As fenfual as the bruitifh fting itself;

Bnd all the emboffed fores and headed evils,
That thou with licence of free foot hast caught,
Wouldft thou difgorge 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 fay, the city-woman bears
The cost of Princes on unworthy shoulders?
Who can come in, and fay, that I mean her;
When such a one as fhe, fuch is her neighbour?
Or what is he of baseft function,

That:fays, his bravery is not on my coft;
Thinking, that I mean him; but therein fuits

His folly to the metal of my speech?

There then; how then? what then? let me 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
Unclaimed of any man. But who comes here?

Enter ORLANDO, with his fword drawn.

Orla. Forbear and eat no more.

Jaq. Why, I have eat none yet,

Orla. Nor fhalt thou, 'till neceffity be ferv'd.

Faq. Of what kind fhould this cock come of?

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

Or elfe a rude defpifer of good manners,

That in civility thou feem'ft fo empty?

Orla. You touch'd my vein at firft; the thorny point Of bare distress has ta'en from me the fhew

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 anfwered.

Jaq. If you will not

Be anfwered with reafon, I muft die.

Duke Sen. What would you have? Your gentleness fhall

force,

More than your force move us to gentlenefs.

Orla. I almost die for food, and let me have it.

Duke Sen. Sit down and feed, and welcome to our table.

Orla

Orla. Speak you fo gently? pardon me, I pray you;
I thought that all things had been favage here;
And therefore put I on the countenance

Of ftern commandment. But whate'er you are,
That in this defert inacceffible,

Under the fhade of melancholy boughs,

Lofe and neglect the creeping hours of time;
If ever you have look'd on better days;
If ever been where bells have knoll'd to church;
If ever fat at any good man's feaft;
If ever from your eyelids wip'd a tear,
And know what 'tis to pity, and be pitied;
Let gentleness my ftrong enforcement be,
In the which hope I blufh, and hide my fword.

Duke Sen. True is it, that we have feen better days;
And have with holy bell been knoll'd to church;
And fate at good men's feafts, and wip'd our eyes
Of drops, that facred pity hath engender'd;
And therefore fit you down in gentleness,
And take upon command what help we have,
That to your wanting may be ministered.

Orla. 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 firft fuffic'd,
Opprefs'd with two weak evils, age and hunger,
I will not touch a bit.

Duke Sen. Go find him out,

And we will nothing wafte till you return.

Orla. I thank ye; and be blefs'd for your good com

fort!

[Exit.

Duke Sen. Thou feeft, we are not all alone unhappy:

This wide and universal Theatre

Prefents more woeful 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 his time plays many parts:
His acts being seven ages. At firft the infant,
Mewling and puking in the nurfe's arms;

And

And then, the whining school-boy, with his fatchel,
And fhining morning-face, creeping like fnail,
Unwillingly to school. And then, the lover;
Sighing like furnace, with a woeful ballad
Made to his mistress' eye-brow. Then, a foldier:
Full of strange oaths, and bearded like the pard,
Jealous in honour, fudden 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 lin❜d,

With eyes fevere, and beard of formal cut,
Full of wife faws and modern inftances,
And fo he plays his part. The fixth age fhifts
Into the lean and flipper'd pantaloon,

With spectacles on nofe, and pouch on fide;
His youthful hofe well fav'd, a world too wide
For his fhrunk fhank; and his big manly voice,
Turning again toward childish treble, pipes,
And whistles in his found. Laft fcene of all,
That ends this strange eventful history,
Is fecond childishness, and mere oblivion,
Sans teeth, fans eyes, fans tafte, fans every thing.

Enter ORLANDO, with ADAM.

Duke Sen. Welcome: fet down your venerable burden, And let him feed.

Orla. I thank you most for him.

Adam. So had you need,

I fcarce can speak to thank you for myself.

Duke Sen. Welcome, fall to: I will not trouble you, As yet to question you about your fortunes.

Give us fome mufic; and good coufin, fing.

SONG.

Ami. Blow, blow, thou winter wind,

Thou art not fo unkind
As man's ingratitude;
Thy tooth is not fo keen,
Because thou art not feen,
Altho' thy breath be rude.

Heigh

Heigh ho! fing, heigh ho! unto the green holly;
Moft friendship is feigning; most loving mere folly:
Then heigh ho, the holly!

This life is moft jolly.

Freeze, freeze, thou bitter fky,
Thou doft not bite fo nigh
As benefits forgot:

Tho' thou the waters warp,
Thy fting is not fo Sharp

As friend remembered not.

Heigh ho! fing, &c.

Duke Sen. If that you were the good Sir Rowland's fon,
As you have whisper'd faithfully you were,
And as mine eye doth his effigies witness,
Moft truly limm'd, and living in your face,
Be truly welcome hither. I am the Duke,

That lov'd your father: The refidue 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, the PALACE.

Enter DUKE, Lords, and OLIVER.

DUKE.

NOT fee him fince? 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 prefent: but look to it;
Find out thy brother, wherefoe'er he is ;

Seek him with candle: bring him dead or living,
Within this twelvemonth; or turn thou no more.
To feek a living in our territory.

Thy

Thy lands and all things that thou doft call thine,
Worth feifure, do we feize into our hands;
'Till thou canft quit thee by thy brother's mouth,
Of what we think against thee,

Oli. Oh, that your Highness knew my heart in this: I never lov'd my brother in

my life.

Duke. More villain thou. Well, push him out of doors; And let my officers of fuch a nature

Make an extent upon his house and lands:

Do this expediently, and turn him going.

[Exeunt.

SCENE changes to the FOREST.

Enter ORLANDO.

;

Orla. Hang there, my verse, in witnefs of my love;
And thou thrice-crowned Queen of night furvey,
With thy chafte eye, from thy pale sphere above,
Thy huntress' name that my full life doth sway.
Ó Rofalind! these trees fhall be my books,
And in their barks my thoughts I'll character
That every eye, which in this foreft looks,
Shall fee thy virtue witnefs'd every where.
Run, run, Orlando, carve, on every tree,
The fair, the chafte, and unexpreffive the !
Enter CORIN and CLOWN.

[Exit.

Cor. And how like you this fhepherd's life, Mr. TouchStone?

Clo. Truly, fhepherd, in respect of itself, it is a good life; but in refpect that it is a fhepherd's life, it is naught. In refpect that it is folatary, I like it very well: but in refpect that it is private, it is a very vile life. Now, in refpect it is in the fields, it pleafeth me well; but in refpect it is not in the Court, it is tedious. As it is a fpare life, look you, it its my humour well; but as there is no more plenty in it, it goes much against my ftomach. Haft any philofophy in thee, fhepherd?

Cor. No more, but that I know, the more one fickens, the worse at eafe he is: and that he, that wants money,