The rank of osiers, by the murmuring stream,
Left on your right-hand, brings you to the place ;
But at this hour the house doth keep it self,
There's none within.

Oli. If that an eye may profit by a tongue,
Then should I know you by description,
Şuch garments, and such years: the boy is fair,
Of female favour, and bestows himself
Like a ripe Sister : but the woman low,
And browner than her brother. Are not you
The owner of the house, I did enquire for?

Cel. It is no boast, being ask'd, to say, we are,

Oli. Orlando doth commend him to you both,
And to that youth, he calls his Rosalind,
He sends his bloody napkin. Are you he?

Rof. I am; what must we understand by this?
Oli. Some of my Shame, if you will know of me
What man I am, and how, and why, and where
This handkerchief was ftain'd.

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 it felf. . Under an oak, whose boughs were moss'd with age, ' And high top bald with dry antiquity;

A wretched ragged man, o'er-grown with hair, Lay Neeping on his back; about his neck A green and gilded snake had wreach'd it self, Who with her head, nimble in threats, approach'd • The opening of his mouth, but suddenly

Seeing Orlando, it unlink'd it felf,
* And with indented glides did Nip away

Into a bush ; under which bush's shade
A Lioness, with udders all drawn dry,

Lay

• Lay couching head on ground, with cat-like watch • When that the neeping man should stir ; for 'cis « The royal disposition of that beast • To prey on nothing that doth seem as dead: This feen, Orlando did approach the man, And found it was his brother, his eldest brother.

Cel. O, I have heard him speak of that fame brother,
And he did render him the most unnatural
That liv'd 'mongst men.

Oli. And well he might fo do ;
For, well I know, he was unnatural.

Rof. 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 fo:
But kindness, nobler ever than revenge,
And nature stronger than his juft occasion,
Made him give battel to the lioness,
Who quickly fell before him; in which s hurtling
From miserable number I awak'd.

Cel. Are you his brother?
Rof. Was it you he rescu'd ?
Cel. Was it you that did so oft contrive to kill him?

Oli. 'Twas I ; but 'tis not I; I do not hame
To tell you what I was, since my conversion
So sweetly tastes, being the thing I am.

Rof. But, for the bloody napkin?

Oli. By, and by
When from the first to last, betwixt us two,
Tears our recountments had most kindly bath'd,
As how I came into that defart place;
In brief, he led me to the gentle Duke,
Who gave me fresh array and entertainment,
Committing me unto my brother's love;
Who led me instantly unto his cave,
There strip'd himself, and here upon his arm
The lionels had torn fome Aeth

Which all this while had bled ; and now he fainted,
And cry'd, in fainting, upon Rosalind,
Brief, I recover'd him ; bound

up

his wound
And, after some small space, being strong at heart,
He sent me hither, stranger as I am,
To tell this story, that you might excuse
His broken promise, and to give this napkin,
Dy'd in his blood, unto the shepherd youth,
That he in sport doth call his Rosalind.
Cel. Why, how now Ganimed, Sweet, Ganimed?

(Rof. faints.
Oli. Many will swoon, when they do look on blood.
Cel. There is more in it:cousin Ganimed!
Oli. Look, he recovers.
RS. Would, I were at home!

Cel. We'll lead you thither.
I pray you, will you take him by the arm?

Oli. Be of good cheer, youth ; you a man? you lack a man's heart,

RS. 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 paslion of earneft.

Ros. Counterfeit, I assure you.

Oli. Well then, take a good heart, and counterfeit to be a man.

Rof. 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 l; 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?

[Exeunt. VOL. II. Вь

ACT

A CT V. SCENE I.

The FOREST.

Enter Clown and Audrey.

CLOWN. WE

E shall find a time, Audrey; patience, gentle

Audrey. Aud. Faith, the Priest was good enough, for all the old gentleman's saying.

Clo. A most wicked Sir Oliver, Audrey; a most vile Mar-text! but Audrey, there is a youth here in the Forest lays claim to you.

Aud. Ay, I know who 'tis, he hath no interest in me in the world; here comes the man you mean.

Enter William. Clo. It is meat and drink to me to see a Clown; by my troth, we, that have good wits, have much to answer for: we shall be fouting; we cannot hold.

Will. Good ev'n, Audrey.
Aud. God ye good ev'n, William.
Will. And good ev'n to you, Sir.

Clo. Good ev’n, gentle friend. Cover thy head, cover thy head; nay, pr’ythee, be cover'd. How old

are you, friend?

Will. Five and twenty, Sir.
Clo. A ripe age: is thy name William ?
Will, William, Sir.
Clo. A fair name. Waft born i'th' forest here?
Will. Ay, Sir, I thank God.
Clo. Thank God: a good answer: art rich?
Will. 'Faith, Sir, so, so.
Clo. So, so, is good, very good, very excellent

good;

good; and yet it is not; it is but fo fo. Art thou

so· wise ?

Will. Ay, Sir, I have a pretty wit. .

Clo. Why, thou say'st well : I do now remember a Saying; the fool doth think he is wise, but the wise man knows himself to be a fool. The heathen philosopher, when he had a desire to eat a grape, would open his lips when he put it into his mouth; meaning thereby, that grapes were made to eat, and lips to open. You do love this maid?

?
Will. I do, Sir.
Clo. Give me your hand : art thou learned ?
Will. No, Sir.

Clo. Then learn this of me; to have, is to have. For it is a figure in rhetorick, that drink being poured out of a cup into a glass, by filling the one doth empty the other. For all your writers do consent, that ipse is he: now you are not ipse; for I am he.

Will. Which he, Sir?

Clo. He, Sir, that must marry this woman; therefore you, Clown, abandon, which is in the vulgar, leave the society, which in the boorish, is company, of this female; which in the common, is woman; which together is, abandon the society of this female; or Clown, thou perishest; or, to thy better understanding, dieft; or, to wit, I kill thee, make thee away, transate thy life into death, thy liberty into bondage; ? I will deal in poison with thee, or in baftinado, or in steel; I will bandy with thee in