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:

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; 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.

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:
[feed,
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.

[Exeunt.

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.

made yesterday in despite of my invention.
Jaq. I'll give you a verse to this note, that I
Ami. And I'll sing it.
Juq. 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, ducdame;
Here shall 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 rugged had formerly the same meaning. + Disputatious.

AMEINS 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 ministred.

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,

Duke S. Go find him out, And we will nothing waste till you return. Orl. I thank ye; and be bless'd for your 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
Trel,
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.

SONG.

1.

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.

11.

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
As friend remember'd not.
Heigh, ho! sing, heigh, ho! &c.

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.

SCENE I-A Room in the Palace. Enter Duke FREDERICK, OLIVER, Lords, and

Attendants.

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,
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.

[thine,

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.

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

[Exeunt.

Orl. Hang there, my verse, in witness of my [survey

love:

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 my books, O Rosalind! these trees shall be And in these barks my thoughts I'll character;

* Unnatural.

Scize by legal process.

+ Remembering. Expeditiously

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.

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

Touch. 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 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 stomach. 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 be that wants money, means, and content, is without three good friends:-That the property of rain is to wet, and fire to burn: That good pasture makes fat sheep: and that a great cause of the night, is 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.

Touch. Such a one is a natural philosopher.
Wast ever in court, shepherd?
Cor. No, truly.

Touch. Then thou art damned.
Cor. Nay, I hope,—

Touch. Truly, thou art damned; like an illroasted egg, all on one side.

Cor. For not being at court? Your reason. Touch. Why, if thou never wast at court, thou never saw'st good manners; if thou never saw'st 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 country, as the behaviour of the country is most mockable at the court. You told me, you salute not at the court, but you kiss your hands; that courtesy would be uncleanly, if courtiers were shepherds.

Touch. Instance, briefly; come, instance. Cor. Why, we are still handling our ewes; and their fells, you know, are greasy., Touch. Why, do not your courtier's hands sweat? and is not the grease of a mutton as wholesome as the sweat of a man? Shallow, shallow: A better instance, I say; come. Cor. Besides, our hands are hard. Touch. Your lips will feel them the sooner. Shallow, again: A more sounder instance,

come.

Cor. 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 perfumed

with civet.

Touch. Most shallow man! Thou wormsmeat, in respect of a good piece of flesh: Indeed!-Learn of the wise, and prepend: Civet is of a baser birth than tar; the very uncleanly flux of a cat. Mend the instance, shepherd. Cor. You have too courtly a wit for me; I'll

rest.

Touch. Wilt thou rest damn'd? God help

* Inexpressible.

thee, shallow man! God make incision in thee! thou art raw.*

Cor. 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.

Touch. That is another simple sin in you; to offer to get your living by the copulation of bring the ewes and the rams together, and to cattle: to be bawd to a bell-wether; and to betray a she-lamb of a twelvemonth, to a crooked-pated, old cuckoldly ram, out of all for this, the devil himself will have no shepreasonable match. If thou be'st not damn'd herds; I cannot see else how thou shouldst 'scape.

Cor. Here comes young master Ganymede, my new mistress' brother.

Enter ROSALIND, reading a paper.
Ros. From the east to western Ind,
No jewel is like Rosalind.

Her worth, being mounted on the wind,
Through all the world bears Rosalind.
All the pictures, fairest lin❜d,†
Are but black to Rosalind.

Let no face be kept in mind,
But the fair of Rosalind.

Touch. I'll rhyme you so, eight years together; dinners, and suppers, and sleeping hours excepted: it is the right butter-woman's rank to market.

Ros. Out, fool!
Touch. For a taste:-

If a hart do lack a hind,
Let him seek out Rosalind.
If the cat will after kind,
So, be sure, will Rosalind.
Winter-garments must be lin’d,
So must slender Rosalind.
They that reap, must sheaf and bind;
Then to cart with Rosalind.
Sweetest nut hath sourest rind,
Such a nut is Rosalind.

He that sweetest rose will find,
Must find love's prick, and Rosalind.
This is the very false gallop of verses; Why do
you infect yourself with them.

Ros. Peace, you dull fool; I found them on a tree.

Touch. Truly the tree yields bad fruit.

Ros. I'll graff it with you, and then I shall graff it with a medlar: then it will be the earliest fruit in the country: for you'll be rotten e'er you be half ripe, and that's the right virtue of the medlar.

Touch. You have said; but whether wisely or no, let the forest judge.

Enter CELIA, reading a paper. Ros. Peace!

Here comes my sister, reading; stand aside.

Cel. Why should this desert silent be?
For it is unpeopled? No;
Tongues I'll hang on every tree,
That shall civils sayings show.
Some, how brief the life of man
Runs his erring pilgrimage;
That the stretching of a span
Buckles in his sum of age.
+ Delineated.
Grave, solemn.

* Unexperienced, Complexion, beauty.

Some, of violated cows

'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 heurts,

To hate the touches* dearest priz'd. Heaven would that she these gifts should And I to live and die her slave. [huve, Ros. O most gentle Jupiter!-what tedious homily of love have you wearied your parishioners withal, and never cried, Have patience, good people!

Cel. How now! back friends;-Shepherd, go off a little :-Go with him, sirrah.

Touch. Come, shepherd, let us make an honourable retreat; though not with bag and baggage, yet with scrip and scrippage.

[Exeunt CORIN and TOUCHSTONE. Cel. Didst thou hear these verses? Ros. O, yes, I heard them all, and more too; for some of them had in them more feet than the verses would bear.

Cel. That's no matter; the feet might bear

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 be. rhymed 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!t

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 narrowmouth'd bottle; either too much at once, or none at all. I pr'ythee take the cork out of thy mouth, that I may drink thy tidings.

Cel. So you may put a nran 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? Wherein went he ? What makes he here? Did he ask for me? Where remains he? How parted he with thee? and when shalt thou see him again? Answer me in one word.

mouth first: 'tis a word too great for any mouth Cel. You must borrow me Garagantua's! of this age's size: To say, ay, and no, to these particulars, is more than to answer in a cate.

chism.

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 drops forth such fruit.

Cel. Give me audience, good madam.

Ros. Proceed.

Orl.