Can in this desert place buy entertainment,
Bring us where we may rest ourselves, and feed :
Here's a young maid with travel much oppress’d,
And faints for succour.

Fair sir, I pity her.
And wish for her sake, more than for my own,
My fortunes were more able to relieve her :
But I am shepherd to another man,
And do not sheer the fleeces that I graze;
My master is of churlish disposition,
And little reckse to find the way to heaven
By doing deeds of hospitality :
Besides, his cote, his flocks, and bounds of feed,
Are now on sale, and at our sheepcote now,
By reason of his absence, there is nothing

will feed on; but what is, come see, And in my voicef most welcome shall you be.

Ros. What is he that shall buy his flock and pasture ?

Cor. That young swain that you saw here but erewhile, That little cares for buying any thing.

Ros. I pray thee, if it stand with honesty, Buy thou the cottage, pasture, and the flock, And thou shalt have to pay for it of us.

Cel. And we will mend thy wages : I like this place, And willingly could waste my time in it.

Cor. Assuredly, the thing is to be sold : Go with me;

if you like, upon report,
The soil, the profit, and this kind of life,
I will your very faithful feeder be,
And buy it with your gold right suddenly: [Exeunt.

recks ] i. e. Heeds.
my voicem] i. e. My vote or good-will,



The same.

Enter AMIENS, JAQUES, and others.

Ami. Under the greenwood tree,

Who loves to lie with me,
And turns his

merry note
Unto the sweet bird's throat,
Come hither, come hither, come hither;

Here shall he see

No enemy,

But winter and rough weather. Jaq. More, more, I pr’ythee, more. Ami. It will make you melancholy, monsieur Jaques.

Jaq. I thank it. More, I pr’ythee, more. I can suck melancholy out of a song, as a weazel sucks eggs : More, I pr’ythee more.

Ami. My voice is ragged;" I know, I cannot please you.

Jaq. I do not desire you to please me, I do desire you to sing ; Come, more ; another stanza; Call you them stanzas ?

Ami. What you will, monsieur Jaques.

Jaq. Nay, I care not for their names; they owe me nothing : Will you sing?

Ami. More at your request, than to please myself.

Jaq. 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. Ami. 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.

turn-] i. e. Modulate, altered by Pope to tune.
ragged;] i. e. Broken, unequal.


Jaq. 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.


Who doth ambition shun, [All together here.
And loves to live i'the sun,j
Seeking the fool he eats,

And pleas'd with what he gets,
Come hither, come hither, come hither;

Here shall he see

No enemy,

But winter and rough weather. Jaq. I'll give you a verse to this note, that I made yesterday in despite of my invention.

Ami. And I'll sing it.
Jaq. Thus it goes :

If it do come to pass,
That any man turn ass,
Leaving his wealth and ease,

A stubborn will to please,
Ducdàme, ducdàme, ducdàme ;k

Here shalt he see,

Gross fools as he,

An if he will come to me. Ami. What's that ducdàme?

Jaq. '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.

Ami. And I'll go seek the duke; his banquet is prepar'd.

[Exeunt severally.

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disputable]—for disputations.

to live i'the sun.] i. e. In the clear open light of day, and not confined to those close apartments of cities in which the aims of ambition are pursued.

ducdàme';] For ducdàme, Sir Thomas Hanmer, reads duc ad me, i. e. bring him to me—but the alteration is not required. It appears from a stanza, which Dr. Farmer heard an old gentleman sing, that duck dame was the burthen of an old rural ditty. In the last line of this song I have followed the original folio; Johnson and Steevens read “come to Ami” for “ come to me.”


The same.


Adam. Dear master, I can go no further : 0, I die for food! Here lie I down, and measure out my grave. Farewell, kind master.

Orl. 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, I will 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'll give thee leave to die: but if thou diest before I come, thou art a mocker of my labour. Well said ! thou look'st cheerily : 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 !


The same.

A table set out. Enter Duke senior, Amiens, Lords,

and others. Duke S. I think he be transform'd into a beast; For I can no where find him like a man.

1 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,' grow musical, We shall have shortly discord in the spheres :Go, seek him; tell him, I would speak with him.

Enter JAQUES. 1 Lord. He saves my labour by his own approach. Duke S. Why, how now, monsieur! what a life is this,

compact of jars,] i. e. Made up of discords.

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