READ STUDY GUIDE: Act II, scenes i–iv |
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Act II, Scene iv:
The Forest of Arden.
The Forest of Arden.
| [Enter ROSALIND in boy's clothes, CELIA dressed like ashepherdess, and TOUCHSTONE.] |
| ROSALIND: |
| O Jupiter! how weary are my spirits! |
| TOUCHSTONE: |
| I care not for my spirits, if my legs were not weary. |
| ROSALIND: |
| I could find in my heart to disgrace my man's apparel, |
| and to cry like a woman; but I must comfort the weaker vessel, as |
| doublet and hose ought to show itself courageous to petticoat; |
| therefore, courage, good Aliena. |
| CELIA: |
| I pray you bear with me; I can go no further. |
| TOUCHSTONE: |
| For my part, I had rather bear with you than bear you: |
| yet I should bear no cross if I did bear you; for I think you |
| have no money in your purse. |
| ROSALIND: |
| Well, this is the forest of Arden. |
| TOUCHSTONE: |
| Ay, now am I in Arden: the more fool I; when I was at |
| home I was in a better place; but travellers must be content. |
| ROSALIND: |
| Ay, be so, good Touchstone.—Look you, who comes here?, a |
| young man and an old in solemn talk. |
| [Enter CORIN and SILVIUS.] |
| CORIN: |
| That is the way to make her scorn you still. |
| SILVIUS: |
| O Corin, that thou knew'st how I do love her! |
| CORIN: |
| I partly guess; for I have lov'd ere now. |
| SILVIUS: |
| No, Corin, being old, thou canst not guess; |
| Though in thy youth thou wast as true a lover |
| As ever sigh'd upon a midnight pillow: |
| But if thy love were ever like to mine,— |
| As sure I think did never man love so,— |
| How many actions most ridiculous |
| Hast thou been drawn to by thy fantasy? |
| CORIN: |
| Into a thousand that I have forgotten. |
| SILVIUS: |
| O, thou didst then never love so heartily: |
| If thou remember'st not the slightest folly |
| 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 |
| By doing deeds of hospitality: |
| Besides, his cote, his flocks, and bounds of feed, |
| Are now on sale; and at our sheepcote now, |
| By reason of his absence, there is nothing |
| That you will feed on; but what is, come see, |
| And in my voice most welcome shall you be. |
| ROSALIND: |
| What is he that shall buy his flock and pasture? |
| CORIN: |
| That young swain that you saw here but erewhile, |
| That little cares for buying anything. |
| ROSALIND: |
| I pray thee, if it stand with honesty, |
| Buy thou the cottage, pasture, and the flock, |
| And thou shalt have to pay for it of us. |
| CELIA: |
| And we will mend thy wages. I like this place, |
| And willingly could waste my time in it. |
| CORIN: |
| Assuredly the thing is to be sold: |
| Go with me: if you like, upon report, |
| The soil, the profit, and this kind of life, |
| I will your very faithful feeder be, |
| And buy it with your gold right suddenly. |
| [Exeunt.] |
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