He, that a fool doth very wifely hit,
Doth very foolishly, although he smart,
Not to seem fenfelefs of the bob: if not,
The wife man's folly is anatomiz'd

'Even by the fquandring glances of the fool.
Invest me in my motley; give me leave

To fpeak 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 would'ft do, J42 What, for a counter, would I do, but good? DUKE S. Moft mischievous foul fin, in chiding fin; For thou thyfelf haft been a libertine, .

As fenfual as the brutish fting itself;

And all the embossed fores, and headed evils,
That thou with licence of free foot haft caught,
Wouldst thou difgorge into the general world.
J42. 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 fay, The city-woman bears
The coft of princes on unworthy fhoulders?
Who can come in, and fay, that I mean her,
When fuch a one as fhe, fuch is her neighbour?
Or what is he of bafeft function,

That fays, his bravery is not on my cost,

(Thinking that I mean him,) but therein fuits

His folly to the mettle of my fpeech?

There then; How, what then? Let me fee 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 goofe flies,
Unclaim'd of any man.-But who comes here?
Enter ORLANDO, with his fword drawn.

ORL. Forbear, and eat no more.

F42. Why, I have eat none yet.

ORL. Nor fhalt not, till neceffity be serv'd.

742. Of what kind should this cock come of?

DUKE S. Art thou thus bolden'd, man, by thy distress; Or elfe a rude defpifer of good manners,

That in civility thou feem'ft fo empty?

ORL. You touch'd my vein at firft; the thorny point Of bare distress hath ta'en from me the show Of smooth civility: yet am I inland bred, And know some nurture: But forbear, I fay; He dies, that touches any of this fruit,

Till I and my affairs are answered.

F42. An you will not be answered with reafon, I muft die.

[force, DUKE S. What would you have? Your gentleness shall More than your force move us to gentleness.

ORL. I almost die for food, and let me have it.
DUKE S. Sit down and feed, and welcome to our table,
ORL. Speak you so gently? Pardon me, I pray you;
I thought, that all things had been favage here;
And therefore put I on the countenance

Of ftern commandment: But whate'er you are,
That in this defert inacceffible,

Under the fhade of melancholy boughs,

Lose and neglect the creeping hours of time;

If ever you have look'd on better days;

It ever been where bells have knoll'd to church;

If ever fat at any good man's feaft;

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 fword.
DUKE S. True is it that we have seen better days;
And have with holy bell been knoll'd to church;
And fat at good men's feafts; and wip'd our eyes
Of drops that facred pity hath engender'd:
And therefore fit 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 firft fuffic'd
Opprefs'd with two weak evils, age and hunger,
I will not touch a bit.

DUKE S. Go find him out,

And we will nothing wafte till you return.

ORL. I thank ye; and be blefs'd for your good com

fort!

[Exit.

DUKE S. Thou feeft, we are not all alone unhappy :

This wide and univerfal theatre

Presents more woeful pageants than the scene
Wherein we play in.

F42. 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 then, the whining school-boy, with his satchel,
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 foldier;
Full of strange oaths, and bearded like the pard,
Jealous in honour, fudden 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 fevere, and beard of formal cut,
Full of wife faws and modern inftances,
And fo he plays his part: The fixth age fhifts
Into the lean and flipper'd pantaloon ;
With fpectacles on nofe, and pouch on fide;
His youthful hofe well fav'd, a world too wide
For his fhrunk fhank; and his big manly voice,
Turning again toward childish treble, pipes
And whistles in his found: Laft fcene of all,
That ends this strange eventful history,

Is fecond childishness, and mere oblivion;
Sans teeth, fans eyes, fans tafte, fans every thing,
Re-enter ORLANDO, with ADAM.

DUKE S. Welcome: Set down your venerable burden, And let him feed.

ORL. I thank you most for him.

ADAM. So had you need;

I fcarce 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 :-
Give us fome mufick; and, good coufin, fing.

AMIENS fings.

SONG,

I.

Blow, blow, thou winter wind

As

Thou art not fo unkind
As man's ingratitude ;
Thy tooth is not so keen,
Because thou art not seen,

Although thy breath be rude.

Heigh, bo! fing, heigh, bo! unto the green holly:
Moft friendship is feigning, most loving mere folly:
Then, heigh, bo, the holly!

This life is moft jolly.

II.

Freeze, freeze, thou bitter sky,
That doft not bite fo nigh
As benefits forgot:
Though thou the waters warp,
Thy fting is not fo sharp

As friend remember'd not.

Heigh, bo! fing, heigh, ho! &c.

DUKE S. If that you were the good Sir Rowland's fon,

you have whisper'd faithfully, you were ;

And as mine eye doth his effigies witness

Moft truly limn'd, and living in your face,-
Be truly welcome hither: I am the duke,

That lov'd your father: The refidue of your fortune,
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,

ACT III.

SCENE I. A Room in the Palace.

[Exeunt.

Enter Duke FREDERICK, OLIVER, Lords, and Attendants,

DUKE F. Not fee him fince? Sir, fir, that cannot be :