feigning; and lovers are given to poetry; and what they swear in poetry, may be faid, as lovers, they do feign.

Aud. Do you wish then, that the Gods had made me poetical?

Clo. I do, truly; for thou swear'ft to me, thou art honeft: now if thou wert a poet, I might have some hope thou didft feign.

Aud. Would you not have me honest?

Clo. No, truly, unless thou wert hard-favour'd; for honefty coupled to beauty, is, to have honey a fawce to sugar.

Jaq. A material fool!

Aud. Well, I am not fair; and therefore I pray

the Gods make me honeft!

Clo. Truly, and to caft away honefty upon a foul flut, were to put good meat into an unclean dish. Aud. I am not a flut, though I thank the Gods I am foul.

Clo. Well, praised be the Gods for thy foulness! fluttishness may come hereafter: but be it as it may be, I will marry thee; and to that end I have been with Sir Oliver Mar-text, the vicar of the next village, who hath promis'd to meet me in this place of the foreft and to couple us.

Jaq. I would fain fee this meeting.

Aud. Well, the Gods give us joy!

Clo. Amen. A man may, if he were of a fearful heart, ftagger in this attempt; for here we have no temple but the wood, no affembly but horn-beafts. But what tho'? courage. As horns are odious, they are neceffary. It is faid, many a man knows no end of his goods: right: many a man has good horns, and knows no end of them. Well, that is the dowry of his wife, 'tis none of his own getting; horns? even fo poor men alone? no, no, the noblest deer hath them as huge as the rafcal: is the

fingle

fingle man therefore bleffed? no. As a wall'd town is more worthier than a village, fo is the forehead of a married man more honourable than the bare brow of a batchelor; and by how much defence is better than no skill, fo much is a horn more precious than to

want.

Enter Sir Oliver Mar-text.

Here comes Sir Oliver: Sir Oliver Mar-text, you are well met. Will you dispatch us here under this tree, or fhall we go with you to your Chappel ?

Sir Oli. Is there none here to give the woman?
Clo. I will not take her on gift of any man.

Sir Oli. Truly, she must be given, or the marriage is not lawful.

Jaq. Proceed, proceed! I'll give her.

Clo. Good even, good mafter what ye call: how do you, Sir? you are very well met: God'ild you for your laft company! I am very glad to see you; even a toy in hand here, Sir: nay; pray, be covered.

Jaq. Will you be married, Motley?

Clo. As the ox hath his bow, Sir, the horse is curb, and the faulcon his bells, fo man hath his defire; and as pidgeons bill, fo wedlock would be nibling.

Jaq. And will you, being a man of your breeding, be married under a bush like a beggar? get you to church, and have a good prieft that can tell you what marriage is; this fellow will but join you together as they join wainscot; then one of you will prove a fhrunk pannel, and, like green timber, warp, warp.

Clo. I am not in the mind, but I were better to be married of him than of another; for he is not like to marry me well; and not being well married, it will be a good excufe for me hereafter to leave my wife.

Jaq. Go thou with me, and let me counsel thee. Clo. Come, fweet Audrey, we must be married, or we muft live in bawdry: farewell, good Sir Oliver;

not

not 30 fweet Oliver, O brave Oliver, leave me not bebind thee, but wind away, begone, I fay, I will not to wedding with thee.

Sir Oliv. 'Tis no matter; ne'er a fantastical knave of them all fhall flout me out of my Calling. [Exeunt.

Changes to a Cottage in the Foreft.

Enter Rofalind and Celia.

Rof. Ever talk to me, I will weep.

X.

Gel. Do, I pr'ythee; but yet have the grace to confider, that tears do not become a man. Rof. But have I not cause to weep?

Cel. As good caufe as one would defire, therefore weep.

Rof. His very hair is of the diffembling colour. Cel. Something browner than Judas's: marry his kiffes are Judas's own children.

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

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

Rof. And his kiffing is as full of fanctity, as the touch of holy beard.

Cel. He hath bought a pair of (a) caft lips of Diana; a nun of Winter's fifterhood kiffes not more religiously; the very ice of chastity is in them.

3 O fweet Oliver, &c.] Some words of an old ballad.

Rof.

4 as the touch of holy bread.] We fhould read beard, that is, as the kifs of an holy faint or hermit, called the kifs of charity: This makes the comparison juft and decent; the other impious and abfurd.

5 a nun of Winter's fifterhood] This is finely expreffed. But Mr. Theobald fays, the words give him no ideas. And tis certain, that words will never give men what nature has denied [(a) caft. 1ft Folio-Vulg, shaft. ]

them,

Rof. But why did he fwear he would come this morning, and comes not?

Cel. Nay, certainly, there is no truth in him.
Rof. Do you think fo?

Cel. Yes; I think he is not a pick-purfe nor a horse-stealer; but for his verity in love, I do think him as concave as a cover'd goblet, or a worm

eaten nut.

Rof. Not true in love?

Cel. Yes, when he is in; but, I think, he is not in. Rof. You have heard him fwear downright, he was. Cel. Was, is not is; befides, the oath of a lover is no ftronger than the word of a tapfter; they are both the confirmers of falfe reckonings; he attends here in the Forest on the Duke your Father.

Rof. I met the Duke yesterday, and had much queftion with him: he askt me, of what parentage I was; I told him, of as good as he; fo he laugh'd,

them. However, to mend the matter, he fubftitutes Winifred's fifterhood. And, after fo happy a thought, it was to no purpose to tell him there was no religious order of that denomination. The plain truth is, Shakespear meant an unfruitful fifterhood, which had devoted itself to chaftity. For as those who were of the fifterhood of the fpring were the votaries of Venus; those of fummer, the votaries of Ceres; thofe of autumn, of Pomona ; fo thefe of the fifterhood of winter were the votaries of Diana: Called, of winter, because that quarter is not, like the other three, productive of fruit or increase. On this account, it is, that, when the poet speaks, of what is most poor, he inftances in winter, in these fine lines of Othello,

But riches endless is as poor as winter

To him that ever fears he shall be poor.

The other property of winter that made him term them of its fifterhood is its coldness. So in Midfummer Night's Dream,

To be a barren fifter all your life,

Chanting faint hymns to the cold fruitless moon.

6 as concave as a cover'd goblet,] Why a cover'd? Because a goblet is never kept cover'd but when empty. Shakespear never throws out his expreffions at random.

and

and let me go. But what talk we of fathers, when there is fuch a man as Orlando?

Cel. O, that's a brave man! he writes brave verfes, fpeaks brave words, fwears brave oaths, and breaks them bravely, 7 quite travers, athwart the heart of his lover; as a puifny tilter, that fpurs his horse but one fide, breaks his staff like a noble goofe; but all's brave that youth mounts, and folly guides: who comes here?

Enter Corin.

Cor. Mistress and mafter, you have oft enquired After the fhepherd that complain'd of love; Whom you faw fitting by me on the turf, Praifing the proud difdainful fhepherdess That was his mistress.

Cel. Well, and what of him?

7 quite travers, athwart &c] An unexperienced lover is here compared to a puny Tilter, to whom it was a disgrace to have his Lance broken across, as it was a mark either of want of Courage or Addrefs. This happen'd when the horse flew on one fide, in the carrier: And hence, I fuppofe, arofe the jocular proverbial phrafe of spurring the horse only on one fide. Now as breaking the Lance against his Adverfary's breaft, in a direct line, was honourable, fo the breaking it across against his breast was, for the reafon above, difhonourable: Hence it is, that Sidney, in his Arcadia, fpeaking of the mock-combat of Clinias and Dametas fays, The wind took fuch hold of his Staff that it croft quite over his breast &c.—And to break across was the usual phrase as appears from fome wretched verses of the fame Author fpeaking of an unskilful Tilter,

Methought fome Staves he mift: if fo, not much amifs:
For when he most did hit, he ever yet did mifs.

One faid he brake across, full well it fo might be &c.

This is the allufion. So that Orlando, a young Gallant, affecting the fashion (for brave is here used, as in other places, for fashionable) is represented either unskilful in courtship, or timorous. The Lover's meeting or appointment correfponds to the Tilter's Carrier: And as the one breaks Staves, the other breaks Oaths. The bufinefs is only meeting fairly, and doing both with Address: And 'tis for the want of this, that Orlando is blamed...

Cor.