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 remembered not.

Heigh-ho! sing, &c.

185

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

As you have whispered faithfully you were,

And as mine eye doth his effigies witness

Most truly limned and living in your face,

Be truly welcome hither: I am the duke

That loved 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.

Scene I. A room in the palace.

191

195

[Exeunt.

Enter DUKE FREDERICK, Lords, and Oliver.

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, whereso'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. O that your highness knew my heart in this!
I never loved my brother in my life.

IO

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.

15

[Exeunt.

Enter ORLANDO, with a paper, which he hangs on a tree.
Orl. Hang there, my verse, in witness of my love:
And thou, thrice-crowned queen of night, survey
With thy chaste eye, from thy pale sphere above,
Thy huntress' name that my 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 witnessed every where.
Run, run, Orlando; carve on every tree
The fair, the chaste and unexpressive she.

Enter Corin and TOUCHSTONE.

[Exit.

5

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

I2

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 humor well; but as there is no more plenty in it, it goes much against my stomach. Hast any philosophy in thee, shepherd?

21

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 earned 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?

31

Touch. Truly, thou art damned, like an ill-roasted egg all on one side.

Cor. For not being at court? Your reason.

36

Touch. Why, if thou never wast at court, thou never sawest good manners; if thou never sawest good manners, then thy manners must be wicked; and wickedness is sin, and sin is damnation. Thou art in a parlous state, shepherd.

42

Cor. Not a whit, Touchstone: those that are good manners at the court are as ridiculous in the country as the behavior of the country is most mockable at the