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 fcorn you ftill. Sil. O Corin, that thou knew'ft how I do love her! Cor. I partly guefs; for I have lov'd ere now. Sil. No, Corin, being old, thou canst not guess; Though in thy youth thou was as true a lover, As ever figh'd upon a midnight pillow: But if thy love were ever like to mine, (As fure I think did never man love fo) How many actions most ridiculous

Haft thou been drawn to by thy fantasy?

Cor. Into a thousand that I have forgotten.
Sil. O, thou didst then ne'er love fo heartily:,
If thou remember'st not the slightest folly
That ever love did make thee run into,

Thou haft not lov'd:

Or if thou haft not fat as I do now,
Wearying thy hearer in thy mistress' praise,
Thou haft not lov'd:

Or if thou haft not broke from company,
Abruptly, as my paffion now makes me,
Thou haft not lov'd :-Oh Phebe, Phebe, Phebe!.

[Exit Silvius. Rof. Alas, poor fhepherd! fearching of thy wound, I have by hard adventure found mine own.

Clo. And I mine: I remember, when I was in love, I broke my fword upon a stone, and bid him take that for coming o'nights to Jane Smile: and I remember the kiffing of her batlet, and the cow's dugs that her pretty

i batlet,]-an inftrument to beat cloaths with.

chop'd

k

chop'd hands had milk'd: and I remember the wooing of a peascod instead of her; from whom I took, two peas, and, giving her them again, said 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'st wiser, than thou art 'ware of.

Clo. Nay, I fhall ne'er be aware of mine own wit, 'till I break my fhins against it.

Rof. Jove! Jove! this fhepherd's paffion is much upon my fashion.

Clo. And mine; but it grows fomething ftale with me. Cel. I pray you, one of you question yon man,

If he for gold will give us any food;

I faint almost to death.

Clo. Holla; you, clown!

Rof. Peace, fool; he's not thy kinfman.
Cor. Who calls?

Clo. Your betters, fir.

Cor. Elfe they are very wretched.

Rof. Peace, I fay :-Good even to you, friend.
Cor. And to you, gentle fir, and to you all.
Rof. I pr'ythee, fhepherd, if that love, or gold,
Can in this defert place buy entertainment,
Bring us where we may rest ourselves, and feed:
Here's a young maid with travel much opprefs'd,
And faints for fuccour.

Cor. Fair fir, I pity her,

And wish for her fake, more than for mine own,
My fortunes were more able to relieve her:
But I am fhepherd to another man,

k cods.

1.

1 mortal]-abundant-ufed fill in Warwickshire as a term of ampli

fication.

And

And do not sheer the fleeces that I graze;
My mafter is of churlish difpofition,

m

And little recks to find the way to heaven

By doing deeds of hospitality :

Befides, his cote, his flocks, and bounds of feed
Are now on fale, and at our sheep-cote now,.
By reason of his abfence, there is nothing

That you will feed on; but what is, come fee,
And in my voice most welcome shall you be.

Rof. What is he, that shall buy his flock and pasture? Cor. That young fwain, that you saw here but erewhile, That little cares for buying any thing.

Rof. I pray thee, if it ftand with honesty,

Buy thou the cottage, pasture, and the flock,
And thou shalt have to pay for it of us.

Cel. And we will mend thy wages: I like this place, And willingly could waste my time in it.

Cor. Affuredly, the thing is to be fold:
Go with me; if you like, upon report,
The foil, the profit, and this kind of life,
I will your very faithful feeder be,
And buy it with your gold right fuddenly.

V.

SCENE

Enter Amiens, Jaques, and others.

SON G.

Ami. Under the greenwood tree,
Who loves to lie with me,
And tune his merry note
Unto the fweet bird's throat,

recks]-cares, regards.

[Exeunt.

n in my voice]-as I may fay.

Come

Come hither, come bitber, come hither;
Here fhall be fee.

No enemy,

But winter and rough weather.

Jaq. More, more, I pr'ythee, more.

Ami. It will make you melancholy, monfieur Jaques. Faq. I thank it. More, I pr'ythee, more. I can fuck melancholy out of a fong, as a weazel fucks eggs: More, I pr'ythee, more.

Ami. My voice is rugged; I know, I cannot please you. Jaq. I do not defire you to please me, I do defire to fing: Come, more; another stanza; Call you 'em stanzas? Ami. What you will, monfieur Jaques.

you

Jaq. Nay, I care not for their names; they owe me nothing: Will you fing?

Ami. More at your request, than to please myself.

faq. Well then, if ever I thank any man, I'll thank you: but that they call compliment, is like the encounter of two dog-apes; and when a man thanks me heartily, methinks, I have given him a penny, and he renders me the beggarly thanks. Come, fing; and you that will not, hold your tongues.

Ami. Well, I'll end the fong.-Sirs, cover the while; the duke will drink under this tree :-he hath been all this day to look you.

P

Jaq. And I have been all this day to avoid him. He is too difputable for my company: I think of as many matters as he; but I give heaven thanks, and make no boast of them. Come, warble, come.

S ON G.

Who doth ambition fhun,

And loves to live i' the fun,

[all together bere.]

drink]-pafs the afternoon.

P difputable]-difputatious.

१ to live i' the fun,]-to enjoy the pleasures of rural retirement.

Seeking

Seeking the food he eats,
And pleas'd with what he gets,

Come hither, come hither;

Here fhall be fee

No enemy,

But winter and rough weather.

Jaq. I'll give you a verfe to this note, that I made yesterday in despight of my invention. Ami. And I'll fing it. Jaq. Thus it goes:

If it do come to pass,
That any man turn afs,
Leaving his wealth and ease,
A ftubborn will to pleafe,

'Huc ad me, buc ad me, buc ad me;

Here shall be fee
Grofs fools as be,

An if he will come to me.

Ami. What's that, buc ad me?

Jaq. 'Tis a Greek invocation, to call fools into a circle. I'll go fleep if I can; if I cannot, I'll rail against all the firft-born of Egypt.

Ami. And I'll go feek the duke; his banquet is prepar'd. [Exeunt feverally.

SCENE VI.

Enter Orlando and Adam.

Adam. Dear mafter, I can go no further: O, I die for food! Here lie I down, and measure out my grave. Farewel, kind mafter.

Huc ad me,]-A verfion of the burthen of Amiens' fong,
"Come hither," &c.-Ducdamè, Duc ad me.

the firft-born of Egypt.]-perfons of high birth.

Orla.