Comedy plays; Exiles -- Drama; Fathers and daughters -- Drama; Pastoral drama
But come thy ways, we'll go along together,
And ere we have thy youthful wages spent
We'll light upon some settled low content.
ADAM. Master, go on; and I will follow thee
To the last gasp, with truth and loyalty.
From seventeen years till now almost four-score
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 for GANYMEDE, CELIA for ALIENA, and CLOWN alias
TOUCHSTONE
ROSALIND. O Jupiter, how weary are my spirits!
TOUCHSTONE. I care not for my spirits, if my legs were not
weary.
ROSALIND. 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.
CELIA. I pray you bear with me; I cannot go no further.
TOUCHSTONE. 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.
ROSALIND. Well, this is the Forest of Arden.
TOUCHSTONE. 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.
Enter CORIN and SILVIUS
ROSALIND. Ay, be so, good Touchstone. Look you, who comes here,
a
young man and an old in solemn talk.
CORIN. That is the way to make her scorn you still.
SILVIUS. O Corin, that thou knew'st how I do love her!
CORIN. I partly guess; for I have lov'd ere now.
SILVIUS. 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?
CORIN. Into a thousand that I have forgotten.
SILVIUS. O, thou didst then never love so heartily!
If thou rememb'rest 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,
Wearing thy hearer in thy mistress' praise,
Thou hast not lov'd;
Or if thou hast not broke from company
Abruptly, as my passion now makes me,
Thou hast not lov'd.
O Phebe, Phebe, Phebe! Exit Silvius
ROSALIND. Alas, poor shepherd! searching of thy wound,
I have by hard adventure found mine own.
TOUCHSTONE. 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-night
to
Jane Smile; and I remember the kissing of her batler, and the
cow's dugs that her pretty chapt hands had milk'd; and I
remember
the wooing of peascod instead of her; from whom I took two
cods,
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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