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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 damn'd; 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 saw'st good manners; if thou never saw'st good manners, then thy manners must be wicked; and wickedness is sin, and sin is damnation : Thou art in a parlous state, shepherd.
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 them the sooner. Shailow, again: A more sounder instance, come.
Cor. And they are often tarr'd 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; the very uncleanly flux of a cat. Mend the instance, shepherd.
Cor. You have too courtly a wit for me ; I'll rest.
Touch. Wilt thou rest damn'd? 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.
Touch. That is another simple sin in you; to bring the ewes and the rams together, and to offer to get your living by the copulation of cattle: to be bawd to a bell-wether; and to betray a she-lamb of a twelvemonth, to a crooked-pated, old, cuckoldly ram, out of all reasonable match. If thou be'st not damn'd for this, the devil himself will have no shepherds; not see else how thou shouldst ’scape.
Cor. Here comes young master Ganymede, my new mistress's brother.
Enter RosALIND, reading a paper.
No jewel is like Rosalind.
Touch. I'll rhime you so, eight years together ; dinners, and suppers, and sleeping hours excepted: It is the right butter-woman's rank to market.
Ros. Out, fool !
If a hart do lack a hind,
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.
Touch. Truly, the tree yields bad fruit.
Ros. I'll graff it with you, and then I shall graff it with a medlar : then it will be the earliest fruit in the country: for you'll be rotten e'er 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.
Enter Celia, reading a paper.
For it is unpeopled? No;
That shall civil sayings show.
Runs his erring pilgrimage ;
Buckles in his sum of age.
'Twixt the souls of friend and friend :
Or at every sentence' end,
Teaching all, that read, to know
Heaven would in little show.
That one body should be fill'd
Nature presently distilld
Sad Lucretia's modesty.
By heavenly synod was devis’d;
To have the touches dearest priz'd.
Ros. O most gentle Jupiter !—what tedious homily of love have you wearied your parishioners withal, and never cry’d, Have patience, good people !
Cel. How now ! back friends ;-Shepherd, go off a little :-Go with him, sirrah.
Touch. Come, shepherd, let's make an honourable retreat; though not with bag and baggage, yet with scrip and scrippage. [Ereunt Corin and Touchstone.
Cel. Didst thou hear these verses ?
Ros. O, yes, I heard them all, and more too; for some of them had in them more feet than the verses would bear.
Cel. That's no matter; the feet might bear the verses.
Ros. Ay, but the feet were lame, and could not bear themselves without the verse, and therefore stood lamely in the verse.
Cel. But didst thou hear, without wondering how thy name should be hang'd and carv'd upon these trees?
Ros. I was seven of the nine days out of the wonder, before you came; for look here what I found on a palm-tree: I was never so be-rhymed since Pythago