only a Welsh clergyman without any regular degree from either ot*
the Universities. See Barrington's History of the Guedir Famili/.
Nichols.
f> . God 'lid tpii — ] i. e. God yield yovi, God reward you.
AS YOU LIKE IT. i6o-
you : — Even a toy in hand here, sir : — Nay ; pray,
be fiover'd.
Ja</. W\\\ you be married, motley ?
Touc/i. As the ox hath his bow/ sir,tlie horse his
curb, and the tkulcon her bells, so man hath his de-
sires ; and as pigeons bill, so wedlock would be nib-
bling.
Jdt/. And will you, being a man of your breeding,
be nrarried under a bush, like a beggar? Get you
to ehureli, and have a good priest that can tell you
what maiTiage is : this fellow will but join you to-
srethcr as thev join wainscot : then one of you will
j)rove a shrunk pannel, and, like green timber,
warp, warp.
Touch. I am not in the mind but I were better to
be married of him than of another : for he is not like
to marry me well ; and not beiug well married, it
\^ ill be a good excuse for mc hereafter to leave my
wife. [ A.sidc.
Jaq. Go thou with me, and let mc counsel thee.
Touch. Come, sweet Audrey ;
AVe nnist be married, or we musthvq in bawdry.
Fart- well, good master Oliver !
Not — <) sweet OJiver,
O brave Olivei-,
Leave me not behi' thee ;
Piut — W'^ind away,
liegone I say,
I» will not to Avedding wi' thee.
{^Exeunt Jaule:?}, Touch iTONE, a?id Audrey.
Sir Oil. "J'is no matter ; nt-'cir a fantastical knave
of them all shall Hoiit me out of my calling. [_R.vlt.
/f/ibow,] i. e. lil'iy'tke. The ancieut yc».i<r iu fuini re-
«eniLi<d a b^XK
1 66 AS you LIKE IT..
SCENE IV.
The same. Before a Cottage*
Enter Rosalind and Celia.
Ros. Never talk to me, I will weep.
Cel. Do, I pr'ythee ; but yet have the grace to
consider, that tears do not become a man.
Ros. But have I not cause to weep ?
Cel. As good cause as one would desire ; there-
fore weep.
Ros. His very hair is of the dissembling colour.
Cel. Something browner than Judas's :^ marry, his
kisses are Judas's own children.
Ros, I'faith, his hair is of a good colour.^
Cel. An excellent colour : your chesnut was ever
the only colour.
Ros. And his kissing is as full of sanctity as the
touch of holy bread.'
Cel. He hath bought a pair of cast lips of Diana :
a nun of winter's sisterhood kisses not more re-
ligiously ; the very ice of chastity is in them.
Ros. But why did he swear he would come this
morning, and comes not ?
Cel. Nay, certainly, there is no truth in him.
Ros. Do you think so ?
^ Something brotvner than Judas's :]] Judas was constantly re-
presented in ancient painting or tapestry, with 7-ed hair and beaj-d.
"^ lyhilh, his hair is of a good colour.'] There is much of na-
ture in this petty perverseness of Rosalind : she finds fault in her
lover, in hope to he contradicted, and when Celia in sportive ma-
lice too readily seconds her accusations, she contradicts herself
rather than suffer her favourite to want a vindication.
* "-^ the touch of holy hread.] We should read heard^
that is, as the kiss of an holy saint or hermit, called the kiss of
chnriti/. This makes the comparison just aqji decent; the oth«r
impious and absurd. WAitDURXpj?. *
AS YOU LIKE IT. 167
Cel. Yes: I think he is not a ])ick-purse, nor a
liorsc-stealer ; but for his verity in love, I do think
him as concave as a cover'd goblet/ or a worm-eaten
nut.
Ros. Not true in love ?
Ce/. Yes, when he is in ; })ut, I think he is not in.
R06. You have heard him swear downright, he
was.
Cel. IFas is not is: besides, the oath of a lover
is no stronger th.an the word of a tapster ; they are
both tlie contirmers of false reckonin2;s : He attends
here in the forest on the duke your father.
J\os. I met tile duke vesterdav, and had much
question^ with hnn : He asked me, of what parentan;e
1 was ; I told him, of as good as he; so he laugh'd,,
and let me go. lint what talk we of fathers, when
there is such a man as Orlando ?
Cet. O, that's a brave man ! he writes brave
verses, speaks brave words, swears brave oaths, and
breaks them Ijravely, quite traverse, athwart* the
heart of his lover r"" as a puny tilter, that spurs his
horse but on one side, breaks his staff like a noble
goose: but all's brave, that youth mounts, and folly
guides : — Who comes here r
Enter Corin.
Cor. Mistress, and master, you have oft enquired
After the shepherd that complain'd of love ;
X
0.9 concavr {;<; a cover'd trohlcl,'] i. c. hollow.
^ much question — ] i. e. conversation.
•* — *— fjiiitc traverse, athimrt. Sec.'] An unexperienced lover is
here coinpared to apiini/ tiller, to whom it was a disgrace to have
his lance broken across, as it was a mark either ol want of cou-
rage or address. This happened when the horse flew on one side,
in the career : and lience arose the jocular proverbial phrase of
spurriii:^ the horse onli/ on one side.
^ nfh'is lover ;J i. e. oi" hismittresfc".
\UL. 111. P
i6s AS YOU LIKE IT.
Who you saw sitting by me on the turf,
Praising the proud disdainful shepherdess
That was his mistress.
Cel. Well, and what of him ?
Cor. If you will see a pageant truly play'd.
Between the pale complexion of true love.
And the red glow of scorn and proud disdain.
Go hence a little, and I shall conduct you.
If you will mark it.
Ros. O, come, let us remove ;
The sight of lovers feedeth those in love : —
Bring us unto this sight, and you shall say
I'll prove a busy actor in their play- [Exeimt.
SCENE V.
Another Part of the Forest.
Enter Silvius and Phebe.
AV/. Sweet Phebe, do not scorn me ; do not,
Phebe :
Say, that you love me not ; but say not so
In bitterness : The common executioner.
Whose heart the accustom'd sight of death makes
hard.
Falls not the axe upon the humbled neck.
But first begs pardon ; Will you sterner be
Than he that dies and lives by bloody drops ?
Enter Rosalind, Celia, aiid Corin, at a distance.
Phe. I would not be thy executioner ;
I fly thee, for I ^^ould not injure thee.
Thou tell'st me, there is murder in mine eye :
Tis pretty, sure, and very probable,^
* Tis pretty, sure, andveri^iyrobahk,'] Siue for surel^'
10
AS YOU LIKE IT. log
That eyes, — that are tlie frail'st und softest things,
Wlio shut tlu'ir coward j^ates on atomies, —
â–ºShould he ealTd tvranls, huteliers, murderers !
Now I do h'own on thee with all my lieart ;
And, it mine eves can wound, now let them kill thee ;
Now counterfeit to swoon; why now fall down;
Or, if thou canst not, O, for shame, for t^hame,
Lie not, to say mine eves are nunderers.
Now show the wound mine eye liath made in thee :
Scratch thee but with a pin, and there remains
vSome scar of it ; lean but U})on a rush,
The cicatrice and capable imj)ressure^
Thv palm some moment keeps : but now mine eyes,
AMiieh 1 have darted at thee, hurt thee not;
Nor, I am sure, there is no force in eyes
That can do Imrt.
Sil. O dear Phebc,
If ever, (as that ever may be near,)
You meet in some fresh cheek the power of fancy,*
Then shall you know the wounds invisible
l^iat love's keen arrows make.
P/ic. But, till that time.
Come not thou near me : and, when that time comes,
AUliet me with thy mocks, pity me not ;
As, till that time, I shall not j)itv thee.
Jios. And why, I pray you ? \^yldvancifig.'] Who
might be your mother,'^
That you insult, exult, and all at once,
Over the wretched - What though you have more
beautv,
■? 77/r cicatrice and cupnblv iiuprn^fnirc — ] Cicatrice is here not
very i)rr)perly used ; it is the scar ofu woiiiul. Capable may iik-hu
litTf — perceptible.
" power o/" fancy,] Faneif is here used for love-
â– ^ U'lu) Jiiiis/it be i/iiur vuittier,'] Jt is coinmoti for thi" poets
to e\j)rtss eruelty Ijy Haviii;^, ot'tliohe vslio t<Miiinit il, thai they
lycre born uf rotkh, <^r tuckltd l)y tigresses. JoiiNStON.
V 'i
170 AS YOU LIKE IT.
(As, by my faith, I see no more in you
Than without candle may go dark to bed,)
Must you be therefore proud and pitiless ?
Wliy, what means this ? Why do you look on
me ?
I see no more in you, than in the ordinary
Of nature's sale-work : ^ — Od's my little life !
I think, she means to tangle my eyes too :—
No, 'faith, proud mistress, hope not after it ;
'^ris not your inky brows, your black-silk hair.
Your bugle eye-balls, nor your cheek of cream,
Tfiat can entame my spirits to your worship. —
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 she a woman : 'Tis such fools as you,
Tliat make the world full of ill-favour'd children ;
'Tis not her glass, but you, that flatters her ;
And out of you she sees herself more proper.
Than any of her lineaments can show her. —
But, mistress, know yourself; down on your knees,.
And thank heaven, 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 t
Cry the man mercy ; love him ; take his oifer :
Foul is most foul, being foul to be a scoffer.'^
So, take her to thee, shepherd ; — fare you well.
Pke. Sweet youth, I pray you chide a year to-
gether ;
I had rather hear you chide, than this man woo.
Ros. He's fallen in love with her foulness, and
" Of}iatHre*s sale-work :] The allusion is to the practice of
mechanicks, whose tvork bespoke is more elaborate than that
which is made up for chance customers.
* Foul i? mostjbul, being foul lo be a scoffer. "l The sense is
The uglij seem most uglij^'iKhen, though ugly, they are scoffers*
AS YOU LIKE IT. J7l
she'll fall in love with my answer : If it be so, as jfast
as she answers thee witii h-ownin^ looks^ I'll sauce
her with bitter words. — Why look you so upon me?
P/ie. For no ill will I bear you.
Ros. I pray you, do not fall in love with me.
For I am falser than vows made in wine :
Besides, I like you not: If you will know my house,
'Tis at the tuft of olives, here hard by: —
Vv'ill you go, sister ? — Shepherd, ])Iy lier hard : —
Come, sister: — Shepherdess, look on him better,
And be not proud ; though all the world could
see.
None could be so abus'd in sight as he.^
Come, to our flock.
[E.x'eunt Rosalind, Celia, and Corin.
Phe. Dead sheplierd ! now I find thy saw of
might ;
JVho ever lovd, that lovd not at first sig/it 9*
Sil. Sweet Phebe, —
Phe. Ha ! what say'st thou, Silvius ?
Sii. Sweet Phebe, pity me.
P/ie. Why, 1 am sorry for thee, gentle Silvius.
»SV/. Wherever sorrow is, relief would be;
If you do sorrow at my grief in love.
By giving love, your sorrow and my grief
Were both extern»in'd. i
Phe. Thou hast my love ; Is not that neigh-
bour!)' r
Sil. I would have vou.
Phe. ^V by, that were covetousncss.
.Silvius, the time was, tliat I hated thcv ;
' thmtfifi (lU t/ie â– wrrrhl could sec.
None could Ih- so af)ux'd in fi<s^lit a.s Ju;'] Though all mankind
tould lfM>k on you, none cctulcl he so deceived as to tliiok you
beautiful hut Uv. Johnson.
^ J)tad shepherd ! lunv I find ihi/ srnv ofvii'^hl ;
^Vho ever lov'ci, that hivM not at lirstsij^'ht ?] The sc-con»l ol
these lines is from Marlowe's Hero and Lcandcr^ 1GU7.
i;2 AS YOU LIKE IT.
And yet it is not, that I bear thee love :
But since that thou canst talk of love so well,
Tliy Company, which erst was irksome to me,
I will endure ; and I'll employ thee too :
But do not look for further recompense,
Than thine own gladness that thou art employ'd,
SiL 80 holy, and so perfect is my love.
And I in such 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 : loose now and then
A scatter'd smile., and that I'll live upon.
Fhe. Know'st thou the youth that spoke to me
ere while ?
&il. 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, though I ask for
him ;
'Tis but a peevish boy :^ — 3 et 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, sure, he's proud ; and yet liis pride becomes
him :
He'll make a proper man : The best thing in him
Is his complexion ; and faster than his tongue
Did make oftencc, his eye did heal it u]).
He is not tall ; yet for his years he's tall :
His leg is but so so; and yet 'tis well :
There was a pretty redness in his lip ;
A little riper and more lusty red
-' Thai Ihe oWcarlot — ] i. e. penmitt, from carl or churl f pro-
btibly ii word of" Shakspcai'c's coinage.
'' — - " peevish l/o^.'] Pi-cvish, in ancient language, signifies
heali, sillij.
AS YOT' LIKE IT. 173
Than that mix'd in his check ; 'twas just the dif-
ference
Betwixt the constant red, and minf^lcd damask.
There be some 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
1 have more cause to hate him than to love him :
For what had he to do to chide at me ?
He said, mine eyes were black, and my hair black ;
And, now I am remember d, 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 ?
S'tl. Phebe, with all my heart.
Phc. I'll write it straight ;
The mutter's in my head, and in my heart :
I will be bitter with him, and passing short:
Cro with mc, JSilvius, \_Exeunt,
ACT lY.
SCENE I. The same.
Enter Rosalind, Celia, (Did Jaq.ues.
Jaf/. I pr'\thee, pretty youth, let me be better
acfjuainted with thee.
Jlfj.s. They say you are a melancholy fellow.
J(tf/. I am so; I do love it better than laughing.
Jl(/.s. 'J'host*, that arc in extremity of eillicr, nvc
id)ominai)l(' fellows; and betray themselves to every
modern censure, worse than drunkards.
JcKj. ^V l)\ , 'tis good to be sad and sav nothing.
174 AS YOU LIKE IT.
Ros. Why then^ 'tis good to be a post.
Jaq. 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 soldier'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 melan-
choly of mine own, compounded of many simples,
extracted from many objects : and, indeed, the sun-
dry contemplation of my travels, in which my often
rumination wraps me, is a most humorous sad-
ness.
Ros. A traveller ' By my faith, you have great
reason to be sad : I fear, you have sold your own
lands, to see other men's ; then, to have seen much,
and to have nothing, is to have rich eyes and poor
hands.
Jaq. Yes, I have gained my experience. .
Enter Orlando.
Ros. And your experience makes you sad : I had
rather have a fool to make me merry, than experi-
ence to make me sad ; and to travel for it too.
Orl. Good day, and happiness, dear Rosalind !
Jaq. Nay then, God be wi' you, an you talk in
blank verse. [E.rit.
Ros. Farewell, monsieur traveller : Look, you
lisp, and wear strange suits ; disable* all the bene-
fits of your own country ; be out of love with your
nativity, and almost chide God for making you that
countenance you arc ; or I will scarce think you have
swam in a gondola.^ — Why, how now, Orlando!
'' ivhich is nice ;] i. e. silly, trifling.
* — — disable — ] i. e. undervalue.
^ — ;^ — «M>H in a gondola.'] That is, been at Venice, the seat at
that time of all licentiousness, where the young English gentle*
AS YOU LIKE IT. 175
where have vou been all this while r You a lover? —
An you serve me such another trick, never come in
mv sight more.
0/7. iNIy fair Rosalind, I come within an hourot"
mv promise.
Ro.s. Break an hour's promise in love ? He that
will divide a minute into a thousand parts, and
break but a part of the thousandth part of a minute
in the affairs of love, it may be said of him, that
Cupid hath clap'd him o'the shoulder, but I warrant
him heart-whole.
Orl. Pardon me, dear Rosalind.
Ro.s, Nay, an you be so tardy, come no more ia
mv sight ; I had as lief be vvooM of a snail.
'Orl. Of a snail?
Jios. Ay, of a snail ; for though he comes slowly,
he carries his house on his head; a better jointure,
I think, than you can make a woman : Besides^ he
brings his destiny with him.
OH. What's that?
R06. Whv, horns ; which such as you are fain to
be beholden to your wives for : but he comes
armed in his fortune, and prevents the slander of
his \\ife.
Of/. Virtue is no horn-maker; and my Rosalind
is virtuous.
Jlo.i. And I am your Rosalind.
Cel. It pleases him to call you so; but he hath a
Rosalind of a better leer tlian you.'
Jxos. Come, woo me, woo me ; for now I am in
a hohday humour, and like enough to consent : —
\\'hat would ycju say to me riovv, an I were your
verv very Rosalind r
men waited tlieir fortunes, debased their morals, and somctimlji
lost their religion.
' a liosalind oj a hdtcr leer iJinn ijvu.'\ i. c. of a better
Itataie, complexion, or eoloiu", than you.
175 AS YOU LIKE IT.
Orl. I would kiss, before I spoke.
Ros. Nay, you were better speak first ; and when
you were gravelled for lack of matter, you might
take occasion to kiss. Veiy good orators, when
they are out, they \v\\\ spit ; and for lovers, lacking
(God warn us !) matter, the cleanliest shift is to kiss.
Orl. Yio\Y if the kiss be denied ?
Ros. Then she puts you to entreaty, and there
begins new matter.
Orl. Who could be out, being before his beloved
mistress ?
Ros. Marry, that should you, if I were your
mistress ; or I should think my honesty ranker than
my wit.
Orl. What, of my suit?
Ros. Not out of your apparel, and yet out of
your suit. Am not I your Rosalind ?
Orl. I take some joy to say you are, because I
would be talking of her.
Ros. Well, in her person, I say — I will not have
you.
Orl. Then, in mine own person, I die.
Ros. No, faith, die by attorney. The poor world
is almost six thousand years old, and in all this time
there was not any man died in his own person, vide-
licet, in a love-cause. Troilus had his brains dashed
out with a Grecian club ; yet he did what he could
to die before ; and he is one of the patterns of love.
Leandcr, he would have lived many a fair year,
though Hero had turned nun, if it had not been for
a hot midsummer night ; for, good youth, he went
but forth to wash him in the Ilellespont, and,
being taken witli the cramp, was drowned ; and the
foolish chroniclers of that age found it was — Hero
of 8estos. But these are all lies; men have died
from time to time, and worms have eaten them, bu^
not for love.
AS YOIT LIKE IT. 177
0/7. I would not have iny right Rosahnd of this
Tiiind ; for, 1 protest, her frown niii;ht kill me.
Ros. By this hand, it will not kill a fly : Ikit
come, now I will he your Rosalind in a more
cominnj-on disposition ; and ask me what you will, I
will jrrant it.
Or/. Then love mc, Rosalind.
Jvos. Yes, faith will I, Fridays, and Saturdays,
and all.
Ori. And wilt thou have me ?
J\os. Ay, and twenty such.
Or/. \Vliatsay"st thou ?
Ros. Are you not good ?
OrL I hope so.
Ro.s. Why then, can one desire too much of a
good thing ? — Come, sister, you shall he the priest,
and marry us. — Give me your hand, Orlando : —
A\'hat do you say, sister ?
OrL Pray thee, marry us.
Ct7. I cannot say the words.
J\os. You must hegin, /nil i/ou, Or/ando, —
Cc/. Go to : Will you, Orlando, have to wife
this Rosalind ?
Or/. I will.
Jvo.s. Ay, but w hen ?
Or/. Why now ; as fast as she can marry us.
Ros. 'J'hen vou must say, — / ta/cc t/wc, Rosa/'md,
for uifc.
Orl. I take thee, Rosalind, lor wife.
J<o.s. I might ask you for your connnission ; hut,
— I do take thee, Orlando, jor my hushand : There
a girl goes before the priest ; and, certainly, a wo-
man's thought runs bcloii' Iier actions.
Or/. So do all thoughts; they are winged.
Jin.s. Now tell me, liow |(Uigyo»i would have her,
after \'ou have possessed her.
Orl. Vol' ever, and a daw
178 AS YOU LIKE IT,
Ros. Say a day, without the ever - No, no, Or-
lando ; men are April when they woo, December
when they wed : maids are May when they are
maids, but the sky changes when they are wives. I
will be more jealous of thee than a Barbary cock-
pigeon over his hen ; more clamorous than a parrot
against rain ; more new-fangled than an ape ; more
giddy in my desires than a monkey : I will weep for
nothing, like Diana in the fountain,^ and I will do
that when you are disposed to be merry ; I will
laugh like a liyen/ and that when thou art inclined
to sleep.
Orl. But will my Rosalind do so ?
Ros. By my life, she will do, as I do..
Orl. O, but she is wise.
Ros. Or else she could not have the wit to do
this : the wiser, the waywarder : Make the doors'*
iijx)n a woman's wit, and it will out at the casement ;
shut that, and 'twill out at the key-hole ; stop
that, 'twill fly with the smoke out at the chimney.
Orl. A man that had a wife witli such a wit, he
might say, — JVif, zvhither ivilt?^
Ros. Nay, you might keep that check for it, till
you met your wife's wit going to your neighbour's
bed.
Orl. And what wit could wit have to excuse that ?
Ros. Marry, to say, — she came to seek you there.
* T tvill tveep Jbr ?iotJii>/g, like Diana in the Jountain,']
Statues, and particularly that of Dianay with water conveyed
through them to give the appearance of weeping figures, were
anciently a frequent ornament of fountains.
^ I will laugh like a hyen,] The bark of the hyena was
anciently supposed to resemble a loud laugh.
"* Make the doors — ]This is an expression used in several
of the midland counties, instead of bar ike door.
* —* — Wit, ivhithcr xvilt ?~\ This was an exclamation much in
use, when any one was either talking nonsense, or usurping a
greater share in conversation than justly belonged to him.
U
AS YOU LIKE IT. 179
You shall never take her without her answer, unless
vou take her without her tongue. O, that woman
tliat cannot make her tault lier husband's occasion,"
let her never nurse her child herself, for she will
breed it like a fool.
Oii. For these twr) hours, Rosalind, I will leave
thee.
Ron. Alas, dear love, I cannot lack thee two
hours.
Orl. I must attend the duke at dinner ; by two
o'clock I will be with thee again.
Ros. Av, Qo your ways, go your ways ; — I knew
what vou would prove ; my friends told me as much,
and I thought no less : — that flattering tongue of
yours won me : — 'tis but one cast away, and so,—
come, death. — Two o'clock is your hour.'
Orl. Ay, sweet Rosalind.
Ros. By my troth, and in good earnest, and so
God mend me, and by all pretty oaths that are not
dangerous, if you break one jot of your ])romise,
or come one minute behind your hour, I will think
you the most pathetical bieak-promise,^ and the
most hollow lover, and the most unworthy of her
you call Rosalind, that may be chosen out of the
gross band of the unfaithful : therefore beware my
censure, and keep your jjromise.
Orl. With no less religion, than if thou wcrt
indeed my Rosalind : So, adieu.
Ros. Well, time is the old justice that examines
all buch offcjiders, and let time try: Adieu!
I Exit Orlando.
Cel. You have simply misus'd our sex in your
love-prate : we must have your doublet and hose
«
^ make her fault her hushamPs occasion,'] Tliat is, rcprc*
•f-nt licr fault as oeca.sioned by lier hubband.
' ihc most patbetital (jtra/i-promiac,] Rosalind means «
lovt'i who»c fuLschood would most dcepfj "//I'd hh mistrcs^.
180 AS YOU LIKE IT.
plucked over your head, and show the world what
the bird hath done to lier own nest.
Ros. O coz, coz, coz, my pretty little coz, that
thou didst know how many fathom deep I am in
love ! But it cannot be sounded ; my affection hath
an unknown bottom, like the bay of Portugal.
Cel. Or, rather, bottomless ; that as fast as you
pour affection in, it runs out.
Ros. No, that same wicked bastard of Venus,
that was begot of thought,® conceived of spleen,
and born of madness ; that blind rascally boy, that
abuses every one's eyes, because his own are out,
let him be judge, how deep I am in love : — I'll tell
thee, Aliena, I cannot be out of the sight of Or-
lando : I'll go find a shadow, and sigh till he come.