SCENE III. Before Oliver's House. Orl. Who's there? Adam. What! my young master ?-0, my gentle master, O, my sweet master, O you memory Of old Sir Rowland! why, what make you here? Why are you virtuous? Why do people love you? And wherefore are you gentle, strong, and va liant? Why would you be so fond to overcome O, what a world is this, when what is comely Orl. Why, what's the matter? O unhappy youth, Come not within these doors; within this roof The enemy of all your graces lives: Your brother (no, no brother: yet the son- means To burn the lodging where you use to lie, This is no place, this house is but a butchery; Orl. Why, whither, Adam, wouldst thou have me go? Adam. No matter whither, so you come not here. Orl. What, wouldst thou have me go and beg my food? Or, with a base and boisterous sword, enforce I rather will subject me to the malice Of a diverted blood, and bloody brother. Adam. But do not so: I have five hundred crowns, The thrifty hire I sav'd under your father, Hot and rebellious liquors in my blood; Orl. O good old man; how well in thee appears 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. SCENE IV. The Forest of Arden. Enter ROSALIND in boy's clothes, CELIA drest 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 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. 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, Wearying thy hearer in thy mistress' praise, VOL. II. X Thou hast not lov'd: 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, and the cow's dugs that her pretty chopp'd hands had milk'd: 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 speak'st wiser than thon 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. Touch. Your betters, sir. Cor. Else they are very wretched. Ros. Good even to you, friend. Peace, I say: Cor. And to you, gentle sir, and to you all. Ros. I pr'ythee, 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, And do not shear the fleeces that I graze; Besides, his cote, his flocks, and bounds of feed, Cor. That young swain that you saw here but 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 And willingly could waste my time in it. SCENE V. The same. Enter AMIENS, JAQUES, and others. SONG. Ami. Under the greenwood tree, Who loves to lie with me, And turn his merry note Come hither, come hither, come hither: 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 Jagues I thank it. More, I pr'ythee, more. I |