He will haue other meanes to cut you off;
I ouerheard him: and his practises:
This is no place, this house is but a butcherie;
Abhorre it, feare it, doe not enter it.
Ad
Why whether Adam would'st thou haue me go?
Ad.
No matter whether, so you come not here.
Orl.
What, would'st thou haue me go & beg my food,
Or with a base and boistrous Sword enforce
A theeuish liuing on the common rode?
This I must do, or know not what to do:
Yet this I will not do, do how I can,
I rather will subiect me to the malice
Of a diuerted blood, and bloudie brother.
Ad.
But do not so: I haue fiue hundred Crownes,
The thriftie hire I saued vnder your Father,
Which I did store to be my foster Nurse,
When seruice should in my old limbs lie lame,
And vnregarded age in corners throwne,
Take that, and he that doth the Rauens feede,
Yea prouidently caters for the Sparrow,
Be comfort to my age: here is the gold,
All this I giue you, let me be your seruant,
Though I looke old, yet I am strong and lustie;
For in my youth I neuer did apply
Hot, and rebellious liquors in my bloud,
Nor did not with vnbashfull forehead woe,
The meanes of weaknesse and debilitie,
Therefore my age is as a lustie winter,
Frostie, but kindely; let me goe with you,
Ile doe the seruice of a yonger man
In all your businesse and necessities.
Orl.
Oh good old man, how well in thee appeares
The constant seruice of the antique world,
When seruice sweate for dutie, not for meede:
Thou art not for the fashion of these times,
Where none will sweate, but for promotion,
And hauing that do choake their seruice vp,
Euen with the hauing, it is not so with thee:
But poore old man, thou prun'st a rotten tree,
That cannot so much as a blossome yeelde,
In lieu of all thy paines and husbandrie,
But come thy waies, weele goe along together,
And ere we haue thy youthfull wages spent,
Weele light vpon some setled low content.
Ad.
Master goe on, and I will follow thee
To the last gaspe with truth and loyaltie,
From seauentie yeeres, till now almost fourescore
Here liued I, but now liue here no more
At seauenteene yeeres, many their fortunes seeke
But at fourescore, it is too late a weeke,
Yet fortune cannot recompence me better
Then to die well, and not my Masters debter. Exeunt.
Scena Quarta.
Enter Rosaline for Ganimed, Celia for Aliena, and Clowne, alias Touchstone.
Ros.
O Iupiter, how merry are my spirits?
Clo.
I care not for my spirits, if my legges were not wearie.
Ros.
I could finde in my heart to disgrace my mans apparell, and to cry like a woman: but I must comfort the weaker vessell, as doublet and hose ought to show it selfe coragious to petty-coate; therefore courage, good Aliena.
Cel.
I pray you beare with me, I cannot goe no further.
Clo.
For my part, I had rather beare with you, then beare you: yet I should beare no crosse if I did beare you, for I thinke you haue no money in your purse.
Ros.
Well, this is the Forrest of Arden.
Clo.
I, now am I in Arden, the more foole I, when I was at home I was in a better place, but Trauellers must be content.
Enter Corin and Siluius.
Ros.
I, be so good Touchstone: Look you, who comes here, a yong man and an old in solemne talke.
Cor.
That is the way to make her scorne you still.
Sil.
Oh Corin, that thou knew'st how I do loue her.
Cor.
I partly guesse: for I haue lou'd ere now.
Sil.
No Corin, being old, thou canst not guesse,
Though in thy youth thou wast as true a louer
As euer sigh'd vpon a midnight pillow:
But if thy loue were euer like to mine,
As sure I thinke did neuer man loue so:
How many actions most ridiculous,
Hast thou beene drawne to by thy fantasie?
Cor.
Into a thousand that I haue forgotten.
Sil.
Oh thou didst then neuer loue so hartily,
If thou remembrest not the slightest folly,
That euer loue did make thee run into,
Thou hast not lou'd.
Or if thou hast not sat as I doe now,
Wearing thy hearer in thy Mistris praise,
Thou hast not lou'd.
Or if thou hast not broke from companie,
Abruptly as my passion now makes me,
Thou hast not lou'd.
O Phebe, Phebe, Phebe. Exit.
Ros.
Alas poore Shepheard searching of they would, I haue by hard aduenture found mine owne.
Clo.
And I mine: I remember when I was in loue, I broke my sword vpon a stone, and bid him take that for comming a night to Iane Smile, and I remember the kissing of her batler, and the Cowes dugs that her prettie chopt hands had milk'd; and I remember the wooing of a peascod instead of her, from whom I tooke two cods, and giuing her them againe, said with weeping teares, weare these for my sake: wee that are true Louers, runne into strange capers; but as all is mortall in nature, so is all nature in loue, mortall in folly.
Ros.
Thou speak'st wiser then thou art ware of.
Clo.
Nay, I shall nere be ware of mine owne wit, till I breake my shins against it.
Ros.
Ioue, Ioue, this Shepherds passion,
Is much vpon my fashion.
Clo.
And mine, but it growes something stale with mee.
Cel.
I pray you, one of you question yon'd man,
If he for gold will giue vs any foode,
I faint almost to death.
Clo.
Holla; you Clowne.
Ros.
Peace foole, he's not thy kinsman.
Cor.
Who cals?
Clo.
Your betters Sir.
Cor. Else are they very wretched.
