marry me well, and not being well married, it will be a good excuse for me hereafter to leave my wife.

Jaq. Go thou with me, and let me counsel thee.

Touch. Come, sweet Audrey: We must be married, or we must live in bawdry. Farewell, good Master Oliver: not,

O sweet Oliver!

O brave Oliver!

Leave me not behind thee:

I will not to wedding with thee.

[Exeunt JAQUES, TOUCHSTONE, and AUDREY.

Sir Oli. 'Tis no matter: ne'er a fantastical knave of them all shall flout me out of my calling. [Exit.

SCENE IV. Another Part of the Forest.

Enter ROSALIND and CELIA.

Ros. Never talk to me: I will weep.

Cel. Do, I prithee: but yet have the grace to consider

that tears do not become a

man.

Ros. But have I not cause to weep?

Cel. As good cause as one would desire; therefore weep. Ros. His very hair is of the dissembling colour.

Cel. Something browner than Judas's: marry, his kisses are Judas's own children.

Ros. I' faith, his hair is of a good colour.

Cel. An excellent colour: your chestnut was ever the only colour.

Ros. And his kissing is as

full of sanctity as the touch of holy bread.

Cel. He hath bought a pair of cast lips of Diana: a nun of winter's sisterhood kisses not more religiously; the very ice of chastity is in them.

Ros. But why did he swear he would come this morning, and comes not?

Cel. Nay, certainly, there is no truth in him.

Ros. Do you think so?

Cel. Yes! I think he is not a pick-pursenora horsestealer; but for his verity in love, I do think him as con

cave as a covered goblet or a worm-eaten nut.

Ros. Not true in love? Cel. Yes, when he is in; but I think he is not in. Ros. You have heard him swear downright he was. Cel. Was is not 'is': besides the oath of a lover is no stronger than the word of a tapster; they are both the confirmer of false reckonings. He attends here in the forest on the duke your father.

Ros. I met the duke yester day and had much question with him. He asked me of what parentage I was; I told