Page 1982 - Shakespeare - Vol. 2

If the scorn of your bright eyne [50]
Have power to raise such love in mine,
Alack, in me, what strange effect
Would they work in mild aspect?

Whiles you chid me, I did love;
How then might your prayers move? [55]
He that brings this love to thee
Little knows this love in me;

And by him seal up thy mind,
Whether that thy youth and kind
Will the faithful offer take [60]
Of me and all that I can make,

Or else by him my love deny,
And then I’ll study how to die.

SILVIUS
Call you this chiding?

CELIA
Alas poor shepherd! [65]

ROSALIND
Do you pity him? No, he deserves no pity. Wilt thou love such a woman?

What, to make thee an instrument and play false strains upon thee? No to be
endured! Well, go your way to her, for I see love hath made thee a tame
snake, and say this to her: that if she love [70] me, I charge her to love thee.
If she will not, I will never have her, unless thou entreat for her. If you be a
true lover, hence, and not a word; for here comes more company.

Exit Silvius.

Enter Oliver.

OLIVER
Good morrow, fair ones. Pray you, if you know, [75]
Where in the purlieus of this forest stands
A sheep-cote fenc’d about with olive-trees?

CELIA