in the bleak air. Come, I will bear thee to some shelter; and thou shalt not die for lack of a dinner, if there live anything in this desert. Cheerly, good Adam!

SCENE VII. The Forest.

[Exeunt.

A table set out. Enter DUKE Senior, AMIENS, and Lords like outlaws.

Duke S. I think he be transform'd into a beast;

For I can nowhere find him like a man.

First Lord. My lord, he is but even now gone hence;

Here was he merry, hearing of a song.

Duke S. If he, compact of jars,1 grow musical,

We shall have shortly discord in the spheres.2
Go, seek him; tell him I would speak with him.

Enter JAQUES.

First Lord. He saves my labor by his own approach. Duke S. Why, how now, monsieur ! what a life is this, That your poor friends must woo your company?

What, you look merrily!

Jaques. A fool, a fool! I met a fool i' the forest, A motley 3 fool! -A miserable world!

As I do live by food, I met a fool,

Who laid him down and bask'd him in the sun,
And rail'd on Lady Fortune in good terms,

In good set terms, and yet a motley fool.

"Good morrow, fool," quoth I. "No, sir," quoth he,

66 Call me not fool till Heaven hath sent me fortune." And then he drew a dial from his poke,4

1 "Compact of jars,” i.e., made up of discords.

2 The doctrine of Pythagoras that the heavenly bodies in their motion produce harmonious sounds, is frequently referred to by Shakespeare.

3 Party-colored. The dress of the professional fool, who had a place in very large household, was patched with various colors."

Pocket.

And, looking on it with lackluster eye,

Says very wisely, "It is ten o'clock.

Thus we may see," quoth he, "how the world wags;
'Tis but an hour ago since it was nine,

And after one hour more 'twill be eleven;
And so, from hour to hour, we ripe and ripe,
And then, from hour to hour, we rot and rot;
And thereby hangs a tale." When I did hear
The motley fool thus moral1 on the time,
My lungs began to crow like chanticleer,
That fools should be so deep-contemplative,
And I did laugh sans 2 intermission

An hour by his dial. O noble fool!
O worthy fool! Motley's the only wear.3
Duke S. What fool is this?

Jaques. A worthy fool!

One that hath been a courtier,

And says, 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 biscuit

After a voyage, he hath strange places cramm'd
With observation, the which he vents

In mangled forms. O that I were a fool!
I am ambitious for a motley coat.

It is my only suit,4

Duke S. Thou shalt have one.
Jaques.
Provided that you weed your better judgments
Of all opinion that grows rank in them
That I am wise. I must have liberty
Withal, as large a charter as the wind,

To blow on whom I please; for so fools have;
And they that are most galled with my folly,

They most must laugh. And why, sir, must they so?

1 Moralize.

3"

2 A French word meaning "without." Motley's the only wear," i.e., there is no dress like the fool's. 4 A play upon the word is doubtless intended.

The "why" is plain as way to parish church:
He that a fool doth very wisely hit,

Doth very foolishly, although he smart,

But to seem senseless of the bob;1 if not,
The wise man's folly is anatomiz'd

Even by the squandering glances 2 of the fool.

Invest me in my motley; give me leave

To speak my mind, and I will through and through
Cleanse the foul body of the infected world,

If they will patiently receive my medicine.

Duke S. Fie on thee! I can tell what thou wouldst do
Jaques. What, for a counter,3 would I do but good?
Duke S. Most mischievous foul sin, in chiding sin;

For thou thyself hast been a libertine,

As sensual as the brutish sting itself;

And all the embossed sores and headed evils,
That thou with license of free foot hast caught,
Wouldst thou disgorge into the general world.
Jaques. 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 wearer's 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 neighbor?
Or what is he of basest function,5

That says his bravery is not on my cost,

6

Thinking that I mean him, but therein suits

1 Blow.

2 44 Squandering glances," i.e., gibes scattered without special aim. 3 "For a counter," i.e., on the wager of a counter.

worthless coin, used only for calculations.

The counter was a

6"His bravery," etc., i.e., his fine clothes are not at my expense.

His folly to the mettle of my speech?

Let me see wherein

There then; how then ? what then ?
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.

Orlando. Forbear, and eat no more.

Jaques.

Why, I have eat none yet.

Orlando. Nor shalt not, till necessity be serv'd.

Jaques. Of what kind should this cock come of ? 1
Duke S. 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?

Orlando. You touch'd my vein at first; the thorny point
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.

Jaques. An you will not be answered with reason, I must die.

Duke S. What would you have? Your gentleness shall

force

More than your force move us to gentleness.

Orlando. I almost die for food; and let me have it.

Duke S. Sit down and feed, and welcome to our table.
Orlando. 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

1 This repeating of the preposition is often met with in Shakespeare.
2 "Inland bred," i.e., not a rustic brought up on the frontier.
3 Good breeding.

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 knoll'd to church,
If ever sat at any good man's feast,

If ever from your eyelids 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 minister'd.

Orlando. 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,1 age and hunger,—
I will not touch a bit.

And we will nothing waste till you return.

Orlando. I thank ye; and be blest for your good comfort!

Duke S. Thou seest we are not all alone unhappy.

This wide and universal theater

Presents more woful pageants than the scene

Wherein we play in.

Jaques.

All the world's a stage,

And all the men and women merely players.

1 "Weak evils," i.e., evils causing weakness.

[Exit