Frofty, but kindly; let me go with I'll do the fervice of a younger man In all your business and neceffities. you;' Orla. Oh! good old man, how well in thee appears Adam. Mafter, go on; and I will follow thee Yet fortune cannot recompence me better Changes to the FOREST of Arden. Enter Rofalind in Boy's cloaths for Ganimed, Celia dreft like a Shepherdess for Aliena, and Clown. Rof.*Jupiter! how weary are my spirits? Clo. I care not for my fpirits, if my legs were not weary. It 2 O Jupiter! how MERRY are my spirits?] And yet within the space of one intervening line, fhe fays, fhe could find in her heart to disgrace her man's apparel, and cry like a woman. fhould be,-bow WBARY are my fpirits? And the Clown's reply makes this reading certain. Rof. 317 Rof. I could find in my heart to difgrace my man's apparel, and cry like a woman; but I muft comfort the weaker veffel, as doublet and hofe ought to fhow it felf courageous to petticoat; therefore, courage, good Aliena. Cel. I pray you, bear with me, I cannot go no further. Clo. For my part, I had rather bear with you, than bear you; yet I fhould bear no Crofs, if I did bear you; for, I think, you have no mony in your purse. Rof. Well, this is the foreft of Arden. Clo. Ay; now I am in Arden, the more fool I; when I was at home, I was in a better place; but travellers must be content. Rof. Ay, be fo, good Touchstone: look you, who comes here; a young man and an old in folemn talk. Enter Corin and Silvius. Cor. That is the way to make her fcorn you ftill. Sil. O Corin, that thou knew'ft how I do love her! Corin. I partly guefs; for I have lov'd ere now. Sil. No, Corin, being old, thou can'st not guess, Tho' in thy youth thou waft as true a lover, As ever figh'd upon a midnight pillow; But if thy love were ever like to mine, (As, fure, I think, did never man love fo) How many actions moft ridiculous Haft thou been drawn to by thy fantasie? Cor. Into a thousand that I have forgotten. Sil. O, thou didst then ne'er love fo heartily; If thou remember'ft not the slightest folly, That ever love did make thee run into; Thou haft not lov'd.. Or if thou haft not fate as I do now, • Wearying the hearer in thy mistress praise, Thou haft not lov'd. • Or if thou haft not broke from company 6 Abruptly, Rof. Alas, poor Shepherd! fearching of thy wound, I have by hard adventure found my own. Clo." And I mine; I remember, when I was in "love, I broke my fword upon a stone, and bid "him take that for coming a-nights to Jane Smile; " and I remember the kiffing of her batlet, and the "cow's dugs that her pretty chopt hands had milk'd; " and I remember the wooing of a peafcod inftead "of her, from whom I took two cods, and giving "her them again, faid with weeping tears, wear these "for my fake. We, that are true lovers, run into "ftrange capers; but as all is mortal in nature, fo is "all nature in love mortal in folly." Rof. Thou fpeak'ft wifer, than thou art ware of. Clo. Nay, I fhall ne'er be ware of mine own wit, 'till I break my fhins against it. Rof. Jove! Jove! this Shepherd's paffion is much upon my fashion, Clo. And mine; but it grows fomething ftale with me. Cel. I pray you, one of you queftion yond man, If he for gold will give us any food; I faint almoft to death. Clo. Holla; you, Clown! Rof. Peace, fool; he's not thy kinfman. Clo. Your Betters, Sir. Cor. Elfe they are very wretched. Rof. Peace, I fay; good Even to you, friend. Cor. Cor. Fair Sir, I pity her, And wifh for her fake, more than for mine own, My fortunes were more able to relieve her: But I am Shepherd to another man, Befides, his Coate, his flocks, and bounds of feed Rof. What is he, that shall buy his flock and pasture? Cor. That young fwain, that you saw here but ere while, That little cares for buying any thing. Rof. I pray thee, if it ftand with honefty, I like this place, and willingly could waste Cor. Affuredly, the thing is to be fold; And buy it with your gold right fuddenly. [Exeunt. Changes to a defart Part of the FOREST. Enter Amiens, Jaques, and others. SONG. Under the green-wood tree, Who loves to lye with me, And And tune his merry note, Unto the fweet bird's throat, Come hither, come hither, come hither: Here fhall be fee No enemy, But winter and rough weather. Jaq. More, more, I pr'ythee, more. Ami. It will make you melancholy, Monfieur Jaques. Faq. I thank it; more, I pr'ythee, more; I can fuck melancholy out of a Song, as a weazel fucks eggs: more, I pr'ythee, more. Ami. My voice is rugged; I know, I cannot please you. faq. "I do not defire you to please me, I do de"fire you to fing;" come, come, another ftanzo; call you 'em ftanzo's? Ami. What you will, Monfieur Jaques. Jaq. Nay, I care not for their names, they owe me nothing.-Will you fing? Ami. More at your requeft, than to please myself. Jaq. Well then, if ever I thank any man, I'll thank you; but That, they call Compliments, 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, fing; and you that will not, hold your tongues-- Ami. Well, I'll end the fong, Sirs; cover the while; the Duke will dine under this tree; he hath been all this day to look you. Faq. And I have been all this day to avoid him. He is too difputable for my company; I think of as many matters as he, but I give heav'n thanks, and make no boaft of them. Come, warble, come. VOL. II. Y SONG |