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Then I should know you by description ;
Cel. It is no boast, being ask'd, to say, we are.
Oli. Orlando doth commend him to you both;
Ros. I am: What must we understand by this ?
Oli. Some of my shame; if you will know of me
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 sweet and bitter fancy, Lo, what befel! he threw his eye aside, And, mark, what object did present itself! Under an oak, whose boughs were moss'd with age, And high top bald with dry antiquity, A wretched ragged man, o'ergrown with hair, Lay sleeping on his back : about his neck A green and gilded snake had wreath'd itself, Who with her head, nimble in threats, approach'd The opening of his mouth; but suddenly Seeing Orlando, it unlink'd itself, And with indented glides did slip away Into a bush : under which bush's shade A lioness, with udders all drawn dry,
Lay couching, head on ground, with catlike watch,
Oli. And well he might so do, For well I know he was unnatural.
Ros. But, to Orlando ;-Did he leave him there, Food to the suck'd and hungry lioness ?
Oli. Twice did he turn his back, and purpos'd so:
Cel. Are you his brother?
Oli. 'Twas I ; but ’tis not I: I do not shame
Ros. But, for the bloody napkin? ,
Oli. By and by.
In brief, he led me to the gentle duke,
Cel. We'll lead you thither :-
Oli. Be of good cheer, youth :-You a man?-
Ros. I do so, I confess 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 passion of earnest.
Ros. Counterfeit, I assure you.
Oli. Well then, take a good heart, and counterfeit to be a man.
Ros. So I do: but, i’faith I should 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 How you excuse my brother, Rosalind.
Ros. I shall devise something : But, I pray you, commend my counterfeiting to him :-Will you go?
SCENE I.-The same.
Enter Touchstone and Audrey. Touch. We shall find a time, Audrey; patience, gentle Audrey.
Aud. 'Faith, the priest was good enough, for all the old gentleman's saying.
Touch. A most wicked sir Oliver, Audrey, a most vile Mar-text. But, Audrey, there is a youth here in the forest lays claiın to you.
Aud. Ay, I know who 'tis; he hath no interest in me in the world : here comes the man you mean.
Will. Good even, Audrey.
Touch. Good even, gentle friend : Cover thy head, cover thy head; nay, pr’ythee, be covered. How old are you, friend?
Will. Five and twenty, sir.