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Orl. So do all thoughts; they are winged.

Ros. Now tell me, how long you would have her, after

you have possessed her. ORL. For ever, and a day.

Ros. Say a day, without the ever : No, no, Orlando; men are April when they woo, December when they wed: maids are May when they are maids, but the sky changes when they are wives. I will be more jealous of thee than a Barbary cockpigeon over his hen; more clamorous than a parrot against rain; more new-fangled than an ape; (5) more giddy in my desires than a monkey: I will weep for nothing, like Diana in the fountain, and I will do that when you are disposed to be merry; I will laugh like a hyen," and that when thou art inclined to sleep.

ORL. But will my Rosalind do so ?
Ros. By my life, she will do as I do.
ORL. O, but she is wise.

Ros. Or else she could not have the wit to do this: the wiser, the waywarder : Make the doors upon a woman's wit, and it will out at the casement; shut that, and 'twill out at the key-hole; stop that, 'twill fly with the smoke out at the chimney.

ORL. A man that had a wife with such a wit, he might say,-Wit whither wilt ? (8)

Ros. Nay, you might keep that check for it, till you met your wife's wit going to your neighbour's bed.

ORL. And what wit could wit have to excuse that? Ros. Marry, to say—she came to seek you


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* Make the doors] In low and middle life, this is the language of all the midland counties for securing, or making fast, the doors.

You shall never take her without her answer, unless you take her without her tongue. O, that woman that cannot make her fault her husband's occasion," let her never nurse her child herself, for she will breed it like a fool.

Orl. For these two hours, Rosalind, I will leave thee.

Ros. Alas, dear love, I cannot lack thee two hours.

ORL. I must attend the duke at dinner; by two o'clock I will be with thee again.

Ros. Ay, go your ways, go your ways ;-I knew what you would prove; my friends told me as much, and I thought no less :-that flattering tongue of yours won me :-- tis but one cast away, and so,-come, death.-Two o'clock is your hour?

ORL. Ay, sweet Rosalind.

Ros. By my troth, and in good earnest, and so God mend me, and by all pretty oaths that are not dangerous, if you break one jot of your promise, or come one minute behind your hour, I will think you the most pathetical break-promise, and the most hollow lover, and the most unworthy of her you call Rosalind, that may be chosen out of the gross band of the unfaithful: therefore beware my censure, and keep your promise.

Orl. With no less religion, than if thou wert indeed my Rosalind : So, adieu,

Ros. Well, time is the old justice that examines all such offenders,'') and let time try: Adieu !

[Exit ORLANDO. Cel. You have simply misus'd our sex in your love-prate: we must have your doublet and hose

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that woman that cannot make her fault her husband's occasion) An act done upon his occasions, in prosecution of his concerns ; or, as Dr. Johnson says, “ occasioned by her husband.”

pathetical break-promise] Piteously moaning.

plucked over your head, and show the world what the bird hath done to her own nest. (11)

Ros. O coz, coz, coz, my pretty little coz, that thou didst know how many fathom deep I am in love! But it cannot be sounded; my affection hath an unknown bottom, like the bay of Portugal.

CEL. Or rather, bottomless; that as fast as you pour affection in, it runs out.

Ros. No, that same wicked bastard of Venus, that was begot of thought, conceived of spleen, and born of madness; that blind rascally boy, that abuses every one's eyes, because his own are out, let him be judge, how deep I am in love:I'll telí thee, Aliena, I cannot be out of the sight of Orlando: I'll go find a shadow, and sigh till he

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come. (12)

Cel. And I'll sleep.



Another Part of the Forest.

Enter JAQUES and Lords, in the habit of Foresters.

JAQ. Which is he that killed the deer?
1 LORD. Sir, it was I.

JAQ. Let's present him to the duke, like a Roman conqueror; and it would do well to set the deer's horns upon his head, for a branch of victory :-Have you no song, forester, for this pur


begot of thought] Melancholy. Thought and affliction," Haml. IV. 5. Laert. See Tw. N. II. 4. Viola.

2 LORD. Yes, sir.

JAQ. Sing it; 'tis no matter how it be in tune, so it make noise enough.


1. What shall he have that kill'd the deer ?
2. His leather skin, and horns to wear. (13)

1. Then sing him home;
Take thou no scorn, to wear the horn; (14) The rest
It was a crestere thou wast born.

1. Thy father's father wore it;

2. And thy father bore it: All. The horn, the horn, the lusty horn,

Is not a thing to laugh to scorn. [Exeunt.

shall bear this burden.


The Forest.

Enter RosALIND and CELIA.

Ros. How say you now? Is it not past two o'clock? and here much Orlando !*

CEL. I warrant you, with pure love, and troubled brain, he hath ta’en his bow and arrows, and is gone forth--to sleep: Look, who comes here.

* past two o'clock ? and here much Orlando] Much, or much of him, ironically spoken, is “ no appearance, not a shadow of him; no Orlando :" as the vulgar say, I shall get much by that, meaning, they shall get nothing.

Enter Silvius.

Sil. My errand is to you, fair youth ;My gentle Phebe did bid me give you this :

[Giving a letter. I know not the contents; but, as I guess, By the stern brow, and waspish action Which she did use as she was writing of it, It bears an angry tenour : pardon me, I am but as a guiltless messenger. Ros. Patience herself would startle at this

letter, And play the swaggerer ;(15) bear this, bear all : She says, I am not fair ; that I lack manners; She calls me proud; and, that she could not love


Were man as rare as phenix; Od's my will!
Her love is not the hare that I do hunt,
Why writes she so to me ?— Well, shepherd, well,
This is a letter of your own device.

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

Come, come, you are a fool,
And turn'd into the extremity of love.
I saw her hand : she has a leathern hand,
A freestone-colour'd hand; I verily did think
That her old gloves were on, but 'twas her hands;
She has a huswife's hand: but that's no matter :

say, she never did invent this letter; This is a man's invention, and his hand.

SIL. Sure, it is hers.

Ros. Why, 'tis a boisterous and cruel style, A style for challengers; why, she defies me, Like Turk to Christian : woman's gentle brain Could not drop forth such giant-rude invention,

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