Thus may we 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 moral on the time,
My lungs began to crow like chanticleer,
That fools should be so deep-contemplative;
And I did laugh, sans intermission,
An hour by his dial.-O noble fool!

A worthy fool! Motley 's the only wear.

Duke S. What fool is this?

Jaques. O 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.

Duke S. Thou shalt have one.

Jaques.

It is my only suit;

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?

The why is plain as way to parish church.
He, that a fool doth very wisely hit,
Doth very foolishly, although he smart,
Not to seem senseless of the bob: if not,
The wise man's folly is anatomised

Even by the squandering glances 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, 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 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 neighbor?
Or what is he of basest function,

That says,

his bravery 1 is not on my cost,

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

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?

2

Enter ORLANDO, with his sword drawn.

Orl. Forbear, and eat no more.

Jaques.

Why, I have eat none yet.

Orl. Nor shalt not, till necessity be served.

Jaques. Of what kind should this cock come of? 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?

Orl. 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,3
And know some nurture.4 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,

Fine apparel.
3 Well brought up.

2 Satire.

4 Good manners.

I must die.

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

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 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 knoll'd to church;

If ever sat at any good man's feast ;

If ever from your eyelids wiped 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 wiped 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.

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 sufficed,—

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!

[Exit.

Duke S. Thou seest, we are not all alone un

happy:

This wide and universal theatre

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:
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:
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 woful ballad
Made to his mistress' eye-brow: then, a soldier;
Full of strange oaths, and bearded like the pard;
Jealous in honor, sudden 1 and quick in quarrel ;
Seeking the bubble reputation

1 Violent.