As You Like It (1919) Yale/Text/Act II

From Wikisource
Jump to navigation Jump to search


Scene One

[The Forest of Arden]

Enter Duke Senior, Amiens, and two or three Lords, like Foresters.

Duke S. Now, my co-mates and brothers in exile,
Hath not old custom made this life more sweet
Than that of painted pomp? Are not these woods
More free from peril than the envious court? 4
Here feel we not the penalty of Adam.
The seasons' difference—, as, the icy fang
And churlish chiding of the winter's wind,
Which, when it bites and blows upon my body, 8
Even till I shrink with cold, I smile and say—
'This is no flattery': these are counsellors
That feelingly persuade me what I am.
Sweet are the uses of adversity, 12
Which like the toad, ugly and venomous,
Wears yet a precious jewel in his head;
And this our life exempt from public haunt,
Finds tongues in trees, books in the running brooks, 16
Sermons in stones, and good in every thing.

Ami. I would not change it. Happy is your Grace,
That can translate the stubbornness of fortune
Into so quiet and so sweet a style. 20

Duke S. Come, shall we go and kill us venison?
And yet it irks me, the poor dappled fools,
Being native burghers of this desert city,
Should in their own confines with forked heads 24
Have their round haunches gor'd.

First Lord.Indeed, my lord,
The melancholy Jaques grieves at that;
And, in that kind, swears you do more usurp
Than doth your brother that hath banish'd you. 28
To-day my Lord of Amiens and myself
Did steal behind him as he lay along
Under an oak whose antic root peeps out
Upon the brook that brawls along this wood; 32
To the which place a poor sequester'd stag,
That from the hunters' aim had ta'en a hurt,
Did come to languish; and, indeed, my lord,
The wretched animal heav'd forth such groans 36
That their discharge did stretch his leathern coat
Almost to bursting, and the big round tears
Cours'd one another down his innocent nose
In piteous chase; and thus the hairy fool, 40
Much marked of the melancholy Jaques,
Stood on the extremest verge of the swift brook,
Augmenting it with tears.

Duke S.But what said Jaques?
Did he not moralize this spectacle? 44

First Lord. O, yes, into a thousand similes.
First, for his weeping into the needless stream;
'Poor deer,' quoth he, 'thou mak'st a testament
As worldlings do, giving thy sum of more 48
To that which had too much': then, being there alone,
Left and abandon'd of his velvet friends;
''Tis right,' quoth he; 'thus misery doth part
The flux of company': anon, a careless herd, 52
Full of the pasture, jumps along by him
And never stays to greet him; 'Ay,' quoth Jaques,
'Sweep on, you fat and greasy citizens;
'Tis just the fashion; wherefore do you look 56
Upon that poor and broken bankrupt there?'
Thus most invectively he pierceth through
The body of the country, city, court,
Yea, and of this our life; swearing that we 60
Are mere usurpers, tyrants, and what's worse,
To fright the animals and to kill them up
In their assign'd and native dwelling-place.

Duke S. And did you leave him in this contemplation? 64

Sec. Lord. We did, my lord, weeping and commenting
Upon the sobbing deer.

Duke S.Show me the place.
I love to cope him in these sullen fits,
For then he's full of matter. 68

Sec. Lord. I'll bring you to him straight.


Scene Two

[A Room in the Palace]

Enter Duke [Frederick], with Lords.

Duke F. Can it be possible that no man saw them?
It cannot be: some villains of my court
Are of consent and sufferance in this.

First Lord. I cannot hear of any that did see her. 4
The ladies, her attendants of her chamber,
Saw her a-bed; and, in the morning early
They found the bed untreasur'd of their mistress.

Sec. Lord. My lord, the roynish clown, at whom so oft 8
Your Grace was wont to laugh, is also missing.
Hisperia, the princess' gentlewoman,
Confesses that she secretly o'erheard
Your daughter and her cousin much commend 12
The parts and graces of the wrestler
That did but lately foil the sinewy Charles;
And she believes, wherever they are gone,
That youth is surely in their company. 16

Duke F. Send to his brother; fetch that gallant hither;
If he be absent, bring his brother to me;
I'll make him find him. Do this suddenly,
And let not search and inquisition quail 20
To bring again these foolish runaways. Exeunt.

Scene Three

[Before Oliver's House]

Enter Orlando and Adam [meeting].

Orl. Who's there?

Adam. What! my young master? O my gentle master!
O my sweet master! O you memory
Of old Sir Rowland! why, what make you here? 4
Why are you virtuous? Why do people love you?
And wherefore are you gentle, strong, and valiant?
Why would you be so fond to overcome
The bonny priser of the humorous duke? 8
Your praise is come too swiftly home before you.
Know you not, master, to some kind of men
Their graces serve them but as enemies?
No more do yours: your virtues, gentle master, 12
Are sanctified and holy traitors to you.
O, what a world is this, when what is comely
Envenoms him that bears it!

Orl. Why, what's the matter?

Adam. O unhappy youth! 16
Come not within these doors; within this roof
The enemy of all your graces lives.
Your brother,—no, no brother; yet the son,—
Yet not the son, I will not call him son 20
Of him I was about to call his father,—
Hath heard your praises, and this night he means
To burn the lodging where you use to lie,
And you within it: if he fail of that, 24
He will have other means to cut you off.
I overheard him and his practices.
This is no place; this house is but a butchery:
Abhor it, fear it, do not enter it. 28

Orl. Why, whither, Adam, wouldst thou have me go?

Adam. No matter whither, so you come not here.

Orl. What! wouldst thou have me go and beg my food?
Or with a base and boisterous sword enforce 32
A thievish living on the common road?
This I must do, or know not what to do:
Yet this I will not do, do how I can;
I rather will subject me to the malice 36
Of a diverted blood and bloody brother.

Adam. But do not so. I have five hundred crowns,
The thrifty hire I sav'd under your father,
Which I did store to be my foster-nurse 40
When service should in my old limbs lie lame,
And unregarded age in corners thrown.
Take that; and He that doth the ravens feed,
Yea, providently caters for the sparrow, 44
Be comfort to my age! Here is the gold;
All this I give you. Let me be your servant:
Though I look old, yet I am strong and lusty;
For in my youth I never did apply 48
Hot and rebellious liquors in my blood,
Nor did not with unbashful forehead woo
The means of weakness and debility;
Therefore my age is as a lusty winter, 52
Frosty, but kindly. Let me go with you;
I'll do the service of a younger man
In all your business and necessities.

Orl. O good old man! how well in thee appears 56
The constant service of the antique world,
When service sweat for duty, not for meed!
Thou art not for the fashion of these times,
Where none will sweat but for promotion, 60
And having that, do choke their service up
Even with the having: it is not so with thee.
But, poor old man, thou prun'st a rotten tree,
That cannot so much as a blossom yield, 64
In lieu of all thy pains and husbandry.
But come thy ways, we'll go along together,
And ere we have thy youthful wages spent,
We'll light upon some settled low content. 68

Adam. Master, go on, and I will follow thee
To the last gasp with truth and loyalty.
From seventeen years till now almost fourscore
Here lived I, but now live here no more. 72
At seventeen years many their fortunes seek;
But at fourscore it is too late a week:
Yet fortune cannot recompense me better
Than to die well and not my master's debtor. 76


Scene Four

[The Forest of Arden]

Enter Rosalind for Ganymede, Celia for Aliena, and Clown, alias Touchstone.

Ros. O Jupiter! how weary are my spirits.

Touch. I care not for my spirits if my legs
were not weary.

Ros. I could find it in my heart to disgrace my
man's apparel and to cry like a woman; but I
must comfort the weaker vessel, as doublet and
hose ought to show itself courageous to petti-
coat: therefore, courage, good Aliena. 8

Cel. I pray you, bear with me: I cannot go
no further.

Touch. For my part, I had rather bear with
you than bear you; yet I should bear no cross if
I did bear you, for I think you have no money

in your purse. 14

Ros. Well, this is the forest of Arden.

Touch. Ay, now am I in Arden; the more
fool I: when I was at home, I was in a better
place: but travellers must be content.

Enter Corin and Silvius.

Ros. Ay, be so, good Touchstone. Look you,
who comes here; a young man and an old in
solemn talk. 21

Cor. That is the way to make her scorn you still.

Sil. O Corin, that thou knew'st how I do love her!

Cor. I partly guess, for I have lov'd ere now. 24

Sil. No, Corin; being old, thou canst not guess,
Though in thy youth thou wast as true a lover
As ever sigh'd upon a midnight pillow:
But if thy love were ever like to mine,— 28
As sure I think did never man love so,—
How many actions most ridiculous
Hast thou been drawn to by thy fantasy?

Cor. Into a thousand that I have forgotten. 32

Sil. O! thou didst then ne'er love so heartily.
If thou remember'st not the slightest folly
That ever love did make thee run into,
Thou hast not lov'd: 36
Or if thou hast not sat as I do now,
Wearing thy hearer with thy mistress' praise,
Thou hast not lov'd:
Or if thou hast not broke from company 40
Abruptly, as my passion now makes me,
Thou hast not lov'd. O Phebe, Phebe, Phebe!


Ros. Alas, poor shepherd! searching of thy wound,
I have by hard adventure found mine own. 44

Touch. And I mine. I remember, when I was
in love I broke my sword upon a stone, and bid
him take that for coming a-night to Jane Smile;
and I remember the kissing of her batler, and
the cow's dugs that her pretty chopped hands
had milked; and I remember the wooing of a 50
peascod instead of her, from whom I took two
cods, and giving her them again, said with weep-
ing tears, 'Wear these for my sake.' We that are
true lovers run into strange capers; but as all is
mortal in nature, so is all nature in love mortal
in folly
. 56

Ros. Thou speakest wiser than thou art ware

Touch. Nay, I shall ne'er be ware of mine own
wit till I break my shins against it. 60

Ros. Jove, Jove! this shepherd's passion
Is much upon my fashion.

Touch. And mine; but it grows something
stale with me. 64

Cel. I pray you, one of you question yond man,
If he for gold will give us any food:
I faint almost to death.

Touch.Holla, you clown!

Ros. Peace, fool: he's not thy kinsman.

Cor.Who calls? 68

Touch. Your betters, sir.

Cor.Else are they very wretched.

Ros. Peace, I say. Good even to you, friend.

Cor. And to you, gentle sir, and to you all.

Ros. I prithee, shepherd, if that love or gold 72
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.

Cor.Fair sir, I pity her, 76
And wish, for her sake more than for mine own,
My fortunes were more able to relieve her;
But I am shepherd to another man,
And do not shear the fleeces that I graze: 80
My master is of churlish disposition
And little recks to find the way to heaven
By doing deeds of hospitality.
Besides, his cote, his flocks, and bounds of feed 84
Are now on sale; and at our sheepcote now,
By reason of his absence, there is nothing
That you will feed on; but what is, come see,
And in my voice most welcome shall you be. 88

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 anything.

Ros. I pray thee, if it stand with honesty, 92
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. 96

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, 100
And buy it with your gold right suddenly. Exeunt.

Scene Five

[Another Part of the Forest]

Enter Amiens, Jaques, and Others.


Ami. 'Under the greenwood tree
Who loves to lie with me,
And turn his merry note
Unto the sweet bird's throat, 4
Come hither, come hither, come hither:
Here shall he see
No enemy
But winter and rough weather.' 8

Jaq. More, more, I prithee, more.

Ami. It will make you melancholy, Monsieur
Jaques. 11

Jaq. I thank it. More! I prithee, more. I
can suck melancholy out of a song as a weasel
sucks eggs. More! I prithee, more.

Ami. My voice is ragged; I know I cannot
please you. 16

Jaq. I do not desire you to please me; I do
desire you to sing. Come, more; another stanzo:
call you them stanzos?

Ami. What you will, Monsieur Jaques. 20

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

Ami. More at your request than to please
myself. 24

Jaq. Well then,if ever I thank any man,I'll thank
you: but that they call compliment is like the en-
counter 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. 33

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.


All together here.

Ami. 'Who doth ambition shun,
And loves to live i' the sun,
Seeking the food he eats, 40
And pleased with what he gets,
Come hither, come hither, come hither:
Here shall he see
No enemy 44
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. 48

Jaq. Thus it goes:

'If it do come to pass
That any man turn ass,
Leaving his wealth and ease, 52
A stubborn will to please,
Ducdame, ducdame, ducdame:
Here shall he see
Gross fools as he, 56
An if he will come to me.'

Ami. What's that 'ducdame'?

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. 61

Ami. And I'll go seek the duke: his banquet
is prepared. Exeunt.

Scene Six

[Another Part of the Forest]

Enter Orlando and Adam.

Adam. Dear master, I can go no further: O!
I die for food. Here lie I down, and measure
out my grave. Farewell, kind master. 3

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 8
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; 12
but if thou diest before I come, 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 anything in this desert.
Cheerly, good Adam. Exeunt.

Scene Seven

[Another Part of the Forest]

[A table set out.] Enter Duke Senior, [Amiens,] and Lords, like Outlaws.

Duke S. I think he be transform'd into a beast,
For I can nowhere find him like a man.

First Lord. My lord, he is but even now gone hence:
Here was he merry, hearing of a song. 4

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.

First Lord. He saves my labour by his own approach. 8

Duke S. Why, how now, monsieur! what a life is this,
That your poor friends must woo your company?
What, you look merrily!

Jaq. A fool, a fool! I met a fool i' the forest, 12
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, 16
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, 20
And, looking on it with lack-lustre eye,
Says very wisely, 'It is ten o'clock;
Thus may we see,' quoth he, 'how the world wags:
'Tis but an hour ago since it was nine, 24
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 28
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 32
An hour by his dial. O noble fool!
A worthy fool! Motley's the only wear.

Duke S. What fool is this?

Jaq. O worthy fool! One that hath been a courtier, 36
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 40
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.

Jaq. It is my only suit; 44
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, 48
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: 52
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 anatomiz'd 56
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 th' infected world, 60
If they will patiently receive my medicine.

Duke S. Fie on thee! I can tell what thou wouldst do.

Jaq. What, for a counter, would I do, but good?

Duke S. Most mischievous foul sin, in chiding sin: 64
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 licence of free foot hast caught, 68
Wouldst thou disgorge into the general world.

Jaq. Why, who cries out on pride,
That can therein tax any private party?
Doth it not flow as hugely as the sea, 72
Till that the weary 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? 76
Who can come in and say that I mean her,
When such a one as she such is her neighbour?
Or what is he of basest function,
That says his bravery is not on my cost,— 80
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, 84
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?

Enter Orlando [with his sword drawn].

Orl. Forbear, and eat no more.

Jaq.Why, I have eat none yet. 88

Orl. Nor shalt not, till necessity be serv'd.

Jaq. 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, 92
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 I am inland bred 96
And know some nurture. But forbear, I say:
He dies that touches any of this fruit
Till I and my affairs are answered.

Jaq. An you will not be answered with reason, 100
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. 104

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 108
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; 112
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 wip'd a tear, 116
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, 120
And have with holy bell been knoll'd to church,
And sat at good men's feasts, and wip'd our eyes
Of drops that sacred pity hath engender'd;
And therefore sit you down in gentleness 124
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 128
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 suffic'd,
Oppress'd with two weak evils, age and hunger, 132
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 unhappy: 136
This wide and universal theatre
Presents more woful pageants than the scene
Wherein we play in.

Jaq.All the world's a stage,
And all the men and women merely players: 140
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. 144
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 woful ballad 148
Made to his mistress' eyebrow. Then a soldier,
Full of strange oaths, and bearded like the pard,
Jealous in honour, sudden and quick in quarrel,
Seeking the bubble reputation 152
Even in the cannon's mouth. And then the justice,
In fair round belly with good capon lin'd,
With eyes severe, and beard of formal cut,
Full of wise saws and modern instances; 156
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 sav'd, a world too wide 160
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, 164
Is second childishness and mere oblivion,
Sans teeth, sans eyes, sans taste, sans everything.

Enter Orlando, with Adam.

Duke S. Welcome. Set down your venerable burden,
And let him feed.

Orl.I thank you most for him. 168

Adam. So had you need:
I scarce can speak to thank you for myself.

Duke S. Welcome; fall to: I will not trouble you
As yet, to question you about your fortunes. 172
Give us some music; and, good cousin, sing.


Ami. 'Blow, blow, thou winter wind,
Thou art not so unkind
As man's ingratitude; 176
Thy tooth is not so keen,
Because thou art not seen,
Although thy breath be rude.
Heigh-ho! sing, heigh-ho! unto the green holly: 180
Most friendship is feigning, most loving mere folly.
Then heigh-ho! the holly!
This life is most jolly.

Freeze, freeze, thou bitter sky, 184
That dost not bite so nigh
As benefits forgot:
Though thou the waters warp,
Thy sting is not so sharp 188
As friend remember'd not.
Heigh-ho! sing, heigh-ho! unto the green holly:
Most friendship is feigning, most loving mere folly.
Then heigh-ho! the holly! 192
This life is most jolly.'

Duke S. 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 196
Most truly limn'd and living in your face,
Be truly welcome hither: I am the duke
That lov'd your father: the residue of your fortune
Go to my cave and tell me. Good old man, 200
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.

Footnotes to Act II

Scene One

S. d. Duke Senior; cf. n.
3 painted: artificial, unnatural
5 penalty of Adam; cf. n.
6 as: for example
7 churlish: rough, violent
chiding: angry noise
13 toad; cf. n.
15 haunt: resort
18 I . . . it; cf. n.
20 style: manner of life
22 fools: here a term of pity
23 desert; cf. n.
24 confines: regions
forked heads: i.e., the heads of barbed arrows
27 in that kind: in that way
30 along: at full length
31 antic: fantastic, grotesque, or antique
32 brawls: i.e., the noise made by a brook flowing over stones
33 sequester'd: separated, i.e., from the herd
38 tears; cf. n.
39 Cours'd: pursued
44 moralize: interpret, give a moral sense to
46 needless: not in need, i.e., of more water
48 worldlings: men of this world (?)
50 velvet: i.e., because of their soft coats (?); cf. n.
52 flux of company; cf. n.
anon: presently
55 greasy: i.e., with excess prosperity
56 fashion: prevalent way, what is to be expected
58 invectively: with denunciation
62 kill . . . up: kill off
67 cope: encounter
68 matter: sense, substance
69 straight: straightway

Scene Two

3 of consent and sufferance: i.e., have complied and permitted without opposition
7 untreasur'd: devoid of the treasure
8 roynish: scurvy
13 parts: personal qualities
19 suddenly: immediately
20 quail: falter

Scene Three

3 memory: memorial
7 so fond: so foolish as
8 bonny priser: stout champion; cf. 'prise-fighter'
10 kind: sorts
12 No . . . yours; cf. n.
13 sanctified: sanctimonious
15 Envenoms: proves poisonous to; cf. n.
23 use: are wont
26 practices: stratagems
27 place: residence
butchery: shambles; cf. n.
37 diverted blood; cf. n.
39 thrifty . . . sav'd: hire I thriftily saved
42 in corners thrown: (lie) cast aside
43 ravens; cf. n.
50 Nor . . . not; cf. n.
51 means: causes
53 kindly: seasonable, healthful
58 meed: reward
65 In lieu of: in return for
67 youthful: i.e., earned in youth
74 a week; cf. n.

Scene Four

Scene Four S. d. for: i.e., dressed to represent
12 cross . . . money; cf. n.
31 fantasy: imagination
38 Wearing: wearing out
43 thy wound; cf. n.
44 adventure: hazard, chance
48 batler: bat for beating clothes in the process of washing
49 chopped: chapped
51 peascod; cf. n.
52 cods: pods
55 nature in love: i.e., human lovers
mortal in folly: deadly foolish
57 ware: aware
59 be ware: beware
67 clown: peasant
82 recks: cares
84 cote: cottage
bounds of feed: range of pasture
88 in my voice: as far as my opinion is concerned
89 What: who
shall: is expected to
92 honesty: honor
95 mend: increase
96 waste: spend
98 upon report: i.e., what is said about
100 feeder: servant

Scene Five

3 turn: compose; cf. n.
18 stanzo: stanza
21 names: i.e., their technical names
27 dog-apes; cf. n.
29 beggarly: i.e., like a beggar
31 cover: spread the cloth for a meal
33 look: look for
35 disputable: inclined to dispute
46 note: tune
47 in . . . invention: in defiance of my imagination
54 Ducdame; cf. n.
59 fools . . . circle: i.e., as if by conjuring
61 first-born of Egypt; cf. n.

Scene Six

5 comfort: take comfort
8 conceit: imagination
9 comfortable: cheerful
11 presently: immediately

Scene Seven

4 hearing of: listening to
5 compact of jars: made up of discords
6 spheres; cf. n.
13 motley: i.e., in the parti-colored dress of a professional jester
16 rail'd . . . Fortune; cf. n.
20 dial: pocket sun-dial (?)
poke: pocket
23 wags: goes forward
28 thereby . . . tale; cf. n.
29 moral: moralize
30 chanticleer; cf. n.
32 sans: without
34 wear: proper uniform (i.e., we ought all to dress as fools)
39 dry: dull, stupid
41 vents: utters
44 my only suit; cf. n.
48 large . . . charter: broad license
50 galled: made sore
55 senseless: insensible
bob: taunt
57 squandering: random
63 counter: a coin of no intrinsic value
66 sting: carnal impulse
67 embossed: swollen
headed evils: diseases come to a head
68 licence of free foot: licentious freedom
69 general: whole
71 tax: censure
73 weary very; cf. n.
79 function: office, or employment
79-82 Cf. n.
81 suits: fits
82 mettle: substance
85 free: i.e., from guilt or blame
91 bolden'd: emboldened
94 vein: disposition
96 inland; cf. n.
97 nurture: gentle upbringing
100 An: if
114 knoll'd: rung, tolled
118 enforcement: compulsion
125 upon command: at pleasure
126 wanting: necessity
132 Oppress'd: oppressed as he is
139 All . . . stage; cf. n.
143 seven ages; cf. n.
144 Mewling: crying feebly
150 pard: leopard
151 Jealous: suspicious, or, apprehensive
154 capon; cf. n.
156 saws: maxims
modern instances: commonplace illustrations
158 pantaloon: an enfeebled old man; cf. n.
163 his: its
165 mere: total
167 venerable burden; cf. n.
187 warp: i.e., by freezing or ruffling them
195 faithfully: assuringly
196 effigies: likeness
197 limn'd: painted, portrayed