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 A thievish living on the common road? I rather will subject me to the malice Adam. But do not so. I have five hundred crowns, Hot and rebellious liquors in my blood; Orl. O good old man; how well in three appears 1 i. e. blood turned out of a course of nature; affections alienated. In lieu of all thy pains and husbandry. Adam. Master, go on, and I will follow thee, SCENE IV. The Forest of Arden. [Exeunt. Enter ROSALIND in boy's clothes, CELIA dressed like a Ros. O Jupiter! how weary' are my spirits! 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. 2 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 1 The old copy reads merry; perhaps rightly. Rosalind's language, as well as her dress, may be intended to have an assumed character. 2 A cross was a piece of money stamped with a cross; on this Shakspeare often quibbles. 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. Cor. Into a thousand that I have forgotten. Or if thou hast not sat, as I do now, Or if thou hast not broke from company, 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 chopped hands had milked; and I remember the wooing of a peascod instead of her; from 1 Batlet, the instrument with which washers beat clothes. 2 A peascod. This was the ancient term for peas growing or gathered, the cod being what we now call the pod. VOL. II. 36 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 mortal1 in folly. Ros. Thou speak'st 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. Cor. Who calls? Peace, fool! he's not thy kinsman. Touch. Your betters, sir. Cor. Else are they very wretched. Good even to you, friend. Peace, I say. Cor. And to you, gentle sir, and to you all. Cor. Fair sir, I pity her, And wish for her sake, more than for mine own, But I am shepherd to another man, 1 In the middle counties, says Johnson, they use mortal as a particle of amplification, as mortal tall, mortal little. So the meaning here may be "abounding in folly." Besides, his cote,1 his flocks, and bounds of feed, 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 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 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. 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 Unto the sweet bird's throat, Come hither, come hither, come hither : Here shall he see No enemy, But winter and rough weather. [Exeunt. 1 i. e. cot or cottage: the word is still used in its compound form, as sheepcote in the next line. 2 In my voice, as far as I have a voice or vote, as far as 1 have the power to bid you welcome. 3 The old copy reads: "And turne his merry note." which Pope altered to tune, the reading of all the modern editions. |