156

160

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 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 everything.

Enter Orlando, with Adam.

164

Duke S. Welcome. Set down your venerable bur

den, And let him feed. Orl.

I thank you most for him. 168 Adam. So had

you

need: I scarce can speak to thank you for myself.

Duke S. Welcome; fall to: I will not trouble you As yet, to question you about your fortunes. 172 Give us some music; and, good cousin, sing.

Song.
Ami. 'Blow, blow, thou winter wind,

Thou art not so unkind
As man's ingratitude;

176
Thy tooth is not so keen,
Because thou art not seen,

Although thy breath be rude. 156 saws: maxims modern instances: commonplace illustrations 158 pantaloon: an enfeebled old man; cf. n. 163 his: its 165 mere: total 167 venerable burden; cf. n.

Heigh-ho! sing, heigh-ho! unto the green holly: 180 Most friendship is feigning, most loving mere folly.

Then heigh-ho! the holly!

This life is most jolly.
Freeze, freeze, thou bitter sky,

184 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! unto the green holly:
Most friendship is feigning, most loving mere folly.

Then heigh-ho! the holly!

This life is most jolly.'

188

192

196

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 lov’d your father: the residue of your

fortune Go to my cave and tell me.

Good old man,

200 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. 187 warp: i.e., by freezing or ruffling them 195 faithfully: assuringly

ACT THIRD

Scene One

[A Room in the Palace]

4

8

Enter Duke [Frederick], Lords, and Oliver. Duke F. Not seen 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.

Oli. O that your highness knew my heart in this ! I never lov'd my brother in

my

life. Duke F. More villain thou. Well, push him out of

doors; And let my officers of such a nature

16 Make an extent upon his house and lands. Do this expediently and turn him going. Exeunt.

12

Scene Two

8

[The Forest of Arden]

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

full life doth sway. 4 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 everywhere. Run, run, Orlando: carve on every tree The fair, the chaste, and unexpressive she. Exit.

Enter Corin and Touchstone. 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 17 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

12

23

wants money, means, and content, is without three good friends; that the property of rain is to wet, and fire to burn; that good pasture 28 makes fat 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 complain of good breeding, or comes of a very dull kindred.

38 Touch. Such a one is a natural philosopher. Wast ever in court, shepherd? Cor. No, truly.

36 Touch. Then thou art damned. Cor. Nay, I hope.

Touch. Truly, thou art damned, like an illroasted egg, all on one side.

40 Cor. For not being at court? Your reason.

Touch. Why, if thou never wast at court, thou never sawest good manners; if thou never sawest good manners, then thy manners must be wicked; and wickedness is sin, and sin is damnation. Thou art in a parlous state, shepherd.

46 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.

53