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That thou with license of free foot hast caught, Would'st thou disgorge into the general world."
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 braveryl is not on my cost
(Thinking that I mean him,) but therein suits
His folly to the mettle of my speech?
There then; How, 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
Why then, my taxing like a wild goose flies,
Unclaim'd of any man.-But who comes here?
Enter Orlando, with his sword drawn.
Orl. Forbear, and eat no more.
Why, I have eat none yet.
Ori. Nor shalt not, till necessity be serv'd.
Jag. Of what kind should this cock come of:
Duke S. Art thou thus bolden'd, man, by thy
Or else a rude despiser of good manners,
That in civility thou seem'st so empty?
Orl. You touch'd my vein at first; the thorny
Of bare distress hath ta'en from me the show
Of smooth civility : yet am I inland bred, 2
And know some nurture :3 But forbear, I say;
He dies, that touches any of this fruit,
Till I and my affairs are answered.
(1) Finery. (2) Well brought up.
(3) Good manners.
Jaq. An you will not be answered with reason, I must die. Duke S. What would you have? Your gentle
ness shall force,
Mort than your force move us to gentleness.
Orl. I almost die for food, and let me have it.
Duke S. Sit down and feed, welcome to our
Orl. 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,
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 knollid 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.
Duke S. 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.
Orl. 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 S.
Go find him out, And we will nothing waste till you return. Orl. I thank ye; and be bless'd for your good comfort!
Duke S. Thou seest, we are not all alone un
This wide and universal theatre
Presents more woful pageants than the scene
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 shining morning face, creeping like snail
Unwillingly to school : And then, the lover;
Sighing like furnace, with a woful ballad
Made to his mistress' eye-brow : Then, a soldier;
Full of strange oaths, and bearded like the pard,
Jealous in honour, suddenl and quick in quarrel,
Seeking the bubble reputation
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 modern2 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 sayirl, 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.
Duke S. Welcome : set down your venerable
burden, And let him feed.
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 A, yet, to question you about your fortunes :Visa us some music; and, good cousin, sing.
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.
Heigh, ho ! sing, heigh, ho! unto the green holly:
Most friendship is feigning, most loving mere
Then, heigh, ho, the holly!
This life is most jolly:
Freeze, freeze, thou bitter sky,
That dost not bite sc nigh,
As benefits forgot :
T'hough thou the waters warp,
Thy sting is not so sharp
As friend remember'd2 not.
Heigh, ho sing, heigh, ho! &c.
Duke S. If that you were the good sir Row-
land'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 : Iarn the duke, That lov'd your father: The residue of your fortune,
(1) Unnatural. (2) Remembering.
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. (Exe.
ACT III. SCENE I.-A room in the palace. Enter Duke
Frederick, Oliver, Lords, and attendants. Duke F. Not see him since? Sir, sir, that can
not 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 Make an extent upon his house and lands : Do this expediently,2 and turn him going. [Exe. 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, survey With thy chaste eye, from thy pale sphere above,
Thy huntress' name, that my full life doth sway. (1) Seize by legal process. (2) Expeditiously