self courageous to petticoat; therefore, courage, good. Aliena. Cel. (L.) I pray you, bear with me; I can 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 I am 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. [All three retire up the L. side of the stage. Enter CORIN and SYLVIUs, r. Corin. (L. c.) That is the way to make her scorn you still. Sylv. (R. C.) O Corin, that thou knew'st how I do love her! Corin. I partly guess; for I have loved ere now. Hast thou been drawn to by thy fantasy? Corin. Into a thousand that I have forgotten. Thou hast not loved: Or if thou hast not talk'd as I do now, Thou hast not loved: Or if thou hast not broke from company, Thou hast not loved.-Oh, Phoebe, Phoebe, Phoebe ! I have by hard adventure found mine own. [All three advance. Touch. (c.) And I mine: I remember, when I was in love, I broke my sword upon a stone, and bid him take that for coming o'nights 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 whom I took two cods, and giving them her 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. (L. C.) Thou speak'st wiser than thou art 'ware of. Touch. Nay, I shall ne'er be aware of mine own wit, till I break my shins against it. Cel. (R. c.) I pray you, one of you question yon man, If he for gold will give us any food; I faint almost to death. Touch. Holloa! you clown! Ros Peace, fool! he's not thy kinsman. Enter CORIN, R. Corin. (R.) Who calls? Touch. (L.) Your betters, sir.' Corin. Else they are very wretched. Ros. Peace, I say: Good even to you, friend. Corin. And to you, gentle sir, and to you all. [TOUCHSTONE retires to CELIÀ, R. Ros. (c.) I pr'y thee, shepherd, if that love, or gold, Can in this desert place buy entertainment, Bring us where we may rest ourselves and feed: Corin. (R.) Fair sir, I pity her, And wish, for her sake more than for mine own, But I am shepherd to another man, And do not shear the fleeces that I graze; Besides, his cote, his flocks, and bounds of feed. Ros. What is he, that shall buy his flock and pas ture? Corin. That young swain, that you saw here erewhile, That little cares for buying any thing. Ros. I pray thee, if it stand with honesty, Corin. Assuredly the thing is to be sold! [Exeunt, R. SCENE VI.-Another part of the Forest. Enter ORLANDO and ADAM, L. Adam. (L.) Dear master, I can go no further: O, I die for food! Here lie I down, and measure out my grave. Farewell, kind master. Orl. 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 sake 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 said! thou look'st cheerly; and I'll be with thee quickly. Yet thou liest in the bleak air: come, I will bear thee to some shelter; [lifting him up] and thou shalt not die for lack of a dinner, if there live any thing in this desert. Cheerly, good Adam. [Bearing him away, L., scene, changes, SCENE VII.-Another part of the Forest.-A Table et out. Enter DUKE, Senior, AMIENS, and LORDS, R. Duke. (c.) I think he is transform'd into a beast; For I can no where find him like a man. I Lord. (R.) My lord, he is but even now gone hence; Here was he merry hearing of a song. Duke. If he, compact of jars, grow musical, We shall have shortly discord in the spheres :Go, seek him; tell him I would speak with him. Enter JAQUES, L. 1 Lord. He saves my labour, by his own approach. Duke. Why, how now, monsieur! what a life is this, That your poor friends must woo your company? What, you look merrily. Jaques. (L.) A fool, a fool!rest, A motley fool-a miserable world! As I do live by food, I met a fool; -I met a fool i' the fo Who laid him down, and bask'd him in the sun, In good set terms and yet a motley fool. "Good-morrow, fool," quoth I: "No, sir," quoth he, "Call me not fool, till Heaven hath sent me fortune :' And then he drew a dial from his poke; And looking on it with lack-lustre eye, Thus may we see,' quoth he, "how the world wags: An hour by his dial.-O noble fool! A worthy fool! Motley's the only wear. [All retire to the table. Enter ORLANDO, with his sword drawn, L. Orl. (L.) Forbear, and eat no more! Orl. Nor shalt not, till necessity be served. Jaques. Of what kind should this cock come of? Duke. [Coming forward.] Art thou thus bolden'd, man, by thy distress; Or else a rude despiser of good manners, Orl. You touch'd my vein at first; the thorny poin Of bare distress hath ta'en from me the show Of smooth civility; yet am I in-land bred, Till I and my affairs are answered. Duke. (R. C.) What would you have? Your gentleness shall force, More than your force move us to gentleness. Orl. (L. c.) I almost die for food, and let me have it. Of stern commandment: but whate'er you are, Under the shade of melancholy boughs, Lose and neglect the creeping hours of time: If ever been where bells have knoll'd to church; Orl. Then but forbear your food a little while, Duke. Go find him out, And we will nothing waste till your return. Orl. I thank ye; and be bless'd for your good com fort! [Exit, L. |