Silvius.
Cor.
That is the way to make her scorn you still.
Sil.
O Corin, that thou knew'st how I do love her!
Cor.
I partly guess; for I have lov'd ere now.
Sil.
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?
Cor.
Into a thousand that I have forgotten.
Sil.
O, thou didst then ne'er love so heartily:
If thou remember'st not the slightest folly4 note
That ever love did make thee run into,
Thou hast not lov'd:
-- 392 --
Or if thou hast not sat as I do now,
Wearing thy hearer5 note 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.
Ros.
Alas, poor shepherd! searching of thy wound6 note,
I have by hard adventure found mine own.
Touch.
And I mine: I remember, when I was
in love, I broke my sword upon a stone, and bid
him take that for coming anight7 note to Jane Smile:
and I remember the kissing of her batlet8 note
, and the
cow's dugs that her pretty chop'd hands had milk'd:
and I remember the wooing of a peascod instead of
her; from whom I took two cods9 note
, and, giving her
-- 393 --
them again, said with weeping tears1 note
, 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 folly2 note.
Ros.
Thou speak'st wiser, than thou art 'ware of.
Touch.
Nay, I shall ne'er be 'ware of mine own
wit, till I break my shins against it.
Ros.
Jove! Jove! this shepherd's passion
Is much upon my fashion.
Touch,
And mine; but it grows something stale with me.
Cel.
I pray you, one of you question yond man,
If he for gold will give us any food;
-- 394 --
I faint almost to death.
Touch.
Holla; you, clown!
Ros.
Peace, fool; he's not thy kinsman.
Cor.
Who calls?
Touch.
Your betters, sir.
Cor.
Else are they very wretched.
Ros.
Peace, I say:—
Good even to you, friend3 note.
Cor.
And to you, gentle sir, and to you all.
Ros.
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.
Cor.
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 sheer the fleeces that I graze;
My master is of churlish disposition,
And little recks4 note
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 be5 note.
Ros.
What is he that shall buy his flock and pasture?
Cor.
That young swain that you saw here but erewhile,
-- 395 --
That little cares for buying any thing.
Ros.
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.
Cel.
And we will mend thy wages: I like this place,
And willingly could waste my time in it.
Cor.
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.
James Boswell [1821], The plays and poems of William Shakspeare, with the corrections and illustrations of various commentators: comprehending A Life of the Poet, and an enlarged history of the stage, by the late Edmond Malone. With a new glossarial index (J. Deighton and Sons, Cambridge) [word count] [S10201].
