"We that are true lovers, run into ftrange capers; "but as all is mortal in nature, fo is all nature in love "mortal in folly." Rof. Thou fpeak'ft wifer, than thou art ware of. Clo. Nay, I fhall ne'er be ware of mine own wit, till I break my fhins against it. Rof. Jove Jove! this fhepherd's paffion is much upon my fashion. Clo. And mine; but it grows fomething stale with me. Cel. I pray you, one of you queftion yond man, If he for gold will give us any food; I faint almoft to death. Clo. Holla; you, clown! Rof. Peace, fool; he's not thy kinfman. Clo. Your betters, Sir. Cor. Elfe they are very wretched. Rof. Peace, I fay: Good even to you, friend. Cor. Fair Sir, I pity her, And with for her fake, more than for mine own, But I am fhepherd to another man, And do not sheer the fleeces that I grase; My mafter is of churlish difpofition, And little wreaks to find the way to heav'n By doing deeds of hofpitality: Befides, his cote, his flocks, and bounds of feed Are now on fale, and at our sheep-cote now, And in my voice moft welcome fhall you be. Rof. What is he that fhall buy his flock and pa fture? Cor. That young fwain that you faw here but ere while, That little cares for buying any thing. Rof. I pray thee, if it ftand with honefty, Buy thou the cottage, pafture, and the flock, And thou fhalt have to pay for it of us. Cel. And we will mend thy wages. I like this place, and willingly could wafte Cor. Affuredly, the thing is to be fold; [Exeunt. SCENE V. Changes to a defart part of the foreft. Enter Amiens, Jaques, and others. And tune his merry note, Unto the fweet bird's throat, Come hither, come hither, come hither: Here fhall he fee No enemy, But winter and rough weather. Jaq. More, more, I pr'ythee, more. Ami. It will make you melancholy, Monfieur Jaques. Jaq. I thank it; more, I pr'ythee, more; I can fuck melancholy out of a fong, as a weazel fucks eggs: more, I pr'ythee, more. Ami. My voice is rugged; I know I cannot please you. Jaq. “I do not desire you to please me, I do defire you to fing;" come, come, another ftanzo; call you 'em ftanzo's ? Ami. What you will, Monfieur Jaques. Jaq. Nay, I care not for their names, they owe me nothing.Will you fing? Ami. More at your requeft, than to please myself. Jaq. Well then, if ever I thank any man, I'll thank you; but that they call compliments, is like the encounter of two dog-apes. And when a man thanks me heartily, methinks I have given him a penny, and he renders me the beggarly thanks. Come, fing; and you that will not, hold your tongues. Ami. Well, I'll end the fong, Sirs; cover the while the Duke will dine under this tree; he hath been all this day to look you. Jaq. And I have been all this day to avoid him. He is too difputable for my company: I think of as many matters as he, but I give Heav'n thanks, and make no boaft of them. Come, warble, come. SONG. Who doth ambition fhun, And pleas'd with what he gets; Here fhall be fee No enemy But winter and rough weather. Jaq. I'll give you a verfe to this note, that I made ye fterday in defpight of my invention. Ami. And I'll fing it. Jaq. Thus it goes. If it do come to pass, That any man turn afs; Leaving his wealth and cafe A ftubborn will to pleafe, Duc ad me, duc ad me, duc ad mi`; Here fhall be fee Grofs fools as he, An if he will come to me. Ami. What's that Duc ad me? Jaq. 'Tis a Greek invocation, to call fools into a circle. I'll go to fleep if I can; if I cannot, I'll rail against all the firft-born of Egypt. Ami. And I'll go feek the Duke; his banquet is prepar❜d. [Exeunt, feverally. SCENE VI. Enter Orlando and Adam. Adam. Dear mafter, I can go no further; 0, I die VOL. II. X for food! here lie I down, and meafure out my grave. Farewel, kind master. Orla. Why, how now, Adam! no greater heart in thee? live a little; comfort a little; cheer thyself a little. If this uncouth foreft yield any thing favage, I will either be food for it, or bring it for food to thee: thy conceit is nearer death, than thy powers. For my fake be comfortable, hold death a while at the arm's end. I will be here with thee prefently; and if I bring thee, not fomething to eat, I'll give thee leave to die. But if thou-dieft before I come, thou art a mocker of my labour. Well faid, thou look'ft cheerly. And I'll be with thee quickly; yet thou lieft in the bleak air. Come, I will bear thee to fome fhelter, and thoù fhalt not die for lack of a dinner, if there live any thing in this defart. Cheerly, good Adam. [Exeunt. SCENE Enter Duke fen. and Lords. VII. [A table fet out. Duke fen. I think he is transform'd into a beast, For I can no where find him like a man. I Lord. My Lord, he is but even now gone hence. Here was he merry, hearing of a song. Duke fen. If he, compact of jars, grow mufical, 1 Lord. He faves my labour by his own approach. That your poor friends muft woo your company? Faq. A fool, a fool;- -I met a fool i' th' foreft, A motley fool; a miferable varlet ! As I do live by food, I met a fool, Who laid him down and bask'd him in the fun, In good fet terms, and yet a motley fool. Good morrow, fool, quoth I: No, Sir, quoth he, • And then he drew a dial from his poak, • And looking on it with lack-luftre eye, Says, very wifely, It is ten o'clock: Thus may we fee, quoth he, how the world wags = • 'Tis but an hour ago fince it was nine, 6 And after one hour more 'twill be cleven; And fo from hour to hour we ripe and ripe, Faq. "O worthy fool! one that hath been a courtier, "And fays, if ladies be but young and fair, They have the gift to know it: and in his brain, "Which is as dry as the remainder-bifket "After a voyage, he hath ftrange places cramm'd. "With obfervation, the which he vents "In mangled forins. O that I were a fool! Duke fen. Thou shalt have one, Provided that you weed your better judgments "To blow on whom I pleafe; for fo fools have; "They moft muft laugh. And why, Sir, muft they fo "The why is plain, as way to parish-church; "He whom a fool doth very wifely hit, "Doth very foolishly, although he fmart, "Not to feem fenfelefs of the bob. If not, "The wife man's folly is anatomiz'd "Ev'n by the fquand'ring glances of a fool. Inveft me in my motley, give me leave To fpeak my mind, and I will through and through Cleanfe the foul body of th' infested world, |