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Helen's cheek, but not her heart i

Ros. Nay, no mocking; speak sad brow, and Cleopatra's majesty ;

true maid.s
Atalanta's better part;

Cel. l' faith, coz, 'tis he.
Sad Lucretia's modesty.

Ros. Orlando?
Thus Rosalind of many parts

Cel. Orlando.
By heavenly synod was devis'di

Ros. Alas the day! what shall I do with my
Of many faces, eyes, and hearts,

doublet and hose? - What did he, when thou saw'st To have the touches 7 dearest priz'd. him? What said he ? How look'd he? Wherein Heaven would that she these gists should have, went he ? 9 What makes he here? Did he ask for And I to live and die her slave.

me? Where remains he? How parted he with thee? Ros. O most gentle Jupiter ! — what tedious and when shalt thou see him again? Answer me in homily of love have you wearied your parishioners one word. withal, and never cry'd, Have patience, good people !

Cel. You must borrow me Garagantua's ' mouth Cel. How now! back friends; Shepherd, go

first : 'tis a word too great for any mouth of this off a little: - Go with him, sirrah.

age's size : To say, ay, and no, to these particulars, Touch. Come, shepherd, let us make an honour- is more than to answer in a catechism. able retreat ; though not with bag and baggage, yet and in man's apparel ? Looks he as freshly as he did

Ros. But doth he know that I am in this forest, with scrip and scrippage.

[Exeunt Corin and Touchstone. the day he wrestled ? Cel. Didst thou hear these verses?

Cel. It is as easy to count atomies !, as to resolve

but take a taste of Ros. O yes, I heard them all, and more too; for the propositions of a lover :soine of them had in them more feet than the verses

my finding him, and relish it with a good observance, would bear.

I found him under a tree, like a dropp'd acorn. Cel. That's no matter; the feet might bear the

Ros. It may well be called Jove's tree, when it

drops forth such fruit. Ros. Ay, but the feet were lame, and could not Cel. Give me audience, good madam. bear themselves without the verse, and therefore stood

Ros. Proceed. lamely in the verse.

Cel. There lay he, stretch'd along like a wounded Cel. But didst thou hear, without wondering how knight. thy name should be hang’d and carved upon these

Ros. Though it be pity to see such a sight, it trees?

well becomes the ground. Ros. I was seven of the nine days out of the Cel. Cry, holla! to thy tongue, I pr’ythee; it wonder, before you came ; for look here what I curvets very unseasonably. Ile was furnish'd like found on a palm-tree : I was never so be-rhymed a hunter. since Pythagoras' time, that I was an Irish rat,

Ros. O ominous! he comes to kill my heart. which I can hardly remember.

Cel. I would sing my song without a burden : Cel. Trow you, who hath done this?

thou bring'st me out of tune. Ros. Is it a man?

Ros. Do you not know I am a woman? when I Cel. And a chain, that you once wore, about his think, I must speak. Sweet, say on. neck : Change you colour ? Ros. I pr’ythee, who?

Enter ORLANDO and JAQUES. Cel. O lord, lord ! it is a hard matter for friends Cel. You bring me out: Soft! comes he not to meet : but mountains may be removed with earth- here? quakes, and so encounter.

Ros. "Tis he; slink by, and note him. Ros. Nay, but who is it?

(Celia and Rosalind retire. Cel. Is it possible ?

Jaq. I thank you for your company; but, good Ros. Nay, I pray thee now, with most petitionary faith, I had as lief have been myself alone. vehemence, tell me who it is.

Orl. And so had I ; but yet, for fashion sake, I Cel. O wonderful, wonderful, and most wonder- thank you too for your society. ful wonderful, and yet again wonderful, and after Jaq. Peace be with you ; let's meet as little as that out of all whooping!

Ros. Good my complexion! dost thou think, Orl. I do desire we may be better strangers. though I am caparison'd like a man, I have a doublet Jaq. I pray you, mar no more trees with writing and hose in my disposition ? One inch of delay more love-songs in their barks. is a South-sea-off discovery. I pr’ythee, tell me, Orl. I pray you, mar no more of my verses with who is it? quickly, and speak apace : I would thou reading them ill-favouredly. couldst stammer, that thou mightst pour this con- Jaq. Rosalind is your love's name? cealed man out of thy mouth, as wine comes out of Orl. Yes, just narrow-mouth'd bottle ; either too much at once, or Jaq. I do not like her name. none at all. I pr’ythee take the cork out of thy Orl. There was no thought of pleasing you, when mouth, that I may drink thy tidings. What man- she was christen'd. ner of man? Is his head worth a hat, or his chin Jag. What stature is she of? worth a beard?

Orl. Just as high as my heart. Cel. Nay, he hath but a little beard.

Jaq. You are full of pretty answers : Have you Ros. Why, let me stay the growth of his beard, not been acquainted with goldsmiths' wives, and if thou delay me not the knowledge of his chin. conn'd them out of rings?

Cel. It is young Orlando; that tripp'd up the Orl. Not so; but I answer you right painted wrestler's heels, and your heart, both in an instant.

8 Speak seriously and hor.estly. 9 How was he dressed ? 7 Features

Į The giant of Rabelais.

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found you.

cloth 3 from whence you have studied your ques- Orl. Your accent is something finer than you tions.

could purchase in so removed a dwelling. Jaq. You have a nimble wit; I think it was made Ros. I have been told so of many : but, indeed, of Atalanta's heels. Will you sit down with me? an old religious uncle of mine taught me to speak, and we two will rail against our mistress the world, who was in his youth an in-land man; one that and all our misery.

knew courtship too well, for there he fell in love. I Onl. I will chide no breather in the world, but have heard him read many lectures against it ; and myself; against whom I know most faults.

I thank fortune, I am not a woman, to be touch'd Jaq. The worst fault you have, is to be in love. with so many giddy offences as he hath generally

Ori. 'Tis a fault I will not change for your best tax’d their whole sex withal.
I am weary


Orl. Can you remember any of the principal evils, Jaq. By my troth, I was seeking for a fool, when I that he laid to the charge of women ?

Ros. There were none principal; they were all Orl. He is drown'd in the brook; look but in, like one another, as half-pence are : every one fault and you shall see him.

seeming monstrous, till his fellow fault came to Jaq. There shall I see mine own figure.

match it. Ori. Which I take to be either a fool, or a Orl. I pr'ythee recount some of them. cipher.

Ros. No; I will not cast away my physick, but Jaq. I'll tarry no longer with you : farewell, good on those that are sick. There is a man haunts the signior love.

forest, that abuses our young plants with carving Orl. I am glad of your departure; adieu, good Rosalind on their barks; hangs odes upon hawthorns, monsieur melancholy.

and elegies on brambles; all, forsooth, deifying the [Erit JAQUES. CELIA and RoSALIND name of Rosalind : if I could meet that fancycome forward.

monger, I would give him some good counsel, for he Ros. I will speak to him like a saucy lacquey, seems to have the quotidian of love upon him. and under that habit play the knave with him. - Orl. I am he that is so love-shaked; I pray you, Do you hear, forester?

tell me your remedy. Orl. Very well; what would you ?

Ros. There is none of my uncle's marks upon you: Ros. I pray you, what is't a clock ?

he taught me how to know a man in love ; in which Orl. You should ask me what time o'day; there's cage of rushes, I am sure, you are not prisoner. no clock in the forest.

Orl. What were his marks? Ros. Then there is no true lover in the forest; Ros. A lean cheek; which you have not: a blue else sighing every minute, and groaning every hour, eye, and sunken; which you have not: an unwould detect the lazy foot of time, as well as a clock. questionable spirit 4 ; which you have not: a beard Orl. And why not the swift foot of time? had not neglected ; which you have not:

but I pardon you that been as proper ?

for that; for, simply, your having 5 in beard is a Rus. By no means, sir : Time travels in divers younger brother's revenue : - Then your hose should paces with divers persons: I'll tell you who time be ungarter'd, your bonnet unbanded, your sleeve ambles withal, who time trots withal, who time unbuttoned, your shoe untied, and every thing about gallops withal, and who he stands still withal. you demonstrating a careless desolation. But you Orl. I pr’ythee, who doth he trot withal ?

are no such man ; you are rather point-device 6 in Ros. Marry, he trots hard with a young maid, your accoutrements; as loving yourself, than seembetween the contract of her marriage, and the day ing the lover of any other. it is solemnized : if the interim be but a se'nnight, Orl. Fair youth, I would I could make thee betime's pace is so hard that it seems the length of lieve I love. seven years.

Ros. Me believe it? you may as soon make her Orl. Who ambles time withal ?

that you love believe it ; which, I warrant, she is Ros. With a priest that lacks Latin, and a rich apter to do, than to confess she does : that is one of man that hath not the gout; for the one sleeps the points in the which women still give the lie to easily, because he cannot study; and the other lives their consciences. But, in good sooth, are you he merrily, because he feels no pain : the one lacking that hangs the verses on the trees, wherein Rosalind the burden of lean and wasteful learning; the other is so admired ? knowing no burden of heavy tedious penury: These Orl. I swear to thee, youth, by the white hand of time ambles withal.

Rosalind, I am that he, that unfortunate he. Orl. Who doth he gallop withal ?

Ros. But are you so much in love as your rhymes Ros. With a thief to the gallows; for though he speak ? go as softly as foot can fall, he thinks himself too Orl. Neither rhyme nor reason can express how soon there.

much. Orl. Who stays it still withal ?

Ros. Love is merely a madness; and, I tell you, Ros. With lawyers in the vacation : for they sleep deserves as well a dark house and a whip, as madbetween term and term, and then they perceive not men do: and the reason why they are not so punishhow time moves.

ed and cured, is, that the lunacy is so ordinary, that Orl. Where dwell you pretty youth?

the whippers are in love too: Yet I profess curing Ros. With this shepherdess, my sister; here in the it by counsel. skirts of the forest.

Örl. Did you ever cure any so? Orl. Are you a native of this place?

Ros. Yes, one; and in this manner. He was to Ros. As the rabbit, that you see dwell where she imagine me his love, his mistress; and I set him is kindled.

every day to woo me: At which time would I, being 3 An allusion to the moral sentences issuing from the mouths 4 A spirit averse to conversation,

Estate, of figures on old tapestry hangirgs.

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Woo me.

but a moonish 7 youth, grieve, be effeminate, change- Touch. Well, praised be the gods for thy foulness ! able, longing, and liking; proud, fantastical, apish, sluttishness may come hereafter. But be as it may shallow, inconstant, full of tears, full of smiles; for be, I will marry thee: and to that end, I have been every passion something, and for no passion truly with sir Oliver Mar-text, the vicar of the next vilany thing, as boys and women are for the most part lage; who hath promised to meet me in this place cattle of this colour ; would now like him, now of the forest, and to couple us. loath him; then entertain him, then forswear him; Jaq. I would fain see this meeting. [Aside. now weep for him, then laugh at him, that I drave Aud. Well, the gods give us joy ! my suitor from his mad humour of love, to a living Touch. Amen. A man may, if he were of a fearhumour of madness; which was, to forswear the full ful heart, stagger in this attempt; for here we have stream of the world, and to live in a nook merely no temple but the wood, no assembly but hornmonastick: And thus I cured him; and this way beasts. But what though? Courage! As horns are will I take upon me to wash your liver as clean as odious, they are necessary. It is said, — Many a man a sound sheep's heart, that there shall not be one knows no end of his goods : right; many a man hias spot of love in't.

good horns, and knows no end of them. Well, that Orl. I would not be cured, youth.

is the dowry of his wife ; 'tis none of his own getting. Ros. I would cure you, if you would but call | Horns ? Even so: — Poor men alone; - No, me Rosalind, and come every day to my cote, and no; the noblest deer hath them as huge as the

rascal. ? Is the single man therefore blessed ? No: Orl. Now by the faith of my love, I will ; tell me as a wall'd town is more worthier than a village, so where it is.

is the forehead of a married man more honourable Ros. Go with me to it, and I'll show it you ; than the bare brow of a bachelor : and by how much and, by the way, you shall tell me where in the defence 3 is better than no skill, by so much is a forest you live: Will you go?

horn more precious than to want. Orl. With all my heart, good youth. Ros. Nay, you must call me Rosalind : - Come,

Enter Sir Oliver MAR-TEXT. sister, will you go?

[Exount. Here comes sir Oliver : – - Sir Oliver Mar-text, you

are well met : Will you despatch us here under this SCENE III. The same.

tree, or shall we go with you to your chapel ?

Sir Oli. Is there none here to give the woman ? Enter TouchSTONE and AUDREY ; JAQUES at a

Touch. I will not take her on gift of any man. distance, observing them.

Sir Oli. Truly, she must be given, or the marTouch. Come apace, good Audrey: I will fetch riage is not lawful. up your goats, Audrey: And how, Audrey ? am

Jaq. [Discovering himself.] Proceed, proceed; I the man yet? Doth my simple feature content you? I'll give her. Aud. Your features! what features ?

Touch. Good even, good master What
Touch. I am here with thee and thy goats, as the How do you, sir? You are very well met: I am
most capricious poet, honest Ovid, was among the very glad to see you : — - Even a toy in hand here,

Nay; pray be cover'd.
Jaq. O knowledge ill-inhabited ! 8 worse than Jaq. Will you be married, motley ?
Jove in a thatch'd house !

[Aside. Touch. As the ox hath his bow , sir, the horse Touch. When a man's verses cannot be under his curb, and the falcon her bells, so man hath his stood, nor a man's good wit seconded with the for- desire towards wedlock. ward child, understanding, it strikes a man more Jaq. And will you, being a man of your breeding, dead than a great reckoning in a little room : - be married under a bush, like a beggar? Get you to Truly, I would the gods had made thee poetical. church, and have a good priest that can tell you

Aud. I do not know what poetical is : Is it honest what marriage is: this fellow will but join you toin deed, and word ? Is it a true thing?

gether as they join wainscot; then one of you will Touch. No, truly; for the truest poetry is the prove a shrunk pannel, and, like green timber, most feigning; and lovers are given to poetry;


warp, warp. what they swear in poetry, may be said, as lovers, Touch. I am not in the mind but I were better they do feign.

to be married of him than of another : for he is not Aud. Do you wish then, that the gods had made like to marry me well ; and not being well married, me poetical ?

it will be a good excuse for me hereafter to leave Touch. I do, truly: for thou swearest to me, my wife.

(Aside. thou art honest; now, if thou wert a poet, I might Jaq. Go thou with me, and let me counsel thee. have some hope thou didst feign.

Touch. Come, sweet Audrey ; Aud. Would you not have me honest ?

Farewell, good master Oliver ! Touch. No, truly, unless thou wert hard-favour'd:

Not - O sweet Oliver, for honesty coupled to beauty, is to have honey a

O brave Oliver, sauce to sugar.

Leave me not behi' thee; Jaq. A material fool! 9

[ Aside.

But- Wind away, Aud. Well, I am not fair; and therefore I pray

Begone, I say, the gods make me honest! Touch. Truly, and to cast away honesty upon a

I will

not to wedding wi' thee. foul slut, were to put good meat into an unclean dish.

[Exeunt JAQ. Touch. and AUDRET. Aud. I am not a slut, though I thank the gods Sir Oli. 'Tis no matter ; ne'er a fantastical knave I am foul. 1

of them all shall flout me out of my calling. (Erit. 7 Variable, 8 III-lodged.

ye call't :

sir :

3 The art of fencing. 9 A fool with matter in him

| Homely.

4 Yoke.

2 Lean deer are called rascal deer.

fore weep:


SCENE IV. - Before a Cottage. Thou tell'st me, there is murder in mine eye:

'Tis pretty, sure, and very probable, Enler Rosalind and CELIA.

That eyes, – that are the frail'st and softest things, Ros. Never talk to me, I will weep.

Who shut their coward gates on atomies, – Cel. Do, I pr’ythee; but yet have the grace to should be call’d tyrants, butchers, murderers ! consider, that tears do not become a man.

Now I do frown on thee with all my heart : Ros. But have I not cause to weep?

And, if mine eyes can wound, now let them kill thee; Cel. As good cause as one would desire; there- Now counterfeit to swoon ; why now fall down;

Or, if thou canst not, 0, for shame, for shame, Ros. Why did he swear he would come this morn- Lie not, to say mine eyes are murderers. ing, and comes not?

Now show the wound mine eye hath made in thee: Cel. Nay certainly, there is no truth in him. Scratch thee but with a pin, and there remains Ros. Do you think so?

Some scar of it; lean but upon a rush, Cel. Yes: I think he is not a pick-purse, nor a The cicatrice and capable impressure horse-stealer ; but for his verity in love, I do think Thy palm some moment keeps: but now mine eyes, him as concave as a cover'd goblet, or a worm- Which I have darted at thee, hurt thee not; eaten dut.

Nor, I am sure, there is no force in eyes Ros. Not true in love?

That can do hurt. Cel. Yes, when he is in ; but, I think he is not in. Sil.

O dear Phebe, Ros. You have heard him swear downright, he was. If ever, (as that ever may be near,)

Cel. Was is not is : besides the oath of a lover You meet in some fresh cheek the power of fancy 6 is no stronger than the word of a tapster ; they are Then shall you know the wounds invisible both the confirmers of false reckonings : He attends That love's keen arrows make. here in the forest on the duke your father.


But, till that time, Ros. I met the duke yesterday, and had much Come not thou near me; and, when that time comes, question with bim : He asked me, of what parentAfflict me with thy mocks, pity me not ; age I was: I told him, of as good as he ; so he As, till that time, I shall not pity thee. laugh’d, and let me go. But what talk we of fathers, Ros. And why, I pray you? (Advancing.] Who when there is such a man as Orlando?

might be your mother, Cel. O, that's a brave man! he writes brave | That you insult, exult, and all at once, verses, speaks brave words, swears brave oaths, and Over the wretched ? What though you have more breaks them bravely, quite traverse, athwart the

beauty, heart of his lover; as a puny tilter, that spurs his (As, by my faith, I see no more in you horse but on one side, breaks his staff like a noble Than witliout candle may go dark to bed,) goose; but all's brave, that youth mounts, and folly Must you be therefore proud and pitiless ? guides :- Who comes here?

Why; what means this? Why do you look on me ?

I see no more in you, than in the ordinary
Enter Corin.

Of nature's sale-work: Od's my little life! Cor. Mistress, and master, you have oft enquired I think, she means to tangle my eyes too : After the shepherd that complain'd of love; No, faith, proud mistress, hope not after it; Who you saw sitting by me on the turf,

'Tis not your inky brows, your black silk hair, Praising the proud disdainful shepherdess

Your bugle eye-balls, nor your cheek of cream, That was his mistress.

That can entame my spirits to your worship.
Well, and what of him ?

You foolish shepherd, wherefore do you follow her, Cor. If you will see a pageant truly play'd, Like foggy south, puffing with wind and rain ? Between the pale complexion of true love

You are a thousand times a properer man, And the red glow of scorn and proud disdain, Than she a woman : 'Tis such fools as you, Go hence a little, and I shall conduct you,

That make the world full of ill-favour'd children: If you will mark it.

'Tis not her glass, but you that flatters her ; Ros.

O, come, let us remove; And out of you she sees herself more proper, The sight of lovers feedeth those in love :

Than any of her lineaments can show her. Bring us unto this sight, and you shall say But, mistress, know yourself; down on your knees, I'll prove a busy actor in their play (Exeunt. And thank heaven, fasting, for a good man's love :

For I must tell you friendly in your ear, SCENE V. - Another Part of the Forest. Sell when you can; you are not for all markets :

Cry the man mercy; love him ; take his offer; Enter Silvius and Phele.

Foul is most foul, being foul to be a scoffer. Sil. Sweet Phebe, do not scorn me; do not, Phebe: So take her to thee, shepherd ; — fare you well. Say, that you love me not; but say not so

Phe. Sweet youth, I pray you chide a year toIn bitterness : The common executioner,

gether; Whose heart the accustom'd sight of death makes I had rather hear you chide, than this man woo. hard,

Ros. He's fallen in love with her foulness, and Falls not the axe upon the humbled neck,

she'll fall in love with my anger: If it be so, as But first begs pardon : Will you sterner be fast as she answers thee with frowning looks, I'll Than he that dies and lives by bloody drops ?

sauce her with bitter words. — Why look you so Enter Rosalind, CELIA, and Corin, at a distance.

Phe. For no ill will I bear you. Phe. I would not be thy executioner ;

Ros. I pray you, do not fall in love with me, I Ay thee, for I would not injure thee.

For I am falser than vows made in wine :

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Besides, I like you not: If you will know my house, Sil. Not very well, but I have met him oft ; 'Tis at the tuft of olives, here hard by :

And he hath bought the cottage, and the bounds, Will you go, sister ? — Shepherd, ply her hard : That the old carlot 8 once was master of. Come, sister :- Shepherdess, look on him better, Phe. Think not I love him, though I ask for him; And be not proud : though all the world could see, 'Tis but a peevisho boy:- yet he talks well ; None could be so abus'd in sight as he.

But what care I for words? yet words do well, Come to our flock.

When he that speaks them pleases those that hear (Ereunt Rosalind, Celia, and Corin. It is a pretty youth: : - not very pretty : — Phe. Dead shepherd! now I find thy saw of might; But, sure, he's proud; and yet his pride becomes him ; Who ever lov'd, that lov'd not at first sight?

He'll make a proper man : the best thing in him Sil. Sweet Phebe,

Is his complexion; and faster than his tongue Phe.

Ha! what say'st thou, Silvius? Did make offence, his eye did heal it up. Si. Sweet Phebe, pity me.

He is not tall ; yet for his years he's tall : Phe. Why, I am sorry for thee, gentle Silvius. His leg is but so so; and yet 'tis well :

Sil. Wherever sorrow is, relief would be ; There was a pretty redness in his lip; If you do sorrow at my grief in love,

A little riper and more lusty red By giving love, your sorrow and my grief Than that mix'd in his cheek; 'twas just the Were both extermin'd.

difference Phe. Thou hast my love: Is not that neighbourly? Betwixt the constant red, and mingled damask. Sil. I would have you.

There be some women, Silvius, had they mark'd him Phe.

Why, that were covetousness. In parcels as I did, would have gone near Silvius, the time was, that I hated thee;

To fall in love with him : but, for my part, And yet it is not, that I bear thee love :

I love him not, nor hate him not; and yet But, since that thou canst talk of love so well, I have more cause to hate him than to love him : Thy company, which erst was irksome to me, For what had he to do to chide at me ? I will endure ; and I'll employ thee too :

He said, mine eyes were black, and my hair black; But do not look for further recompense,

And, now I am remember'd, scorn'd at me:
Than thine own gladness that thou art employ’d. I marvel, why I answer'd not again :
Sil. So holy, and so perfect is my love,

But that's all one; omittance is no quittance. And I in such a poverty of grace,

I'll write to him a very taunting letter, That I shall think it a most plenteous crop

And thou shalt bear it: Wilt thou, Silvius? To glean the broken ears after the man

Sil. Phebe, with all my heart. That the main harvest reaps : lose now and then Phe.

I'll write it straight ; A scatter'd smile, and that I'll live upon.

The matter's in my head, and in my heart : Phe. Know'st thou the youth that spoke to me I will be bitter with him, and passing short : ere while ?

Go with me, Silvius.




SCENE I. - The same.

and to have nothing, is to have rich eyes and poor

hands, Enter ROSALIND, Celia, and JAQUES.

Jaq. Yes, I have gained my experience. Jaq. I pr’ythee, pretty youth, let me be better

Enter ORLANDO. acquainted with thee. Ros. They say you are a melancholy fellow.

Ros. And your experience makes you sad: I Jaq. I am so ; I do love it better than laughing experience to make me sad; and to travel for it too.

had rather have a fool to make me merry, than Ros. Those that are in extremity of either, are abominable fellows; and betray themselves to every

Orl. Good day, and happiness, dear Rosalind ! modern censure, worse than drunkards.

Jaq. Nay then, farewell, an you talk in blank Jaq. Why, 'tis good to be sad and say nothing.

[Erit. Ros. Why then, 'tis good to be a post.

Ros. Farewell, monsieur traveller : Look, you Jaq.. I have neither the scholar's melancholy, lisp, and wear strange suits ; disable' all the benefits which is emulation ; nor the musician's, which is of your own country; be out of love with your nafantastical ; nor the courtier's, which is proud; nor

tivity, or I will scarce think you have swam in a the soldier's, which is ambitious; nor the lawyer's, gondola. – Why, how now, Orlando! where have which is politick; nor the lady's, which is nice 7 you been all this while ? You a lover ? — An you nor the lover's, which is all these : but it is a melan- serve me such another trick, never come in my choly of mine own, compounded of many simples, sight more. extracted from many objects: and, indeed, the

Orl. My fair Rosalind, I come within an hour

of sundry comtemplation of my travels, in which my

my promise. often rumination wraps me, is a most humorous will divide a minute into a thousand parts, and

Ros. Break an hour's promise in love? He that sadness. Ros. A traveller! By my faith, you have great in the affairs of love, it may be said of him, that

break but a part of the thousandth part of a minute reason to be sad : I fear, you have sold your own lands, to see other men's; then, to have seen much, Cupid hath clapp'd him o'the shoulder, but I war

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