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Thy tooth is not so keen,
Although thy breath be rude.
Then, heigh-ho, the holly!
As benefits forgot :
As friend remember'd not.
Seek him with candle ; bring him dead or living
Oli. O that your highness knew my heart in this !
Duke F. More villain thou. Well, push him out of doors ; And let my officers of such a nature Make an extent upon his house and lands : Do this expediently and turn him going.
SCENE II. The forest.
Enter ORLANDO, with a paper.
And thou, thrice-crowned queen of night, survey
Thy huntress' name that my full life doth sway.
And in their barks my thoughts I'll character;
Shall see thy virtue witness'd every where,
Enter Corin and TOUCHSTONE. Cor. And how like you this shepherd's life, Master Touchstone.
Touch. Truly, shepherd, in respect of itself, it is a good life ; but in respect that it is a shepherd's life, it is naught. In respect that it is solitary, I like it very well; but in re. spect that it is private, it is a very vile life. Now, in respect
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 spare life, look you, it fits my humour well; but as there is no more plenty in it, it goes much against my stomach. Hast any philosophy in thee, shepherd ?
21 7 Cor. No more but that I know the more one sickens 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 sun; that he that hath learned no wit by nature nor art may complain of good breeding or comes of a very dull kindred.
Touch. Such a one is a natural philosopher. Wast ever in court, shepherd ?
Cor. No, truly.
Touch. Truly, thou art damned, like an ill-roasted egg all on one side.
Cor. For not being at court? Your reason.
Touch. Why, if thou never wast at court, thou never sawest good manners; if thou never sawest good manners, then thy manners must be wicked; and wickedness is sin, and sin is damnation. Thou art in a parlous state, shepherd. 40
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 salute not at the court, but you kiss your hands : that courtesy would be uncleanly, if courtiers were shepherds.
Touch. Instance, briefly ; come, instance.
Cor. Why, we are still handling our ewes, and their fells, you know, are greasy.
Touch. Why, do not your courtier's hands sweat ? and is not the grease of a mutton as wholesome as the sweat of a man? Shallow, shallow. A better instance, I say ; come. Cor. Besides, our hands are hard.
Touch. Your lips will feel then the sooner. Shallow again. A more sounder instance, come.
Cor. And they are often tarred over with the surgery of our sheep; and would you have us kiss tar? The courtier's hands are perfumed with civet.
Touch. Most shallow man! thou worms-meat, in respect of a good piece of flesh indeed! Learn of the wise, and perpend : civet is of a baser birth than tar. Mend the instance, shepherd.
Cor. You have too courtly a wit for me : I'll rest. 61
Touch. Wilt thou rest damned ? God help thee, shallow man! God make incision 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 see my ewes graze and my lambs suck. Here comes young Master Ganymede, my new mistress's brother.
Enter ROSALIND, with a paper, reading.
From the east to western Ind,
But the fair of Rosalind. Touch. I'll rhyme you so eight years together, dinners and suppers and sleeping-hours excepted : it is the right butterwomen's rank to market.
Ros. Out, fool !
If a hart do lack a hind,
Then to cart with Rosalind.
90 Must find love's prick and Rosalind. This is the very false gallop of verses : why do you infect yourself with them ?
Ros. Peace, you dull fool! I found them on a tree.
Ros. I'll graff it with you, and then I shall graff it with a medlar : then it will be the earliest fruit i' the country ; for you'll be rotten ere you be half ripe, and that's the right virtue of the medlar.
Touch. You have said ; but whether wisely or no, let the forest judge.
101 Enter CELIA, with a writing. Ros. Peace ! Here comes my sister, reading : stand aside. Cel. [Reads]
Why should this a desert be?
For it is unpeopled ? No:
That shall civil sayings show :
Runs his erring pilgrimage,
'Twixt the souls of friend and friend :
Or at every sentence end,
Teaching all that read to know
Heaven would in little show.