Archives For Authors


Taken from the Complete Works of William Shakespeare

As You Like It

DRAMATIS PERSONÆ

ACT II

SCENE V. another part of the Forest.

Enter AMIENS, JAQUES, and others

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.

Ami. And I’ll go seek the duke: his banquet

is prepared.                     [Exeunt severally

SCENE VI. Another part of the Forest.

Enter ORLANDO and ADAM

Adam. Dear master, I can go no farther. O,

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 will give thee leave to die: 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 VII. Another part of the Forest.

A Table set.

Enter DUKE Senior, AMIENS, and others.

Duke S. I think he be transform’d into a

beast;

For I can no where find him like a man.

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 musi-

cal,

We shall have shortly discord in the spheres.

Go, seek him: tell him I would speak with him.

Lord. He saves my labour by his own ap-

proach.

Enter JAQUES

Duke S. Why, how now, monsieur! what a

life is this,

That your poor friends must woo your com

pany?

What, you look merrily!

Jaq. A fool, a fool! I met a fool i’ the forest,

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,

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,

And, looking on it with lack-lustre eye,

Says very wisely, ‘It is ten o’clock:

Thus we may see,’ quoth he, ‘how the world wags:

‘Tis but an hour ago since it was nine,

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

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

An hour by his dial. O noble fool!

A worthy fool! Motley’s the only wear.

(On 2/28/15 – Join me in the continuation of Shakespeare’s 

“As You Like It”


Taken from the Complete Works of William Shakespeare

As You Like It

DRAMATIS PERSONÆ

ACT II

SCENE V. another part of the Forest.

Enter AMIENS, JAQUES, and others

SONG.

Ami.  Under the greenwood tree

Who loves to lie with me,
And turn 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, Mon-

sieur Jaques.

Jaq. I thank it. More, I pr’ythee, more. I

can suck melancholy out of a song, as a weasel

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 ‘em stanzas?

Ami. What you will, Monsieur Jaques.

Jaq. Nay, I care not for their names; they

owe me nothing. Will you sing?      [myself.

Ami. More at your request than to please

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.

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.

SONG.
Who doth ambition shun [All together here.

And loves to live i’ the sun,
Seeking the food he eats,
And pleased 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,
Ducdame, ducdame, ducdame:
Here shall he see
Gross fools as he,
An if he will come to Ami.

 

(On 2/28/15 – Join me in the continuation of Shakespeare’s 

“As You Like It”


Taken from the Complete Works of William Shakespeare

As You Like It

DRAMATIS PERSONÆ

ACT II

SCENE IV. The Forest of Arden.

Ros. Alas, poor shepherd! searching of thy

wound,

I have by hard adventure found mine own.

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 batlet and

the cow’s dugs that her pretty chopt hands

had milked; and I remember the wooing of a

peascod instead of her, from whom I took two

cods and, giving her them again, said with

weeping 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.

Ros. Thou speakest wiser than thou art ware

of.

Touch. Nay, I shall ne’er be ware of mine

own wit till I break my shins against it.

Ros. Jove, Jove! this shepherd’s passion

Is much upon my fashion.

Touch. And mine; but it grows something

stale with me.

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?

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

Can in this desert place buy entertainment,

Bring us where we may rest ourselves and feed:

Here’s a young maid with travel much op-

press’d

And faints for succor.

Cor. Fair sir, I pity her

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:

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

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.

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,

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

(On 2/27/15 – Join me in the continuation of Shakespeare’s 

“As You Like It”


Taken from the Complete Works of William Shakespeare

As You Like It

DRAMATIS PERSONÆ

ACT II

SCENE IV. The Forest of Arden.

Enter ROSALIND. in boy’s clothes, CELIA

dressed like a shepherdess, and 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 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!

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

farther.

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.

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.

Ros. Ay, be so, good Touchstone.—Look

you, who comes here; a young man and an old

in solemn talk.

Enter CORIN and SILVIUS.

Cor. That is the way to make her scorn you

still.                                             [love her!

Sil. O Corin, that thou knew’st how I do

Cor. I partly guess; for I have loved ere now.

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–

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.

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 loved:

Or if thou hast not sat as I do now,

Wearying thy hearer in thy mistress’ praise,

Thou hast not loved:

Or if thou hast not broke from company

Abruptly, as my passion now makes me,

Thou hast not loved. O Phebe, Phebe, Phebe!

Exit SILVIUS

(On 2/26/15 – Join me in the continuation of Shakespeare’s 

“As You Like It”


Taken from the Complete Works of William Shakespeare

As You Like It

DRAMATIS PERSONÆ

ACT II

SCENE II. A room in the palace.

Enter DUKE FREDERICK, Lords and Attend-

ants.

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!

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—

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,

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.         [me go?

Orl. Why, whither, Adam, wouldst thou have

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

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

Of a diverted blood and bloody brother.

Adam. But do not so. I have five hundred

crowns,

The thrifty hire I saved under your father,

Which I did store to be my foster-nurse

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,

Be comfort to my age! Here is the gold;

And 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

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,

Frosty, but kindly: let me go with you;

I’ll do the service of a younger man

In all your business and necessities.   [pears

Orl. O good old man, how well in thee ap—

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,

And having that, do choke their service up

Even with the having: it is not so with thee.

But, poor old man, thou prunest a rotten tree,

That cannot so much as a blossom yield

In lieu of all thy pains and husbandry:

But come thy ways; well go along together,

And ere we have thy youthful wages spent,

We’ll light upon some settled low content.

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.

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.

Exeunt

(On 2/25/15 – Join me in the continuation of Shakespeare’s 

“As You Like It”


Taken from the Complete Works of William Shakespeare

As You Like It

DRAMATIS PERSONÆ

ACT II

SCENE II. A room in the palace.

Enter DUKE FREDERICK, Lords and Attend-

ants.

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.

Lord. I cannot hear of any that did see her.

The ladies, her attendants of her chamber,

Saw her abed, and in the morning early

They found the bed untreasured of their mis-

tress.                                                [so oft

Lord. My lord, the roynish clown, at whom

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

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.

Duke F. Send to his brother; fetch that gal-

lant 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

To bring again these foolish runaways.

Exeunt

SCENE III. 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?

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?

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,

Are sanctified and holy traitors to you.

(On 2/24/15 – Join me in the continuation of Shakespeare’s 

“As You Like It”


Taken from the Complete Works of William Shakespeare

As You Like It

DRAMATIS PERSONÆ

ACT II. SCENE I.— The Forest of Arden.

Enter DUKE SENIOR, AMIENS, and two or three Lords,

in the dress of 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?

Here feel we but 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,

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,

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,

Sermons in stones and good in everything.

I would not change it.

Ami. Happy is your grace,

That can translate the stubbornness of fortune

Into so quiet and so sweet a style.        [son?

Duke S. Come, shall we go and kill us veni?

And yet it irks me the poor dappled fools,

Being native burghers of this desert city,

Should in their own confines with forked

heads

Have their round haunches gor’d.

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.

To-day my Lord of Amiens and myself

Did steal behind him as he lay along

Under an oak whose antique root peeps out

Upon the brook that brawls along this wood:

To the which place a poor sequester’d stag,

That from the hunter’s aim had ta’en a hurt,

Did come to languish, and indeed, my lord,

The wretched animal heaved forth such groans

That their discharge did stretch his leathern

coat

Almost to bursting, and the big round tears

Coursed one another down his innocent nose

In piteous chase; and thus the hairy fool

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?

Lord. O, yes, into a thousand similes.

First, for his weeping into the needless stream;

‘Poor deer,’ quoth he, ‘thou makest a testament

As worldlings do, giving thy sum of more

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,

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

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

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 con-

templation?                               [menting

Lord. We did, my lord, weeping and com

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.

Lord I’ll bring you to him straight.

Exeunt

(On 2/23/15 – Join me in the continuation of Shakespeare’s 

“As You Like It”