Your brother (no, no brother; yet the son- He will have other means to cut you off: 1 This is no place, this house is but a butchery; Orl. Why, whither, Adam, would'st thou have Iman's apparel, and to cry like a woman: but I must comfort the weaker vessel, as doublet and hose ought to show itself courageous to petticoat: therefore, courage, good Aliena. Cel. I pray you, bear with me; I cannot go no further. Touch. For my part, I had rather bear with you, than bear you: yet I should bear no cross,' if I did bear you; for, I think, you have no money in your purse. Ros. Well, this is the forest of Arden. Touch. Ay, now am I in Arden: the more fool Adam. No matter whither, so you come not here. 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 Adam. But do not so: I have five hundred The thrifty hire I sav'd under your father, Orl. O good old n.an; how well in thee appears Adam. Master, go on; and I will follow thee, [Exeunt. SCENE IV.-The Forest of Arden. Enter Ros. O Jupiter! how weary are my spirits! Touch. I care not for my spirits, if my legs were not weary. Ros. I could find in my heart to disgrace my (1) Mansion, residence. (2) Blood turned from its natural course. 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. Cor. Into a thousand that I have forgotten. Or if thou hast not sat as I do now, Or if thou has not broke from company, Ros. Alas, poor shepherd! searching of thy I have by hard adventure found mine own. 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 Touch. And mine; but it grows something stale with me. Cel. I pray you, one of you question yond man, Touch. Holla; you, clown! Peace, fool; he's not thy kinsman. Cor. Who calls? Touch. Your betters, sir. Cor. Else are they very wretched. Ros. Good even to you, friend. Peace, I say: Cor. Fair sir, I pity her, But I am shepherd to another inan, Besides, his cote, his flocks, and bounds of feed, Cor. That young swain that you saw here but 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: and others. SONG. Ami. Under the greenwood tree, And tune his merry note Come hither, come hither, come hither; No enemy, But winter and rough weather. But winter and rough weather. Jaq. I'll give you a verse to this note, that I made yesterday in despite of my invention. Ami. And I'll sing it. Jaq. Thus it goes: If it do come to pass, An if he will come to Ami. Ami. What's that ducdàme? Jaq. 'Tis a Greek invocation, to call fools into 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. Adam. Enter Orlando and 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. 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 a while at the arm's end: I will here be with Jaq. More, more, I pr'ythee, more. Ami. It will make you melancholy, monsieur to eat, I'll give thee leave to die: but if thou diest thee presently; and if I bring thee not something Jaques. before I come, thou art a mocker of my labour. Jaq. I thank it. More, I pr'ythee, more. I can Well said! thou look'st cheerly; and I'll be with suck melancholy out of a song, as a weazel sucks thee quickly.-Yet thou liest in the bleak air: eggs: More, I pr'ythee, more. Ami. My voice is ragged; I know, I cannot shalt not die for lack of a dinner, if there live any Come, I will bear thee to some shelter; and thou please you. Jaq. I do not desire you to please me, I do desire thing in this desert. Cheerly, good Adam! [Exe. you to sing: Come, more; another stanza; Call SCENE VII.-The same. A table set out. Enter you them stanzas? Ami. What you will, monsieur Jaques. 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 records me the beggarly thanks. Cares. Ragged and rugged had formerly the same meaning. Duke senior, Amiens, Lords, and others. Duke S. I think he be transform'd into a beast; For I can no where find him like a man. 1 Lord. My lord, he is but even now gone hence; Here was he merry, hearing of a song. Duke S. 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. Enter Jaques. 1 Lord. He saves my labour by his own approach, (3) Disputatious. (4) Made up of discords. Duke S. Why, how now, monsieur! what a life is this, That your poor friends must woo your company? What! you look merrily. Jaq. A fool, a fool!--I met a fool i' the forest, Thus may we see, quoth ke, how the world wags: A worthy fool! Motley's the only wear.1 Jaq. O worthy fool!-One that hath been courtier ; And says, if ladies be but young, and fair, It is my only suit; In mangled forms:-0, that I were a fool! Even by the squandering glances of the fool. To speak my mind, and I will through and through The cost of princes on unworthy shoulders? There then; How, what then? Let me see wherein distress; Or else a rude despiser of good manners, Orl. You touch'd my vein at first; the thorny point Of bare distress hath ta'en from me the show a Till I and my affairs are answered. Jaq. An you will not be answered with reason, I must die. Duke S. What would you have? Your gentle. More than your force move us to gentleness. table. Orl. Speak you so gently? Pardon me, I pray you: I thought that all things had been savage here; Of stern commandment: But whate'er you are, Under the shade of melancholy boughs, days; And have with holy bell been knoll'd to church; Duke S. Fie on thee! I can tell what thou Of drops that sacred pity hath engender'd: would'st do. Jaq, What, for a counter, would I do, but good? (1) The fool was anciently dressed in a partycoloured coat. And therefore sit you down in gentleness, Orl. Then, but forbear your food a little while, And we will nothing Orl. I thank ye; comfort! (2) Finery. Go find him out, waste till you return. and be bless'd for your good (3) Well brought up. Good manners, (Exit. Duke S. Thou seest, we are not all alone un-As you have whisper'd faithfully, you were; happy: This wide and universal theatre Presents more woful pageants than the scene Even in the cannon's mouth: And then, the justice; Duke S. Welcome: set down your venerable And let him feed. Orl. Duke S. Welcome, fall to: I will not trouble you Blow, blow, thou winter wind, As man's ingratitude; Thy tooth is not so keen, Heigh, ho! sing, heigh, ho! unto the green holly: Then, heigh, ho, the holly! II. Freeze, freeze, thou bitter sky, As friend remember'd not. Heigh, ho! sing, heigh, ho! &c. And as mine eye doth his effigies witness ACT III. SCENE I-A room in the palace. Enter Duke Duke F. Not see him since? Sir, sir, that can. I should not seek an absent argument Thy lands, and all things that thou dost call thine, Oli. O, that your highness knew my heart in this And let my officers of such a nature 6 [Exe. SCENE II.-The Forest. Enter Orlando, with a paper. Orl. Hang there, my verse, in witness of my love: And, thou, thrice-crowned queen of night, survey Shall see thy virtue witness'd every where. Cor. And how like you this shepherd's life, mas ter 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 thou 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 Duke S. If that you were the good sir Row-sheep; and that a great cause of the night, is lack 383 land's son, of the sun: That he, that hath learned no wit by Touch. Truly, thou art damn'd; 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 This mockable at the court. You told me, you salute you 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. If a hart do lack a hind, They that reap, must sheaf and bind; He that sweetest rose will find, is the very false gallop of verses; Why do infect yourself with them? Ros. Peace, you dull fool; I found them on a tree. Ros. I'll graff it with you, and then I shall graft it with a medlar: then it will be the earliest fruit in the country: for you'll be rotten ere you be half ripe, and that's the right virtue of the medlar. Touch. You have said; but whether wisely or Touch. Why, do not your courtier's hands sweat? and is not the grease of a mutton as whole-no, let the forest judge. some 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 worms-meat, in respect of a good piece of flesh: Indeed!Learn of the wise, and perpend: 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 thee, shallow man! God make incision in thee! thou art raw.1 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 another simple sin in you; to bring the ewes and the 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 shelamb of a twelvemonth, to a crooked-pated, old, cuckoldly ram, out of all reasonable match. If thou 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 master Ganymede, my new mistress's brother. Enter Rosalind, reading a paper. Ros. From the east to western Ind, Her worth, being mounted on the wind, Are but black to Rosalind. Let no face be kept in mind, Touch. I'll rhyme you so, eight years together; Complexion, beauty. (2) Delive, steden. I Grave, solemn. Enter Celia, reading a paper. Ros. Peace! Here comes my sister, reading; stand aside. 'Twixt the souls of friend and friend: But upon the fairest boughs, Or at every sentence' end, Teaching all that read, to know Sad Lucretia's modesty. To have the touches dearest priz'd. Ros. O most gentle Jupiter!-what tedious homily of love have you wearied your parishioners withal, and never cry'd, 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. [Exe. Cor. and Touch. Cel. Didst thou hear these verses? Ros. O, yes, I heard them all, and more too; (5) Features. |