SCENE II. The forest

Enter ORLANDO, with a paper

ORLANDO
Hang there, my verse, in witness of my love:
And thou, thrice-crowned queen of night, survey
With thy chaste eye, from thy pale sphere above,
Thy huntress' name that my full life doth sway.
O Rosalind! these trees shall be my books
And in their barks my thoughts I'll character;
That every eye which in this forest looks
Shall see thy virtue witness'd every where.
Run, run, Orlando; carve on every tree
The fair, the chaste and unexpressive she.

Exit

Enter CORIN and TOUCHSTONE

CORIN
And how like you this shepherd's life, Master Touchstone?

TOUCHSTONE
Truly, shepherd, in respect of itself, it is a good
Life, but in respect that it is a shepherd's life
It is naught. In respect that it is solitary, I
Like it very well; but in respect that it is
Private, it is a very vile life. Now, in respect it
Is in the fields, it pleaseth me well; but in
Respect it is not in the court, it is tedious. As
Is it a spare life, look you, it fits my humour well;
But as there is no more plenty in it, it goes much
Against my stomach. Hast any philosophy in thee, shepherd?