If the cat will after kind, They that reap, must sheaf and bind ; Sweetest nut hath sourest rind, Such a nut is Rosalind. He that sweetest rose will find, Must find love's prick, and Rosalind. 130 This is the very false gallop of verses; Why do you infect yourself with them? Ros. Peace, you dull fool; I found them on a tree. Clo. Truly, the tree yields bad fruit. Ros. I'll graff it with you, and then I shall graff it with a medler: then it will be the earliest fruit i'the country; for you'll be rotten ere you'll be half ripe, and that's the right virtue of the medler. Clo. You have said; but whether wisely or no, let the forest judge. Enter CELIA, with a Writing. Ros. Peace! Here comes my sister, reading; stand aside. Cel. Why should this desert silent be? For it is unpeopled? No; Tongues I'll hang on every tree, That shall civil sayings show. Some, how brief the life of man Runs his erring pilgrimage; 140 That That the stretching of a span Buckles in his sum of age. "Twixt the souls of friend and friend : But upon the fairest boughs, Or at every sentence' end, Will I Rosalinda write; Teaching all that read, to know Therefore heaven nature charg'd That one body should be fill'd Sad Lucretia's modesty. By heavenly synod was devis'd; To have the touches dearest priz'd. 150 160 170 Heaven would that she these gifts should have, And I to live and die her slave. Ros. O most gentle Jupiter !-what tedious homily of love have you wearied your parishioners withal, and never cry'd, Have patience, good people! Cel. How now! back-friends?-Shepherd, go off a little-Go with him, sirrah. 1 Clo. Come, shepherd, let us make an honourable retreat; though not with bag and baggage, yet with scrip and scrippage. [Exeunt CORIN, and Clown. Cel. Didst thou hear these verses? 181 Ros. O, yes, I heard them all, and more too; for some of them had in them more feet than the verses would bear. Cel. That's no matter; the feet might bear the verses. Ros. Ay, but the feet were lame, and could not bear themselves without the verse, and therefore stood lamely in the verse. Cel. But didst thou hear, without wondring how thy name should be hang'd and carv'd upon these trees? 192 Ros. I was seven of the nine days out of wonder, before you came; for look here what I found on a palm-tree: I was never so be-rhimed since Pythagoras' time, that I was an Irish rat, which I can hardly remember. Cel. Trow you, who hath done this? Ros. Is it a man? Cel. And a chain, that you once wore, about his neck; Change you colour? Ros. I pr'ythee, who? 201 Cel. O lord, lord! it is a hard matter for friends to meet; but mountains may be remov'd with earth quakes, and so encounter. Ros. Nay, but who is it? Ros. 1 Ros. Nay, I pry'thee now, with most petitionary vehemence, tell me who it is. Cel. O wonderful, wonderful, and most wonderful wonderful, and yet again wonderful, and after that out of all whooping! 212 Ros. Good my complexion dost thou think, though I am caparison'd like a man, I have a doubleţ and hose in my disposition? One inch of delay more is a South-sea off discovery, I pr'ythee, tell me, who is it; quickly, and speak apace: I would thou couldst stammer, that thou might'st pour this concealed man out of thy mouth, as wine comes out of a narrowmouth'd bottle; either too much at once, or none at all. I pr'ythee take the cork out of thy mouth, that I may drink thy tidings. Cel. So you may put a man in your belly. 222 Ros. Is he of God's making? What manner of man? Is his head worth a hat, or his chin worth a beard? Cel. Nay, he hath but a little beard. Ros. Why, God will send more, if the man will be thankful: let me stay the growth of his beard, if thou delay me not the knowledge of his chin. Cel. It is young Orlando, that tripp'd up the wrest ler's heels, and your heart, both in an instant. 231 Ros. Nay, but the devil take mocking; speak sad brow, and true maid. Cel. I'faith, coz, 'tis he. Ros. Orlando ? Cel. Orlando. Fiij Ros. Ros. Alas the day! what shall I do with my doublet and hose?-What did he, when thou saw'st him? What said he? How look'd he? Wherein went he? What makes he here? Did he ask for me? Where remains he? How parted he with thee? and when shalt thou see him again? Answer me in one word. Cel. You must borrow me Garagantua's mouth first: 'tis a word too great for any mouth of this age's size: To say, ay, and no, to these particulars, is more than to answer in a catechism. Ros. But doth he know that I am in this forest, and in man's apparel? Looks he as freshly as he did the day he wrestled? 249 Cel. It is as easy to count atomies, as to resolve the propositions of a lover:-but take a taste of my finding him, and relish it with good observance. I found him under a tree, like a dropp'd acorn. Ros. It may well be call'd Jove's tree, when it drops forth such fruit. Cel. Give me audience, good madam. Ros. Proceed. Cel. There lay he, stretch'd along, like a wounded knight. Ros. Though it be pity to see such a sight, it well becomes the ground. 261 Cel. Cry, holla! to thy tongue, I pry'thee; it curvets unseasonably. He was furnish'd like a hunter. Ros. Oh ominous! he comes to kill my heart. Cel. I would sing my song without a burden: thou bringst me out of tune. Ros. 1 |