Than that mix'd in his cheek; 'twas just the dif ference Betwixt the constant red, and mingled' damask. There be some women, Silvius, had they mark'd him In parcels as I did, would have gone near I have more cause to hate him than to love him: He said, mine eyes were black, and my hair black; And, now I am remember'd, scorn'd at me: But that's all one; omittance is no quittance. The matter's in my head, and in my heart: [Exeunt. ACT IV. SCENE I. The same. Enter ROSALIND, CELIA, and JAQUES. Jaq. I pr'ythee, pretty youth, let me be better acquainted with thee. Ros. They say, you are a melancholy fellow. Jaq. I am so; I do love it better than laughing.. Ros. Those, that are in extremity of either, are abominable fellows; and betray themselves to every modern censure, worse than drunkards. Jaq. Why, 'tis good to be sad and say nothing. Ros. Why then, 'tis good to be a post. Jaq. I have neither the scholar's melancholy, which is emulation; nor the musician's, which is fantastical; nor the courtier's, which is proud; nor the soldier's, which is ambitious; nor the lawyer's, which is politick; nor the lady's, which is nice; nor the lover's, which is all these: but it is a melancholy of mine own, compounded of many simples, extracted from many objects, and, indeed, the sundry contemplation of my travels, in which my often rumination wraps me, is a most humorous sadness. Ros. A traveller! By my faith, you have great reason to be sad: I fear, you have sold your own lands, to see other men's; then, to have seen much, and to have nothing, is to have rich eyes and poor hands. Jaq. Yes, I have gain'd my experience. Enter ORLANDO. Ros. And your experience makes you sad: I had rather have a fool to make me merry, than experience to make me sad; and to travel for it 190. Orl. Good day, and happiness, dear Rosalind! Jaq. Nay then, God be wi' you, an you talk in blank verse. [Exit. Kos. Farewel, Monsieur traveller: Look, you lisp, and wear strange suits; disable all the bene his of your own country; be out of love with your nativity, and almost chide. God for making you that countenance you are; or I will scarce think you have swam in a gondola. Why, how now, Orlando! where have you been all this while? You a lover? An you serve me such another trick, never come in my "sight more. Orl. My fair Rosalind, I come within an hour of my promise. Ros. Break an hour's promise in love? He that will divide a minute into a thousand parts, and break but a part of the thousandth part of a minute in the affairs of love, it may be said of him, that Cupid hath clap'd him o' the shoulder, but I warrant him heart - whole. Orl. Pardon me, dear Rosalind. Ros. Nay, an you be so tardy, come no more in my sight; I had as lief be woo'd of a snail. Orl. Of a snail? Ros. Ay, of a snail; for though he comes slowly, he carries his house on his head; a better jointure, I think, than you can a make a woman: Besides, he brings his destiny with him. Orl. What's that? Ros. Why, horns; which such as you are fain to be beholden to your wives for: but he comes armed in his fortune, and prevents the slander of his wife. Orl. Virtue is no horn-maker; and my Rosalind is virtuous. Ros. And I am your Rosalind. Cel. It pleases him to call you so; but he hath a Rosalind of a better leer than you. Ros. Come, woo me, woo me; for now I am in a holiday humour, and like enough to consent:- What would you say to me now, an I were your very very Rosalind? Orl. I would kiss, before I spoke. Ros. Nay, you were better speak first; and when you were gravell'd for lack of matter, you might take occasion to kiss. Very good orators, when they are out, they will spit; and for lovers, lacking (God warn us!) matter, the cleanliest Orl. How if the kiss be denied? Ros. Then she puts you to entreaty, and there begins new matter. Orl. Who could be out, being before his beloved mistress? T Ros. Marry, that should you, if I were your mistress; or I should think my honesty ranker than my wit. Orl. What, of my suit? Ros. Not out of your apparel, and yet out of your suit. Am not I your Rosalind? Orl. I take some joy to say you are, because I would be talking of her. tios. Well, in her person, I say I will not have you.. The poor Orl. Then, in my own person, I die. Ros. No, faith, die by attorney. world is almost six thousand years old, and in all this time there was not any man died in his own person, videlicet, in a love-cause. Troilus had his brains dash'd out with a Grecian club; yet he did what he could to die before; and he is one of the patterns of love. Leander, he would have lived many a fair year, though Hero had turn'd nun, if it had not been for a hot midsum mer night for, good youth, he went but forth to wash him in the Hellespont, and, being taken with the cramp; was drown'd; and the foolish, chroniclers of that age found it was. Hero of Sestos. But these are all lies: men have died from time to time, and worms have eaten them, but not for love. Ort. 1 would not have my right Rosalind of this mind; for, protest, her frown might Ros. By this hand, it will not kill a fly: But come, now I will be your Rosalind in a more coming-on disposition; and ask me what you will, I will grant. Orl. Then love me, Rosalind. Ros. Yes, faith will I, fridays, and saturdays, and all. · Orl. And wilt thou have me? Ros. Ay, and twenty such. Ros. Are you not good? Orl. I hope so. Ros. Why then, can one desire too much of a Come, sister, you shall be the good thing?" priest, and marry us. Give me your hand, Orlando: What do you say, sister? Cel. I cannot say the words. Hos. You must begin, Cel. Go to: Orl. I will, - wife this Rosalind. Will you, Orlando, Will you, Orlando, have to Ros. Ay, but when? Orl. Why now; as fast as she can marry us. Ros. Then you must say, salind, for wife. --- I take thee, Ro dvQrlu take thee, Rosalind, for wife. 1.PoiI might ask you for your commission; but, I do take thee, Orlando, for my husband: |