Duke Sen. True is it, that we have seen better days;

And have with holy bell been knoll'd to church;
And sat at good men's feasts; and wip'd our eyes
Of drops that sacred pity hath engender'd:
And therefore sit you down in gentleness,
And take upon command what help we have
That to your wanting may be ministred.
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 first suffic'd, -
Oppress'd with two weak evils, age, and hunger,-
I will not touch a bit.

Duke Sen. Go find him out,

And we will nothing waste 'till you return.

480

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

comfort!

[Exit.

Duke Sen. Thou seest, we are not all alone un

happy:

This wide and universal theatre
Presents more woeful pageants than the scene
Wherein we play in.

490

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

F

And shining morning face, creeping like snail
Unwillingly to school: And then, the lover;
Sighing like furnace, with a woeful ballad
Made to his mistress' eye-brow: Then, a soldier;
Full of strange oaths, and bearded like the pard,
Jealous in honour, sudden and quick in quarrel,

Seeking the bubble reputation

500

Even in the cannon's mouth: And then, the justice;
In fair round belly, with good capon lin'd,
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;.

510

With spectacles on nose, and pouch on side;
His youthful hose well sav'd, 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 every thing.

Re-enter ORLANDO, with ADAM.

519

Duke Sen. Welcome: Set down your venerable

burden,

And let him feed.

Orla. I thank you most for him.

Adam. So had you need,

Į scarce can speak to thank you for myself.

Duke Sen. Welcome, fall to: I will not trouble you

As

As yet, to question you about your fortunes :-
Give us some musick; and, good cousin, sing.

AMIENS sings.

SONG.

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.

530

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.

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, &c.

540

Duke Sen. 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 Be

550

Be truly welcome hither; I am the duke,
That lov'd 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.

The Palace. Enter DUKE, Lords, and OLIVER.

Duke.

Nor 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,
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.

10

Oli. Oh, that your highness knew my heart in

this:

I never lov'd my brother in my life.

Duke.

Duke. 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, and turn him going.

[Exeunt.

SCENE II.

The Forest. Enter ORLANDO.

Orla. 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,

19

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

Enter CORIN, and Clown.

[Exit.

Cor. And how like you this shepherd's life, master Touchstone?

30

Clo. 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 repect that it is solitary, I like it