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 folly. 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 If he for gold will give us any food;

I faint almost to death.

Touch. Holla; you, clown!

[man,

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, friend.

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: [press'd, Here's a young maid with travel much opAnd faints for succour.

Cor. Fair Sir, I pity her,

[feed,

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 recks* to find the way to heaven
By doing deeds of hospitality:
Besides, his cote, his flocks, and bounds of
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 be.
Ros. What is he that shall buy his flock and
pasture?

Cor. That young swain that you saw here but
erewhile,

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.

SCENE V-The same.

[Exeunt.

Jaq. I thank it. More, I pr'ythee, more. I can suck melancholy out of a song, as a weazel sucks eggs: More, I pr'ythec, more.

Ami. My voice is ragged ;* I know I cannot please you.

Jaq. I do not desire you to please me, I do desire you to sing: Come, more; another stanza; call you them stanzas?

Ami. What you will, monsieur Jaques. Jaq. Nay, I care not for their names; they owe me nothing: Will you sing?

Ami. More at your request, than to please myself.

Jaq. Well then, if ever I thank any man, I'll thank you: but that they call compliment, is like the encounter of two dog-apes: and when a man thanks me heartily, methinks, I have given him a penny, and he renders me the beggarly thanks. Come, sing; and you that will not, hold your tongues.

Ami. Well, I'll end the song.-Sirs, cover the while; the duke will drink under this tree: he hath been all this day to look you.

Jaq. And I have been all this day to avoid him. He is too dispútablet for my company: I think of as many matters as he; but I give heaven thanks, and make no boast of them. Come, warble, come.

SONG.

Who doth ambition shun,[All together here.
And loves to live i' the sun,
Seeking the food he eats,

And pleas'd with what he gets,

Come hither, come hither, come hither;
Here shall he see

No enemy,

But winter and rough weather.

Jaq. I'll give you a verse to this note, that I
made yesterday in despite of my invention.
Ami. And I'll sing it.
Jaq. Thus it goes:

If it do come to pass,
That any man turn ass,
Leaving his wealth and ease,
A stubborn will to please,
Ducdame, ducdàme, ducdàme;
Here will he see,

Gross fools as he,

An if he will come to Ami.

Ami. What's that ducdàme?

Jaq. 'Tis a Greek invocation, to call fools into a circle. I'll go sleep, if I can; if I cannot, I'll rail against all the first-born of Egypt. Ami. And I'll go seek the duke; his banquet is prepar'd. [Exeunt severally.

SCENE VI.-The same.

Enter ORLANDO and ADAM.

Adam. Dear master, I can go no further: 0, I die for food! Here lie I down, and measure out my grave. Farewell, kind master.

Orl. Why, how now, Adam! no greater heart in thee? Live a little; comfort a little; cheer thyself a little: If this uncouth forest yield any thing savage, I will either be food for it, or bring it for food to thee. Thy conceit is nearer death than thy powers. For my sake, be comfortable; hold death awhile at the arm's end: I'll here be with thee presently; and if I bring thee not something to eat, I'll give thee

*Ragged and ruggel had formerly the same meaning Disputatious.

A table set out.-Enter DUKE senior, AMIENS, LORDS, and others.

Duke S. I think he be transform'd into a beast; For I can no where find him like a man.

1 Lord. My lord, he is but even now gone hence;

Here was he merry, hearing of a song. Duke S. If he, compact of jars,* grow musical,

We shall have shortly discord in the spheres :Gro, seek him; tell him, I would speak with him. Enter JAQUES.

1 Lord. He saves my labour by his own approach.

Duke S. Why, how now, monsieur! what a life is this, [pany? That your poor friends must woo your comWhat! you look merrily.

Jaq. A fool, a fool!I met a fool i'the
A motley fool;-a miserable world! [forest,
As I do live by food, I met a fool;
Who laid him down and bask'd him in the sun,
And rail'd on lady Fortune in good terms,
In good set terms, and yet a motley fool.
Good-morrow fool, quoth I: No, Sir, quoth he,
Call me not fool, till heaven hath sent me fortune:
And then he drew a dial from his poke;
And looking on it with lack-lustre eye,
Says, very wisely, It is ten o'clock:
Thus may we see, quoth he, how the world wags:
'Tis but an hour ago, since it was nine;
And after an hour more, 'twill be eleven;
And so, from hour to hour, we ripe and ripe,
And then, from hour to hour, we rot, and rot,
And thereby hangs a tale. When I did hear
The motley fool thus moral on the time,
My lungs began to crow like chanticleer,
That fools should be so deep-contemplative;
And I did laugh, sans intermission,
An hour by his dial.-O noble fool!

A worthy fool! Motley's the only wear,t
Duke S. What fool is this?

The why is plain as way to parish church:
He, that a fool doth very wisely hit,
Doth very foolishly, although he smart,
Not to seem senseless of the bob: if not,
The wise man's folly is anatomiz'd
Even by the squand'ring glances of the fool.
Invest me in my motley; give me leave
To speak my mind, and I will through and
through

Cleanse the foul body of the infected world,
If they will patiently receive my medicine.
Duke S. Fie on thee! I can tell what thou

wouldst do.

Jaq. What, for a counter, would I do, but good?

Duke S. Most mischievous foul sin, in chiding sin:

For thou thyself hast been a libertine,
As sensual as the brutish sting itself;
And all the embossed sores, and headed evils,
That thou with license of free foot hast caught,
Wouldst thou disgorge into the general world.

Jaq. Why, who cries out on pride,
Doth it not flow as hugely as the sea,
That can therein tax any private party?
Till that the very very means do ebb?
What woman in the city do I name,
When that I say, The city-woman bears
The cost of princes on unworthy shoulders?
Who can come in, and say, that I mean her,
When such a one as she, such is her neigh-
Or what is he of basest function, [bour?
That says, his bravery* is not on my cost,
(Thinking that I mean him,) but therein suits
His folly to the mettle of my speech?
There then; How, what then? Let me see

wherein

My tongue hath wrong'd him: if it do him right,
Then he hath wrong'd himself; if he be free,
Why then, my taxing like a wild goose flies,
Unclaim'd of any man.-But who comes here?

Enter ORLANDO, with his sword drawn.
Orl. Forbear, and eat no more.
Jaq. Why, I have eat none yet.

Ori. Nor shalt not, till necessity be serv'd.
Jaq. Of what kind should this cock come of?
Duke S. Art thou thus bolden'd, man, by thy

distress;

courtier ;

And says, if ladies be but young, and fair,
They have the gift to know it: and in his brain,
Which is as dry as the remainder biscuit
After a voyage, he hath strange places
cramm'd

With observation, the which he vents
In mangled forms:-O, that I were a fool!
I am ambitious for a motley coat.

Duke S. Thou shalt have one.
Jaq. It is my only suit;

Provided that you weed your better judgements
Of all opinion that grows rank in them,
That I am wise. I must have liberty
Withal, as large a charter as the wind,
To blow on whom I please; for so fools have:
And they that are most galled with my folly,
They most must laugh: And, why, Sir, must
they so?

And know some nurture: ‡ But forbear, I say;
He dies, that touches any of this fruit,
Till I and my affairs are answered.

Jaq. An you will not be answered with rea-
I must die.
[son,
Duke S. What would you have? Your gen-

tleness shall force,

More than your force move us to gentleness. Orl. I almost die for food, and let me have it. Duke S. Sit down and feed, and welcome to our table.

Orl. Speak you so gently? Pardon me, I pray you:

I thought, that all things had been savage here;
And therefore put I on the countenance
Of stern commandment: But whate'er you are.
That in this desert inaccessible,
Under the shade of melancholy boughs,
Lose and neglect the creeping hours of time
If ever you have look'd on better days;

`AMIENS sings.

If ever been where bells have knoll'd to church,
If ever sat at any good man's feast;

If ever from your eye-lids wip'd a tear,
And know what 'tis to pity, and be pitied;
Let gentleness my strong enforcement be:
In the which hope, I blush, and hide my sword.
Duke S. True is it that we have seen better
days;

And have with holy bell been knoll'd to church;
And sat at good men's feasts; and wip'd our

eyes

Of drops that sacred pity hath engender'd:
And therefore sit you down in gentleness,
And take upon command what help we have,
That to your wanting may be ministered.

Orl. Then, but forbear your food a little while,

Whiles, like a doe, I go to find my fawn,
And give it food. There is an old poor man,
Who after me hath many a weary step
Limp'd in pure love; till he be first suffic'd,-
Oppress'd with two great evils, age and hun-

I will not touch a bit.

[ger,

your

Duke S. Go find him out, And we will nothing waste till you return. Orl. I thank ye; and be bless'd for good comfort! [Exit. Duke S. Thou seest, we are not all alone unThis wide and universal theatre [happy: Presents more woful pageants than the scene Wherein we play in.

Jaq. All the world's a stage,

And all the men and women merely players:
They have their exits, and their entrances;
And one man in his time plays many parts,'
His acts being seven ages. At first, the infant,
Mewling and puking in the nurse's arms;
And then, the whining school-boy, with his

satchel,

And shining morning face, creeping like snail
Unwillingly to school: And then, the lover;
Sighing like furnace, with a woful ballad
Made to his mistress' eye-brow: Then, a sol-
dier;
[pard,
Full of strange oaths, and bearded like the
Jealous in honour, sudden and quick in quar-
Seeking the bubble reputation
[rel,
Even in the cannon's mouth: And then, the
justice;

In fair round belly, with good capon lin❜d,
With eyes severe, and beard of formal cut,
Full of wise saws, and modernt instances,
And so he plays his part: The sixth age shifts
Into the lean and slipper'd pantaloon;
With spectacles on nose, and pouch on side;
His youthful hose, well sav'd, a world too wide
For his shrunk shank; and his big manly voice,
Turning again toward childish treble, pipes
And whistles in his sound: Last scene of all,
That ends this strange eventful history,
Is second childishness, and mere oblivion;
Sans teeth, sans eyes, sans taste, sans every
thing.

Re-enter ORLANDO, with ADAM.
Duke S. Welcome: Set down your venerable
And let him feed.

Orl. I thank you most for him.
Adam. So had you need:

[burden,

I scarce can speak to thank you for myself. Duke S. Welcome, fall to: I will not trouble you

As yet to question you about your fortunes:Give us some music; and, good cousin, sing.

SONG.

I.

Blow, blow, thou winter wind
Thou art not so unkind*

As man's ingratitude;
Thy tooth is not so keen,
Because thou art not seen,
Although thy breath be rude.
Heigh, ho! sing, heigh, ho! unto the green holly:
Most friendship is feigning-most loving mere folly;
Then heigh, ho, the holly!
This life is most jolly.

II.

Freeze, freeze, thou bitter sky,
That dost not bite so nigh
As benefits forgot:
Though thou the waters warp,
Thy sting is not so sharp
Heigh, ho! sing heigh, ho! &c.
As friend remember'd† not.

Duke S. If that you were the good Sir Row-
land's son,-

As you have whisper'd faithfully, you were;
And as mine eye doth his effigies witness
Most truly limn'd, and living in your face,-
Be truly welcome hither: I am the duke,
That lov'd your father: The residue of your
fortune,

Go to my cave and tell me.-Good old man,
Thou art right welcome as thy master is:
Support him by the arm.-Give me your hand,
And let me all your fortunes understand.

ACT III.

[Exeunt.

Duke F. Not see him since? Sir, Sir, that cannot be:

But were I not the better part made mercy,
I should not seek an absent argument
Of my revenge, thou present: But look to it;
Find out thy brother, wheresoe'er he is;
Seek him with candle; bring him dead or living,
Within this twelvemonth, or turn thou no more
To seek a living in our territory; [thine,
Thy lands, and all things that thou dost call
Worth seizure, do we seize into our hands;
Till thou canst quit thee by thy brother's mouth
Of what we think against thee.

Oli. O, that your highness knew my heart in I never lov'd my brother in my life. [this! Duke F. More villain thou.-Well, push him out of doors;

And let my officers of such a nature
Make an extent‡ upon his house and lands:
Do this expediently, and turn him going.
[Exeunt.

SCENE II.-The Forest.
Enter ORLANDO, with a paper.

Orl. Hang there, my verse, in witness of my love [survey And, thou, thrice-crowned queen of night, With thy chaste eye, from thy pale sphere above, [sway.

Thy huntress' name, that my whole life doth O Rosalind! these trees shall be my books, And in these barks my thoughts I'll character;

Some, of violated vows

'Twixt the souls of friend and friend: But upon the fairest boughs,

Or at every sentence' end,
Will I Rosalinda write;

Teaching all that read, to know
The quintessence of every sprite
Heaven would in little show.
Therefore heaven nature charg'd
That one body should be fill'd
With all graces wide enlarg'd:
Nature presently distill'd
Helen's cheek, but not her heart;
Cleopatra's majesty ;
Atalanta's better part;

Sad Lucretia's modesty.
Thus Rosalind, of many parts,

By heavenly synod was devis'd;

Of many faces, eyes, and hearts,

To have the touches* dearest pris'd.

Cel. So you may put a man in your belly. Ros. Is he of God's making? What manner of man? Is his head worth a hat, or his chin worth a beard?

Cel. Nay, he hath but a little beard.

Ros. Why, God will send more, if the man will be thankful: let me stay the growth of his beard, if thou delay me not the knowledge of his chin.

Cel. It is young Orlando; that tripp'd up the wrestler's heels, and your heart, both in an instant.

Ros. Nay, but the devil take mocking; speak sad brow, and true maid.*

Cel. I'faith, coz, 'tis he.

Ros. Orlando?

Cel. Orlando.

Ros. Alas the day! what shall I do with my doublet and hose?-What did he, when thou saw'st him? What said he? How look'd he?

Cel. You must borrow me Garagantua's mouth first: 'tis a word too great for any mouth

particulars, is more than to answer in a cate

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 hanged and carved 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 berhymed since Pythagoras' time, that I was an Irish rat, which I can hardly remember.

Cel. Trow you, who hath done this?
Ros. Is it a man?

Cel. And a chain, that you once wore, about his neck: Change you colour?

Ros. I pr'ythee, who?

Cel. O lord, lord! it is a hard matter for friends to meet; but mountains may be removed with earthquakes, and so encounter.

Ros. Nay, but who is it?

Cel. Is it possible?

Ros. Nay, I pray thee now, with most petitionary vehemence, tell me who it is.

Cel. O wonderful, wonderful, and most wonderful wonderful, and yet again wonderful, and after that out of all whooping!†

Ros. Good my complexion! dost thou think, though I am caparison'd like a man, I have a doublet and hose in my disposition? One inch of delay more is a South-sea off discovery. I pr'ythee, tell me, who is it? quickly, and speak apace: I would thou couldst stammer, that thou might'st pour this concealed man out of thy mouth, as wine comes out of a narrowmouth'd bottle; either too much at once, or none at all. I pr'ythée take the cork out of thy mouth, that I may drink thy tidings. Out of all measure.

* Features.

Ros. But doth he know that I am in this forest, and in man's apparel? Looks he as freshly as he did the day he wrestled?

Cel. It is as easy to count atomies, as to resolve the propositions of a lover:-but take a taste of my finding him, and relish it with a good observance. I found him under a tree, like a dropp'd acorn.

Ros. It may well be called Jove's tree, when it drops forth such fruit.

Cel. Give me audience, good madam.
Ros. Proceed.

Cel. There lay he, stretched along, like a wounded knight.

Ros. Though it be pity to see such a sight, it well becomes the ground.

Cel. Cry, holla! to thy tongue, I pr'ythee; it curvets very unseasonably. He was furnished like a hunter.

Ros. O ominous! he comes to kill my heart. Cel. I would sing my song without a burden; thou bring'st me out of tune.

Ros. Do you not know I am a woman? when I think, I must speak. Sweet, say on.

Enter ORLANDO and JAQUES.

Cel. You bring me out :-Soft! comes he not here?

Ros. 'Tis he; slink by, and note him. [CELIA and ROSALIND retire. Jaq. I thank you for your company; but, good faith, I had as lief have been myself alone.

Orl. And so had I; but yet, for fashion sake, I thank you too for your society.

Jaq. God be with you; let's meet as little as