Scena Quarta.
O Iupiter, how merry are my spirits?
I care not for my spirits, if my legges were not wearie.
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.
I pray you beare with me, I cannot goe no fur∣ther.
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.
Well, this is the Forrest of Arden.
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.
I, be so good Touchstone: Look you, who comes here, a yong man and an old in solemne talke.
That is the way to make her scorne you still.
Oh Corin, that thou knew'st how I do loue her.
I partly guesse: for I haue lou'd ere now.
Into a thousand that I haue forgotten.
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 kis∣sing 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 Lo∣uers, runne into strange capers; but as all is mortall in nature, so is all nature in loue, mortall in folly.
Thou speak'st wiser then thou art ware of.
And mine, but it growes something stale with mee.
Holla; you Clowne.
Peace foole, he's not thy kinsman.
Who cals?
Your betters Sir.
Else are they very wretched.