lined; Even in the cannon's mouth: and then, the justice; Is second childishness, and mere oblivion; Re-enter ORLANDO, with ADAM. Duke S. Welcome. burden, And let him feed. Orl. Set down your venerable I thank you most for him. 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.- 1 Trite, common. 2 In allusion to a character in the Italian comedy called Il Pantalone, who is a thin emaciated old man in slippers. Amiens sings. Heigh ho SONG. I. Blow, blow, thou winter wind. As man's ingratitude; Thy tooth is not so keen, Because thou art not seen, Although thy breath be rude. 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. II. 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 heigh ho! &c. Duke S. If that you were the good sir Rowland's son, As you have whisper'd faithfully, you were; That loved your father: the residue of your fortune, Remembering Go to my cave, and tell me.-Good old man, [Exeunt. ACT II I. SCENE I. A room in the palace. Enter DUKE FREDERICK, OLIVER, Lords, and At tendants. Duke F. Not 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; Thy lands, and all things that thou dost call thine, Cli. O, that your highness knew my heart in 1 Acquit thyself. I never loved my Duke F. More villain thou.-Well, push him out of doors; And let my officers of such a nature Make an extent 1 upon his house and lands. SCENE II. The forest. Enter ORLANDO, with a paper. Orl. Hang there, my verse, in witness of my love; And, thou, thrice-crowned queen of night,3 survey With thy chaste eye, from thy pale sphere above, 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, 4 The fair, the chaste, and unexpressive she. [Exit. Enter CORIN and TOUCHSTONE. Cor. And how like you this shepherd's life, master Touchstone? 3 Alluding to the triple appellation of Proserpine, Cynthia, and Diana. 4 Inexpressible. 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 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 humor 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 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 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. Touch. Such a one is a natural philosopher. Wast ever in court, shepherd? Cor. No, truly. Touch. Then thou art damned. Cor. Nay, I hope, Touch. Truly, thou art damned; like an ill-roasted egg, all on one side. Cor. For not being at court? Your reason. Touch. Why, if thou never wast at court, thou never saw'st good manners; if thou never saw'st good manners, then thy manners must be wicked; |