A better instance, I say; come.
CORIN. Besides, our hands are hard.
TOUCHSTONE. Your lips will feel them the sooner. Shallow again.
A
more sounder instance; come.
CORIN. 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
perfum'd with civet.
TOUCHSTONE. Most shallow man! thou worm's 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.
CORIN. You have too courtly a wit for me; I'll rest.
TOUCHSTONE. Wilt thou rest damn'd? God help thee, shallow man!
God
make incision in thee! thou art raw.
CORIN. 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.
TOUCHSTONE.
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