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 cost 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 cost

(Thinking that I mean him) but therein suits His folly to the metal of my speech?

439

There then; How then? What then? Let me see 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?

Enter ORLANDO, with his Sword drawn.

Orla. Forbear, and eat no more.

Jaq. Why, I have eat none yet.

440

Orła. Nor shalt not, 'till necessity be serv'd.
Jaq. Of what kind should this cock come of?
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?

Orta

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 some nurture: But forbear, I say;
He dies, that touches any of this fruit,
'Till I and my affairs are answered.
Jaq. An you will not

Be answered with reason, I must die.

450

Duke Sen. What would you have? Your gentleness shall force,

More than your force move us to gentleness.
Orla. I almost die for food, and let me have it.

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

table.

Orla. Speak you so gently? Pardon me, I pray

you;

I thought, that all things had been savage here;
And therefore put I on the countenance

Of stern commandment: But whate'er you are,
That in this desert inaccessible,

460

Under the shade of melancholy boughs,

Lose 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 sat at any good man's feast ;

If ever from your eye-lids wip'd a tear,
And know what 'tis to pity, and be pitied;

Let gentleness my strong enforcement be:
In the which hope, I blush, and hide my sword.

E iij

470

Duke

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,

480

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.

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.

Jaq. All the world's a stage,

490

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

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;.
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,

510

519

Is second childishness, and mere oblivion;
Sans teeth, sans eyes, sans taste, sans every thing.

Re-enter ORLANDO, with ADAM.

Duke Sen. Welcome: Set down your venerable

burden,

And let him feed.

Orla. I thank you most for him.

Adam. So had you need,

I 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