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 wafte
My time in it.

Cor. Assuredly 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.

SCENE V.

Enter Amiens, Jaques, and others.

SONG.

Under the green-wood tree,
Who loves to lye with me,
And tune bis merry note,
Unto the sweet birds throat;

Come bitber, come bitber, come bither

Here shall be fee
No enemy,

But winter and rough weather.

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

[Exeunt

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

Ami. My voice is rugged, I know I cannot please you. Jaq. I do not defire you to please me, I do defire you to fing; come, come, another stanzo: call you 'em stanzo'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 request, than to please my self. Jaq. Well then, if ever I thank any man, I'll thank you; but that they call compliment is like th' 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 song. Sirs, cover the while; the Duke

C2

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 boaft of them. Come, warble, come.

But winter and rough weather.

:

:

Jaq. I'll give you a verse to this note, that I made yef

terday in despight 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 bis wealth and cafe,

A ftubborn will to please,

Duc ad me, duc ad me, duc ad me ;

Here shall be fee

Gross fools as be,

An if be will come to me.

Ami. What's that duc ad me ?

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

Ami. And I'll go seek the Duke: his banquet is prepar'd.

[Exeunt.

SCENE VI. Enter Orlando and Adam. Adam. Dear master, I can go no further; O, I die for food! here lye I down, and measure out my grave. Farewel, kind mafter.

Orla. Why, how now, Adam! no greater heart in thee?

live a little, comfort a little, cheer thy felf 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 fake be comfortable, hold death a while at the arm's end : I will be here with thee presently, and if I bring thee not something to eat, 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'ft cheerly. And I'll be with thee quickly; yet thou lyest 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 desart. Cheerly, good Adam.

SCENE VII.

Enter Duke Sen. and Lords.

[Exeunt.

[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.
1 Lord. My Lord, he is but even now gone hence,
Here was he merry, hearing of a fong.
Duke Sen. If he, compact of jars, grow musical,
We shall have shortly difcord 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.
Duke Sen. Why how now, Monfieur, 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'th' foreft,
A motley fool, a miferable varlet,
As I do live by food, I met a fool,
Who laid him down and bask'd him in the sun,
And rail'd on lady fortune in good terms,

In good fet terms, and yet a motley fool.

Good morrow, fool, quoth I: No, Sir, quoth he,
Call me not fool, 'till heaven hath fent me fortune;

And then he drew a dial from his poak,

And looking on it with lack-lustre eye,

Says, very wisely, it is ten a clock:

Thus may we fee, quoth he, how the world wags:

'Tis but an hour ago fince it was nine,

And after one hour more 'twill be eleven;

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And

And fo 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 fo deep contemplative:
And I did laugh sans intermiffion,
An hour by his dial. noble fool,
A worthy fool! motley's the only wear.
Duke Sen. What fool is this?

Jaq. O worthy fool! one that hath been a courtier,

And fays, 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 cram'd
With observation, the which he vents
In mangled forms. O that I were a fool!
I am ambitious for a motley coat.

Duke Sen. Thou shalt have one.
Jaq. It is my only fuit;

Provided that you weed your better judgments
Of all opinion that grows rank in them,
That I am wife. I must have liberty
Withal, as large a charter as the wind,
To blow on whom I please, for fo fools have;
And they that are most gauled with my folly,
They most must laugh: and why, Sir, must they so?
The why is plain, as way to parish church;
He, whom a fool doth very wisely hit,
Doth very foolishly, although he smart,
Not to feem senseless of the bob. If not,
The wife man's folly is anatomiz'd
Even by the squand'ring glances of a fool.
Invest me in my motley, give me leave

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 wouldst do. Jaq. What, for a counter, would I do but good?

:

Duke Sen, Most mischievous foul fin, in chiding fin:

For

For thou thy felf haft been a libertine,
As sensual as the brutish sting it felf;
And all the embossed fores and headed evils,
That thou with license of free foot haft caught,
Would'st 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 very means do ebb?
What woman in the city do I name,
When that I say the city-woman bears
The coft 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 coft
Thinking that I mean him, but therein futes
His folly to the mettle of my speech ?
There then: how then? let me then fee wherein
My tongue hath wrong'd him; if it do him right,
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?
SCENE VIII.

Enter Orlando, with bis fwerd drawn.

Orla. Forbear, and eat no more.
Jaq. Why, I have eat none yet.

Orla. Nor shalt not, 'till neceffity be serv'd.
Jaq. Of what kind should this cock come?

Duke Sen. Art thou thus bolden'd, man, by thy distress ?

Or else a rude despiser of good manners,
That in civility thou seem'st so empty?

Orla. You touch'd my vein at first; the thorny point
Of bare distress hath ta'en from me the shew
Of smooth civility; yet am I in-land bred,
And know fome nurture: but forbear, I say:
He dies that touches any of this fruit,
'Till I and my affairs are answered.
Jag. If you will not

Be answered with reason, I must die.