Orl. What, of my suite?
Ros. Not out of your apparrell, and yet out of your
suite:
Am not I your Rosalind?
Orl. I take some ioy to say you are, because I would
be talking of her
Ros. Well, in her person, I say I will not haue you
Orl. Then in mine owne person, I die
Ros. No faith, die by Attorney: the poore world is almost six thousand yeeres old, and in all this time there was not anie man died in his owne person (videlicet) in a loue cause: Troilous had his braines dash'd out with a Grecian club, yet he did what hee could to die before, and he is one of the patternes of loue. Leander, he would haue liu'd manie a faire yeere though Hero had turn'd Nun; if it had not bin for a hot Midsomer-night, for (good youth) he went but forth to wash him in the Hellespont, and being taken with the crampe, was droun'd, and the foolish Chronoclers of that age, found it was Hero of Cestos. But these are all lies, men haue died from time to time, and wormes haue eaten them, but not for loue
Orl. I would not haue my right Rosalind of this mind, for I protest her frowne might kill me
Ros. By this hand, it will not kill a flie: but come, now I will be your Rosalind in a more comming-on disposition: and aske me what you will, I will grant it
Orl. Then loue me Rosalind
Ros. Yes faith will I, fridaies and saterdaies, and all
Orl. And wilt thou haue me?
Ros. I, and twentie such
Orl. What saiest thou?
Ros. Are you not good?
Orl. I hope so