William Shakespeare - Ultimate Collection: Complete Plays & Poetry in One Volume. William Shakespeare

Ducdame, ducdame, ducdame;

       Here shall he see

       Gross fools as he,

       An if he will come to me.

       AMIENS

       What’s that “ducdame?”

       JAQUES

       ‘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.

       AMIENS

       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 further: O, I die for food! Here lie I down, and measure out my grave. Farewell, kind master.

       ORLANDO

       Why, how now, Adam! no greater heart in thee? Live a little; comfort a little; cheer thyself a little. If this uncouth forest yield anything 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’ll give thee leave to die: but if thou diest before I come, thou art a mocker of my labour. Well said! thou look’st cheerily: 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. Cheerily, good Adam!

       [Exeunt.]

      SCENE VII. Another part of the Forest

       [A table set. Enter DUKE Senior, AMIENS, and others.]

       DUKE SENIOR

       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.

       DUKE SENIOR

       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.

       FIRST LORD

       He saves my labour by his own approach.

       [Enter JAQUES.]

       DUKE SENIOR

       Why, how now, monsieur! what a life is this,

       That your poor friends must woo your company?

       What! you look merrily!

       JAQUES

       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.

       DUKE SENIOR

       What fool is this?

       JAQUES

       O worthy fool!—One that hath been a courtier,

       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

       With observation, the which he vents

       In mangled forms.-O that I were a fool!

       I am ambitious for a motley coat.

       DUKE SENIOR

       Thou shalt have one.

       JAQUES

       It is my only suit,

       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,

       To blow on whom I please; for so fools have:

       And they that are most gallèd with my folly,

       They most must laugh. And why, sir, must they so?

       The “why” is plain as way to parish church:

       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

       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 the infected world,

       If they will patiently receive my medicine.

       DUKE SENIOR

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

       JAQUES

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

       DUKE SENIOR

       Most mischievous foul sin, in chiding sin;

       For thou thyself hast been a libertine,

       As sensual as the brutish sting itself;

       And all the embossèd sores and headed evils

       That thou with license of free foot hast caught

       Wouldst thou disgorge into the general world.

       JAQUES

       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 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?

       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