“Ganymede” intervenes to try to help Silvius prevail over Phoebe and win her love. Instead, Phoebe falls in love with “Ganymede.”
Enter Silvius and Phoebe.
SILVIUS 1799Sweet Phoebe, do not scorn me. Do not, Phoebe. 1800Say that you love me not, but say not so 1801In bitterness. The common executioner, 1802Whose heart th’ accustomed sight of death makes 18035hard, 1804Falls not the axe upon the humbled neck 1805But first begs pardon. Will you sterner be 1806Than he that dies and lives by bloody drops?
Enter, ⌜unobserved,⌝ Rosalind ⌜as Ganymede,⌝ Celia ⌜as Aliena,⌝ and Corin.
PHOEBE 1807I would not be thy executioner. 180810I fly thee, for I would not injure thee. 1809Thou tell’st me there is murder in mine eye. 1810’Tis pretty, sure, and very probable 1811That eyes, that are the frail’st and softest things, 1812Who shut their coward gates on atomies, 181315Should be called tyrants, butchers, murderers. 1814Now I do frown on thee with all my heart, 1815And if mine eyes can wound, now let them kill thee. 1816Now counterfeit to swoon; why, now fall down; 1817Or if thou canst not, O, for shame, for shame, 181820Lie not, to say mine eyes are murderers. 1819Now show the wound mine eye hath made in thee. 1820Scratch thee but with a pin, and there remains 1821Some scar of it. Lean upon a rush, 1822The cicatrice and capable impressure 182325Thy palm some moment keeps. But now mine eyes, 1824Which I have darted at thee, hurt thee not; 1825Nor I am sure there is no force in eyes 1826That can do hurt.
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SILVIUS1827
O dear Phoebe, 182830If ever—as that ever may be near— 1829You meet in some fresh cheek the power of fancy, 1830Then shall you know the wounds invisible 1831That love’s keen arrows make. PHOEBE1832But till that time 183335Come not thou near me. And when that time 1834comes, 1835Afflict me with thy mocks, pity me not, 1836As till that time I shall not pity thee. ROSALIND, ⌜as Ganymede,coming forward⌝ 1837And why, I pray you? Who might be your mother, 183840That you insult, exult, and all at once, 1839Over the wretched? What though you have no 1840beauty— 1841As, by my faith, I see no more in you 1842Than without candle may go dark to bed— 184345Must you be therefore proud and pitiless? 1844Why, what means this? Why do you look on me? 1845I see no more in you than in the ordinary 1846Of nature’s sale-work.—’Od’s my little life, 1847I think she means to tangle my eyes, too.— 184850No, faith, proud mistress, hope not after it. 1849’Tis not your inky brows, your black silk hair, 1850Your bugle eyeballs, nor your cheek of cream 1851That can entame my spirits to your worship.— 1852You foolish shepherd, wherefore do you follow her, 185355Like foggy south puffing with wind and rain? 1854You are a thousand times a properer man 1855Than she a woman. ’Tis such fools as you 1856That makes the world full of ill-favored children. 1857’Tis not her glass but you that flatters her, 185860And out of you she sees herself more proper 1859Than any of her lineaments can show her.— 1860But, mistress, know yourself. Down on your knees 1861And thank heaven, fasting, for a good man’s love,
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1862For I must tell you friendly in your ear, 186365Sell when you can; you are not for all markets. 1864Cry the man mercy, love him, take his offer. 1865Foul is most foul, being foul to be a scoffer.— 1866So take her to thee, shepherd. Fare you well. PHOEBE 1867Sweet youth, I pray you chide a year together. 186870I had rather hear you chide than this man woo. ROSALIND,⌜as Ganymede⌝1869
He’s fall’n in love with your 1870foulness. (⌜To Silvius.⌝) And she’ll fall in love with 1871my anger. If it be so, as fast as she answers thee with 1872frowning looks, I’ll sauce her with bitter words. (⌜To Phoebe.⌝) 187375Why look you so upon me? PHOEBE1874
For no ill will I bear you. ROSALIND, ⌜as Ganymede⌝ 1875I pray you, do not fall in love with me, 1876For I am falser than vows made in wine. 1877Besides, I like you not. If you will know my house, 187880’Tis at the tuft of olives, here hard by.— 1879Will you go, sister?—Shepherd, ply her hard.— 1880Come, sister.—Shepherdess, look on him better, 1881And be not proud. Though all the world could see, 1882None could be so abused in sight as he.— 188385Come, to our flock. She exits, ⌜with Celia and Corin.⌝ PHOEBE, ⌜aside⌝ 1884Dead shepherd, now I find thy saw of might: 1885“Who ever loved that loved not at first sight?” SILVIUS 1886Sweet Phoebe— PHOEBE1887Ha, what sayst thou, Silvius? SILVIUS188890Sweet Phoebe, pity me. PHOEBE 1889Why, I am sorry for thee, gentle Silvius. SILVIUS 1890Wherever sorrow is, relief would be.
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1891If you do sorrow at my grief in love, 1892By giving love your sorrow and my grief 189395Were both extermined. PHOEBE 1894Thou hast my love. Is not that neighborly? SILVIUS 1895I would have you. PHOEBE1896Why, that were covetousness. 1897Silvius, the time was that I hated thee; 1898100And yet it is not that I bear thee love; 1899But since that thou canst talk of love so well, 1900Thy company, which erst was irksome to me, 1901I will endure, and I’ll employ thee too. 1902But do not look for further recompense 1903105Than thine own gladness that thou art employed. SILVIUS 1904So holy and so perfect is my love, 1905And I in such a poverty of grace, 1906That I shall think it a most plenteous crop 1907To glean the broken ears after the man 1908110That the main harvest reaps. Loose now and then 1909A scattered smile, and that I’ll live upon. PHOEBE 1910Know’st thou the youth that spoke to me erewhile? SILVIUS 1911Not very well, but I have met him oft, 1912And he hath bought the cottage and the bounds 1913115That the old carlot once was master of. PHOEBE 1914Think not I love him, though I ask for him. 1915’Tis but a peevish boy—yet he talks well— 1916But what care I for words? Yet words do well 1917When he that speaks them pleases those that hear. 1918120It is a pretty youth—not very pretty— 1919But sure he’s proud—and yet his pride becomes 1920him.
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1921He’ll make a proper man. The best thing in him 1922Is his complexion; and faster than his tongue 1923125Did make offense, his eye did heal it up. 1924He is not very tall—yet for his years he’s tall. 1925His leg is but so-so—and yet ’tis well. 1926There was a pretty redness in his lip, 1927A little riper and more lusty red 1928130Than that mixed in his cheek: ’twas just the 1929difference 1930Betwixt the constant red and mingled damask. 1931There be some women, Silvius, had they marked 1932him 1933135In parcels as I did, would have gone near 1934To fall in love with him; but for my part 1935I love him not nor hate him not; and yet 1936⌜I⌝ have more cause to hate him than to love him. 1937For what had he to do to chide at me? 1938140He said mine eyes were black and my hair black, 1939And now I am remembered, scorned at me. 1940I marvel why I answered not again. 1941But that’s all one: omittance is no quittance. 1942I’ll write to him a very taunting letter, 1943145And thou shalt bear it. Wilt thou, Silvius? SILVIUS 1944Phoebe, with all my heart. PHOEBE1945I’ll write it straight. 1946The matter’s in my head and in my heart. 1947I will be bitter with him and passing short. 1948150Go with me, Silvius. They exit.
