A worthy fool-motley's the only wear.

Duke Sen. What fool is this?

Faq. O worthy fool! one that hath been a Courtier,
And fays, 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 bisket
After a voyage, he hath ftrange places cramm'd
With obfervation, the which he vents
In niangled forms. O that I were a fool!
I am ambitious for a motley coat.
Duke Sen. Thou fhalt have one.
Jac. It is my only fuit ';

Provided, that you weed your better judgments
Of all opinion, that grows rank in them,
That I am wife. I must have liberty
Withal; as large a charter as the wind,
To blow on whom I pleafe'; for fo fools have;
And they that are most gauled with my folly,
They most muft laugh: and why, Sir, muft they fo?
The why is plain, as way to parifh church;
He, whom a fool doth very wifely hit,
Doth very foolishly, although he fmart,
Not to feem fenfelefs of the bob. "If not *,
The wife man's folly is anatomiz'd
Even by the fquandring glances of a 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,

If they will patiently receive my medicine.

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

Jaq. What, for a counter, would I do but good?
Duke Sen. Molt mifchievous foul fin, in chiding
fin:

For thoù thyfelf haft been a libertine,
As fenfual as the brutish fting itfelf";
And all the emboffed fores and headed evils,
That thou with licence of free foót haft caught,
Wouldst thou difgorge 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,
'Till that the very very means do ebb?
What woman in the city do I name,
When that I fay the city-woman bears
The cost of Princes on unworthy shoulders?
Who can come in, and fay, that I mean her;
When fuch a one as fhe, fuch is her neighbour?
Or what is he of bafeft function,

That fays, his bravery is not on my coft;
Thinking, that I mean him; but therein futes
His folly to the metal of my fpeech?

There then; how then? what then? let me fee

wherein

My tongue hath wrong'd him; if it do him right,
Then he hath wrong'd himself; if he be free,
Why, then my taxing, like a wild goofe, flies
Unclaim'd of any man-But who comes here?

As fenfual as the brutish fing.] though the brutish fting is capable of a fenfe not inconvenient

in this paffage, yet as it is a harsh
and unutual mode of speech, I
should read the brutish fly.

SCENE

S BENE VIII.

Enter Orlando, with Sword drawn.

Orla. Forbear, and eat no more.

Jaq. Why, I have eat none yet.

Orla. Nor fhalt thou, 'till neceffity be ferv'd.
Jaq. What kind fhould this Cock come of?
Duke Sen. Art thou thus bolden'd, man, by thy
distress ;;

Or elfe a rude defpifer of good manners,

That in civility thou feem'ft fo empty?

Orla. You touch'd my vein at first. The thorny point

Of bare diftrefs hath ta'en from me the fhew

Of smooth civility; yet am I inland bred,
And know fome nurture. But forbear, I fay:
He dies, that touches any of this fruit,
'Till I and my affairs are anfwered.

Jaq. If you will not

Be anfwered with reafon, I must die.

Duke Sen. What would you have? Your gentleness fhall force,

More than your force move us to gentleness.

Orla. I almoft die for food, and let me have it. Duke Sen. Sit down and feed; and welcome to our table.

Orla. Speak you fo gently?-Pardon me, I pray.

you;

I thought, that all things had been favage here;
And therefore put I on the countenance

Of ftern commandment. But whate'er you are,

That in this defert inacceffible,

Under the shade of melancholy boughs,

Lose 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 known what 'tis to pity, and be pitied;
Let gentleness my ftrong enforcement be.
In the which hope I blufh, and hide my fword.

[Sheathing his 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 ministred.

Orla. Then but forbear your food a little while,
Whiles, like a doc, 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 your return.

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

fort!

SCENE IX.

[Exit.

Duke Sen. Thou feeft, we are not all alone un

happy:

This wide and univerfal Theatre

• Then take upon command what belp we have.] It seems neceffary to read, then take upon

demand what help, &c. that is, afk for what we can fupply, and have it.

Tre

Prefents more woful pageants, than the scene
Wherein we play in.

Jaq. All the world's a Stage,

And all the men and women meerly 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 nurfe's arms.

And then, the whining school-boy with his fatchel,
And thining morning-face, creeping like snail
Unwillingly to fchool. And then, the lover;
Sighing like furnace, with a woful ballad
Made to his miftrefs' eye-brow. Then a foldier:
Full of ftrange 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 and modern instances,
And fo he plays his part. The fixth age shifts?
Into the lean and flipper'd pantaloon,
With fpectacles on nofe, and pouch on fide;
His youthful hofe well fay'd, a world too wide
For his fhrunk fhank; and his big manly voice,
Turning again toward childish treble, pipes

Full of wife farves and modern inftances. It is remark able that Shakespear ules modern in the double fenfe that the Greeks used and, both for recens and ubfurdus. WARBURTON. I am in doubt whether modern in this place ufed for abfurd: the meaning feems to be, that the justice is full of old fayings and late examples.

9

The fixth age flifts Into the lean and flipper'd pantalcon.] There is a greater

beauty than appears at firft fight in this image. He is here comparing human life to a stage play, of feven acts, (which was no unusual division before our author's time.) The fixth he calls the lean and flipper'd pantaloon, alluding to that general charac ter in the Italian comedy, called Il Pantalone; who is a thin emaciated old man in flippers; and well defigned, in that epithet, because Pantalóne is the only character that acts in flippers. WARB.

And