And to that youth, he calls his Rosalind, 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, Under an oak, whofe boughs were mofs'd with age, A wretched ragged man, o'er-grown with hair, A green and gilded fnake had wreath'd itself, And with indented glides did flip away 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 fpeak 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 : Made Made him give battel 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 fo oft contrive to kill him ? Oli. 'Twas I; but 'tis not I; I do not shame To tell you what I was, fince my converfion So fweetly taftes, being the thing I am. Oli. By and by. When from the first to laft, betwixt us two, In brief, he led me to the gentle Duke, There ftrip'd himself, and here upon his arm Which all this while had bled; and now he fainted, And cry'd in fainting upon Rofalind. Brief, I recover'd him; bound up his wound; To tell this ftory, that you might excufe 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. will you take him by the arm? I pray you, Oli. Be of good cheer, youth; you a man? you a man's heart. lack Rof. I do fo, I confefs 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 teftimony in your complection, that it was a paflion 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 wcman 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 anfwer back, How you excufe my brother, Rofalind. Roj. I fhall devife fomething; but, I pray you, commend my counterfeiting to him: Will you go? [Exeunt. E fhall find a time, Audrey; patience, gentle WR 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 forest lays claim to you. Aud. Ay, I know who 'tis, he hath no intereft 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 anfwer for: We thall be flouting we cannot hold. Will. Good ev'n, Audrey. Aud. God ye good ev'n, William. Will. And good ev'n to you, Sir. Clo. Good ev❜n, gentle friend. Cover thy head, cover thy head; nay, pr'ythee, be cover'd. How old are you, friend? Will. Five and twenty, Sir. Clo. A ripe age: Is thy name William? Will. William, Sir. Clo. A fair name. Waft born i' th' forest here? Clo. Thank God: A good anfwer: Art rich? Will 'Faith, Sir, fo, fo. Clo. So fo, is good, very good, very excellent good; and yet it is not; it is but fo, fo. Art thou wife? Will. Ay, Sir, I have a pretty wit. Clo. Why, thou fay'ft well: I do now remember a faying; the fool doth think he is wife, but the wife man knows himself to be a fool. (25) The heathen philosopher, 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 made to eat, and lips to open. You do love this maid? Will. I do, Sir. Clo. Give me your hand: Art thou learned? Will. No, Sir. 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, Sir? this woman therefore (25) The heathen philofopher, when he had a defign to eat a grape.] This is certainly defign'd as a fneer on the feveral trifling, infignificant, actions and fayings, recorded in the lives of the Philofophers as things of great moment. We need only reflect upon what we meet with in Diogenes Laertius, to be, of this opinion: Efpecially, when we obferve that it is introduced by one of their wife fayings that precedes it. Mr. Warburton. you, 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 perifheft; or, to thy better understanding, dieft; 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 fleel; I will bandy with thee in faction; I will o'er-run thee with policy; I will kill thee a hundred and fifty ways; therefore tremble and depart. Aud. Do, good William. Enter Corin. [Exit. Cor. Our master and miftrefs feek you; come away, away. Clo. Trip, Audrey; trip, Audrey; I attend, I attend. [Exe. Enter Orlando and Oliver. Orla. Is't poffible, that on fo little acquaintance you hould like her? that, but feeing, you fhould love her? and loving, woo? and wooing, she should grant? and will you perfevere to enjoy her? Oli. Neither call the giddinefs of it in question, the poverty of her, the fmall acquaintance, my fudden wooing, nor her fudden confenting; but fay with me, I love Aliena; fay with her, that fhe loves me; confent with both, that we may enjoy each other; it fhall be to your good; for my father's houfe, and all the revenue that was old Sir Rowland's, will I eftate upon you, and here live and die a fhepherd. Enter Rofalind. Orla. You have my confent. Let your wedding be to-morrow; thither will I invite the Duke, and all his contented followers: Go you, and prepare Aliena; for, look you, here comes my Rofalind. Raf God fave you, brother. O And you, fair fifter. Rof. |