As You Like It

1 Enter Duke Senior, Amiens and Lords as outlaws.
2 DUKE SENIOR.
3 I think he be transformed into a beast,
4 For I can nowhere find him like a man.
5 FIRST LORD.
6 My lord, he is but even now gone hence;
7 Here was he merry, hearing of a song.
8 DUKE SENIOR.
9 If he, compact of jars, grow musical,
10 We shall have shortly discord in the spheres.
11 Go seek him, tell him I would speak with him.
12 Enter Jaques.
13 FIRST LORD.
14 He saves my labour by his own approach.
15 DUKE SENIOR.
16 Why, how now, monsieur? What a life is this
17 That your poor friends must woo your company?
18 What, you look merrily.
19 JAQUES.
20 A fool, a fool! I met a fool i’ th’ forest,
21 A motley fool. A miserable world!
22 As I do live by food, I met a fool,
23 Who laid him down and basked him in the sun,
24 And railed on Lady Fortune in good terms,
25 In good set terms, and yet a motley fool.
26 “Good morrow, fool,” quoth I. “No, sir,” quoth he,
27 “Call me not fool till heaven hath sent me fortune.”
28 And then he drew a dial from his poke,
29 And, looking on it with lack-lustre eye,
30 Says very wisely, “It is ten o’clock.
31 Thus we may see,” quoth he, “how the world wags.
32 ’Tis but an hour ago since it was nine,
33 And after one hour more ’twill be eleven.
34 And so from hour to hour we ripe and ripe,
35 And then from hour to hour we rot and rot,
36 And thereby hangs a tale.” When I did hear
37 The motley fool thus moral on the time,
38 My lungs began to crow like chanticleer,
39 That fools should be so deep-contemplative,
40 And I did laugh sans intermission
41 An hour by his dial. O noble fool!
42 A worthy fool! Motley’s the only wear.
43 DUKE SENIOR.
44 What fool is this?
45 JAQUES.
46 O worthy fool!—One that hath been a courtier,
47 And says if ladies be but young and fair,
48 They have the gift to know it. And in his brain,
49 Which is as dry as the remainder biscuit
50 After a voyage, he hath strange places crammed
51 With observation, the which he vents
52 In mangled forms. O that I were a fool!
53 I am ambitious for a motley coat.
54 DUKE SENIOR.
55 Thou shalt have one.
56 JAQUES.
57 It is my only suit,
58 Provided that you weed your better judgements
59 Of all opinion that grows rank in them
60 That I am wise. I must have liberty
61 Withal, as large a charter as the wind,
62 To blow on whom I please, for so fools have.
63 And they that are most galled with my folly,
64 They most must laugh. And why, sir, must they so?
65 The “why” is plain as way to parish church.
66 He that a fool doth very wisely hit
67 Doth very foolishly, although he smart,
68 Not to seem senseless of the bob. If not,
69 The wise man’s folly is anatomized
70 Even by the squandering glances of the fool.
71 Invest me in my motley. Give me leave
72 To speak my mind, and I will through and through
73 Cleanse the foul body of th’ infected world,
74 If they will patiently receive my medicine.
75 DUKE SENIOR.
76 Fie on thee! I can tell what thou wouldst do.
77 JAQUES.
78 What, for a counter, would I do but good?
79 DUKE SENIOR.
80 Most mischievous foul sin, in chiding sin;
81 For thou thyself hast been a libertine,
82 As sensual as the brutish sting itself,
83 And all th’ embossed sores and headed evils
84 That thou with license of free foot hast caught
85 Wouldst thou disgorge into the general world.
86 JAQUES.
87 Why, who cries out on pride
88 That can therein tax any private party?
89 Doth it not flow as hugely as the sea
90 Till that the weary very means do ebb?
91 What woman in the city do I name
92 When that I say the city-woman bears
93 The cost of princes on unworthy shoulders?
94 Who can come in and say that I mean her,
95 When such a one as she, such is her neighbour?
96 Or what is he of basest function
97 That says his bravery is not on my cost,
98 Thinking that I mean him, but therein suits
99 His folly to the mettle of my speech?
100 There then. How then, what then? Let me see wherein
101 My tongue hath wronged him. If it do him right,
102 Then he hath wronged himself. If he be free,
103 Why then my taxing like a wild-goose flies
104 Unclaimed of any man. But who comes here?
105 Enter Orlando with sword drawn.
106 ORLANDO.
107 Forbear, and eat no more.
108 JAQUES.
109 Why, I have eat none yet.
110 ORLANDO.
111 Nor shalt not till necessity be served.
112 JAQUES.
113 Of what kind should this cock come of?
114 DUKE SENIOR.
115 Art thou thus boldened, man, by thy distress?
116 Or else a rude despiser of good manners,
117 That in civility thou seem’st so empty?
118 ORLANDO.
119 You touched my vein at first. The thorny point
120 Of bare distress hath ta’en from me the show
121 Of smooth civility; yet am I inland bred
122 And know some nurture. But forbear, I say!
123 He dies that touches any of this fruit
124 Till I and my affairs are answered.
125 JAQUES.
126 An you will not be answered with reason, I must die.
127 DUKE SENIOR.
128 What would you have? Your gentleness shall force
129 More than your force move us to gentleness.
130 ORLANDO.
131 I almost die for food, and let me have it.
132 DUKE SENIOR.
133 Sit down and feed, and welcome to our table.
134 ORLANDO.
135 Speak you so gently? Pardon me, I pray you.
136 I thought that all things had been savage here
137 And therefore put I on the countenance
138 Of stern commandment. But whate’er you are
139 That in this desert inaccessible,
140 Under the shade of melancholy boughs,
141 Lose and neglect the creeping hours of time,
142 If ever you have looked on better days,
143 If ever been where bells have knolled to church,
144 If ever sat at any good man’s feast,
145 If ever from your eyelids wiped a tear,
146 And know what ’tis to pity and be pitied,
147 Let gentleness my strong enforcement be,
148 In the which hope I blush and hide my sword.
149 DUKE SENIOR.
150 True is it that we have seen better days,
151 And have with holy bell been knolled to church,
152 And sat at good men’s feasts, and wiped our eyes
153 Of drops that sacred pity hath engendered.
154 And therefore sit you down in gentleness,
155 And take upon command what help we have
156 That to your wanting may be ministered.
157 ORLANDO.
158 Then but forbear your food a little while,
159 Whiles, like a doe, I go to find my fawn,
160 And give it food. There is an old poor man
161 Who after me hath many a weary step
162 Limped in pure love. Till he be first sufficed,
163 Oppressed with two weak evils, age and hunger,
164 I will not touch a bit.
165 DUKE SENIOR.
166 Go find him out,
167 And we will nothing waste till you return.
168 ORLANDO.
169 I thank ye, and be blest for your good comfort.
170 [_Exit._]
171 DUKE SENIOR.
172 Thou seest we are not all alone unhappy.
173 This wide and universal theatre
174 Presents more woeful pageants than the scene
175 Wherein we play in.
176 JAQUES.
177 All the world’s a stage,
178 And all the men and women merely players;
179 They have their exits and their entrances,
180 And one man in his time plays many parts,
181 His acts being seven ages. At first the infant,
182 Mewling and puking in the nurse’s arms;
183 Then the whining schoolboy, with his satchel
184 And shining morning face, creeping like snail
185 Unwillingly to school. And then the lover,
186 Sighing like furnace, with a woeful ballad
187 Made to his mistress’ eyebrow. Then a soldier,
188 Full of strange oaths and bearded like the pard,
189 Jealous in honour, sudden and quick in quarrel,
190 Seeking the bubble reputation
191 Even in the cannon’s mouth. And then the justice,
192 In fair round belly with good capon lined,
193 With eyes severe and beard of formal cut,
194 Full of wise saws and modern instances;
195 And so he plays his part. The sixth age shifts
196 Into the lean and slippered pantaloon,
197 With spectacles on nose and pouch on side,
198 His youthful hose, well saved, a world too wide
199 For his shrunk shank, and his big manly voice,
200 Turning again toward childish treble, pipes
201 And whistles in his sound. Last scene of all,
202 That ends this strange eventful history,
203 Is second childishness and mere oblivion,
204 Sans teeth, sans eyes, sans taste, sans everything.
205 Enter Orlando bearing Adam.
206 DUKE SENIOR.
207 Welcome. Set down your venerable burden,
208 And let him feed.
209 ORLANDO.
210 I thank you most for him.
211 ADAM.
212 So had you need;
213 I scarce can speak to thank you for myself.
214 DUKE SENIOR.
215 Welcome, fall to. I will not trouble you
216 As yet to question you about your fortunes.
217 Give us some music, and good cousin, sing.
218 SONG.
219 AMIENS. (_Sings_.)
220 Blow, blow, thou winter wind,
221 Thou art not so unkind
222 As man’s ingratitude.
223 Thy tooth is not so keen,
224 Because thou art not seen,
225 Although thy breath be rude.
226 Heigh-ho, sing heigh-ho, unto the green holly.
227 Most friendship is feigning, most loving mere folly.
228 Then, heigh-ho, the holly!
229 This life is most jolly.
230 Freeze, freeze, thou bitter sky,
231 That dost not bite so nigh
232 As benefits forgot.
233 Though thou the waters warp,
234 Thy sting is not so sharp
235 As friend remembered not.
236 Heigh-ho, sing heigh-ho, unto the green holly.
237 Most friendship is feigning, most loving mere folly.
238 Then, heigh-ho, the holly!
239 This life is most jolly.
240 DUKE SENIOR.
241 If that you were the good Sir Rowland’s son,
242 As you have whispered faithfully you were,
243 And as mine eye doth his effigies witness
244 Most truly limned and living in your face,
245 Be truly welcome hither. I am the Duke
246 That loved your father. The residue of your fortune
247 Go to my cave and tell me.—Good old man,
248 Thou art right welcome as thy master is.
249 Support him by the arm. [_To Orlando_.] Give me your hand,
250 And let me all your fortunes understand.
251 [_Exeunt._]