I'll do the service of a younger man
In all your business and necessities.

Orl. O good old man, how well in thee appears
The constant service of the antique world,
When service sweat for duty, not for meed!!
Thou art not for the fashion of these times,
Where none will sweat, but for promotion;
And having that, do choke their service up
Even with the having: it is not so with thee.
But, poor old man, thou prunest a rotten tree,
That cannot so much as a blossom yield,
In lieu of all thy pains and husbandry.
But come thy ways; we'll go along together;
And, ere we have thy youthful wages spent,
We'll light upon some settled low content.

Adam Master, go on; and I will follow thee,
To the last gasp, with truth and loyalty.—
From seventeen years till now almost fourscore
Here lived I, but now live here no more.
At seventeen years many their fortunes seek;
But at fourscore, it is too late a week:
Yet Fortune cannot recompense me better,
Than to die well, and not my master's debtor.

[Exeunt.

1 Reward.

SCENE IV.

The forest of Arden.

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 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 farther.

Touch. For my part, I had rather bear with you, than bear you: yet I should bear no cross 1 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 2 talk.

1 A piece of money stamped with a cross.

2 Serious.

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 loved 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 loved :

Or if thou hast not sat as I do now,

Wearying thy hearer in thy mistress' praise,
Thou hast not loved :

Or if thou hast not broke from company
Abruptly, as my passion now makes me,
Thou hast not loved.-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 anight to Jane Smile; and I

remember the kissing of her batlet,1 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 2 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.

Cor. And to you, gentle sir, and to you all.
Ros. I pr'ythee, shepherd, if that love or gold

1 An instrument with which washers beat clothes.
" Abounding.

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 succor.

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 1 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 2 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,3

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.
place,

I like this

1 Cares.

2 As far as I have power to bid you welcome.

3 A short time since.