Thou tell'st me there is murder in mine eye: 'Tis pretty, sure, and very probable, That eyes, that are the frail'st and softest things, 12 Should be call'd tyrants, butchers, murderers! And, if mine eyes can wound, now let them kill thee; Now counterfeit to swound; why now fall down; The cicatrice and capable impressure 16 20 Thy palm some moment keeps; but now mine eyes, 24 Which I have darted at thee, hurt thee not, Nor, I am sure, there is no force in eyes That can do hurt. Sil. If ever, O dear Phebe, ‚—as that ever may be near,— You meet in some fresh cheek the power of fancy, Then shall you know the wounds invisible That love's keen arrows make. Phe. But, till that time 28 Come not thou near me; and, when that time comes, Afflict me with thy mocks, pity me not; As, till that time I shall not pity thee. 32 Ros. [Advancing.] And why, I pray you? Who might be your mother, That you insult, exult, and all at once, 11 sure: surely 36 17 swound: swoon 23 cicatrice: scar, here 'mark' capable impressure: sensible (i.e., receivable) impression 29 fancy: love Over the wretched? beauty, What though you have no As by my faith, I see no more in you 40 44 48 52 56 That make the world full of ill-favour'd children: 39 dark: without light; cf. n. 60 64 43 sale-work: ready-made work, (hence) work not of the best quality Od's: God save 45 after it: i.e., to accomplish this 48 entame: subdue 51 properer: better looking 62 Foul scoffer; cf. n. 44 tangle: entangle 47 bugle: black; cf. n. 50 south: south wind 61 Cry ... mercy: beg for mercy 64 together: on end I had rather hear you chide than this man woo. Ros. He's fallen in love with her foulness, and she'll fall in love with my anger. If it be so, as fast as she answers thee with frowning looks, I'll sauce her with bitter words. Why look you so upon me? Phe. 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: 70 Besides, I like you not. If you will know my house, 'Tis at the tuft of olives here hard by. Will you go, sister? Shepherd, ply her hard. 74 And be not proud: though all the world could see, None could be so abus'd in sight as he. Come, to our flock. 78 [Exeunt Rosalind, Celia, and Corin.] Phe. Dead shepherd, now I find thy saw of might: 'Who ever lov'd that lov'd not at first sight?' Sil. Sweet Phebe,— Phe. 82 Ha! what sayst thou, Silvius? Sil. Sweet Phebe, pity me. Phe. Why, I am sorry for thee, gentle Silvius. Sil. 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 extermin'd. Phe. Thou hast my love: is not that neighbourly? Sil. I would have you. Phe. 86 Why, that were covetousness. Silvius, the time was that I hated thee; 75 tuft: clump 81 Dead shepherd; cf. n. 92 79 abus'd in sight: deceived by eyesight 89 extermin'd: exterminated And yet it is not that I bear thee love: But since that thou canst talk of love so well, 96 100 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 104 Phe. Know'st thou the youth that spoke to me erewhile? Sil. 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. 108 Phe. Think not I love him, though I ask for him. 'Tis but a peevish boy; yet he talks well; But what care I for words? yet words do well, But, sure, he's proud; and yet his pride becomes him: He is not very tall; yet for his years he's tall: There was a pretty redness in his lip, A little riper and more lusty red 116 120 Than that mix'd in his cheek; 'twas just the differ ence 93 yet.. not: i.e., the time is not yet 100 grace: good esteem, favor 110 peevish: captious 108 carlot: peasant 121 lusty: vigorous Betwixt the constant red and mingled damask. There be some women, Silvius, had they mark'd him In parcels as I did, would have gone near I love him not nor hate him not; and yet He said mine eyes were black and my hair black; 124 128 132 I'll write it straight; 136 The matter's in my head and in my heart: Exeunt. ACT FOURTH Scene One [The Forest of Arden] Enter Rosalind, and Celia, and Jaques. Jaq. I prithee, pretty youth, let me be better acquainted with thee. Ros. They say you are a melancholy fellow. 123 constant: uniform mingled damask: mixed red and white; cf. n. 131 am remember'd: recall 133 omittance is no quittance: omission is no discharge (proverbial) 125 In parcels: in detail 138 passing short: extremely curt |