[Act 3, Scene 2]
Hang there my verse, in witnesse of my loue,
And thou thrice crowned Queene of night suruey
With thy chaste eye, from thy pale spheare aboue
Thy Huntresse name, that my full life doth sway.
Rosalind, these Trees shall be my Bookes,
And in their barkes my thoughts Ile charracter,
That euerie eye, which in this Forrest lookes,
Shall see thy vertue witnest euery where.
Orlando, carue on euery Tree,
The faire, the chaste, and vnexpressiue shee.
Enter Corin & Clowne.
And how like you this shepherds life M
Truely Shepheard, in respect of it selfe, it is a
good life; but in respect that it is a shepheards life, it is
naught. In respect that it is solitary, I like it verie well:
but in respect that it is priuate, it is a very vild life. Now
in respect it is in the fields, it pleaseth mee well: but in
respect it is not in the Court, it is tedious. As it is a spare
life (looke you) it fits my humor well: but as there is no
more plentie in it, it goes much against my stomacke.
Has't any Philosophie in thee shepheard
No more, but that I know the more one sickens,
the worse at ease he is: and that hee that wants money,
meanes, and content, is without three good frends. That
the propertie of raine is to wet, and fire to burne: That
pood pasture makes fat sheepe: and that a great cause of
the night, is lacke of the Sunne: That hee that hath lear
no wit by Nature, nor Art, may complaine of good
breeding, or comes of a very dull kindred.
Such a one is a naturall Philosopher:
Was't euer in Court, Shepheard?
Then thou art damn'd.
Nay, I hope.
Truly thou art damn'd, like an ill roasted Egge,
all on one side.
For not being at Court? your reason.
Why, if thou neuer was't at Court, thou neuer
saw'st good manners: if thou neuer saw'st good maners,
then thy manners must be wicked, and wickednes is sin,
and sinne is damnation: Thou art in a parlous state shep
Not a whit
Touchstone, those that are good ma
at the Court, are as ridiculous in the Countrey, as
the behauiour of the Countrie is most mockeable at the
Court. You told me, you salute not at the Court, but
you kisse your hands; that courtesie would be vncleanlie
if Courtiers were shepheards.
Instance, briefly: come, instance.
Why we are still handling our Ewes, and their
Fels you know are greasie.
Why do not your Courtiers hands sweate? And
is not the grease of a Mutton, as wholesome as the sweat
of a man? Shallow, shallow: A better instance I say:
Besides, our hands are hard.
Your lips wil feele them the sooner. Shallow a
gen: a more sounder instance, come.
And they are often tarr'd ouer, with the surgery
of our sheepe: and would you haue vs kisse Tarre? The
Courtiers hands are perfum'd with Ciuet.
Most shallow man: Thou wormes meate in re
spect of a good peece of flesh indeed: learne of the wise
and perpend: Ciuet is of a baser birth then Tarre, the
verie vncleanly fluxe of a Cat. Mend the instance Shep
You haue too Courtly a wit, for me, Ile rest.
Wilt thou rest damn'd? God helpe thee shallow
man: God make incision in thee, thou art raw.
Sir, I am a true Labourer, I earne that I eate: get
that I weare; owe no man hate, enuie no mans happi
nesse: glad of other mens good content with my harme:
and the greatest of my pride, is to see my Ewes graze, &
my Lambes sucke.
That is another simple sinne in you, to bring the
Ewes and the Rammes together, and to offer to get your
liuing, by the copulation of Cattle, to be bawd to a Bel
weather, and to betray a shee‑Lambe of a tweluemonth
to a crooked‑pated olde Cuckoldly Ramme, out of all
reasonable match. If thou bee'st not damn'd for this, the
diuell himselfe will haue no shepherds, I cannot see else
how thou shouldst scape.
Heere comes yong M
Ganimed, my new Mistris
From the east to westerne Inde,
no jewel is like Rosalinde,
Hir worth being mounted on the winde,
through all the world beares Rosalinde.
All the pictures fairest Linde,
are but blacke to Rosalinde:
Let no face bee kept in mind,
but the faire of Rosalinde.
Ile rime you so, eight yeares together; dinners,
and suppers, and sleeping hours excepted: it is the right
Butter‑womens ranke to Market.
For a taste.
If a Hart doe lacke a Hinde,
Let him seeke out Rosalinde:
If the Cat will after kinde,
so be sure will Rosalinde:
Wintred garments must be linde,
so must slender Rosalinde:
They that reap must sheafe and binde,
then to cart with Rosalinde.
Sweetest nut, hath sowrest rinde,
such a nut is Rosalinde.
He that sweetest rose will finde,
must finde Loues pricke, & Rosalinde.
This is the verie false gallop of Verses, why doe you in
fect your selfe with them
Peace you dull foole, I found them on a tree.
Truely the tree yeelds bad fruite.
Ile graffe it with you, and then I shall graffe it
with a Medler: then it will be the earliest fruit i'th coun
try: for you'l be rotten ere you bee halfe ripe, and that's
the right vertue of the Medler.
You haue said: but whether wisely or no, let the
Enter Celia with a writing.
Peace, here comes my sister reading, stand aside.
Why should this Desert bee,
for it is vnpeopled? Noe:
Tonges Ile hang on euerie tree,
that shall ciuill sayings shoe.
Some, how briefe the Life of man
runs his erring pilgrimage,
That the stretching of a span,
buckles in his summe of age.
Some of violated vowes,
twixt the soules of friend, and friend:
But vpon the fairest bowes,
or at euerie sentence end;
Will I Rosalinda write,
teaching all that reade, to know
The quintessence of euerie sprite,
heauen would in little show.
Therefore heauen Nature charg'd,
that one bodie should be fill'd
With all Graces wide enlarg'd,
nature presently distill'd
Helens cheeke, but not his heart,
Attalanta's better part,
Rosalinde of manie parts,
by Heauenly Synode was deuis'd,
Of manie faces, eyes, and hearts,
to haue the touches deerest pris'd.
Heauen would that shee these gifts should haue,
and I to liue and die her slaue.
O most gentle Iupiter, what tedious homilie of
Loue haue you wearied your parishioners withall, and
neuer cri'de, haue patience good people.
How now backe friends: Shepheard, go off a lit
tle: go with him sirrah.
Come Shepheard, let vs make an honorable re
treit, though not with bagge and baggage, yet with
scrip and scrippage.
Didst thou heare these verses?
O yes, I heard them all, and more too, for some
of them had in them more feete then the Verses would
That's no matter: the feet might beare yͤ verses.
I, but the feet were lame, and could not beare
themselues without the verse, and therefore stood lame
ly in the verse.
But didst thou heare without wondering, how
thy name should be hang'd and carued vpon these trees?
I was seuen of the nine daies out of the wonder,
before you came: for looke heere what I found on a
Palme tree; I was neuer so berim'd since
that I was an Irish Rat, which I can hardly remember.
Tro you, who hath done this?
Is it a man?
And a chaine that you once wore about his neck:
change you colour?
I pre'thee who?
O Lord, Lord, it is a hard matter for friends to
meete; but Mountaines may bee remoou'd with Earth
quakes, and so encounter.
Nay, but who is it?
Is it possible?
Nay, I pre'thee now, with most petitionary ve
hemence, tell me who it is.
O wonderfull, wonderfull, and most wonderfull
wonderfull, and yet againe wonderful, and after that out
of all hooping.
Good my complection, dost thou think though
I am caparison'd like a man, I haue a doublet and hose in
my disposition? One inch of delay more, is a South‑sea
of discouerie. I pre'thee tell me, who is it quickely, and
speake apace: I would thou couldst stammer, that thou
might'st powre this conceal'd man out of thy mouth, as
Wine comes out of a narrow‑mouth'd bottle: either too
much at once, or none at all. I pre'thee take the Corke
out of thy mouth, that I may drinke thy tydings.
So you may put a man in your belly.
Is he of Gods making? What manner of man?
Is his head worth a hat? Or his chin worth a beard?
Nay, he hath but a little beard.
Why God will send more, if the man will bee
thankful: let me stay the growth of his beard, if thou
delay me not the knowledge of his chin.
It is yong
Orlando, that tript vp the Wrastlers
heeles, and your heart, both in an instant.
Nay, but the diuell take mocking: speake sadde
brow, and true maid.
I'faith (Coz) tis he.
Alas the day, what shall I do with my doublet &
hose? What did he when thou saw'st him? What sayde
he? How look'd he
? Wherein went he? What makes hee
heere? Did he aske for me? Where remaines he? How
parted he with thee
? And when shalt thou see him a
gaine? Answer me in one vvord.
You must borrow me Gargantuas mouth first:
'tis a Word too great for any mouth of this Ages size, to
say I and no, to these particulars, is more then to answer
in a Catechisme.
But doth he know that I am in this Forrest, and
in mans apparrell? Looks he as freshly, as he did the day
It is as easie to count Atomies as to resolue the
propositions of a Louer: but take a taste of my finding
him, and rellish it with good obseruance. I found him
vnder a tree like a drop'd Acorne.
It may vvel be cal'd Ioues tree, when it droppes
Giue me audience, good Madam.
There lay hee stretch'd along like a Wounded
Though it be pittie to see such a sight, it vvell
becomes the ground.
Cry holla, to the tongue, I prethee: it curuettes
vnseasonably. He was furnish'd like a Hunter.
O ominous, he comes to kill my Hart.
I would sing my song without a burthen, thou
bring'st me out of tune.
Do you not know I am a woman, when I thinke,
I must speake: sweet, say on.
Enter Orlando & Iaques.
You bring me out.
Soft, comes he not heere?
'Tis he, slinke by, and note him.
I thanke you for your company, but good faith
I had as liefe haue beene my selfe alone.
And so had I: but yet for fashion sake
I thanke you too, for your societie.
God buy you, let's meet as little as we can.
I do desire we may be better strangers.
I pray you marre no more trees vvith Writing
Loue‑songs in their barkes.
I pray you marre no moe of my verses with rea
ding them ill‑fauouredly.
Rosalinde is your loues name?
I do not like her name.
There was no thought of pleasing you when she
What stature is she of?
Iust as high as my heart.
You are ful of prety answers: haue you not bin ac
quainted with goldsmiths wiues, & cond
out of rings
Not so: but I answer you right painted cloath,
from whence you haue studied your questions.
You haue a nimble wit; I thinke 'twas made of
Attalanta's heeles. Will you sitte downe with me, and
wee two, will raile against our Mistris the world, and all
I wil chide no breather in the world but my selfe
against whom I know
The worst fault you haue, is to be in loue.
'Tis a fault I will not change, for your best ver
tue: I am wearie of you.
By my troth, I was seeking for a Foole, when I
He is drown'd in the brooke, looke but in, and
you shall see him.
There I shal see mine owne figure.
Which I take to be either a foole, or a Cipher.
Ile tarrie no longer with you, farewell good sig
I am glad of your departure: Adieu good Mon
I wil speake to him like a sawcie Lacky. and vn
der that habit play the knaue with him, do you hear For
Verie wel, what would you?
I pray you, what i'st a clocke?
You should aske me what time o'day: there's no
clocke in the Forrest.
Then there is no true Louer in the Forrest, else
sighing euerie minute, and groaning euerie houre wold
detect the lazie foot of time, as wel as a clocke.
And why not the swift foote of time? Had not
that bin as proper?
By no meanes sir; Time trauels in diuers paces,
with diuers persons: Ile tel you who Time ambles with
all, who Time trots withal, who Time gallops withal,
and who he stands stil withal.
I prethee, who doth he trot withal
Marry he trots hard with a yong maid, between
the contract of her marriage, and the day it is solemnizd:
if the interim be but a sennight, Times pace is so hard,
that it seemes the length of seuen yeare.
Who ambles Time withal?
With a Priest that lacks Latine, and a rich man
that hath not the Gowt: for the one sleepes easily be
cause he cannot study, and the other liues merrily, be
cause he feeles no paine: the one lacking the burthen of
leane and wasteful Learning; the other knowing no bur
then of heauie tedious penurie. These Time ambles
Who doth he gallop withal?
With a theefe to the gallowes: for though hee
go as softly as foot can fall, he thinkes himselfe too soon
Who staies it stil withal?
With Lawiers in the vacation: for they sleepe
betweene Terme and Terme, and then they perceiue not
how time moues.
Where dwel you prettie youth?
With this Shepheardesse my sister: heere in the
skirts of the Forrest, like fringe vpon a petticoat.
Are you natiue of this place?
As the Conie that you see dwell where shee is
Your accent is something finer, then you could
purchase in so remoued a dwelling.
I haue bin told so of many: but indeed, an olde
religious Vnckle of mine taught me to speake, who was
in his youth an inland man, one that knew Courtship too
well: for there he fel in loue. I haue heard him read ma
ny Lectors against it, and I thanke God, I am not a Wo
man to be touch'd with so many giddie offences as hee
hath generally tax'd their whole sex withal.
Can you remember any of the principall euils,
that he laid to the charge of women?
There were none principal, they were all like
one another, as halfe pence are, euerie one fault seeming
monstrous, til his fellow‑fault came to match it.
I prethee recount some of them.
No: I wil not cast away my physick, but on those
that are sicke. There is a man haunts the Forrest, that a
buses our yong plants with caruing
Rosalinde on their
barkes; hangs Oades vpon Hauthornes, and Elegies on
brambles; all (forsooth) defying the name of
If I could meet that Fancie‑monger, I would giue him
some good counsel, for he seemes to haue the Quotidian
of Loue vpon him.
I am he that is so Loue‑shak'd, I pray you tel
me your remedie.
There is none of my Vnckles markes vpon you:
he taught me how to know a man in loue: in which cage
of rushes, I am sure you art not prisoner.
What were his markes?
A leane cheeke, which you haue not: a blew eie
and sunken, which you haue not: an vnquestionable spi
rit, which you haue not: a beard neglected, which you
haue not: (but I pardon you for that, for simply your ha
uing in beard, is a yonger brothers reuennew) then your
hose should be vngarter'd, your bonnet vnbanded, your
sleeue vnbutton'd, your shoo vnti'de, and euerie thing
about you, demonstrating a carelesse desolation: but you
are no such man; you are rather point deuice in your ac
coustrements, as louing your selfe, then seeming the Lo
uer of any other.
Faire youth, I would I could make thee beleeue
Me beleeue it? You may assoone make her that
you Loue beleeue it, which I warrant she is apter to do,
then to confesse she do's: that is one of the points, in the
which women stil giue the lie to their consciences. But
in good sooth, are you he that hangs the verses on the
Rosalind is so admired?
I sweare to thee youth, by the white hand of
Rosalind, I am that he, that vnfortunate he.
But are you so much in loue, as your rimes speak?
Neither rime nor reason can expresse how much.
Loue is meerely a madnesse, and I tel you, de
serues as wel a darke house, and a whip, as madmen do:
and the reason why they are not so punish'd and cured, is
that the Lunacie is so ordinarie, that the whippers are in
loue too: yet I professe curing it by counsel.
Did you euer cure any so?
Yes one, and in this manner. Hee was to ima
gine me his Loue, his Mistris: and I set him euerie day
to woe me. At which time would I, being but a moonish
youth, greeue, be effeminate, changeable, longing, and
liking, proud, fantastical, apish, shallow, inconstant, ful
of teares, full of smiles; for euerie passion something, and
for no passion truly any thing, as boyes and women are
for the most part, cattle of this colour: would now like
him, now loath him: then entertaine him, then forswear
him: now weepe for him, then spit at him; that I draue
my Sutor from his mad humor of loue, to a liuing humor
of madnes, w
c was to forsweare the ful stream of yͤ world,
and to liue in a nooke meerly Monastick: and thus I cur'd
him, and this way wil I take vpon mee to wash your Li
uer as cleane as a sound sheepes heart, that there shal not
be one spot of Loue in't.
I would not be cured, youth.
I would cure you, if you would but call me
, and come euerie day to my Coat, and woe me.
Now by the faith of my loue, I will; Tel me
where it is.
Go with me to it, and Ile shew it you: and by
the way, you shal tell me, where in the Forrest you liue:
Wil you go
With all my heart, good youth.
Nay, you must call mee
Rosalind: Come sister,
will you go?