Even in the cannon's mouth. And then the justice,
In fair round belly with good capon lined,

With eyes severe and beard of formal cut,
Full of wise saws and modern 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,

shifts

His youthful hose, well saved, a world too wide 160
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.

And let him feed.

Set down your venerable burthen,

Orl. I thank you most for him.

need:

Adam.
So had you
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.

170

Ami.

SONG.

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.

179

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.

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, &c.

Duke S. If that you were the good Sir Rowland'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

190

residue of
your
Good old man,

That loved your father: the
Go to my cave and tell me.
Thou art right welcome as thy master is.

Support him by the arm.

fortune,

Give me your hand, 199

And let me all your fortunes understand.

[Exeunt.

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.

10

Oli. O that your Highness knew my heart in this!

I never loved my brother in my life.

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:

my

And thou, thrice-crowned queen of night, survey
With thy chaste eye, from thy pale sphere above,
Thy huntress' name that
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. 10
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
private, it is a very vile life.

respect that it is

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 he 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 dull kindred.

of a very

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.