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Shakespeare, William, 1564-1616

"As You Like It"

Into a thousand that I have forgotten.
SILVIUS. O, thou didst then never love so heartily!
If thou rememb'rest 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 batler, and the
cow's dugs that her pretty chopt hands had milk'd; and I
remember
the wooing of peascod instead of her; from whom I took two
cods,
and giving her them again, said with weeping tears 'Wear
these
for my sake.


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