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,

1201

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: "Thus may we see," quoth he, "how the world “"Tis but an hour ago, since it was nine; [wags: 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? Juq. 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 Egypt. 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
cat, 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 transform'd into a beast:
For I can no where find him like a man.

I

[courtier;

In mangled forms:-O, that I were a fool!
am anibitious 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.
Duke Sen. Fie on thee! I can tell what thou would'st
Jaq. What, for a counter, would I do but good?
60 DukeSen. Most mischievous foul sin, inchiding sin:
burthen of Amiens' song: Come hither, come hither,
high-born persons. i. e. made up of discords.
i. e. petition.

1 Lord. My lord, he is but even now gone Here was he nierry, 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.

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

[do.

* i. e.

For

For thou thyself hast been a libertine,
As sensual as the brutish sting itself;

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,
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 weak evils,age, and hunger,-
10 will not touch a bit.

15

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 say, The 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,
That says, his bravery is not on my cost,
(Thinking that I mean him) but therein suits
His folly to the metal of my speech? _ [wherein
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?
Enter Orlando, with his sword drawn.
Orla. Forbear, and eat no more.
Jaq. Why, I have eat none yet.
Orla. 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
That in civility thou seem'st so empty? [point
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

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,
Seeking the bubble reputation
[tice;

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.

Even in the cannon's mouth: And then, the jus-
In fair round belly, with good capon lin❜d,
35 With eyes severe, and beard of formal cut,
Full of wise saws and modern' 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 say'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
And let him feed.
[burden,

[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;

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 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 Sen. 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:

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

• Nurture means education. 2 i. e. at your own command. according to Mr. Stevens.

i. 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 elligies witness
5 Most truly limin'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

SCENE I.

The Palace.

Enter Duke, Lords, and Oliver.

Duke. NOT

III.

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

OT 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

in witness of my
[vey

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, 30 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 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.

45

50

And thou, thrice-crowned queen of night, sur
With thy chaste eye, from thy pale sphere above,
Thy huntress' name, that my full life doth sway. 55
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.

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 thon 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

1 i, 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,

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.

Clo. Instance, briefly; come, instance.

Cor. Why, we are still handling our ewes; and their fells you know are greasy.

5

Clo. Why, do not your courtiers' hands sweat? and is not the grease of a mutton as wholesome as 10 the sweat of a man? Shallow, shallow: A better instance, I say; come.

Cor. Besides, our hands are hard.

Clo. 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 ci

vet.

15

Cor. Sir, I am a true labourer; I earn that 130 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.

Clo. That is another simple sin in you; to bring 35 the ewes and rams together, and to offer to get your living by the copulation of 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 reasonable match. If thou 40 be'st not damn'd for this, the devil himself will have no shepherds; I cannot see else how thou should'st 'scape.

Cor. Here comes young Mr. Ganimed, my pew mistress's brother.

dinners, and suppers, and sleeping hours excepted;
it is the right butter-woman's rate to market.
Ros Out, fool!

Clo. 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.

66 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 da you infect yourself with them?

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

tree.

Clo. Truly, the tree yields bad fruit. Ros. I'll graft it with you, and then I shall graft it with a medlar: then it will be the earliest fruit the country; for you'll be rotten ere you be half ripe, and that's the right virtue of the medlar. Clo. You have said; but whether wisely or no, let the forest judge.

Enter Celia, with a writing.

3

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 civil 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. "Some, of violated vows

""Twixt the souls of friend and friend: "But upon the fairest boughs,

"Or at every sentence' end,

"Will I Rosalinda write;

45

Enter Rosalind with 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.

50

"Teaching all that read, to know "This 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.

4

' Dr. Warburton says, To make incision was a proverbial expression then in vogue for, to make to understand; while Mr. Steevens thinks, that it alludes to the common expression, of cutting such a one for the simples. 2 Fair means beauty, complexion. 3 Civil is here used in the same sense as when we say civil life, in opposition to the state of nature. The commentators are much divided in their opinions on our author's meaning in this line. Dr. Johnson is of opinion, that Shakspeare seems here to have mistaken some other character for that of Atalanta. Mr. Tollet thinks, the poet may perhaps mean her beauty, and graceful elegance of shape, which he would prefer to her swiftness; or that it may allude probably to her being a maiden; while Mr. Farmer supposes Atalanta's better part is her wit, i. e. the swiftness of her mind. i. e. grave or suber. "Thus

"And I to live and die her slave." Ros. O most gentle Jupiter!-what tedious homily of love have you wearied your parishioners withal, and never cry'd, "Have patience, good 10 people!"

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

Clo. Come,shepherd, led us make an honourable retreat; though not with bag and baggage, yet 15 with scrip and scrippage. [Exeunt Corin and Clo. 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 hang'd and carv'd upon these trees?

Cel. So you may put a man 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 20me? Where remains he? How parted he with thee? And when shalt thou see him again? Answer me in one word.

25

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

Ros. But doth he know that I am in this forest, in man's apparel? Looks he as freshly as he did the day he wrestled?

Ros. I was seven of the nine days out of wonder, before you came; for look here what I found on 30 a palm-tree: I was never so be-rhimed since Pythe thagoras' 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. It is as easy to count atomies, as to resolve propositions of a lover:--but take a taste of my finding him, and relish it with good observance. I found him under a tree, like a dropp'd acorn. Ros. It may well be call'd Jove's tree, when it 35 drops forth such fruit.

Cel. O lord, lord! it is a hard matter for friends to meet; but mountains may be remov'd with 40 earthquakes, and so encounter.

Ros. Nay, but who is it?

Cel. Is it possible?

Ros. Nay, I pr'ythee 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!

45

Ros. Good my complexion! dost thou think, though I am caparison'd like a man, I have a dou-50 blet 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: would thou couldst stammer, that thou might'st pour this concealed man out of thy mouth, as wine 55 comes out of a narrow-mouth'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.

I

I

Cel. Give me audience, good madam,

Ros. Proceed.

Cl. There lay he, stretch'd along, like a wound- ' ed knight.

Ros. Though it be pity to see such a sight, it well becomes the ground.

Cel. Cry, holloa! to thy tongue, I pr'ythee; it curvets unseasonably. He was furnish'd like a hunter.

Ros. Oh ominous! he comes to kill my heart. Cel. I would sing my soug without a burden: thou bring'st me out of tune.

Ros. Do you not know I am a woman? when think, I must speak. Sweet, say on.

Enter Orlando and Jaques.

Cel. You bring me out:-Soft! comes he not here? Ros. 'Tis he; Slink by, and note him. [Čelia and Rosalind retire. Jaq. I thank you for your company; but, good faith, I had as lief have been myself alone.

Orla. And so had I; but yet, for fashion sake, thank you too for your society. [we can. Jaq. God be with you; let's meet as little as

1i. e. features. 2 Rosalind here alludes to the Pythagorean doctrine, which teaches that souls transmigrate from one animal to another, and says, that in his time she was an Irish rat, and by some metrical charm was rhymed to death. The power of killing rats with rhymes is mentioned by Donne in his Satires. 3 Warburton conjectures the meaning to be, hold good my complexion, i. e. let me "That is, a discovery as far off as the South-sea. Garagantua is the giant of Rabelais, and said to have swallowed five pilgrims, their staves and all, in a sallad.

not blush.

Orla.