Imatges de pàgina

Therefore my age is as a lufty winter,

Frofty, but kindly; let me go with you;'


I'll do the fervice of a younger man
In all your business and neceflities.

Orla. Oh! good old man, how well in thee appears The conftant fervice of the antique world; When fervice fweat for duty, not for meed! Thou art not for the fashion of these times, Where none will fweat, but for promotion; And having that, do choak their fervice up Even with the having; it is not fo with thee; But, poor old man, thou prun'ft a rotten tree, That cannot fo much as a blossom yield, In lieu of all thy pains and husbandry. But come thy ways, we'll go along together; And ere we have thy youthful wages spent, We'll light upon fome fettled low content.

Adam. Maiter, go on; and I will follow thee To the laft gafp with truth and loyalty. From feventeen years till now almost fourfcore Here lived I, but now live here no more. At feventeen years many their fortunes feek; But at fourfcore, it is too late a week; Yet Fortune cannot recompence me better Than to die well, and not my mafter's debtor. [Exeunt. SCENE IV. Changes to the foreft of Arden.

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Enter Rofalind in boys cloaths for Ganymede, Celia
drefs'd like a fhepherdefs for Aliena, and Clown.
Rof. O Jupiter! how weary are my fpirits?
Clo. I care not for my fpirits, if my legs were not


Rof. I could find in my heart to difgrace my man's apparel, and cry like a woman; but I must comfort the weaker veffel, as doublet and hofe ought to fhow itself courageous to petticoat: therefore, courage, good Aliena.

Gel. I pray you, bear with me, I can go no further.

Clo. For my part, I had rather bear with you, than


bear you; yet I fhould bear no crofs, if I did bear you; for I think you have no money in your purse. Rof. Well, this is the forest of Arden.

Clo. Ay; now I am in Arden, the more fool I; when I was at home, I was in a better place; but travellers must be content.

Rof. Ay, be fo, good Touchftone. Look you, who comes here; a young man and an old in folemn talk. Enter Corin and Sylvius.

Cor. That is the way to make her fcorn you ftill. Syl. O Corin, that thou knew'ft how I do love her! Cor. I partly guess; for I have lov'd ere now. Syl. No, Corin, being old, thou can'ft not guefs, Though in thy youth thou waft as true a lover, As ever figh'd upon a midnight-pillow; But if thy love were ever like to mine, (As fure, I think, did never man love fo), How many actions most ridiculous Haft thou been drawn to by thy fantasy?

Cor. Into a thoufand that I have forgotten.

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Syl. O, thou didst then ne'er love fo heartily;

If thou remember'ft not the flighteft folly,

That ever love did make thee run into;

Thou haft not lov'd.

Or if thou haft not fat as I do now,

Wearying the hearer in thy miftrefs' praife,
Thou hast not lov'd. ---

• Or if thou haft not broke from company Abruptly, as my paffion now makes me; Thou haft not lov'd.'


O Phebe Phebe ! Phebe !

[Exit. Syl.

Rof. Alas, poor fhepherd! fearching of thy wound, I have by hard adventure found my own.

Clo. " And I mine. I remember, when I was in "love, I broke my fword upon a stone, and bid him "take that for coming a-nights to Jane Smile; and I "remember the kifling of her batlet, and the cow's


dugs that her pretty chopt hands had milk'd; and "I remember the wooing of a peafcod inftead of her, "from whom I took two cods, and giving her them "again, faid with weeping tears, Wear thefe for my


"fake. We that are true lovers, run into strange capers; but as all is mortal in nature, fo is all na "ture in love mortal in folly."

Ref. Thou fpeak'ft wifer, than thou art ware of. Cl. Nay, I fhall ne'er be ware of mine own wit, till I break my shins against it.

Rof. Jove! Jove! this fhepherd's paffion is much fashion.

upon my

Clo. And mine; but it grows fomething ftale with me. Cel. I pray you, one of you question yond man, If he for gold will give us any food;

I faint almost to death.

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Clo. Hola; you, clown!

Rof. Peace, fool; he's not thy kinfman.
Cor. Who calls?

Clo. Your betters, Sir.

Cor. Elfe they are very wretched.

Rof. Peace, I fay; Good even to you, friend. Cor. And to you, gentle Sir, and to you all. Rof. I pr'ythee, fhepherd, if that love or gold, Can in this defart place buy entertainment, Bring us where we may reft ourfelves, and feed; Here's a young maid with travel much opprefs'd, And faints for fuccour.

Cor. Fair Sir, I pity her,

And wish for her fake, more than for mine own,
My fortunes were more able to relieve her :
But I am fhepherd to another man,
And do not iheer the fleeces that I grafe;
My master is of a churlish difpofition,
And little wreaks to find the way to heav'n
By doing deeds of hofpitality:
Befides, his cote, his flocks, and bounds of feed
Are now on fale, and at our sheep-cote now,
By reafon of his abfence, there is nothing
That you will feed on; but what is, come fee,
And in my voice moft welcome shall you be.

Rof. What is he that shall buy his flock and pa


Cor. That young fwain that you faw here but ere

while, That little cares for buying any thing.


Rof. I pray thee, if it stand with honesty,
Buy thou the cottage, pafture, and the flock,
And theu fhalt 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. Affuredly, the thing is to be fold; Go with me; if you like, upon report, The foil, the profit, and this kind of life, I will your very faithful feeder be; And buy it with your gold right suddenly. [Exeunt.

SCENE V. Changes to a defart part of the foreft. Enter Amiens, Jaques, and others.


Under the greenwood-tree,
Who loves to lie with me,

And tune his merry note,
Unto the fweet birds throat,

Come hither, come hither, come hither!
Here fhall he fee

No enemy,

Bul winter and rough weather.

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Jaq. More, more, I pr'ythee, more.

Ami. It will make you melancholy, Monfieur Jaques. Jaq. I thank it; more, I pr'ythee, more; I can fuck melancholy out of a fong, as a weazel fuck's eggs : more, I pr'ythee, more.

Ami. My voice is rugged; I know I cannot please


Jaq. "I do not defire you to please me, I do defire you to fing;" come, come, another ftanzo; call you 'em ftanzo's ?

Ami. What you will, Monfieur, Jaques.

Jaq. Nay, I care not for their names, they owe me nothing. Will you fing?

Ami. More at your requeft, than to please myself. Jaq. Well then, if ever I thank any man, I'll thank you; but that they call compliments, is like the encounter of two dog-apes. And when a man thanks

me heartily, methinks I have given him a penny, and he renders me the beggarly thanks. Come, fing; and you that will not, hold your tongues.

Ami. Well, I'll end the fong, Sirs; cover the while; the Duke will dine under this tree; he hath been all this day to look you.

Jaq. And I have been all this day to avoid him. He is too difputable for my company: I think of as many matters as he, but I give Heav'n thanks, and make no boast of them. Come, warble, come.


Who doth ambition fhun,
And loves to lie i' th' fun,
Seeking the food he eats,
And pleas'd with what he gets;
Come hither, come hither, come hither;

Here fhall he fee

No enemy

But winter and rough weather.

Jaq. I'll give you a verfe to this note, that I made yesterday in defpight of my invention. Ami. And I'll fing it. Jaq. Thus it goes.

If it do come to pass,
That any man turn afs;
Leaving his wealth and cafe
A ftubborn will to pleafe,

Duc ad me, duc ad me, duc ad me;
Here fhall be fee
Grofs fools as he,

An if he will come to me.

Ami. What's that Duc ad me?

Jaq. 'Tis a Greek invocation, to call fools into a circle. I'll go to fleep if I can; if I cannot, I'll rail against all the firft-born of Egypt.

Ami. And I'll go feek the Duke; his banquet is prepar'd. [Exeunt, feverally. SCENE VI. Enter Orlando and Adam. Adam. Dear mafter, I can go no further; O, I die VOL. II.



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