The Forest of Arden. |
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Enter ROSALIND in boy's clothes, CELIA dressed like a shepherdess, and TOUCHSTONE. |
Ros. O Jupiter! how weary are my spirits. |
Touch. I care not for my spirits if my legs were not weary. |
Ros. I could find it in my heart to disgrace my man's apparel and to cry like a woman; but I must comfort the weaker vessel, as doublet and hose ought to show itself courageous to petticoat: therefore, courage, good Aliena. |
Cel. I pray you, bear with me: I cannot go no further. |
Touch. For my part, I had rather bear with you than bear you; yet I should bear no cross if I did bear you, for I think you have no money in your purse. |
Ros. Well, this is the forest of Arden. |
Touch. Ay, now am I in Arden; the more fool I: when I was at home, I was in a better place: but travellers must be content. |
Ros. Ay, be so, good Touchstone. Look you, who comes here; a young man and an old in solemn talk. |
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Enter CORIN and SILVIUS. |
Cor. That is the way to make her scorn you still. |
Sil. O Corin, that thou knew'st how I do love her! |
Cor. I partly guess, for I have lov'd ere now. |
Sil. No, Corin; being old, thou canst not guess, |
Though in thy youth thou wast as true a lover |
As ever sigh'd upon a midnight pillow: |
But if thy love were ever like to mine,— |
As sure I think did never man love so,— |
How many actions most ridiculous |
Hast thou been drawn to by thy fantasy? |
Cor. Into a thousand that I have forgotten. |
Sil. O! thou didst then ne'er love so heartily. |
If thou remember'st not the slightest folly |
That ever love did make thee run into, |
Thou hast not lov'd: |
Or if thou hast not sat as I do now, |
Wearing thy hearer with thy mistress' praise, |
Thou hast not lov'd: |
Or if thou hast not broke from company |
Abruptly, as my passion now makes me, |
Thou hast not lov'd. O Phebe, Phebe, Phebe! [Exit. |
Ros. Alas, poor shepherd! searching of thy wound, |
I have by hard adventure found mine own. |
Touch. And I mine. I remember, when I was in love I broke my sword upon a stone, and bid him take that for coming a-night to Jane Smile; and I remember the kissing of her batler, and the cow's dugs that her pretty chopped hands had milked; and I remember the wooing of a peascod instead of her, from whom I took two cods, and giving her them again, said with weeping tears, 'Wear these for my sake.' We that are true lovers run into strange capers; but as all is mortal in nature, so is all nature in love mortal in folly. |
Ros. Thou speakest wiser than thou art ware of. |
Touch. Nay, I shall ne'er be ware of mine own wit till I break my shins against it. |
Ros. Jove, Jove! this shepherd's passion |
Is much upon my fashion. |
Touch. And mine; but it grows something stale with me. |
Cel. I pray you, one of you question yond man, |
If he for gold will give us any food: |
I faint almost to death. |
Touch. Holla, you clown! |
Ros. Peace, fool: he's not thy kinsman. |
Cor. Who calls? |
Touch. Your betters, sir. |
Cor. Else are they very wretched. |
Ros. Peace, I say. Good even to you, friend. |
Cor. And to you, gentle sir, and to you all. |
Ros. I prithee, shepherd, if that love or gold |
Can in this desert place buy entertainment, |
Bring us where we may rest ourselves and feed. |
Here's a young maid with travel much oppress'd, |
And faints for succour. |
Cor. Fair sir, I pity her, |
And wish, for her sake more than for mine own, |
My fortunes were more able to relieve her; |
But I am shepherd to another man, |
And do not shear the fleeces that I graze: |
My master is of churlish disposition |
And little recks to find the way to heaven |
By doing deeds of hospitality. |
Besides, his cote, his flocks, and bounds of feed |
Are now on sale; and at our sheepcote now, |
By reason of his absence, there is nothing |
That you will feed on; but what is, come see, |
And in my voice most welcome shall you be. |
Ros. What is he that shall buy his flock and pasture? |
Cor. That young swain that you saw here but erewhile, |
That little cares for buying anything. |
Ros. I pray thee, if it stand with honesty, |
Buy thou the cottage, pasture, and the flock, |
And thou shalt have to pay for it of us. |
Cel. And we will mend thy wages. I like this place, |
And willingly could waste my time in it. |
Cor. Assuredly the thing is to be sold: |
Go with me: if you like upon report |
The soil, the profit, and this kind of life, |
I will your very faithful feeder be, |
And buy it with your gold right suddenly. [Exeunt. |
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