Duke.

Go find him out,1

And we will nothing waste till you return.

Orlando. I thank ye; and be blest for your good comfort! [Exit R.]

Duke. Thou seest, we are not all alone unhappy.

This wide and universal theatre

Presents more woeful pageants than the scene

Wherein we play in.

Jaques.2

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 seven ages. At first the infant,
Mewling3 and puking in the nurse's arms.
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 woeful ballad
Made to his mistress' eyebrow. Then a soldier,
Full of strange oaths, and bearded like the pard,7
Jealous in honor, sudden 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 lined,

With eyes severe and beard of formal cut,
Full of wise saws and modern instances 10;

1 Go find him out: equivalent to go and find him.

2 Jaques. Though a very clever man, Jaques is cynical, and he draws for us in this speech what we should now call a cartoon.

3 Mewling: crying peevishly.

4 puking (pūking): vomiting.

5 mistress': sweetheart's.

6

strange oaths: oaths in a foreign language, because of travel.

7 bearded like the pard: like the leopard, shaggily.

8 formal cut: Vandyke.

9 wise saws: wise sayings.

10 modern instances: commonplace examples.

And so he plays his part. The sixth age shifts
Into the lean and slippered pantaloon,

With spectacles on nose and pouch1 on side,
His youthful hose, well saved, a world too wide
For his shrunk shank; and his big manly voice,
Turning again toward childish treble, pipes
And whistles in its sound. Last scene of all,
That ends this strange eventful history,

Is second childishness and mere2 oblivion,

3

Sans teeth, sans eyes, sans taste, sans everything.

Orlando comes with Adam [R.].

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

Orlando. I thank you most for him.

Adam.

4

So had you need;

I scarce can speak to thank you for myself. Duke. Welcome; fall to. I will not trouble you As yet, to question you about your fortunes. Give us some music; and, good cousin, sing. Amiens. [Sings.]5

Blow, blow, thou winter wind,

Thou art not so unkind

As man's ingratitude;

Thy tooth is not so keen,
Because thou art not seen,

Although thy breath be rude.

Though thou the waters warp,
Thy sting is not so sharp

As friend remembered not.1

[The Duke and Orlando have been whispering together during the song.]

Duke. If you are the good Sir Roland's son,

As you have whispered to me that you are,
Be truly welcome hither.

That loved your father.

Give me your hand,

I am the Duke

And let me all your fortunes understand.

[Exeunt R.]

Duke Frederick arrives in the forest with two of his lords [L.]. Duke Frederick. Can it be possible that no man saw her? First Lord. I cannot hear of any that did see her.

Her ladies

Saw her a-bed, and in the morning early

They found the bed untreasured of their mistress. Second Lord. 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.

1 friend remembered not: friend who does not remember.

2 Duke Frederick arrives in the forest. In Shakespeare's day this short episode took place upon the outer stage, before the curtains, which meant that it did not necessarily have a definite location in the minds of the audience at all. As more scenery came to be used on the stage, editors gave the episode a definite setting, as in the palace or on the palace grounds, according to their own ideas and the facilities of the stage in their own times. We shall take the liberty of having it occur in the forest, as our stage is small, and our facilities for changing scenes are limited.

3 It is more convenient for playing if Charles is the First and Le Beau the Second Lord, though the playlet will seem a little more consistent if two other lords are used.

Duke Frederick. Bring me his brother. Fetch that gallant 1

hither.

[To Oliver.]

They return immediately with Oliver.
Look to it.

Find out thy brother, whereso'er he is.

Bring him dead or living

Within this twelvemonth, or return no more

To seek a living in our territory.

Thy lands and all things that thou dost call thine

Worth seizure do we seize into our hands,

Till thou canst quit thee by thy brother's mouth

Of what we think against thee.

Oliver. O that your Highness knew my heart in this!

I never loved my brother in my life.

Duke.Frederick. More villain thou!-Well, push him out of doors;

And let my officers of such a nature

Make an extent upon his house and lands

And turn him going.

[Exeunt Duke Frederick R., the others L.]

ACT III

[Scene, the same]3

Orlando, wandering happily through the forest [L.] stops to pin a paper to a tree.

Orlando. Hang there, my verse, in witness of my love. -
O, Rosalind! these trees shall be my books,

That every eye which in this forest looks

Shall see thy virtue witnessed everywhere.—

1 gallant (găl'ănt, usually pronounced gă-lănt'): young man of mettle. The Duke uses the word ironically.

2 quit: acquit.

3 [Scene, the same.] Of course when there is no change in scene, the stage direction should not be read aloud..

Run, run, Orlando; carve on every tree,
The fair, the chaste, the unexpressive 1 she.
And he is away again [L.].

Rosalind enters [R.], disguised in her boy's clothes, takes the paper from the tree, and reads.

From the east to western Ind,2

No jewel is like Rosalind.

All the pictures fairest lined,

Are but black to Rosalind.

Celia enters [R.] with another paper, reading.

Why should this a desert be?

For it is unpeopled? No!
Tongues I'll hang on every tree,
And upon the fairest boughs,

Or at every sentence end,

Will I Rosalinda write.

Heaven would that she all gifts should have,

And I to live and die her slave.

Rosalind. O most gentle Jupiter!

Celia. Know you who hath done this?

Rosalind. Is it a man?

Celia. And a chain, that you once wore, about his neck. Change you color?

Rosalind. I prithee, who?

3

Celia. O wonderful, wonderful, and most wonderful won

1 unexpressive: inexpressible, or indescribable.

2 The humor of the scene will be well begun by bringing out the lameness of some of Orlando's poetry, pronouncing Ind, for instance, with a short i, Rosalind in the line below it with a short i, then lined (drawn) with a long i, and Rosalind next with a long i. This phase of humor reaches its height in the attempt to rhyme have and slave in the closing couplet of the poem that Celia reads.

3 wonderful. Celia remarks upon the wonderful color of the blushes that mount to Rosalind's cheeks.