Duke. (c.) Thou see'st, we are not all alone unhappy :

This wide and universal theatre

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

Jaques. (L. c) 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 soldier
Full of strange oaths, and bearded like the bard,
Jealous in honour, sudden 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 lined,
With eyes severe, and beard of formal cut,
Full of wise saws and modern 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 saved, 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
[All retire to table

Enter ORLANDO and ADAM, L.

Duke. Welcome: set down your venerable burden, And let him feed.

Orl. I thank you most for him.

Adam. So had you need:

I scarce can speak to thank you for myself.

Duke. Welcome, fall to: I will not trouble you As yet, to question you about your fortunes:~ Give us some music; and, good cousin, sing.

[AMIENS advances, e.

SONG.-AMIENS.

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.

Freeze, freeze, thou bitter sky,
That dost not bite so nigh
As benefits forgot;
Though thou the waters warp,
Thy sting is not so sharp

As friend remember'd not

Duke. [Comes forward.] If that you were the good
Sir Rowland'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; I am the duke,

That loved your father: the residue 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.

[Exeunt, L.

ACT III.

SCENE I.-The Palace.

Enter DUKE FREDERICK, EUSTACE, LOUIS, OLIVER, and GENTLEMEN, L.

Fred. (R.) Not see him since? Sir, sir, that cannot 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 ;

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.

Oliv. (L.) Oh, that your Highness knew my heart in this!

I never loved my brother in my life.

Fred. 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, and turn him going.

[Exeunt--FREDERICK, R., Others, L.

SCENE II.-The Forest.

Enter ORLANDO, with a paper, L. U. E.

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.
O Rosalind! these trees shall be my books,
And on their barks my thoughts I'll character;
That every eye, which in this forest looks,
Shall see thy virtue witness'd every where.

Run, run, Orlando ; carve on every tree,
The fair, the chaste, and unexpressive she.

Enter CORIN and TOUCHSTONE, R.

[Exit, R.

Corin. (R.) And how like you this shepherd's life, Master Touchstone?

Touch. (L. c.) Truly, shepherd, in respect of itself, it is a good life; but in respect that it is a shepherd's life, it is naught. In respect that it is solitary, I like it very well; but in respect that it is private, it is a very vile life. Now in respect it is in the fields, it pleaseth me well; but in respect it is not in the court, it is tedious. As it is a spare life, look you, it fits my humour well; but as there is no more plenty in it, it goes much against my stomach. Hast any philosophy in thee, shepherd?

Corin. No more, but that I know, the more one sickens, the worse at ease he is; and that he, that wants money, means, and content, is without three good friends:That the property of rain is to wet, and fire to burn: That good pasture makes fat sheep; and that a great cause of the night, is the lack of the sun: That he, that hath learned no wit by nature nor art, may complain of good breeding, or comes of a very dull kindred.

Touch. Such a one is a natural philosopher. Wast ever in court, shepherd?

Corin. No, truly.

Touch. Then thou art damned.

Corin. Nay, I hope

Touch. Truly, thou art dainned; like an ill-roasted egg, all on one side.

Corin. For not being at court? Your reason.

Touch. Why, if thou never wast at court, thou never saw'st good manners: if thou never saw'st good manners, then thy manners must be wicked; and wickedness is sin, and sin is damnation: Thou art in a parlous state, shepherd.

Corin. Not pasd whit, Touchstone: I am a true labourer 41 earn that I eat, get that I wear; owe no man hate, envy, no man's happiness; glad of other men's good, content with my harm; and the greatest of my pride is, to see my owes graze, and my lambs suck.

Touch. That is another simple sin in you to bring the ewes and rams together, and to offer to get your

living by the copulation of cattle; to be bawd to a bell weather; and to betray a she lamb of a twelvemonth to a crooked-pated, old, cuckoldly ram, out of all reasonable match. If thou be'st not damned for this, the devil himself will have no shepherds; I cannot see else how thou should'st 'scape.

Corin. Here comes young Mr. Ganymede, my new mistress's brother. [Retire, L. Enter ROSALIND, L. U. E., taking a paper from a tree, and reading.

From the east to the western Inde,

No jewel is like Rosalind.

[TOUCHSTONE advances, R.

Her worth, being mounted on the wind,
Through all the world bears Rosalind.
All the pictures, fairest limn'd,

Are but black to Rosalind.

Let no face be kept in mind,

But the face of Rosalind.

Touch. [Crosses to L.] I'll rhyme you so, eight years together; dinners, and suppers, and sleeping hours excepted: it is the right butter-woman's rate to market. Ros. (R.) Out, fool! Touch. For a taste:

If a hart do lack a hind,
Let him seek out Rosalind.
If the cat will after kind,
So, be sure, will Rosalind

Sweetest nut hath sourest rind;

Such a nut is Rosalind.

They that reap, must sheaf and bind;

Then to cart with Rosalind.

This is the very false gallop of verses: Why do you infect yourself with them?

Ros. Peace, you dull fool; I found them on a tree. Touch. Truly, the tree yields bad fruit.

[TOUCHSTONE retires, R.

Enter CELIA, with a Writing, L.

Ros. Peace!

Here comes my sister, reading! stand aside.

[Retires, R.