If

Phe. Why, I am forry for thee, gentle Silvius.
Sil. Where-ever forrow is, relief would be;
do forrow at my grief in love,

you

By giving love, your forrow and my grief
Were both extermin'd.

Phe. Thou haft 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 canft talk of love fo well,
Thy company, which erft was irksome to me,
I will endure; and I'll employ thee too:
But do not look for further recompence,
Than thine own gladnefs that thou art employ'd.
Sil. So holy and fo perfect is my love,
And I in fuch a poverty of grace,

That I fhall think it a moft plenteous crop

To glean the broken ears after the man

That the main harvest reaps: loofe now and then

A fcatter'd fmile, and that I'll live upon.

Phe. Know'it 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 mafter of.

Phe. Think not, I love him, tho' I afk 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, pleafes thofe 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 belt thing in him

Is his complexion; and fatter 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 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; 'twas juft the difference
Betwixt the conftant red and mingled damak.

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 caufe to hate 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, fscorn'd at me;

I marvel, why I anfwer'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 ftraight;

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

[Exeunt.

Prythee, pretty youth, let me be better acquainted

I with thee.

Rof. They fay, you are a melancholy fellow.

Jaq. I am fo; I do love it better than laughing. Rof. Thofe, that are in extremity of either, are abominable fellows; and betray themfelves to every modern cenfure, worfe than drunkards.

Jag. Why, 'tis good to be fad, and fay nothing.
Ref. Why then, is good to be a poft.

Jag. I have neither the fcholar's melancholy, which is emulation; nor the musician's, which is fantaftical; or 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 thefe; but it is a melancholy of mine own, compounded of many fimples, extracted from many objects, and, indeed, the fundry contemplation of my travels, in which my often rumination wraps me in a moft humorous fadness.

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 feen much, and to have nothing, is to have rich eyes and poor hands.

Jaq. Yes, I have gain'd my experience.

Enter Orlando.

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 Rofalina! Jaq. Nay, then God b'w'y you, an you talk in blank verfe. * [Exit.

Rof. Farewel, monfieur traveller; look, you lifp, and wear ftrange fuits; difable all the benefits of your own country; be out of love with your nativity, and almoft chide God for making you that countenance you are; or I will fcarce think, you have fwam 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 fight more.

Orla. My fair Rofalind, I come within an hour of my promife.

Rof. Break an hour's promife in love? he that will divide a minute into a thousand parts, and break but a part of the thoufandth part of a minute in the affairs of love, it may be faid of him, that Cupid hath clapt him o'th' fhoulder, but I'll warrant him heart-whole.

Orla, Pardon me, dear Rofalind.

R. Nay, an you be fo tardy, come no more in my fight; I had as lief be woo'd of a fnail.

Oria. Of a fnail ?

Rof, Ay of a fnail; for tho' he comes flowly, he carries

his

his house on his head: a better jointure, I think, than you make a woman; befides, he brings his destiny with him. Orla. What's that?

Rof. Why, horns; which fuch 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.

Orla. Virtue is no horn-maker; and my Rofalind is virtuous.

Rof. And I am your Rofalind.

Cel. It pleafes him to call you fo; but he hath a Rofalind of a better leer than you.

Rof. Come, woo me, woo me; for now I am in a holyday humour, and like enough to confent: what would you fay to me now, an I were your very, very Rosalind? Orla. I would kifs, before I fpoke.

Rof. Nay, you were better speak firft, and when you were gravell'd for lack of matter, you might take occasion to kifs. Very good orators, when they are out, they will fpit; and for lovers lacking, God warn us, matter, the cleanlieft fhift is to kifs.

Orla. How if the kifs be denied?

Rof. Then he puts you to entreaty, and there begins

new matter.

Orla. Who could be out, being before his beloved miftrefs?

Rof. Marry, that should you, if I were your mistrefs; or I fhould think my honefty ranker than my wit. Orla. What, of my fuit?

Ref. Not out of your apparel, and yet out of your fuit. Am not I your Rofalind?

Grla. I take fome joy to say, you are; because I would be talking of her.

Ref. Well, in her perfon, I fay, I will not have you. Oria. Then in mine own perfon I die.

Ref. No, faith, die by attorney; the poor world is almoft fix thousand years old, and in all this time there was not any man died in his own perfon, videlicet, in a love-caufe: Troilus had his brains dafh'd out with a Grician club, yet he did what he could to die before, and he is one of the patterns of love. Leander, he would

CA

have

A

have liv'd many a fair year, tho' Hero had turn'd nun, if it had not been for a hot midfummer night; for, good youth, he went but forth to wash in the Hellefpont, and, being taken with the cramp, was drown'd; and the foolish choniclers of that age found it was,Hero of Seftos. But thefe 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.

Rof. By this hand, it will not kill a flie; but come ; now I will be your Rofalind in a more coming-on difpofition; and ask me what you will, I will grant it. Orla. Then love me, Rofalind.

Rof. Yes, faith, will I, Fridays and Saturdays, and all. Orla. And wilt thou have me?

Rof. Ay, and twenty fuck.

Orla. What fay'st thou?
Rof. Are you not good?

Orla. I hope fo.

Rof. Why then, can one defire too much of a good thing? come, fifter, you fhall be the priest, and marry us. Give me your hand, Orlando: What do you fay, fifter? Orla Pray thee, marry us.

Cel. I cannot fay the words.
Rof. You must begin,

-Will you, Orlando

Cel. Go to will you, Orlando, have to wife this Rofalind?

Orla. I will.

Rof. Ay, but when?

Orla. Why now, as faft as fhe can marry us.

Ro. Then you must say, I take thee Rofalind for wife. Orla. I take thee Rofalind for wife.

RofI might afk you for your commiffion, 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., Raj. Now tell me, how long you would have her after you have poffeft her.

Orla. For ever and a day.

Rof.