Or at every sentence' end, Helen's cheek, but not her heart; Thus Rosalind of many parts To have the touches 24 dearest prized. Heaven would that she these gifts should have, And I to live and die her slave. Ros. O most gentle pulpiter! what tedious homily of love have you wearied your parishioners withal, and never cried, Have patience, good people! Cel. How now! back, friends: - shepherd, go off a little : -go with him, sirrah. Touch. Come, shepherd, let us make an honourable re 22 In little means in miniature. 23 The commentators have been a good deal puzzled to make out what this better part really was. It must have been that wherein Atalanta surpassed the other ladies mentioned. Now she seems to have been the nimblest-footed of all the ancient girls; so fleet, that she ran clean away from all her lovers, till one of them hit upon the device of throwing golden apples in her way. This would infer exquisite symmetry and proportion of form; and Orlando must of course imagine all formal, as well as all mental and moral graces, in his "heavenly Rosalind." 24 Touches is traits or qualities, or both. treat; though not with bag and baggage, yet with scrip and scrippage. [Exeunt CORIN and TOUCHSTONE. Cel. Didst thou hear these verses? 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 wondering how thy name should be hang'd and carved upon these trees? Ros. I was seven of the nine days out of the wonder before you came; for look here what I found on a palm-tree: I was never so be-rhymed since Pythagoras' time, that I was an Irish rat,25 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? Cel. O Lord, Lord! it is a hard matter for friends to meet; but mountains may be removed with earthquakes, and so encounter.2 26 Ros. Nay, but who is it? Cel. Is it possible? Ros. Nay, I pr'ythee now with most petitionary vehemence, tell me who it is. Cel. O wonderful, wonderful, and most wonderful won 25 This romantic way of killing rats in Ireland is mentioned by Jonson and other writers of the time. So in the Poetaster: "Rhyme them to death, as they do Irish rats in drumming tunes." 26 In Holland's Pliny, Shakespeare found that "two hills removed by an earthquake encountered together, charging as it were and with violence assaulting one another, and retiring again with a most mighty noise." derful! and yet again wonderful, and after that, out of all whooping !27 Ros. Good my complection,28 dost thou think, though I am caparison'd like a man, I have a doublet and hose in my disposition? One inch of delay more is a South-sea of discovery: 29 I pr'ythee, tell me who is it quickly, and speak apace. I would thou couldst stammer, that thou mightst pour 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 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. 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 wrestler's heels and your heart both in an instant. 27 To whoop or hoop is to cry out, to exclaim with astonishment. Out of all cry seems to have been a similar phrase for the expression of vehement admiration. 28" Good my complection" is merely a common inversion for "my good complection," like "good my lord," " dear my brother," "gentle my sister," &c. The phrase here means, no doubt," my good wrapper-up of mystery"; as Celia has been tantalizing Rosalind "with half-told, half-withheld intelligence." Complection for complicator. For this explanation I am indebted to Mr. A. E. Brae. See Critical Notes. 29 Here we have a tale of questions falling as thick as hail upon the devoted Celia. See how many things she is called upon to discover; and then say whether she has not incurred a laborious and vexatious duty by her delay in answering the first question. How plain it is that her inch of delay has cast her upon a South Sea-a vast and unexplored ocean- of discovery. The more Celia delays her revelation as to who the man is, the more she will have to reveal about him. Why? Because Rosalind fills up Ros. Nay, but the Devil take mocking: speak sad brow and true maid.30 Cel. I' faith, coz, 'tis he. Ros. Orlando? Cel. Orlando. 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 looked he? Wherein went he?31 What makes he here ?32 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. 33 'tis Cel. You must borrow me Gargantua's mouth first: 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? Cel. It is as easy to count atomies 34 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 such fruit. Cel. Give me audience, good madam. the delay (increases it, in fact) with fresh interrogatories, whereby Celia becomes lost in a South Sea of questions. - INGLEBY. 30 Speak with a serious countenance, and as a true virgin. 81"How was he dressed?" 32" What makes he here?" is "What is he doing here?" or "What is his business here?" just as before, in the first scene, note 6. 33 Gargantua is the name of a most gigantic giant in Rabelais, who forks five pilgrims, staves and all, into his mouth in a salad, and afterwards picks them out from between his teeth; not swallows them, as White says. 34 "An atomie is a mote flying in the sun. Any thing so small that it cannot be made less." Bullokar's English Expositor, 1616. 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. Cel. Cry, holla 135 to thy tongue, I pr'ythee; it curvets unseasonably. He was furnish'd like a hunter. Ros. O, ominous! he comes to kill my heart.36 Cel. I would sing my song without a burden: thou bring'st me out of tune. Ros. Do you not know I am a woman? when I think, I must speak. Sweet, say on. Cel. You bring me out. Soft! comes he not here? [CELIA and ROSALIND retire. Enter ORLANDO and JAQUES. Jaq. I thank you for your company; but, good faith, I had as lief have been myself alone. Orl. And so had I; but yet, for fashion's sake, I thank you too for your society. Jaq. God b' wi' you! let's meet as little as we can. Jaq. I pray you, mar no more trees with writing lovesongs in their barks. Orl. I pray you, mar no more of my verses with reading them ill-favouredly. Jaq. Rosalind is your love's name? Orl. Yes, just. Jaq. I do not like her name. Orl. There was no thought of pleasing you when she was christen'd. 85 This was a term by which the rider restrained and stopped his horse. 36 A quibble between hart and heart, then spelt the same. |