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Over the wretched what though you have beauty ",
(As, by my faith, I see no more in you
Than without candle may go dark to bed),
Muft you be therefore proud and pitiless
Why, what means this? why do you look on me?!
I fee no more in you than in the ordinary
Of nature's fale-work: odds, my little life!
I think, she means to angle mine eyes too
No, faith, proud mistress, hope not after it;
'Tis not your inky brows, your black filk hair,
Your bugle eye-balls, nor your cheek of cream,
That can entame my spirits to your worship 9.
You foolish shepherd, wherefore do you follow her
Like foggy South, puffing with wind and rain?
You are a thousand times a properer man,...
Than the a woman. 'Tis such fools as you,
That make the world full of ill-favour'd children;
'Tis not her glass, but you, that flatter her;
And out of you the fees herself more proper,
Than any of her lineaments can show her.;
But, mistress, know yourself; down on your knees,
And thank heav'n fasting, for a good man's love;
For I must tell you friendly in your ear,

Sell when you can; you are not for all markets.

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Cry the man mercy, love him, take his offen
Foul is most foul, being foul to be a scoffered
So take her to thee, shepherd-fare you well d

Phe. Sweet youth, I pray you chide a year together; I had rather hear you chide, than this man woo

Rof. [afide.] He's fallen in love with her foulness, and he'll fall in love with my anger. If it be fo, as fast as she answers thee, with frowning looks, I'll fauce her with bitter words. - Why look you so upon me? Phe. For no ill will I bear you..

Rof. I pray you, do not fall in love with me For I am falser than vows made in wineeh Besides, I like you not. If you will know my house, 'Tis at the tuft of Olives, here hard by.. Will you go, Sifter?-Shepherd, ply her hard-A Come, fister shepherdess, look on him better, And be not proud. Though all the world could fee, None could be so abus'd in fight as he

Come, to our flock. [Exeunt Rof. Cel. and Corin, Phe. Dead shepherd, now I find thy Saw of might;

Who ever lov'd, that lov'd not at first fight?

Sil. Sweet Phebe!

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Phe. Hah: what say'st thou, Silvius!

Sil. Sweet Phebe, pity mee

Phe. Why, I am forry for thee, gentle Silvius.

Sil. Where-ever forrow is, relief would be;

*Foul is most foul, being FOUL to be a fooffer:) The only sense of this is, An ill favoured person is most ill-favoured, when, if he be ill-favoured, he is a scoffer. Which is a deal too abfurd to come from Shakespeare; who, without question, wrote,

Foul is most foul, being FOUND
to be a scoffer:

1. e. where an ill-favour'd person
ridicules the defects of others, it
makes his own appear excessive.
WARBURTON,

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3-Though all the world could fee,

None could be so abus'd in fight as be.] Though all man kind could look on you, none could be so deceived as to think you beautiful but he.

If you do forrow at my grief in love,
By giving love, your Sorrow and my grief
Were both extermin'd.

Phe. Thou hast my love; is not that neighbourly? Sil. I would have you.

Phe. Why, that were Covetoufnefs.

:

Silvius, the time was, that I hated thee;
And yet it is not, that I bear thee love;
But fince that thou canst talk of love fo well,
Thy company, which erst was irksome to me,
I will endure; and I'll employ thee too:
But do not look for further recompence,
Than thine own gladness that thou art employ'd.
Sil. So holy and fo perfect is my love,

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And I in fuch a poverty of grace,
That I shall think it a most plenteous crop
To glean the broken ears after the man
That the main harvest reaps: loofe now and then
A scatter'd smile, and that I'll live upon.

Phe. Know'st thou the youth, that spoke to me ere

while?

Sil. Not very well, but I have met him oft; And he hath bought the cottage and the bounds, That the old Carlot once was master of.

Phe. Think not, I love him, tho I ask for him;

'Tis but a peevish boy-yet he talks well.
But what care I for words? yet words do well,
When he that speaks them, pleases those that hear:
It is a pretty youth-not very pretty-
But, fure, he's proud; and yet his pride becomes him;
He'll make a proper man; the best thing in him
Is his Complexion; and faster than his tongue
Did make offence, his eye did heal it up :
He is not very tall, yet for his years he's tall;
His leg is but fo, and yet 'tis well;

There was a pretty redness in his lip,
A little riper, and more lufty red

Than that mix'd in his cheek; 'was just the difference

1.

Betwixt

Betwixt the constant red and mingled damask.
There be fome women, Silvius, had they mark'd him
In parcels as I did, would have gone near
To fall in love with him; but, for my part,
I love him not, nor hate him not; and yet
I have more cause to have him than to love him;
For what had he to do'to chide at me;
He faid, mine eyes were black, and my hair black :
And, now I am remembred, scorn'd at me;
I marvel, why I answer'd not again;..
But that's all one; omittance is no quittance.
I'll write to him a very taunting letter,
And thou shalt bear it; wilt thou, Silvius ?
Sil. Phebe, with all my heart.
Phe. I'll write it straight;

The matter's in my head, and in my heart,
I will be bitter with him, and passing short:
Go with me, Silvius.

[Exeunt.

ACT IV.

SCENE I.

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Pr'ythee, pretty youth, let me be better acquainted

T

Rof. They say you are a melancholy fellow......... Jac. I am fo; I do love it better than laughing. Rof. Thofe, that are in extremity of either, are abominable fellows; and betray themselves to every modern cenfure, worse than drunkards.

Jaq. Why, 'tis good to be sad, and say nothing

Rof.

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Rof. Why, then, 'tis good to be a post. Jag. I have neither the scholar's melancholy, which is emulation; nor the musician's, which is fantastical; nor the courtier's, which is proud; nor the foldier'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 fimples, extracted from many objects, and, indeed, the fundry contemplation of my travels, on which my often rumination wraps me in a most humorous fadness.

T

Rof. A traveller! By my faith, you have great reafon to be fad: I fear, you have fold your own lands, to fee other mens; then, to have seen much, and to have nothing, is to have rich eyes and poor hands. Jaq. Yes, I have gain'd me experience.

Enter Orlando.

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Rof. 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 Rofalind! Jaq. Nay then-God b'w'y you, an you talk in blank verfe.

[Exit.

Rof. Farewel, monfieur traveller; look, you lifp, and wear strange suits; 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 fwam in a

:

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Gondola.-Why, how now, Orlando, where have

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you

The fashion of travelling, which prevailed very much in our author's time, was confidered by the wiser men as one of the principal causes of corrupt manIt was therefore gravely censured by Afcham in his School

ners.

master

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