Cor. Assuredly, the thing is to be sold: Ami. Under the greenwood tree, Who loves to lie with me, And tune his merry note Unto the sweet bird's throat, Come hither, come hither, come hither; Here shall he see No enemy, But winter and rough weather. Jaq. More, more, I pr'ythee, more. Ami. It will make you melancholy, monsieur Jaques. 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'ythee more. Ami. My voice is ragged 2; 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? 2 ragged ;] Our modern editors (Mr. Malone excepted) read rugged; but ragged had anciently the same meaning. 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. 3 Jaq. And I have been all this day to avoid him. He is too dispútable 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 fool 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, 3 disputable] For disputatious. Ducdame, ducdame, ducdame; Here shall he see, Gross fools as he, An if he will come to Ami. † Ami. What's that ducdame? 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: O, 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 will here be with thee presently; and if I bring thee not something to eat, I'll give thee leave to die: but if thou diest before I come, thou art a mocker of my labour. Well said! thou look'st cheerily and I'll be with thee quickly. Yet thou liest in the bleak air: Come, I will bear thee to some shelter; and thou shalt 4 - ducdàme ;] For ducdùme, Sir Thomas Hanmer, very acutely and judiciously, reads duc ad me, that is, bring him to me. Dr. Farmer thinks it is evidently a word coined for the nonce. +"An if he will come to me." MALONE. |