Haft

"it fits my humour well; but as there is no more "plenty in it, it goes much againft my stomach. any philofophy in thee, fhepherd?"

Cor. "No more, but that I know, the more one fic"kens, the worse at eafe he is; and that he that "wants money, means, and content, is without three

good friends: that the property of rain is to wet, "and fire to burn: that good pafture makes fat fheep; "and that a great cause of the night, is lack of the fun; " and that he that hath learned no wit by nature nor art, may complain of grofs breeding, or comes of a very "dull kindred."

66

Clo. Such a one is a natural philosopher. Waft ever in court, fhepherd?

Cor. No, truly.

Clo. Then thou art damn'd.

Cor. Nay, I hope

Clo. Truly thou art damn'd, like an ill-roafted egg, all on one fide.

Cor. For not being at court? Your reason.

Clo. Why, if thou never waft at court, thou never faw'it good manners; if thou never faw't good manners, then thy manners must be wicked; and wickedness is fin, and fin is damnation: thou art in a parlous ftate, fhepherd.

Cor. Not a whit, Touchftone: thofe that are good manners at the court, are as ridiculous in the country, as the behaviour of the country is most mockable at the court. You told me, you falute not at the court, but you kifs your hands; that courtefy would be uncleanly, if courtiers were fhepherds.

Clo. Inftance, briefly; come, inftance.

Cor. Why, we are still handling our ewes; and their fells, you know, are greasy.

Clo. Why, do not your courtiers' hands fweat? and is not the greafe of a mutton as wholfome as the sweat of a man? Shallow, fhallow;- -a better inftance, I fay: come.

Cor. Befides, our hands are hard.

Clo. Your lips will feel them the fooner. Shallow again; a more founder inftance, come.

Cor. And they are often tarr'd over with the furgery

of

of our fheep: and would you have us kifs tar? the courtier's hands are perfumed with civet.

Clo. Moft fhallow man! thou worms-meat, in refpect of a good piece of flesh, indeed! learn of the wife and perpend; civet is of a bafer birth than 'tar; the very uncleanly flux of a cat. Mend the inftance, fhep

herd.

Cor. You have too courtly a wit for me; 1'll reft. Clo. Wilt thou reft damn'd? God help thee, fhallow man; God make incifion in thee, thou art raw.

Cor. Sir, I am a true labourer; I earn that I eat; get that I wear; owe no man hate; envy no man's happiness; glad of other mens' good; content with my harm; and the greatest of my pride is, to fee my ewes grafe, and my lambs fuck.'

Clo. That is another fimple fin in you, to bring the ewes and the rams together: and to offer to get your living by the copulation of cattle; to be a bawd to the bell-weather; and to betray a fhe-lamb of a twelvemonth to a crooked-pated old cuckoldy ram, out of all reasonable match. If thou be'ft not damn'd for this, the devil himself will have no fhepherds; I cannot fee else how thou should't 'fcape.

Cor. Here comes young Mr. Ganymede, my new miftrefs's brother.

SCENE IV. Enter Rofalind, with a paper.

Rof. From the east to western Inde,
No jewel is like Rofalind

Her worth, being mounted on the wind,

Through all the world bears Rofalind.

All the pictures, faireft lin'd,

Are but black to Rofalind;

Let no face be kept in mind,

But the face of Rofalind.

Clo. I'll rhyme you fo eight years together, dinners, and fuppers, and fleeping hours, excepted: it is the

right butter-womens' rank to market.

Rof. Out, fool!

Clo. For a taste.

If

If a hart doth lack a hind,
Let him feck out Rofalind.
If the cat will after kind,
So, be fure, will Rofalind.
Winter garments must be lin'd,
So mult flender Rofalind.

They that reap muft fbeaf and bind;
Then to cart with Rofalind.
Sweetest nut bath foureft rind,
Such a nut is Rofalind.

He that fweeteft rofe will find,

Muft find love's prick, and Rofalind.

This is the very falfe gallop of verfes; why do you infect yourself with them?

Rof Peace, you dull fool, I found them on a tree. Clo. Truly the tree yields bad fruit.

Rof. I'll graff it with you, and then I fhall graff it with a medlar; then it will be the earlieft fruit i' th' country: for you'll be rotten ere you be half ripe; and that's the right virtue of the medlar.

Clo. You have faid; but whether wifely or no, let the forefter judge.

SCENE V. Enter Celia, with a writing.

Rof. Peace, here comes my fifter reading; stand aside. Cel. Why bould this a defart be?

For it is unpeopled.

No:

Tongues I'll hang on every tree,
That fall civil fayings fhow:
Some, how brief the life of man
Runs his erring pilgrimage,

That the ftretching of a span
Buckles in his fum of age;

Some of violated vows,

"Twixt the fouls of friend and friend;

But upon the fairest boughs,

Or at every fentence-end,

Will I Rofalinda write;

Teaching all that read, to know,

This quinteffence of every fprite

Heaven would in little fhow.

Therefore

Therefore heaven nature charg'd,
That one body should be fill'd
With all graces wide en'arg'd;
Nature prefently diftill'd
Helen's cheeks, but not her heart,
Cleopatra's majefly,
Atalanta's better part,

Sad Lucretia's modefty.
Thus Rofalind of many parts
By heav'nly fynod was devis'd;
Of many faces, eyes, and hearts,

To have the touches deareft priz'd.
Heav'n would that fhe thefe gifts fhould have,
And I to live and die her flave.

Rof. O moft gentle juniper!--what tedious homily of love have you wearied your parishioners withal, and never cry'd, Have patience, good people?

Cel. How now? back-friends! fhepherd, go off a little: go with him, firrah.

Ch. Come, fhepherd, let us make an honourable retreat; though not with bag and baggage, yet with fcrip and fcrippage. [Exeunt Cor. and Clown.

SCENE VI.

Cel. Didit thou hear these verses?

Rof. O yes, I heard them all, and more too: for fome of them had in them more feet than the verfes would bear.

Cel. That's no matter; the feet might bear the verses. Rof. Ay, but the feet were lame, and could not bear themfelves without the verfe, and therefore ftood lamely in the verse.

Cel. But didft thou hear without wondering, how thy name fhould be hang'd and carv'd upon thefe trees? Rof. I was feven of the nine days out of wonder, beyou came: for, look here, what I found on a palmI was never fo be-rhymed fince Pythagoras's time, that I was an Irish rat, which I can hardly remember.

fore

tree;

Cel.

Cel. And a chain, that you once wore, about his neck. Change you colour?

Rof. I pr'ythee, who?

Cel. O Lord, Lord, it is a hard matter for friends to meet: but mountains may be removed with earthquakes, and fo encounter.

Rof. Nay, but who is it?

Cel. Is it poffible?

Rof. Nay, I pr'ythee now, with most petitionary vehemence, tell me who, it is.

Cel. O wonderful, wonderful, and moft wonderful wonderful, and yet again wonderful, and after that out of all whooping.

Rj Good my complexion! doft thou think, though I am caparifon'd like a man, I have a doublet and hofe in my difpofition? One inch of delay more is a South-fea off discovery. I pr'ythee, tell me who is it; quickly, and fpeak apace; I would thou could'ft ftammer, that thou might'it pour this concealed man out of thy mouth, as wine comes out of a narrow-mouth'd bottle; either too much at once, or none at all. I pr'ythee, take the cork out of thy mouth, that I may drink thy tidings.

Cel. So you may put a man in your belly.

Rof. Is he of God's making? what manner of man? is his head worth a hat? or his chin worth a beard? Cel Nay, he hath but a little beard.

Rof. Why, God will fend more, if the man will be thankful; let me ftay the growth of his beard, if thou delay me not the knowledge of his chin.

Cel. It is young Orlando, that tripp'd up the wrestler's heels and your heart both in an inftant.

Rof. Nay, but the devil take mocking; fpeak, fad brow, and true maid.

Cel. I' faith, coz, tis he.

Rof. Orlando!

Cel. Orlando,

doublet

Rof. Alas the day, what fhall I do with my and hofe? what did he when thou faw'it him? what faid he? how look'd he? wherein went he? what makes he here? did he afk for me? where remains he?

how