Sil. No, I proteft, I know not the contents; Phebe did write it.

Rof. Come, come, you're a fool,

And turn'd into th' extremity of love.

I saw her hand, fhe has a leathern hand,
A free-ftone-colour'd hand; I verily did think,
That her old gloves were on, but 'twas her hand;
She has a hufwife's hand, but that's no matter-
I fay, she never did invent this letter-

This is a man's invention, and his hand.
Sil. Sure, it is hers.

Rof. Why, 'tis a boisterous and a cruel ftile,
A ftile for challengers; why, the defies me,
Like Turk to Chriftian; woman's gentle brain
Could not drop forth fuch giant rude invention;
Such Ethiop words, blacker in their effect

Than in their countenance. Will you hear the letteru? Mugs Meat.

Sil. So please you, for I never heard it yet; Yet heard too much of Phebe's cruelty,

Rof. She Phebe's me--mark, how the tyrant writes. Vun bishe

[Reads] Art thou God to Shepherd turn'd, That a maiden's heart hath burn'd,

Can a woman rail thus?

Sil. Call you this railing?

Ref. [Reads.] Why, thy Godhead laid apart,
Warrft thou with a woman's heart?

Did you ever hear fuch railing?

* * Z

Whiles the eye of man did woo me,
That could do no vengeance

Meaning me a beaft. i

1.

* to me.

Vengeance is ufed for a mischief.

If the fcorn of your bright eyne

Have power to raife fuch love in mine,
Alack, in me, what frange effecte lisa
Would they work in mild afpect?
Whiles you chid me, I did love;

How then might your prayers move?

i

He, that brings this love to thee,) bull Little knows this love in me; i

And by him feal up thy mind,

Whether that thy Youth and Kind A
Will the faithful offer take

Of me, and all that I can make;
Or elfe by him my love deny.

And then I'll study how to die.

Sil. Call you this chiding?
Cel. Alas, poor fhepherd!

Rof. Do you pity him? no, he deferves no pity Wilt thou love fuch a woman-what, to make thee an inftrument, and play false strains upon thee? not to be endured!-Well, go your way to her; for I fee love hath made thee a tame fnake, and fay this to her; "that if fhe love me, I charge her to love thee; If fhe will not, I will never have her, unless thou "intreat for her." If you be a true lover, hence, and not a word; for here comes more company.

SCENE VI

Exit Silvius.

Enter Oliver.

Oli. Good-morrow, fair ones: pray you, if you know

Where, in the purlews of this forest, stands

A fheep-cote fenc'd about with olive-trees?

• Youth and Kind.] Kind is the old word for nature.

Cel.

Cel. Weft of this place, down in the neighbour bottom,

The rank of ofiers, by the murmuring ftream,
Left on your right-hand, brings you to the place;
But at this hour the houfe doth keep itfelf, ne
There's none within.

Oli. If that an eye may profit by a tongue,
Then fhould I know you by defcription,
Such garments, and fuch years :" the boy is fair,
"Of female favour, and bestows himself.
"Like a ripe Sifter: but the woman low,
"And browner than her brother." Are not you
The owner of the house, I did enquire for ??
Cel. It is no boast, being afk'd, tó fay, we are.
Oli, Orlando doth commend him to you both,
And to that youth, he calls his Rofalind,
He fends this bloody napkin. Are you he?
Rof. I am; what must we understand by this?
Oli. Some of my Shame, if you will know of me
What man I am, and how, and why, and where,
This handkerchief was ftain'd..

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 fweet and bitter fancy,

Lo, what befel! he threw his eye alide,

And mark what object did prefent itself.
Under an oak, whofe boughs were mofs'd with age,
And high top bald with dry antiquity;

A wretched ragged man, o'er-grown with hair,
Lay fleeping on his back; about his neck-
A green and gilded fnake had wreath'd itself,
Who with her head, nimble in threats, approach'd
The opening of his mouth, but fuddenly
Seeing Orlando, it unlink'd itself,

And with indented glides did flip away...

* We must read, within two hours.

G 4

Into

Into a bufh; under which bush's fhade

A Lioness, with udders all drawn dry,

Lay couching head on ground, with cat-like watch
When that the fleeping man should stir; for 'tis
The royal difpofition of that beaft

To prey on nothing that doth feem as dead:
This feen, Orlando did approach the man,
And found it was his brother, his eldest 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 lionefs?

k

Oli. Twice did he turn his back, and purpos'd fo
But kindness, nobler ever than revenge,
And nature ftronger than his juft occafion,
Made him give battel to the lioness,

Who quickly fell before him; in which hurtling
From miferable flumber I awak'd.

Cel. Are you his brother?

Rof. Was it 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 conversion

So fweetly tastes, being the thing I am.
Rof. But, for the bloody napkin?-

Oli. By, and by.

When from the firft to laft, betwixt us two,
Tears our recountments had moft kindly bath'd,
As how I came into that defert place;

In brief, he led me to the gentle Duke, «**
Who gave me fresh array and entertainment,
Committing me unto my brother's love;
Who led me inftantly unto his cave,

There ftripp'd himfelf, and here upon his arm

The

The lionefs had torn some flesh away,

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;
And, after fome fmall space, being strong at heart,
He fent me hither, ftranger as I am,

To tell this story, that you might excufe

His broken promife; and to give this napkin,
Dy'd in his blood, unto the fhepherd youth,
That he in fport doth call his Rofalind.

Cel. Why, how now? Ganymed!
Ganymed!

Sweet!

[Rofalind 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.

-I pray you, will you take him by the arm?

Oli. Be of good cheer, youth you a man? — you lack a man's heart.

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 testimony in your complexion, that it was a paffion of earneft.

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 fhould 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,

*Coufin, Ganymed] Celia in her firft fright torgets Rofalind's character and difguife, and calls

out Coufin, then recollects herself and fays Ganymed.

How