_Ros._ I could find in my heart to disgrace my man’s apparel and to cry like a woman; but I must comfort the 5 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 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 10 I think you have no money in your purse. _Ros._ Well, this is the forest of Arden. _Touch._ 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. 15 _Ros._ Ay, be so, good Touchstone. _Enter_ CORIN _and_ SILVIUS. Look you, who comes here; a young man and an old in solemn talk. _Cor._ That is the way to make her scorn you still. _Sil._ O Corin, that thou knew’st how I do love her! 20 _Cor._ I partly guess; for I have loved ere now. _Sil._ 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,— 25 As sure I think did never man love so,— 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 so heartily! 30 If thou remember’st not the slightest folly That ever love did make thee run into, Thou hast not loved: Or if thou hast not sat as I do now, Wearing thy hearer in thy mistress’ praise, 35 Thou hast not loved: Or if thou hast not broke from company Abruptly, as my passion now makes me, Thou hast not loved. O Phebe, Phebe, Phebe! [_Exit._ 40 _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 a-night to Jane Smile: and I remember the kissing 45 of her batlet and the cow’s dugs that her pretty chopt hands had milked: and I remember the wooing of a peascod instead of her; from 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; 50 but as all is mortal in nature, so is all nature in love mortal in folly. _Ros._ Thou speakest wiser than thou art ware of. _Touch._ Nay, I shall ne’er be ware of mine own wit till I break my shins against it. 55 _Ros._ Jove, Jove! this shepherd’s passion Is much upon my fashion. _Touch._ And mine; but it grows something stale with me. _Cel._ I pray you, one of you question yond man If he for gold will give us any food: 60 I faint almost to death. _Touch._ Holla, you clown!