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For his fhrunk fhanks; and his big manly voice,
Sans teeth, fans eyes, fans tafte, fans every thing.
Enter Orlando, with Adam.
Duke Sen. Welcome: set down your venerable burden,
Orla. I thank you most for him.
Adam. So had you need,
I scarce can speak to thank you for myself.
Duke Sen. Welcome, fall to: I will not trouble you,
As yet to question you about your fortunes.
Though thou the waters warp,
Duke Sen. If that you were the good fir Rowland's fon,
Enter Duke, Lords, and Oliver.
OT fee him fince? fir, fir, that cannot be :
Of my revenge, thou prefent: but look to it;
Seek him with candle; bring him dead or living
Thy lands, and all things that thou doft call thine,
Of what we think against thee.
Oli. O, that your highness knew my heart in this!
I never lov'd my brother in my life.
Duke. More villain thou. Well, push him out of doors ;
And let my officers of fuch a nature
ANG there, my verse, in witness of my love;
And in their barks my thoughts I'll character;
Shall fee thy virtue witness'd every where.
Enter Corin, and Clown.
Cor. And how like you this shepherd's life, Mr. Touchstone? Clo. Truly, fhepherd, in refpect of itself, it is a good life; but in respect that it is a fhepherd's life, it is naught: in respect that it is folitary, I like it very well; but in refpect that it is private, it is a very vile life. Now in refpect it is in the fields, it pleaseth me well; but in respect it is not in the court, it is tedious. As it is a fpare life, look you, it fits my humour well; but as there
is no more plenty in it, it goes much against my ftomach. Haft any philosophy in thee, fhepherd?
Cor. No more, but that I know the more one fickens, the worse at ease 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 pasture makes fat sheep; and that a great cause of the night, is lack of the fun: that he that hath learned no wit by nature nor art, may complain of bad breeding, and comes of a very dull kindred.
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 saw'ft good manners; if thou never faw'ft good manners, then thy manners must be wicked; and wickedness is fin, and fin is damnation : thou art in a parlous state, shepherd.
Cor. Not a whit, Touchstone: those 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 kiss your hands; that courtesy would be uncleanly, if courtiers were shepherds.
Clo. Inftance, briefly; come, instance.
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 grease of mutton as wholsome as the sweat of a man? shallow, fhallow; a better inftance, I say: come.
Cor. Befides, our hands are hard.
Clo. Your lips will feel them the fooner. Shallow again: a founder inftance; come.
Cor. And they are often tarr'd over with the furgery of our
fheep; and would you have us kiss tar? the courtier's hands are
Clo. Moft fhallow man! thou worms-meat, in refpect of a
Cor. You have too courtly a wit for me; I'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 men's good, content with my harm; and the greatest of my pride is, to fee my ewes graze, 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 a bell-weather, and to betray a fhe-lamb of a twelvemonth old to a crooked-pated old cuckoldly ram, out of all reasonable match. If thou be’st not damn'd for this, the devil himself will have no fhepherds; I cannot fee else how thou should'ft 'scape.
Cor. Here comes young Mr. Ganimed, my new mistress's brother.
Enter Rofalind with a paper.
Rof. From the east to the western Inde,
Her worth, being mounted on the wind,
Are but black to Rofalind.