Enter Orlando and Adam.

Orla. Who's there?
[tle master, 5
Adam, What! my young master!-Oh, my gen-
Oh, my sweet master, O you memory!

I'll do the service of a younger man
In all your business and necessities.

Eappears

Orla. Oh, good old man! how well in thee
The constant service of the antique world,
When service sweat for duty, not for meed!
Thou art not for the fashion of these times,
Where none will sweat but for promotion;
And having that, do choak their service up
Even with the having*: it is not so with thee.
But, poor old man, thou prùnʼst a rotten tipe,
That cannot so much as a blo. som yield,
In lieu of all thy pains and husbandry:
But come thy ways, we'll go along together;
And ere we have thy youthful wages spent,
15 We'll light upon some settled low content.

Of old'sir Rowland! why, what makes you here?
Why are you virtuous? Why do people love you?
And wherefore are you gentle, strong, and valiant: 10
Why would you be so fond to overcome
The bony priser of the humourous duke?
Your praise is come too swiftly home before you.
Know you not, master, to some kind of men,
Their graces serve them but as enemies?
No more do yours; your virtues, gentle master,
Are sanctified and holy traitors to you.
Oh, what a world is this, when what is comely
Envenoms him that bears it!

Orla. Why, what's the matter?
Adam. O unhappy youth,

Come not within these doors; within this roof
The enemy of all your graces lives:
Your brother-(no, no brother; yet the son-
Yet not the son;-I will not call him son-
Of him I was about to call his father)
Hath heard your praises; and this night he means
To burn the lodgings where you used to lie,
And you within it: if he fail of that,

He will have other means to cut you off:

Adam. No matter whither, so you come not here. Orla, What, wouldst thou have me go and beg my food?

Adam. Master, go on; and I will follow thee,
To the last gasp, with truth and loyalty.-
From seventeen years till now almost fourscore
Here lived I, but now live here no more.
20At seventeen years many their fortunes seek;
But at fourscore, it is too late a week:
Yet fortune cannot recompense me better,
Than to die well, and not my master's debtor. [Exe
S CE NE IV.

25

30

35

The Forest of Arden.

Enter Rosalind in boy's cloaths for Ganimed; Celia drest like a shepherdess for Aiena; and Touchstone the Clown.

Ros. O Jupiter! how weary are my spirits! Clo. I care not for my spirits, it my legs were not weary.

Ros. I could find in my heart to disgrace my man's apparel, and cry like a woman: but I must comfort the weaker vessel, as doublet and hose ought to shew itself courageous to petticoat; therefore, courage, good Aliena.

Cel. I pray you, bear with me; I can go no

40 further.

Or, with a base and boisterous sword, enforce
A thievish living on the common road?
This I must do, or know not what to do
Yet this I will not do, do how I can;
I rather will subject me to the malice
Of a diverted blood, and bloody brother.
Adam. But do not so: I have five hundred crowns, 45
The thrifty hire I sav'd under your father,
Which I did store, to be my foster-nurse,
When service should in my old limbs lie fame,
And unregarded age in corners thrown;
Take that: and he that doth the ravens feed,
Yea, providently caters for the sparrow,
Be comfort to my age! Here is the gold;
All this I give you: let me be your servant :
Though I look old, yet I am strong and lusty :
For in my youth I never did apply
Hot and rebellious liquors in my blood;
Nor did not with unbashful forehead woo
The means of weakness and debility;
Therefore my age is as a lusty winter,
Frosty, but kindly: let me go with you;

'Memory is here put for memorial. turned out of the course of nature. stamped with a cross.

50

155

Clo. For my part, I had rather bear with you, than bear you: yet I should bear no cross `, it I lid bear you; for I think you have no money in your purse.

Ros. Well, this is the forest of Arden.

Clo. Ay, now am I in Arden; the more fool I; when I was at home, I was in a better place: but travellers mu the content.

Ros. Ay, be so, good Touchstone:-Look you, who comes here; a young man, and an old, in solemn talk.

Enter Corin and Silvius.

Cor. That is the way to make her scorn you still.
Sil. O Corin, that thou knewest how I do love her!
Cor. I partly guess; for I have lov'd ere now.
Sil. No, Corm, being old, thou canst not guess;
Though in thy youth thou wast as true a lover,
As ever sigh'd upon a midnight pillow:

But if thy love were ever like to mine,
60 (As sure I think did never man love so)

2 Place here means a mansion or residence. That is, blood Having here means possession. A cross was a piece of money

Flow

How many actions most ridiculous
Hast thou been drawn to by thy fantasy?

Cor. Into a thousand that I have forgotten.
Sil. O, thou didst then ne'er love so heartily:
If thou remember'st not the slightest tolly
That ever love did make thee run into,
Thou hast not lov'd:

Or if thou hast not sat as I do now,
Wearying thy hearer in thy mistress' praise,
Thou hast not lov'd:

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, 10 Buy thou the cottage, pasture, and the flock, And thou shalt have to pay for it of us.

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.
Ros. Alas, poor shepherd! searching of thy wound, 15
I have by hard adventure found mine own.

Clo. And I mine: I remember, when I was in
love, I broke my sword upon a stone, and bid him
take that for coming o'nights to Jane Smile: and
I remember the kissing of her battlet', and the 20
cow's dugs that her pretty chopp'd hands had
milk'd: and I remember the wooing of a peascod
instead of her; and from whom I took two cods',
and, giving her them again, said with weeping
tears, Wear these for my sake. We, that are true 25
lovers, run into strange capers; but as all is mortal
in nature, so is all nature in love mortal3 in folly.

Ros. Thou speak'st wiser, than thou art 'ware of. Clo. Nay, I shall ne'er be aware of mine own wit, till I break my shins against it. |301

Ros. Jove! Jove! this shepherd's passion is much upon my fashion.

Clo. And mine; but it grows something stale with me.

Cel. I pray you, one of you question yon man, 35 If he for gold will give us any food;

I faint almost to death.

Clo. Holla; you, clown!

Ros. Peace, fool; he's not thy kinsman,
Cor. Who calls?

Clo. Your betters, sir.

Cor. Else they are 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:
Here's a young maid with travel much oppress'd,
And faints for succour.

Cor. Fair sir, I pity her,

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 feed
Are now on sale; and at our sheep-cote now,

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 soid:
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.[Exeunt.
SCENE V.

Enter Amiens, Jaques, and others.
SONG.

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 weasel sucks eggs: More, Ipr'ythee, in ore.

Ami. My voice is rugged; I know I cannot please

'An instrument with which washer-women beat their coarse clothes. still in use in Staffordshire for peas as they are brought to market.

2 Peascods is a term 'That is, abundant 'n folly.

In some counties, mortal, from mort, a great quantity, is still used as a particle of ampliucation as mortal tall, mortal little.

thanks,

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, comte 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 made yesterday in despight 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,

Duc ad me, duc ad me, duc ad me1;
Here shall he see

Gross fools as he,

An if he will come, to me. Ami. What's that duc ad me?

I

Enter Jaques.

1 Lord. He saves my labour by his own approach. Duke Sen. Why, how now, monsieur! what a life is this,

5 That your poor friends must woo your company? What! you look merrily.

Jaq. A fool, a fool!

-I met a fool i' the forest,

A motley fool,-
-a miserable varlet!-
As I do live by food, I met a fool;

10 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. [he, "Good-morrow, fool," quoth I: "No, sir," quoth "Call me not fool,till heaven hath sent me fortune:" 15 And then he drew a dial from his poke; And looking on it with lack-lustre eye, Says, very wisely, "It is ten a-clock:

66

"Thus may we see," quoth he, "how the world ""Tis but an hour ago, since it was nine; [wags: 20 And after one 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 wortby fool! Motley's the only wear. Duke Sen. What fool is this? [courtier; Jaq. O worthy fool!-One that hath been a 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 bisket After a voyage,-he hath strange places cramm'd With observation, the which he vents

Jaq. 'Tis a Greek invocation, to call fools into 25 a circle. I'll go sleep if I can; if I cannot, I'll rail against all the first-born of Egypt2. Ami. And I'll go seek the duke; his banquet is prepar'd. [Exeunt severally. SCENE VI.

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.

30

Orla. Why, how now, Adam! no greater heart 35
in thee? Live a little; comfort a little; cheer thy-
self 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 40
a while at the arm's end: I will be here 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 cheerly: and I'll be with 45
thee quickly. Yet thou liest in the bleak air:
Come, I will bear thee to some shelter; and thou
shalt not die for lack of a dinner, if there live any
thing in this desert. Cheerly,good Adam! [Exeunt.
SCENE VII.

Another part of the Forest.
Enter Duke Senior and Lords. [A table set out.
Duke Sen. I think he is transforin'd into a beast;
For I can no where find him like a man.

In mangled forms:-O, that I were a fool!
am ambitious for a motley coat.

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

Provided, that you weed your better judgments
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, [so?
They most must laugh: And why, sir, must they
The why is plain as way to parish-church:

He, that a fool doth very wisely hit,
50 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 squandring glances of the fool.
Invest me in my motley; give me leave
55 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. [do,
Duke Sen. Fie on thee! I can tell what thou would'st
DukeSen. Most mischievous foul sin, in chiding sin:
Jaq. What, for a counter, would I do but good?
burthen of Amiens' song: Come hither, come hither,
high-born persons. 3i. e. made up of discords.
i. e. petition.

1 Lord. My lord, he is but even now gone Here was he merry, hearing of a song.

[hence;

Duke Sen. If he, compact of jars', grow musical, We shall have shortly discord in the spheres:Go, seek him; tell him, I would speak with him.

1

2

That is, bring him to me; alluding to the come hither. A proverbial expression for a parti-coloured fool, alluding to his coat.

60

* i, e.

For

Act 2. Scene 7.]

AS YOU LIKE IT.

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 licence of free foot hast caught,
Wouldst thou disgorge into the general world.
Jaq. Why, who cries out on pride,
That can therein tax any private party?
Doth it not flow as hugely as the sea,
"Till that the very means do ebb?
What woman in the city do I name,
When that I The
say, 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 neighbour?
Or what is he of basest function,

And therefore sit you down in gentleness, And take upon command what help we have That to your wanting may be ministred. Orla. Then but forbear your food a little while, 5 Whiles, like a doe, I go to find my fawn, old poor man, And give it food. There is an Who after me hath many a weary step Limp'd in pure love; 'till he be first suffic'd,-Oppress'd with two weak evils,age, and hunger,101 will not touch a bit.

15

That says, his bravery is not on my cost,
(Thinking that I mean hin) but therein suits
[wherein
His folly to the metal of my speech?
There then; How then? What then? Let me see
My tongue hath wrong'd him: if it do him right, 20
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?

Duke Sen. Go find him out,

And we will nothing waste till your return.
Orla. I thank ye: and be bless'd for your good

comfort!

[Exit.

[happy:

Duke Sen. Thou seest, we are not all alone un-
This wide and universal theatre
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 :
25 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' eyebrow: Then, a soldier;
Full of strange oaths, and bearded like the pard,
Jealous in honour, sudden and quick in quarrel,
[tice;
Seeking the bubble reputation

Enter Orlando, with his sword drawn.
Oria. Forbear, and eat no more.
Jaq. Why, I have eat none yet.
Oria. Nor shalt not, 'till necessity be serv'd.
Jaq. Of what kind should this cock come of?
Duke Sen. Art thou thus bolden'd, man, by thy
Or else a rude despiser of good manners, [distress; 30
[point
That in civility thou seem'st so empty?

Orla. You touch'd my vein at first; the thorny
Of bare distress hath ta'en from me the shew
Of smooth civility: yet am I inland bred,
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 reason, I must die.

Duke Sen. What would you have? Your gen-40
tleness shall force,

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

shifts

Even in the cannon's mouth: And then, the jus-
lin'd,
In fair round belly, with good capon
35 With eyes severe, and beard of formal cut,
Full of wise saws and modern3 instances,
And so he plays his part: The sixth age
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 towards 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 Sen. Welcome: Set down your venerable
[burden,
And let him feed.

[you; 45

Orla. Speak you so gently? Pardon me, I pray
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;

If ever been where bells have knoll'd to church;

sword.

50

Orla. I thank you most for him.
Adam. So had you need,

I scarce can speak to thank you for myself. [you
Duke Sen. Welcome, fall to: I will not trouble
As yet, to question you about your fortunes:-
55 Give us some musick; and, good cousin, sing.
Amiens sings.
SONG.
Blow, blow, thou winter wind,
Thou art not so unkind

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:
my
In the which hope, I blush, and hide
DukeSen. True is it, that we have seen better days;60
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:

1 Nurture means education. according to Mr. Stevens.

As man's ingratitude;
Thy tooth is not so keen,
Because thou art not seen,
Although thy breath be rude.

i. e. at your own command.
3

3i. e. trite, common instances, Heigh

Duke Sen. If that you were the good sir Row-
land's son,-

As you have whispered faithfully, you were;
And as mine eye doth his effigies witness
5 Most truly limn'd and living in your face,-
Be truly welcome hither: I am the duke, [tune,
That lov'd your father: The residue of your for-
Go to my cave and tell me.—Good old man,
Thou art right welcome, as thy master is :-
10 Support him by the arm.-Give me your hand,
And letme all your fortunes understand. [Exeunt.

ACT III.

SCENE I.

The Palace.

Enter Duke, Lords, und Oliver.

Duke. NOT

Enter Corin and Clown.

Cor. And how like you this shepherd's life,

see him since? Sir, sir, that 25 master Touchstone?
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.

Thy lands, and all things that thou dost call thine,
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. Oh, that your highness knew my heart in

Cio. 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 ike it very well; but in respect that it is private, 30t 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 it is a spare life, look you, it fits my humour well; but as there is no more plenty in it, it goes much against my sto35 mach. Hast any philosophy in thee, shepherd?

Cor. No more, but that I know, the more one sickens, the worse at ease he is; and that he that wants money, means, and content, is without three good friends:That the property of rain is to wet, 40 and fire to burn:-That good pasture makes fat Sheep: and that a great cause of the night, is the lack of the sun: That he, that hath learned no wit by nature nor art, may complain of good breeding, or comes of a very dull kindred.

1451

50

Clo. Such a one is a natural philosopher. Wast ever in court, shepherd?

Cor. No, truly,"

Clo. Then thou art damn'd.

Cor. Nay, I hope,

Clo. Truly, thou art damn'd; like an ill-roastled egg, all on one side.

Cor. For not being at court? Your reason.

Clo. Why, if thou never wast at court, thou never saw'st good manners: if thou never saw'st 55 good manners, then thy manners must be wicked; and wickedness is sin, and sin is damnation: Thou art in a parlous' state, shepherd.

Cor. Not a whit, Touchstone: those, that are good manners at the court, are as ridiculous in the

1i. e. turn or change them from their natural state. 2 To make an extent of lands, is a legal phrase, from the words of a writ (extendi facias) whereby the sheriff is directed to cause certain lands to be appraised to their full extended value, before he delivers them to the person entitled under a recognizance, &c. i. e. expeditiously. Inexpressible. Perilous.

5

country,