience, good madam. Rof. Proceed. Cel.There lay he ftretch'd along like a wounded Knight. Rof. Though it be pity to fee fuch a fight, it well becomes the ground. Cel. Cry, holla! to thy tongue, I'pr'ythee; it curvess unfeafonably. He was furnifh'd like a hunter. Ref Ros. O ominous, he comes to kill my heart. Cel. I would fing my fong without a burden; thou bring'ft me out of tune. Rof. Do you not know I am a woman? when I think, I must speak: fweet, fay one Enter Orlando and Jaques. 1 Cel. You bring me out. Soft, comes he not here? Rof. 'Tis he; flink by and note him. [Cel. and Rof. retire. Jaq. I thank you for your company; but, good faith, I had as lief have been myself alone. Orla. And fo had I; but yet for fashion fake, I thank you too for your fociety. Jay. God b'w' you, let's meet as little as we can. Fag. I pray you, marr no more trees with writing love-fongs in their barks. Orla. (17) I pray you, marr no more of my verfes with reading them ill-favouredly. Jaq Rafalind, is your love's name? Orla. Yes, juft. 15 Faqe do not like her name. T Orla. There was no thought of pleafing you, when he was chriften'd. Jaq. What ftature is she of? Orla. Just as high as my heart. 7 Faq. You are full of pretty anfwers; have you not been acquainted with goldfmiths wives, and conn'd them out of rings? " Orla. Not fo: (18) but I answer you right painted cloth, from whence you have ftudied your questions. Jag (17) pray you, marr no more of my verfes with reading them illfavouredly] The poet feems to have had in his eye this diftich of Martial; Lib. I. Epigr. 39. L Quem recitas, meus eft, a Fidentine, libellus 30. Sed malè dum recitas, incipit effe tuus. (18) But I answer you right painted cloth.] This alludes to the fashion, in old tapestry hangings, of motto's and moral fentences from the Jaq. You have a nimble wit; I think, it was made of Atalanta's heels. Will you fit down with me, and we two will rail against our mistress, the world, and all oùr mifery. Orla. I will chide no breather in the world but myself, against whom I know moft faults. Jaq. The worst fault you have, is to be in love. Orla. 'Tis a fault I will not change for your best virtue; I am weary of you. Jaq. By my troth, I was feeking for a fool, when I found you. Orla. He is drown'd in the brook; look but in, and you fhall fee him. faq. There I fhall fee mine own figure. Orla. Which I take to be either a fool, or a cypher. Faq. I'll ftay no longer with you; farewel, good Signior love! [Exit. Orla. I am glad of your departure; adieu, good Monfieur melancholy ! [Cel. and Rof come forward. Rof. I will fpeak to him like a fawcy lacquey, and under that habit play the knave with him: Do you hear, forefter ? Orla. Very well; what would you? Rof. I pray you, what is't a clock? Orla. You fhould ask me, what time o' day; there's no clock in the forest. Ref. Then there is no true lover in the forest; else, fighing every minute, and groaning every hour, would detect the lazy foot of time, as well as a clock. Orla. And why not the swift foot of time? had not that been as proper? Rof. By no means, Sir time travels in divers paces, with divers perfons; I'll tell you who time ambles withal, who time trots withal, who time gallops withal, and who he ftands ftill withal ? Orla. I pr'ythee, whom doth he trot withal? the mouths of the figures work'd or painted in them. The poet again hints at this cuftom in his poem, call'd, Tarquin and Lucrece: Who fears a fentence, or an old man's faw, Shall by a painted cloth be kept in awe. Rof. |