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Orla. Which I take to be either a fool, or a cypher. Jaq. I'll ftay no longer with you; farewel, good Signior love! [Exit.


Orla. I am glad of your departure; adieu, good Monfieur melancholy! [Cel. and Rof. come forward. Rof. I will fpeak to him like a fawcy lacquey, and under that habit play the knave with him Do you hear, forefter?

Orla. Very well; what would you?

Rof. I pray you, what is't a clock?

Orla. You fhould afk me, what time o'day; there's no clock in the Foreft.

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Rof. Then there is no true lover in the Foreft; elfe, fighing every minute, and groaning every hour, would detect the lazy foot of time, as well as a clock.

Orla. And why not the fwift foot of time? had not that been as proper?"


Rof. By no means, Sir: time travels in divers paces, with divers perfons; I'll tell you whom time ambles withal, whom time trots withal, whom time gallops withal, and whom he ftands ftill withal.

Orla. I pr'ythee, whom doth he trot withal?

Rof. Marry, he trots hard with a young maid, between the contract of her marriage, and the day it is folemnized if the interim be but a fennight, time's pace is fo hard that it feems the length of feven years. Orla. Who ambles time withal?

Rof. With a prieft that lacks Latin, and a rich man that hath not the gout; for the one fleeps eafily becaufe he cannot ftudy; and the other lives merrily, because he feels no pain: the one lacking the burden of lean and wafteful learning; the other knowing no burden of heavy tedious penury. Thefe time ambles withal.

Orla. Whom doth he gallop withal?

Rof. With a thief to the gallows: for though he go


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as foftly as foot can fall, he thinks himself too foon there.

Orla. Whom stays it still withal?

Rof. With lawyers in the vacation; for they fleep between term and term, and then they perceive not how time moves.

- Orla. Where dwell you, pretty youth?"

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Rof. With this fhepherdefs, my fifter; here in the fkirts of the foreft, like fringe upon a petticoat. Orla. Are you native of this place?

Rof. As the cony, that you fee dwell where the is kindled.

• Orla. Your accent is fomething finer, than you could purchase in fo removed a dwelling.

Rof. I have been told fo of many; but, indeed, an old religious Uncle of mine taught me to fpeak, who was in his youth an inland man, one who knew courtship too well for there he fell in love. I have heard him read many lectures against it; I thank God, I am not a woman, to be touch'd with fo many giddy offences as he hath generally tax'd their whole fex withal.

Orla. Can you remember any of the principal evils, that he laid to the charge of women?


Rof. There were none principal, they were all like one another, as half-pence are; every one fault feeming monstrous, 'till his fellow fault came to match it. Orla. I pr'ythee, recount fome of them.

Rof. No; I will not caft away my phyfick, but on thofe that are fick. There is a man haunts the Foreft, that abuses our young Plants with carving Rofalind on their barks; hang Odes upon hawthorns, and Elegies on brambles; all, forfootli, deifying the name of Rofalind. If I could meet that fancy-monger, I would give him that good counfel, for he feems to have the Quotidian of love upon him.

inland man,] Is ufed in this play for one civilifed, in op pofition to the ruftick of the priest.

So Orlando before-Yet am I inland bred, and know some nurture.


Orla. I am he, that is fo love-shak'd; I pray you, tell me your remedy.

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Rof. There is none of my Uncle's marks upon you, he taught me how to know a man in love; in which cage of rufhes, I am fure, you are not prifoner.

Orla. What were his marks?

Rof. A lean cheek, which you have not; a blue eye and funken, which you have not; an unquestionable fpirit, which you have not; a beard neglected, which you have not; but I pardon you for that, for fimply your Having in beard is a younger Brother's revenue; then your hofe fhould be ungarter'd, your bonnet unbanded, your fleeve unbutton'd, your fhoe untied, and every thing about you demonftrating a carelefs defolation. But you are no fuch man, you are Tather point-de-vice in your accoutrements, as loving yourself, than feeming the lover of any other.

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Orld. Fair youth, I would I could make thee believe I love."

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Rof. Me believe it? you may as foon make her, that you love, believe it; which, I warrant, fhe is apter to do, than to confefs fhe does; that is one of the points, in the which women still give the lye to their confciences. But, in good footh, are you he that hangs the Verfes on the trees, wherein Rofalind is fo admired?

Orla. I fwear to thee, youth, by the white hand of Rofalind, I am That he, that unfortunate he.

Rof. But are you fo much in love, as your rhimes Speak?

Orla. Neither rhime nor reafon can exprefs how much.


Rof. Love is merely a madnefs, and, I tell you,

an unquestionable spirit.] That is, a fpirit not inquifitive, a mind indifferent to common objects, and negligent of common occurrences. Here Shake

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deferves as well a dark house and a whip, as mad men do: and the reason why they are not fo punished and cured, is, that the lunacy is fo ordinary, that the whippers are in love toot yet I profefs curing it by counfel.

Orla. Did you ever cure any fo?

He was to

Rof. Yes, one, and in this manner. imagine me his love, his miftrefs; and I fet him every day to wooe me. At which time would I, being but a moonish youth, grieve, be effeminate, changeable, longing, and liking; proud, fantaftical, apifh, fhallow, inconftant, full of tears, full of fmiles; for every paffion fomething, and for no paffion truly any thing, as boys and women are for the most part cattle of this colour; would now like him, now loath him; then entertain him, then forfwear him; now weep for him, then fpit at him; that I drave my fuitor from his mad humour of love, to a living humour of madnefs; which was, to forfwear the full ftream of the world, and to live in a nook meerly monaftick; and thus I cur'd him, and this way will I take upon me to wash your liver as clear as a found fheep's heart, that there shall not be one spot of love in't.

Orla. I would not be cur'd, youth.

Rof. I would cure you, if you would but call me Rofalind, and come every day to my cote, and wooe me. Orla. Now, by the faith of my love, I will. Tell me where it is.

Rof. Go with me to it, and I will fhew it you; and,

to a living humour of madness;] If this be the true reading, we must by living underfland lafting, or permanent, but I cannot forbear to think that fome antithefis was intended, which is now lolt; perhaps the paffage flood thus, I drove my fuitor from a dying humour of love to a living humour of mad

nefs. Or rather thus, from a mad humour of love to a loving humour of madness, that is, from a madnefs that was love, to a love that was madness. That feems fomewhat harsh and ftrained, but fuch modes of fpeech are not unusual in our poet and this harshness was probably the caufe of the corruption.


by the way, you shall tell me where in the Forest you live. Will you go?

...: Orla. With all my heart, good youth.

Rof. Nay, nay, you must call me Rofalind-Come, fifter, will you go?



Enter Clown, Audrey, and Jaques watching them.

Clo. Come apace, good Audrey, I will fetch up your goats, Audrey; and now, Audrey, am I the man yet? doth my fimple feature content you?

Aud. Your features, Lord warrant us! what features?

Clo. I am here with thee and thy goats, as the most capricious poet honeft Ovid was among the Goths. Jaq. [afide] O knowledge ill-inhabited, worfe than Jove in a thatch'd house!

Clo. When a man's verfes cannot be understood, nor a man's good Wit feconded with the forward child, Understanding; it ftrikes a man more dead than a great reckoning in a little room'; truly, I would the Gods had made thee poetical.

2 it ftrikes a man more dead than a great reckoning in a little room;] Nothing was ever wrote in higher humour than this fimile. A great reckoning, in a little room; implies that the entertainment was mean, and the bill extravagant. The poet here alluded to the French proverbial phrafe of the quarter of hour of Rabelais: who faid, there was only one quarter of an hour in hu man life paffes ill, and that was between the calling for the reckoning and paying it. Yet the


delicacy of our Oxford Editor would correct this into, It firikes a man more dead than a great reeking in a little room: This is amending with a vengeances. When men are joking together in a merry humour, all are dif pofed to laugh. One of the company fays a good thing; the jeft is not taken; all are filent, and he who faid it, quite confounded. This is compared to a tavern jollity interrupted by the coming in of a great reckoning. Had not Shakespeare reason now

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