Lofe and neglect the creeping hours of time;
If ever you have look'd on better days;

If ever been where bells have knoll'd to church;
If ever fate at any good man's feast;
If ever from your eyelids wip'd a tear,
And know what 'tis to pity, and be pitied;
Let gentlenefs my ftrong enforcement be,
In the which hope I blufh, and hide

my fword.
Duke Sen. True is it, that we have feen better days;
And have with holy bell been knoll'd to church;
And fate at good men's feafts, and wip'd our eyes
Of drops, that facred pity hath engender'd:
And therefore fit you down in gentleness,
And take upon command what help we have,
That to your wanting may be miniftred.

Orla. Then but forbear your food a little while,
Whiles, like a doe, I go to find my fawn,
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 firft fuffic'd,
Opprefs'd with two weak evils age and hunger,
I will not touch a bit....

Duke Sen. Go find him out,

And we will nothing wafte 'till you return.

Orla. I thank ye; and be blefs'd for your good com

fort!

[Exit.

Duke Sen. Thou feeft, we are not all alone unhappy This wide and universal theatre

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

Jaq. 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 feven ages. At first the infant,
Mewling and puking in the nurse's arms:

And then, the whining school-boy with his fatchel,
And fhining morning-face, creeping like fnail
Unwillingly to fchool. And then, the lover;
Sighing like furnace, with a woeful ballad

Made

Made to his mistrefs' eye-brow. Then, a foldier;
Full of strange oaths, and bearded like the pard,
Jealous in honour, fudden 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 lin'd,
With eyes fevere, and beard of formal cut,
Full of wife faws (13) and modern inftances,
And fo he plays his part. The fixth age shifts.
Into the lean and flipper'd pantaloon,
With spectacles on nofe, and pouch on fide;
His youthful hose well fav'd, a world too wide
For his fhrunk fhank; and his big manly voice,
Turning again toward childish treble, pipes,
And whistles in his found. Laft scene of all,
That ends this ftrange eventful hiftory,

Is fecond childishness, and mere oblivion,
Sans teeth, fans eyes, fans tafte, fans every thing.
Enter Orlando, with Adam..

Duke Sen. Welcome: Set down your venerable burden And let him feed.

Orla. I thank you most for him.
Adam. So had you need.

I fcarce can fpeak to thank you for myself.

Duke Sen. Welcome, fall to: I will not trouble you,

As yet to question you about your fortunes.

Give us fome mufick; and, good coufin, fing.

(13)

and modern infances.] It is very obfervable that Shakespeare ufes modern exactly in the manner the Greeks used naivòs; which fignifies fometimes in their writings nevus, recens; and fometimes ab Judus.

Mr. Warbartons

Heigh ho! fing, heigh ho! unto the green holly;
Moft friendship is feigning; moft loving mere folly:
Then heigh ho, the holly!

This life is most jolly.

Freeze, freeze, thou bitter sky,
That doft not bite fo nigh
As benefits forgot:

Tho' thou the waters warp,
Thy fting is not so sharp

As friend remembred not..

Heigh ho! fing, &c.

Duke Sen. If that you were the good Sir Rowlana's fon, As you have whisper'd faithfully you were, And as mine eye doth his effigies witness, Moft truly limn'd, and living in your face,. Be truly welcome hither. I'm the Duke, That lov'd your father. The refidue 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

ACT III.

SCENE the Palace.

Enter Duke, Lords, and Oliver.

DUKE.

OT fee him fince Sir, Sir, that cannot be:

NOT

But were I not the better part made mercy,
I should not feek an absent argument

Of my revenge, thou prefent: But look to it;
Find out thy brother, wherefoe'er he is;

Seek him with candle: Bring him dead or living,

Within this twelvemonth; or turn thou no more
To feek a living in our territory.

Thy lands and all things that thou doft call thine,
Worth feisure, do we feize into our hands;

'Till thou canft quit thee by thy brother's mouth,
Of what we think against thee.

Oli. Oh, that your Highnefs knew my heart in this : I never lov'd my brother in my life.

Duke. More villain thou. Well, push him out of doors; And let my officers of fuch a nature

Make an extent upon his house and lands:

Do this expediently, and turn him going.

Orla.

[Exeunt.

SCENE changes to the Foreft.

Enter Orlando.

Ang there, my verfe, in witnefs of my love; And thou thrice-crowned Queen of nightfurvey, With thy chafte eye, from thy pale sphere above, Thy huntress' name that my full life doth sway. O Rofalind! thefe trees fhall be my books, And in their barks my thoughts I'll character; That every eye, which in this foreft looks,

Shall fee thy virtue witnefs'd every where. Run, run, Orlando, carve, on every tree, The fair, the chafte, and unexpreffive the.

Enter Corin and Clown,

[Exit.

Cor.' And how like you this fhepherd's life, Mr, Touchftone?

Clo. Truly, fhepherd, in refpect of itself, it is a good life; but in respect that it is a fhepherd's life, it is naught. In refpect that it is folitary, I like it very well; but in refpect that it is private, it is a very vile life. Now in respect it is in the fields, it pleaseth me well; but in refpect it is not in the court, it is tedious. As it is a fpare life, look you, it fits my humour well; but as there is no more plenty in it, it goes much againft my stomach. Haft any philofophy in thee, fhepherd ?

Cor.

Cor. No more, but that I know, the more one fickens 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 pafture makes fat fheep; and that a great cause of the night, is lack of the fun: That he, that hath learned no wit by nature nor art, may complain of good breeding, or comes of a very dull kindred.

Clo. Such a one is a natural philofopher. Wast ever in court, fhepherd ?

Cor. No, truly.

Clo. Then thou art damn'd.

Cor. Nay, I hope

Clo. Truly, thou art damn'd, like an ill-roafted egg, all on one fide.

Cor. For not being at court? your reason.

Clo. Why, if thou never waft at court, thou never faw'ft good manners; if thou never faw'ft good manners, then thy manners must be wicked; and wickedness is fin, and fin is damnation : Thou art in a parlous ftate, fhepherd,

Cor. Not a whit, Touchstone: Thofe, that are good manners at the court, are as ridiculous in the country, as the behaviour of the country is most mockable at the court. You told me, you falute not at the court, but you kifs your hands; that courtesy would be uncleanly, if courtiers were fhepherds.

Clo. Inftance, briefly; come, inftance.

Cor. Why, we are still handling our ewes; and their fels, you know, are greafy.

Clo. Why, do not your courtiers hands fweat? and is not the greafe of a mutton as wholfome as the sweat of a man ? fhallow, fhallow ;- —a better instance, I say: Come. Cor. Befides, our hands are hard.

Clo. Your lips will feel them the fooner. Shallow again; -a more founder inftance, come.

Cor. And they are often tarr'd over with the furgery of our fheep; and would you have us kifs tar? the courtier's hands are perfumed with civet.

Cle.