And take upon command* what help we have,
That to your wanting may be minster'd.

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 sufficed,-
Oppress'd with two great evils, age and hunger,—
I will not touch a bit.

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 unhappy:

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;
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

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 shifts
Into the lean and slipper'd pantaloon;
With spectacles on nose, and pouch on side;
His youthful hose, well saved, 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 everything.
Re-enter ORLANDO, with ADAM.

Duke S. Welcome: Set down your venerable burden,

And let him feed.

Orl. I thank you most for him.

Adam. So had you need;

I scarce can speak to thank you for myself.

+ Trite, common.

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.

AMIENS sings.

SONG.

I.

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.

II.

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 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,

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.

[Exeunt.

ACT III.

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,

*Unnatural.

† Remembering.

# Subject, object.

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.

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,t and turn him going.

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
With thy chaste eye, from thy pale sphere above,
Thy huntress' name, that my whole life doth sway.
O Rosalind! these trees shall be
my books,
And in these barks my thoughts I'll character;
That every eye, which in this forest looks,
Shall see thy virtue witness'd everywhere.
Run, run, Orlando; carve on every tree,,
The fair, the chaste, and unexpressive she.

Enter CORIN and TOUCHSTONE.

[Exeunt.

Exit.

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 he that wants money, means, and Irain is to wet, and fire to burn: That good pasture makes fat content, is without three good friends:-That the property of 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 com

Touch. Such a one is a natural philosopher. Wast ever in

court, shepherd?

Cor. No, truly.

Touch. Then thou art damn'd.
Cor. Nay, I hope,-

Touch. Truly, thou art damn'd: like an ill-roasted egg, all on

one side.

* Seize by legal process.

† Expeditiously.

+ Inexpressible.

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 worms-meat, 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 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 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 she-lamb 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 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 lined,†

Are but black to Rosalind.

* Unexperienced.

† Delineated.

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 butterwoman'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 lined,
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 your

self 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 ere 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.

Ros. Peace!

Enter CELIA, reading a paper

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;

Teaching all that read, to know
The quintessence of every sprite
Heaven would in little § show.