Here shall he see No enemy But winter and rough weather. JAQUES More, more, I prithee, more. AMIENS It will make you melancholy, Monsieur Jaques. JAQUES I thank it. More, I prithee, more. I can suck melancholy out of a song, as a weasel sucks eggs.
More, I prithee, more. AMIENS My voice is ragged: I know I cannot please you. JAQUES I do not desire you to please me; I do desire you to sing. Come, more; another stanzo: call you 'em stanzos? AMIENS What you will, Monsieur Jaques. JAQUES Nay, I care not for their names; they owe me nothing. Will you sing? AMIENS More at your request than to please myself. JAQUES Well then, if ever I thank any man, I'll thank you;but that they call compliment 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, sing; and you that will not, hold your tongues. AMIENS Well, I'll end the song. Sirs, cover the while; the duke will drink under this tree. He hath been all this day to look you. JAQUES And I have been all this day to avoid him. He is too disputable for my company: I think of as many matters as he, but I give heaven thanks and make no boast of them. Come, warble, come.
SONG.
Who doth ambition shun All together here And loves to live i' the sun, Seeking the food he eats And pleased with what he gets, Come hither, come hither, come hither:
Here shall he see No enemy But winter and rough weather. JAQUES I'll give you a verse to this note that I made yesterday in despite of my invention. AMIENS And I'll sing it. JAQUES Thus it goes:--If it do come to pass That any man turn ass, Leaving his wealth and ease, A stubborn will to please, Ducdame, ducdame, ducdame:
Here shall he see Gross fools as he, An if he will come to me. AMIENS What's that 'ducdame'? JAQUES 'Tis a Greek invocation, to call fools into a circle. I'll go sleep, if I can; if I cannot, I'll rail against all the first-born of Egypt. AMIENS And I'll go seek the duke: his banquet is prepared.
Exeunt severally SCENE VI. The forest. Enter ORLANDO and ADAM ADAM Dear master, I can go no further. O, Idie for food!
Here lie I down, and measure out my grave. Farewell, kind master. ORLANDO Why, how now, Adam! no greater heart in thee? Live a little; comfort a little; cheer thyself a little.
If this uncouth forest yield any thing savage, Iwill either be food for it or bring it for food to thee. Thy conceit is nearer death than thy powers.
For my sake be comfortable; hold death awhile at the arm's end: I will here be with thee presently;and if I bring thee not something to eat, I will give thee leave to die: but if thou diest before Icome, thou art a mocker of my labour. Well said!
thou lookest cheerly, and I'll be with thee quickly.
Yet thou liest 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 any thing in this desert. Cheerly, good Adam!
Exeunt SCENE VII. The forest. A table set out. Enter DUKE SENIOR, AMIENS, and Lords like outlaws DUKE SENIOR I think he be transform'd into a beast;For I can no where 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 SENIOR If he, compact of jars, grow musical, We shall have shortly discord in the spheres.
Go, seek him: tell him I would speak with him.
Enter JAQUES First Lord He saves my labour by his own approach. DUKE SENIOR 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 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, 'Call me not fool till heaven hath sent me fortune:'
And then he drew a dial from his poke, And, looking on it with lack-lustre 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 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 SENIOR 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 SENIOR 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 anatomized 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 SENIOR Fie on thee! I can tell what thou wouldst do. JAQUES What, for a counter, would I do but good? DUKE SENIOR Most mischievous foul sin, in chiding sin: