As You Like It (Folio 1, 1623)
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As you like it.
¶your head, and shew the world what the bird hath done
2110to her owne neast.
¶Ros. O coz, coz, coz: my pretty little coz, that thou
¶didst know how many fathome deepe I am in loue: but
¶it cannot bee sounded: my affection hath an vnknowne
¶bottome, like the Bay of Portugall.
¶affection in, in runs out.
¶begot of thought, conceiu'd of spleene, and borne of
2120ones eyes, because his owne are out, let him bee iudge,
¶how deepe I am in loue: ile tell thee Aliena, I cannot be
¶sigh till he come.
2125
Scena Secunda.
¶
Enter Iaques and Lords, Forresters.
¶Iaq. Which is he that killed the Deare?
¶Lord. Sir, it was I.
2130Conquerour, and it would doe well to set the Deares
¶horns vpon his head, for a branch of victory; haue you
¶Lord. Yes Sir.
2135make noyse enough.
¶
Musicke, Song.
¶
Scœna Tertia.
¶
Enter Rosalind and Celia.
¶And heere much Orlando.
2150Cel. I warrant you, with pure loue, & troubled brain,
¶
Enter Siluius.
¶He hath t'ane his bow and arrowes, and is gone forth
¶To sleepe: looke who comes heere.
¶Sil. My errand is to you, faire youth,
2155My gentle Phebe, did bid me giue you this:
¶It beares an angry tenure; pardon me,
¶And play the swaggerer, beare this, beare all:
¶Shee saies I am not faire, that I lacke manners,
¶She calls me proud, and that she could not loue me
2165Were man as rare as Phenix: 'od's my will,
¶Her loue is not the Hare that I doe hunt,
¶This is a Letter of your owne deuice.
2170Phebe did write it.
¶Ros. Come, come, you are a foole,
¶And turn'd into the extremity of loue.
¶A freestone coloured hand: I verily did thinke
2175That her old gloues were on, but twas her hands:
¶She has a huswiues hand, but that's no matter:
¶This is a mans inuention, and his hand.
¶Sil. Sure it is hers.
¶Like Turke to Christian: vvomens gentle braine
¶Could not drop forth such giant rude inuention,
¶Such Ethiop vvords, blacker in their effect
2185Then in their countenance: vvill you heare the letter?
¶Yet heard too much of Phebes crueltie.
¶Ros. She Phebes me: marke how the tyrant vvrites.
¶Can a vvoman raile thus?
¶Sil. Call you this railing?
2195Did you euer heare such railing?
¶Meaning me a beast.
¶If the scorne of your bright eine¶Alacke, in me, what strange effect¶Would they worke in milde aspect?¶Whiles you chid me, I did loue,¶How then might your praiers moue?2205He that brings this loue to thee,¶Little knowes this Loue in me:¶And by him seale vp thy minde,¶Whether that thy youth and kinde¶Will the faithfull offer take2210Of me, and all that I can make,¶Or else by him my loue denie,¶And then Ile studie how to die.
¶Sil. Call you this chiding?
¶Cel. Alas poore Shepheard.
¶wilt thou loue such a woman? what to make thee an in-
¶dur'd. Well, goe your way to her; (for I see Loue hath
2220loue me, I charge her to loue thee: if she will not, I will
¶true louer hence, and not a word; for here comes more
¶company.
Exit. Sil.
¶
Enter Oliuer.
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