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Teaching all that read to know
The quintessence of every sprite

Heaven would in little show.
Therefore heaven Nature charg'd,

That one body should be fill d
With all graces wide enlarg'd:

Nature presently distilld
Helen's cheek, but not her heart,

Cleopatra's majesty,
Atalanta's better part,

Sad Lucretia's modesty.
Thus Rosalind of many parts

By heavenly synod was devis’d,
Of many faces, eyes, and hearts,

To have the touches dearest priz'd.
Heaven would that she these gifts should have,

And I to live and die her slave. Ros. O, most gentle Jupiter !-what tedious homily of love have you wearied your parishioners withal, and never cried, “ Have patience, good people!”.

Cel. How now? back, friends.Shepherd, go off a little :- go with him, sirrah.

Touch. Come, shepherd, let us make an honourable retreat; though not with bag 'and baggage, yet with scrip and scrippage. (Exeunt Corin and TouchSTONE.

Cel. Didst thou hear these verses ?

Ros. O! yes, I heard them all, and more too; for some of them had in them more feet than the verses would bear.

Cel. That's no matter: the feet might bear the verses.

Ros. Ay, but the feet were lame, and could not bear themselves without the verse, and therefore stood lamely in the verse.

Cel. But didst thou hear without wondering, how thy name should be hanged and carved upon these trees ?

Ros. I was seven of the nine days out of the wonder, before you came; for look here what I found on a palm-tree : I was never so be-rhymed since Pythagoras' time, that I was an Irish rat', which I can hardly remember.

Cel. Trow you, who hath done this ? Ros. Is it a man? 1 Rhyming Irish rats to death, is frequently spoken of in old

writers.

Cel. And a chain, that you once wore, about his neck? Change you colour ?

Ros. I pr’ythee, who?

Cel. O lord, lord ! it is a hard matter for friends to meet; but mountains may be removed with earthquakes, and so encounter.

Ros. Nay, but who is it? Cel. Is it possible ? Ros. Nay, I prythee, now, with most petitionary vehemence, tell me who it is.

Cel. O, wonderful, wonderful, and most wonderful wonderful ! and yet again wonderful, and after that, out of all whooping !

Ros. Good my complexion ! dost thou think, though I am caparison'd like a man, I have a doublet and hose in my disposition ? One inch of delay more is a Southsea of discovery; I pr’ythee, tell me, who is it quickly; and speak apace. I would thou couldst stammer, that thou mightst 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’ythée take the cork out of thy mouth, that I may drink thy tidings.

Cel. So you may put a man in your belly.

Ros. 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.

Ros. Why, God will send more, if the man will be thankful. Let me stay 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 instant.

Ros. Nay, but the devil take mocking : speak sad' brow, and true maid.

Cel. I'faith, coz, 't is he.
Ros. Orlando ?
Cel. Orlando.

Ros. Alas the day! what shall I do with my doublet and hose ?-What did he, when thou saw'st him ? What said 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 shalt thou see him again ? Answer me in one word.

i Berious.

a

Cel. You must borrow me Garagantua’s' mouth first: 't is a word too great for any mouth of this age's size. To say, ay, and no, to these particulars is more than to answer in a catechism.

Ros. But doth he know that I am in this forest, and in man's apparel ? Looks he as freshly as he did the day he wrestled ?

Cel. It is as easy to count atomies, as to resolve the propositions of a lover : but take a taste of my finding him, and relish it with good observance. I found him under a tree, like a dropped acorn.

Ros. It may well be call’d Jove's tree, when it drops forth such fruit.

Cel. Give me audience, good madam.
Ros. Proceed.

Cel. There lay he stretch'd along, like a wounded knight.

Ros. Though it be pity to see such a sight, it well becomes the ground.

Cel. Cry, holla ! to thy gue, I pr’ythee; it curvets unseasonably. He was furnish'd like a hunter.

Ros. O ominous! he comes to kill my heart.

Cel. I would sing my song without a burden : thou bring'st’ me out of tune.

Ros. Do you not know I am a woman? when I think, I must speak._Sweet, say on.

Enter ORLANDO and JAQUES. Cel. You bring me out.-Soft! comes he not here? Ros. ’T is he : slink by, and note him.

[Rosalind and CELIA retire. Jaq. I thank you for your company; but, good faith, I had as lief have been myself alone.

Orl. And so had I; but yet, for fashion sake, I thank you too for your society.

Jaq. Good bye, you: let's meet as little as we can. Orl. I do desire we may be better strangers.

Jaq. I pray you, mar no more trees with writing love-songs in their barks.

Orl. I pray you mar no more of my verses with reading them ill-favouredly.

Jaq. Rosalind is your love's name? Orl. Yes, just. 1 Rabelais' giant, who swallowed five pilgrims in a salad. 3

me out,

a

found you.

Jaq. I do not like her name.
Orl

. There was no thought of pleasing you, when she was christened.

Jaq. What stature is she of?
Orl. Just as high as my heart.

Jaq. You are full of pretty answers. Have you not been acquainted with goldsmiths' wives, and conn'd them out of rings ?

Orl. Not so; but I answer you right painted cloth', from whence you have studied your questions.

Jaq. You have a nimble wit: I think ’t was made of Atalanta's heels. Will you sit down with me? and we two will rail against our mistress the world, and all our misery.

Orl. I will chide no breather in the world, but myself, against whom I know most faults.

Jaq. The worst fault you have is to be in love.

Orl. T is a fault I will not change for your best virtue. I am weary of you.

Jaq. By my troth, I was seeking for a fool when I

Orl. He is drown'd in the brook : look but in, and you shall see him.

Jag. There I shall see mine own figure.
Orl

. Which I take to be either a fool, or a cypher. Jag. I'll tarry no longer with you. Farewell, good signior love.

Orl. I am glad of your departure. Adieu, good monsieur melancholy.

(Exit JAQUES.-ROSALIND and CELIA come forward, Ros. (Aside to CELIA.] I will speak to him like a saucy lackey, and under that ha play the knave with him. [To him.] Do you hear, forester ?

Orl. Very well : what would you ?
Ros. I pray you, what is 't o'clock ?

Orl. You should ask me, what time o’day: there's no clock in the forest.

Ros. Then, there is no true lover in the forest; else sighing every minute, and groaning every hour, would detect the lazy foot of time as well as a clock.

Orl. And why not the swift foot of time? had not that been as proper ?

1 In the style of the moral maxims painted in common with pictures on cloth, hung around rooms like tapestry.

Ros. By no means, sir. Time travels in divers paces with divers persons. I'll tell you who Time ambles withal, who Time trots withal, who Time gallops withal, and who he stands still withal.

Orl. I pr’ythee, who doth he trot withal ?

Ros. Marry, he trots hard with a young maid, between the contract of her marriage, and the day it is solemnized : if the interim be but a se'nnight, Time's pace is so hard that it seems the length of seven years.

Orl. Who ambles Time withal ?

Ros. With a priest that lacks Latin, and a rich man that hath not the gout; for the one sleeps easily, because he cannot study; and the other lives merrily, because he feels no pain : the one lacking the burden of lean and wasteful learning, the other knowing no burden of heavy tedious penury. These Time ambles withal.

Orl. Who doth he gallop withal ?

Ros. With a thief to the gallows; for though he go as softly as foot can fall, he thinks himself too soon there.

Orl. Who stands he still withal ?

Ros. With lawyers in the vacation; for they sleep between term and term, and then they perceive not how time moves.

Orl. Where dwell you, pretty youth ? Ros. With this shepherdess, my sister ; here in the skirts of the forest, like fringe upon a petticoat.

Orl. Are you native of this place ?

Ros. As the coney, that you see dwell where she is kindled.

Orl. Your accent is something finer than you could purchase in so removed a dwelling.

Ros. I have been told so of many : but, indeed, an old religious uncle of mine taught me to speak, who was in his youth an inland man; one that knew courtship too well, for there he fell in love. I have heard him read many lectures against it; and I thank God, I am not a woman, to be touched with so many giddy offences, as he hath generally taxed their whole sex withal.

Orl. Can you remember any of the principal evils that he laid to the charge of women ?

1 stays it: in f. e.

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