AS YOU LIKE IT
Page: 19

That ever love did make thee run into,
Thou hast not lov'd:
Or if thou hast not sat as I do now,
Wearing thy hearer in thy mistress' praise,
Thou hast not lov'd:
Or if thou hast not broke from company
Abruptly, as my passion now makes me,
Thou hast not lov'd: O Phebe, Phebe, Phebe!

[Exit Silvius.]

ROSALIND.
Alas, poor shepherd! searching of thy wound,
I have by hard adventure found mine own.

TOUCHSTONE.
And I mine. I remember, when I was in love, I broke my
sword upon a stone, and bid him take that for coming a-night to
Jane Smile: and I remember the kissing of her batlet, and the
cow's dugs that her pretty chapp'd hands had milk'd: and I
remember the wooing of a peascod instead of her; from whom I took
two cods, and giving her them again, said with weeping tears,
'Wear these for my sake.' We that are true lovers run into
strange capers; but as all is mortal in nature, so is all nature
in love mortal in folly.

ROSALIND.
Thou speak'st wiser than thou art 'ware of.

TOUCHSTONE.
Nay, I shall ne'er be 'ware of mine own wit till I break my shins
against it.

ROSALIND.
Jove, Jove! this shepherd's passion
Is much upon my fashion.

TOUCHSTONE.
And mine: but it grows something stale with me.

CELIA.
I pray you, one of you question yond man
If he for gold will give us any food:
I faint almost to death.

TOUCHSTONE.
Holla, you clown!

ROSALIND.
Peace, fool; he's not thy kinsman.

CORIN.
Who calls?

TOUCHSTONE.
Your betters, sir.

CORIN.
Else are they very wretched.

ROSALIND.
Peace, I say.--
Good even to you, friend.

CORIN.
And to you, gentle sir, and to you all.

ROSALIND.
I pr'ythee, shepherd, if that love or gold
Can in this desert place buy entertainment,
Bring us where we may rest ourselves and feed:
Here's a young maid with travel much oppress'd,
And faints for succour.

CORIN.
Fair sir, I pity her,
And wish, for her sake more than for mine own,
My fortunes were more able to relieve her:
But I am shepherd to another man,
And do not shear the fleeces that I graze:
My master is of churlish disposition,
And little recks to find the way to heaven