TOUCHSTONE. That is another simple sin in you, to bring the ewes and the rams together and to offer to get your living by the copulation of cattle; to be bawd to a bell-wether and to betray a she-lamb of a twelvemonth to crooked-pated, old, cuckoldly ram, out of all reasonable match. If thou be’st not damned for this, the devil himself will have no shepherds. I cannot see else how thou shouldst ’scape. Enter Rosalind as Ganymede. CORIN. Here comes young Master Ganymede, my new mistress’s brother. ROSALIND. [_Reads_.] _From the east to western Inde No jewel is like Rosalind. Her worth being mounted on the wind, Through all the world bears Rosalind. All the pictures fairest lined Are but black to Rosalind. Let no face be kept in mind But the fair of Rosalind._ TOUCHSTONE. I’ll rhyme you so eight years together, dinners and suppers and sleeping hours excepted. It is the right butter-women’s rank to market. ROSALIND. Out, fool! TOUCHSTONE. For a taste: If a hart do lack a hind, Let him seek out Rosalind. If the cat will after kind, So be sure will Rosalind. Winter garments must be lined, So must slender Rosalind. They that reap must sheaf and bind, Then to cart with Rosalind. Sweetest nut hath sourest rind, Such a nut is Rosalind. He that sweetest rose will find Must find love’s prick, and Rosalind. This is the very false gallop of verses. Why do you infect yourself with them? ROSALIND. Peace, you dull fool, I found them on a tree. TOUCHSTONE. Truly, the tree yields bad fruit. ROSALIND. I’ll graft it with you, and then I shall graft it with a medlar. Then it will be the earliest fruit i’ th’ country, for you’ll be rotten ere you be half ripe, and that’s the right virtue of the medlar. TOUCHSTONE. You have said, but whether wisely or no, let the forest judge. Enter Celia as Aliena, reading a paper. ROSALIND. Peace, here comes my sister, reading. Stand aside.