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Your brother—(no, no brother; yet the son-
Orl. Why, whither, Adam, wouldst thou have me go ?
Adam. But do not so. I have five hundred crowns,
Let me be your servant :
Orl. O, good old man ! how well in thee appears
And having that, do choke their service up
Adam. Master, go on, and I will follow thee
Than to die well, and not my master's debtor. [Exeunt. SCENE IV.-The Forest of Arden.
Enter ROSALIND for Ganymede, CELIA for Aliena, and Clown, alias 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 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 can go no farther. 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. Enter CORIN and SILVIUS.
Cor. That is the way to make her scorn you still.
Sil. No, Corin; being old, thou canst not guess,
Cor. Into a thousand that I have forgotten.
Or if thou hast not spake1, as I do now,
Or if thou hast not broke from company,
O Phebe. Phebe, Phebe!
[Exit SILVIUS. 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 batler2, and the cow's dugs that her pretty chapped 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. Love, love! this shepherd's passion
Touch. And mine; but
It grows something stale with me,*
And begins to fail with me.5
Cel. I pray you, one of you question yond' man,
If he for gold will give us any food:
I faint almost to death.
1 sat in f. e. 5 A bat used in washing linen. 3 Jove, Jove: in f. e.
4 f. e. give these two lines as one. 5 This line not in f. e.
Touch. Holla, you clown!
Peace, fool: he's not tny kinsman.
Peace, I say.-Good even to you, friend.
Cor. And to you, gentle sir ; and to you all.
Ros. I prythee, shepherd, if that love, or gold,
Fair sir, I pity her,
Ros. What is he that shall buy his flock and pasture?
while, That little cares for buying any thing.
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
Cor. Assuredly, the thing is to be sold.
[Exeunt. SCENE V.-Another Part of the Forest.
Enter AMIENS, JAQUES, and others.
Ami. Under the greenwood tree,
Who loves to lie with me,
Unto the sweet bird's throat,
Here shall he see no enemy,
But winter and rough weather. Jaq. More, more! I pr’ythee, more. Ami. It will make you melancholy, monsieur Jaques. Jaq. I thank it. More! I pr’ythee, more. suck melancholy out of a song, as a weasel sucks eggs. More! I prythee, more.
Ami. My voice is ragged?; I know I cannot please you.
Jaq. I do not desire you to please me; I do desire you to sing. Come, more; another stanza. Call you 'em stanzas?
Ami. What you will, monsieur Jaques.
Jaq. Nay, I care not for their names; they owe me nothing. Will you sing ? Ami. More at your request
, than to please myself. Jaq. Well then, if ever I thank any man, I'll thank you : but that they call compliment is like the encounter of two dog-apes : and when a man thanks me heartily, methinks, I have given him a penny, and he renders me the beggarly thanks. Come, sing; and you that will not, hold your tongues.
Ami. Well, I'll end the song.-Sirs, cover the while; the duke will drink under this tree.—He hath been all this day to look you.
Jaq. And I have been all this day to avoid him. He is too disputable for my company: I think of as many matters as he, but I give heaven thanks, and make no boast of them. Come, warble; come.
Who doth ambition shun, [All together here.