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Clo. 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. 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 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,

Tho' in thy youth thou wast 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 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 fo heartily;
If thou remember'st not the flightest folly,
That ever love did make thee run into,
Thou haft not lov'd.

Or if thou hast not fate as I do now,
Wearying the hearer in thy mistress praise,
Thou haft not lov'd.

Or if thou hast not broke from company
Abruptly, as my paffion now makes me;
Thou haft not lov'd.

Phebe! Thebe! Phebe!

[Exit Sil.

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 sword upon a stone, and bid him take that for coming a-nights to Jane Smile; and I remember member the kissing of her batlet, and the cow's dugs that her pretty chopt 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, faid with weeping tears, wear these for my fake. 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.

Rof. Thou speak'ft wifer, than thou art ware of. Clo. Nay, I shall ne'er be ware of mine own wit, 'till I break my shins against it.

Rof. Jove! Jove! this Shepherd's paffion is much upon my fashion.

me.

Clo. And mine; but it grows fomething stale with

Cel. I pray you, one of you question yond man,

If he for gold will give us any food;
I faint almost to death.

Clo. Holla; you, Clown!

Rof. Peace, fool; he's not thy kinsman.

Cor. Who calls?

Clo. Your Betters, Sir.

Cor. Else they are very wretched.

Rof. Peace, I fay; good Even to you, friend. 31 Cor. And to you, gentle Sir, and to you all.

Rof. I pr'ythee, shepherd, if that love or goldT Can in this defart place buy entertainment, to Bring us where we may reft ourselves, and feed; Here's a young maid with travel much oppress'd, And faints for fuccour.

Cor. Fair Sir, I pity her,

And wish for her fake, more than for mine own, rod I
My fortunes were more able to relieve her:
But I am Shepherd to another man,

And do not sheer the fleeces that I graze;

My master is of churlish difpofition,

And little wreaks to find the way to heav'n

By

By doing deeds of hofpitality:
Besides, his Coate, his flocks, and bounds of feed
Are now on fale, and at our sheep-coate now,
By reason of his absence, there is nothing
That you will feed on; but what is, come fee;
And in my voice most welcome shall you be.

Rof. What is he, that shall buy his flock and paf

ture?

Cor. That young swain, that you faw here but

ère while,

That little cares for buying any thing.

Rof. I pray thee, if it stand with honesty,
Buy thou the cottage, pafture 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. Affuredly, the thing is to be fold;
Go with me; if you like, upon report,
The foil, the profit, and this kind of life,

I will your very faithful feeder be;

And buy it with your gold right fuddenly. [Exeunte

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Changes to a defart Part of the FOREST.

Enter Amiens, Jaques, and others.

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Jaq. More, more, I pr'ythee, more.

Ami. It will make you melancholy, Monfieur Jaques. Jaq. 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.

Jaq. I do not defire you to please me, I do defire you to fing; come, come, another stanzo; call you 'em stanzo'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 request, 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 song, Sirs; cover the while; the Duke will dine under this tree; he hath been all this day to look you.

Jaq. 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 boast of them. Come, warble, come.

SONG.

Who doth ambition shun,

And loves to lie ith' Sun,

Seeking the food he eats,

And pleas'd with what he gets;

Come hither, come hither, come hither ;

Here shall he fee

No enemy,

But winter and rough weather.

Jaq.

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Jay

Jaq. I'll give you a verse to this note, that I made

yesterday in despight of my invention.

Ami. And I'll fing it.
Jaq. Thus it goes.

If it do come to pass,

That any man turn afs;
Leaving his wealth and ease
A stubborn will to please,
Duc ad me, duc ad me, duc ad me;

Here shall he fee

Grofs fools as he,

An if he will come to me.

Ami. What's that duc ad me?

Jaq. 'Tis a Greek invocation, to call fools into a circle. I'll go to fleep if I can; if I cannot, I'll rail against all the first-born of Egypt.

Ami. And I'll go seek the Duke: his banquet is prepar'd.

Adam.

D

[Exeunt, feverally.

SCENE VI.

Enter Orlando and Adam.
EAR master, I can go no further; O,
I die for food! here lie I down, and

measure out my grave. Farewel, kind master.

Orla. Why, how now, Adam! no greater heart in thee? live a little; comfort a little; cheer thyself a' little. If this uncouth Forest yield any thing savage, I will either be food for it, or bring it for food to › thee: thy conceit is nearer death, than thy powers. For my fake be comfortable, hold death a while at the arm's end: I will be here with thee presently, and if I bring thee not something to eat, I'll give thee leave to die. But if thou diest before I come, thou art a mocker of my labour. Well faid, thou look'st cheerly.

C2

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