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There be fome women, Silvius, had they mark'd him
Sil. Pbebe, with all my heart.
Phe. I'll write it straight;
JA QUE S.
Ref. Those, that are in extremity of either, are abo. minable fellows; and betray themselves to every modern censure, worse than drunkards.
Jaq. Why, 'tis good to be fad, and say nothing.
Jaq. Jaq. I have neither the fcholar'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 in a most humorous fadness.
milan Ref. A traveller ! by my faith, you have great reafon to be sad : I fear, you have sold your own lands, to fee other mens : then, to have seen much, and to have nothing, is to have rich
Rol. And your experience makes you fad ; I had rather have a fool to make me merry, than experience to make me fad, and to travel for it too. ... Orla. Good day, and happiness, dear Rosalind!
Jaq. Nay, then God b'my you, an you talk in blank verse.
[Exit. Rol. Farewel, monsieur traveller; look, you lifp, and wear Atsange fuits ; disable all the benefits 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 ferve-me fuch another trick, never come in my light more.
Orla, My fair Rojalind, I come within an hour of my
Ref. Break an hour's promise in love! he that will divide a minute into a thoufand parts, and break but a part of the thousandth part of a minute in the affairs of Jove, it may be said of him, that Cupid. hath clapt him o'th' fhoulder, buç I'll warrant him heart-whole. Orla. Pardon me, dear Rosalind...
I Rof. Nay, an you be fo tardy, come no more in my fight : I had as lief be woo'd of a snail. Orla. Of a snail ?
Rof. Ay, of a snail ; for tho he comes slowly, he carries his house on his head : a better jointure, I think, than make a woman; besides, he brings his destiny with him. o
Orla. What's that ?
Rof. 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 flander of his wife. í Orla. Virtue is no horn-maker , and my Rosalind is virtuous.
Rof. And I am your Rosalind.
Cel. It pleases him i to call you so ; but he hath a RoJalind of a better leer than you.
Rof. Come, woo me, woo me ; for now I am in a - holyday humour, and like enough to consent : what would you fay to me now, an I were your very, very Rosalind ?
Orla. I would kiss, before I spoke.
Rof. Nay, you were better speak first, and when you were gravell’d for lack of matter, you might take occafion to kiss. Very good orators, when they are out, they will spit; and for lovers lacking, God warn us, matter, the cleanlieft fhift is to kiss. ? Orla. How if the kiss be denied ?
Ref. Then she puts you to entreaty, and there begins new matter.
Orla. Who could be out, being before his beloved mistress ?
Rof, Marry, that should you, if I were your mistress ; or I should think my honesty ranker than
wit. Orla. What, of my
fuit ? Ros. Not out of your apparel, and yet out of your fuit. Am not I your Rosalind ?
Orla. I take some joy to say, you are ; because I would be talking of her.
Ref. Well, in her person, I fay, I will not have you.
Ref. No, faith, die by attorney ; the poor world is almoit fix 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 brainsi dalh'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 livd many a fair year, tho' Hero kad turn'd nun, if it had not been for å hot midsummer night ; for, good youth, he went but forth to wash in the Hellespont, and, being taken with the oramp, was drown'd; and the foolish chroniclers of that age found it was
Hero of Seftos. But these are all lies; men have died from time to time, and worms have eaten them, but not for love.
Orla. I would not have my right Rofalind of this mind; for, I proteft, her frown might kill me.
Ref. By this hand, it will not kill a fly; but come ; now I will be your Rosalind in a more coming-on dispofation; and ask me what you will, I will grant it,
Orla. Then love me, Rosalind.
Rof. Why then, can one defire too much of a good thing? come, fifter, you shall be the priest, and marry
Give me your hand, Orlando : what do you say, Sifter?
Orla. Pray thee, marry us.
Cel. Go to ; will you, Orlando, have to wife this Rolalind?
Orla. I will. Rof. Ay, but when ? Oria. Why now, as fast as she can marry us. Rof. Then you muft say, I take thee Rosalind for wife.
Orla. I take thee Rosalind for wife. Rof: I might ask you for your commiflion, but I do take thee Orlando for my husband: there's a girl goes before the priest, and certainly a woman's thought runs before her actions.
Orla. So do all thoughts; they are wing'd.
Raf. Now tell me, how long would you 'have her, after you have pofleft her.
Orla. For ever and a day:
Rof. 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 cock-pigeon over his hen ; more clamorous than a parrot against rain ; more new-fangled than an ape ; 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 difpos'd to be merry ; I will laugh like a hyen, and that when you are inclin'd to sleep.
Orla. But will my Rosalind do fo?
Rof. Or else she coald not have the wit to do this ; the wiser, the waywarder : make the doors falt upon a woman's wit, and it will out at the casement; fhut that, and 'twill out at the key-hole ; stop that, it will fly with the smoak out at the chimney.
Orla. A man that had a wife with such a wit, he might fay, Wit, whither wilt?
Ros. Nay, you might keep that check for it, 'till you met your wife's wit going to your neighbour's bed.
Orla. And what wit could wit have to excuse that?
Rof. Marry, to say she came to seek you there : you shall never take her without her anfwer, 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 ! Orla. For these two hours, Rosalind, I will leave thee.