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Your Praife is come too fwiftly home before you.
No more do yours; your virtues, gentle master,
Oh, what a world is this, when what is comely
Orla. Why, what's the matter?
Your brother (no; no brother; yet the fon,
Orla. Why, whither, Adam, wouldft thou have me go?
Or with a base, and boisterous sword enforce
Adam. But do not fo; I have five hundred crowns,
Tho' I look old, yet I am strong and lufty;
Orla. Oh! good old man, how well in thee appears
Adam. Mafter, go on; and I will follow thee
SCENE changes to the FOREST of Arden.
Enter Rofalind in Boys cloaths for Ganymed, Celia dreft like a Shepherdess for Aliena, and Clown. Jupiter! how weary are my spirits? (11) my
I care not
were not weary.
Rof. I could find in my heart to difgrace my man's apparel, and cry like a woman; but I muft comfort the weaker veffel, as doublet and hofe ought to fhow it felf courageous to petticoat, therefore, courage, good Aliena.
Cel. I pray you, bear with me, I cannot go no further.
Clo. For my part, I had rather bear with you, than bear you; yet I should bear no Crofs, if I did bear you; for, I think, you have no mony in your purse.
Rof. Well, this is the forest 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 ftill. Sil. O Corin, that thou knew'ft how I do love her! Cor. I partly guess; for I have lov'd ere now. Sil. No, Corin, being old, thou can'ft not guess, Tho' in thy youth thou waft as true a lover, As ever figh'd upon a midnight pillow; But if thy love were ever like to mine,
(11) O Jupiter! how merry are my Spirits?] And yet, within the Space of one intervening Line, She fays, She could find in her Heart to difgrace her Man's Apparel, and cry like a Woman. Sure, this is but a very bad Symptom of the Briskness of Spirits: rather, a direct Proof of the contrary Difpolition. Mr. Warburton and I, both, concurr'd in conjecturing it fhould be, as I have reform'd it in the Text;weary are my Spirits ?
(As, fure, I think, did never man love fo)
Cor. Into a thousand that I have forgotten.
Or if thou haft not fate as I do now,
Or if thou haft not broke from company,
O Phebe, Phebe, Phebe!
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 fword upon a ftone, and bid him take that for coming a-nights to Jane Smile; and I remember the kiffing of her batlet, and the cow's dugs that her pretty chopt hands had milk'd; and I remember the wooing of a peafcod inftead of her, from whom I took two cods, and giving her them again, faid with weeping tears, wear thefe for my fake. We, that are true lovers, run into strange capers; but as all is mortal in nature, fo is all nature in love mortal in folly. Rof. Thou speak'ft wifer, than thou art ware of. Clo. Nay, I hall ne'er be ware of mine own wit, 'till I break my fhins against it.
Rof. Jove! Fove upon my fashion.
this Shepherd's paffion is much
Clo. And mine, but it grows fomething ftale with
Cel. I pray you, one of you queftion yond man, If he for gold will give us any food;
I faint almoft to death.
Clo. Holla; you, Clown!
Rof. Peace, fool; he's not thy kinfman.
Clo. Your Betters, Sir.
Cor. Elfe they are very wretched.
Cor. Fair Sir, I pity her,
And with, for her fake more than for mine own,
And little wreaks to find the way to heav'n
Rof. What is he, that fhall buy his flock and paf
Cor. That young fwain, that you faw here but ere while,
That little cares for buying any thing.
Rof. I pray thee, if it ftand with honefty,
Cor. Affuredly the thing is to be fold;