How say you now? Is it not past two o'clock? 2149And here much Orlando!

I warrant you, with pure love and troubled brain

2152he hath ta'en his bow and arrows and is gone forth -- 2153to sleep. Look who comes here.

My errand is to you, fair youth.

4.3.42155My gentle Phoebe did bid me give you this.

4.3.52156I know not the contents, but, as I guess,

4.3.62157By the stern brow and waspish action

4.3.72158Which she did use as she was writing of it,

4.3.82159It bears an angry tenor. Pardon me,

4.3.92160I am but as a guiltless messenger.

Patience herself would startle at this letter

4.3.112162And play the swaggerer. Bear this, bear all!

4.3.122163She says I am not fair, that I lack manners;

4.3.132164She calls me proud, and that she could not love me

4.3.142165Were man as rare as Phoenix. 'Od's my will!

4.3.152166Her love is not the hare that I do hunt.

4.3.162167Why writes she so to me? Well, shepherd, well,

4.3.172168This is a letter of your own device.

No, I protest, I know not the contents.

4.3.192170Phoebe did write it.

Phoebe did write it. Come, come, you are a fool,

4.3.202172And turned into the extremity of love.

4.3.212173I saw her hand; she has a leathern hand,

4.3.222174A freestone-colored hand. I verily did think

4.3.232175That her old gloves were on, but 'twas her hands;

4.3.242176She has a huswife's hand -- but that's no matter.

4.3.252177I say she never did invent this letter;

4.3.262178This is a man's invention, and his hand.

Sure it is hers.

Why, 'tis a boisterous and a cruel style,

4.3.292181A style for challengers. Why, she defies me,

4.3.302182Like Turk to Christian. Women's gentle brain

4.3.312183Could not drop forth such giant-rude invention,

4.3.322184Such Ethiop words, blacker in their effect

4.3.332185Than in their countenance. Will you hear the letter?

So please you, for I never heard it yet;

4.3.352187Yet heard too much of Phoebe's cruelty.

She Phoebes me. Mark how the tyrant writes.

4.3.392191Can a woman rail thus?

Call you this railing?

4.3.432195Did you ever hear such railing?

4.3.462198Meaning me a beast.

Call you this chiding?

Alas, poor shepherd!

Do you pity him? No, he deserves no pity. 2216Wilt thou love such a woman? What, to make thee an instrument, 2217and play false strains upon thee! Not to be endured! 2218Well, go your way to her, for I see love hath 2219made thee a tame snake, and say this to her: that if she 2220love me, I charge her to love thee; if she will not, I will 2221never have her unless thou entreat for her. If you be a 2222true lover, hence, and not a word; for here comes more 2223company.

Good morrow, fair ones. Pray you, if you know,

4.3.652226Where in the purlieus of this forest stands

4.3.662227A sheepcote fenced about with olive trees?

West of this place, down in the neighbor bottom,

4.3.682229The rank of osiers by the murmuring stream

4.3.692230Left on your right hand brings you to the place.

4.3.702231But at this hour the house doth keep itself;

4.3.712232There's none within.

If that an eye may profit by a tongue,

4.3.732234Then should I know you by description,

4.3.742235Such garments, and such years: "The boy is fair,

4.3.752236Of female favor, and bestows himself

4.3.762237Like a ripe sister; the woman, low

4.3.772238And browner than her brother." Are not you

4.3.782239The owner of the house I did inquire for?

It is no boast, being asked, to say we are.

Orlando doth commend him to you both,

4.3.812242And to that youth he calls his Rosalind

4.3.822243He sends this bloody napkin. Are you he?

I am. What must we understand by this?

Some of my shame, if you will know of me

4.3.852246What man I am, and how, and why, and where

4.3.862247This handkerchief was stained.

This handkerchief was stained. I pray you, tell it.

When last the young Orlando parted from you,

4.3.882250He left a promise to return again

4.3.892251Within an hour; and, pacing through the forest,

4.3.902252Chewing the food of sweet and bitter fancy,

4.3.912253Lo, what befell! He threw his eye aside,

4.3.922254And mark what object did present itself.

4.3.932255Under an old oak, whose boughs were mossed with age

4.3.942256And high top bald with dry antiquity,

4.3.952257A wretched ragged man, o'ergrown with hair,

4.3.962258Lay sleeping on his back. About his neck

4.3.972259A green and gilded snake had wreathed itself,

4.3.982260Who with her head, nimble in threats, approached

4.3.992261The opening of his mouth; but suddenly,

4.3.1002262Seeing Orlando, it unlinked itself

4.3.1012263And with indented glides did slip away

4.3.1022264Into a bush, under which bush's shade

4.3.1032265A lioness, with udders all drawn dry,

4.3.1042266Lay couching, head on ground, with catlike watch,

4.3.1052267When that the sleeping man should stir; for 'tis

4.3.1062268The royal disposition of that beast

4.3.1072269To prey on nothing that doth seem as dead.

4.3.1082270This seen, Orlando did approach the man,

4.3.1092271And found it was his brother, his elder brother.

Oh, I have heard him speak of that same brother,

4.3.1112273And he did render him the most unnatural

4.3.1122274That lived amongst men.

That lived amongst men. And well he might so do,

4.3.1132276For well I know he was unnatural.

But to Orlando: did he leave him there,

4.3.1152278Food to the sucked and hungry lioness?

Twice did he turn his back, and purposed so;

4.3.1172280But kindness, nobler ever than revenge,

4.3.1182281And nature, stronger than his just occasion,

4.3.1192282Made him give battle to the lioness,

4.3.1202283Who quickly fell before him; in which hurtling

4.3.1212284From miserable slumber I awaked.

Are you his brother?

Are you his brother? Was't you he rescued?

Was't you that did so oft contrive to kill him?

'Twas I; but 'tis not I. I do not shame

4.3.1252289To tell you what I was, since my conversion

4.3.1262290So sweetly tastes, being the thing I am.

But for the bloody napkin?

But for the bloody napkin? By and by.

4.3.1282293When from the first to last, betwixt us two,

4.3.1292294Tears our recountments had most kindly bathed,

4.3.1302295As how I came into that desert place,

4.3.1312296In brief, he led me to the gentle Duke,

4.3.1322297Who gave me fresh array and entertainment,

4.3.1332298Committing me unto my brother's love;

4.3.1342299Who led me instantly unto his cave,

4.3.1352300There stripped himself, and here upon his arm

4.3.1362301The lioness had torn some flesh away,

4.3.1372302Which all this while had bled; and now he fainted,

4.3.1382303And cried, in fainting, upon Rosalind.

4.3.1392304Brief, I recovered him, bound up his wound,

4.3.1402305And after some small space, being strong at heart,

4.3.1412306He sent me hither, stranger as I am,

4.3.1422307To tell this story, that you might excuse

4.3.1432308His broken promise, and to give this napkin,

4.3.1442309Dyed in this blood, unto the shepherd youth

4.3.1452310That he in sport doth call his Rosalind.

Why, how now, Ganymede, sweet Ganymede!

Many will swoon when they do look on blood.

There is more in it. -- Cousin Ganymede!

Look, he recovers.

I would I were at home.

We'll lead you thither. --

4.3.1522317I pray you, will you take him by the arm?

Be of good cheer, youth. You a man? 2319You lack a man's heart.

I do so, I confess it. 2321Ah, sirrah, a body would think this was well counterfeited. 2322I pray you tell your brother how well I counterfeited. 2323Heigh-ho!

This was not counterfeit. There is too great testimony 2325in your complexion that it was a passion of earnest.2326

Counterfeit, I assure you.

Well then, take a good heart and counterfeit to 2329be a man.

So I do; but, i'faith, I should have been a 2331woman by right.

Come, you look paler and paler. Pray you, draw 2333homewards. -- Good sir, go with us.

That will I, for I must bear answer back

2335How you excuse my brother, Rosalind.

I shall devise something. But, I pray you, commend 2337my counterfeiting to him. Will you go?