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Orl. Why, whither, Adam, wouldst thou have me
Adam. No matter whither, so you come not here.
Adam. But do not so. I have five hundred crowns,
Orl. O good old man; how well in three 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 prun'st a rotten tree, That cannot so much as a blossom yield,
i 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.
Enter Rosalind in boy's clothes, Celia dressed like a
Shepherdess, and TOUCHSTONE.
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, ? if I did bear you ; for, I think, you have no money in your purse.
Ros. Well, this is the forest of Arden.
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 comes here; a young man, and an old, in solemn talk.
Enter CORIN and Silvius.
Sil. No, Corin, being old, thou canst not guess,
Cor. Into a thousand that I have forgotten.
Sil. O thou didst then ne'er love so heartily.
[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,' 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.
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 thou art 'ware of.
Is much upon my fashion.
Touch. Holla; you, clown!
Peace, fool ! he's not thy kinsman.
Peace, I say. Good even to you, friend.
Cor. And to you, gentle sir, and to you all.
Ros. I pr’ythee, shepherd, if that love, or gold,
Fair sir, I pity her,
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, his flocks, and bounds of feed,
Ros. What is he that shall buy his flock and
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.
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. [Exeunt.
Go with me;
Who loves to lie with me,
Unto the sweet bird's throat,
Here shall he see
But winter and rough weather. ii. 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 I 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.