Cor. And to you, gentle sir, and to you all.

Ros. I pr’ythee, 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 oppress'd,
And faints for succour.

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

will feed on; but what is, come see, And in my voice most welcome shall you be.5

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 any thing.

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.


to you, friend.] The old copy reads--to your friend. Corrected by the editor of the second folio. Malone. 4 And little recks -] i. e. heeds, cares for. So, in Hamlet:

" And recks not his own rede.” Steevens. 5 And in my voice most welcome shall you be,] In my voice, as far as I have a voice, or vote, as far as I have power to bid you wel.. come. Johnson.


The same.
Enter AMIENS, JAQUES, and Others.

Ami. Under the greenwood tree,

Who loves to lie with me,
And tune his merry note

Unto the sweet bird's throat,
Come hither, come hither, come nither;

Here shall he see

But winter and rough weather.
Jaq. More, more, I pr’ythee, more.
Ami. It will make you melancholy, monsieur Jaques.

Jaq. I thank it. More, I pr’ythee, more. I can suck melancholy out of a song, as a weazel 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 them stanzas?

Ami. What you will, monsieur Jaques.

Jaq. Nay, I care not for their names; they owe me nothing: Will you sing?

Ami. More at your request, than to please myself.

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

6 And tune - ] The old copy has turne. Corrected by Mr. Pope. So, in The Two Gentlemen of Verona:

“ And to the nightingale s complaining note

Tune my distresses, and record my woes.” Malone. The old copy may be right, though Mr. Pope, &c. read tune. To turn a tune or a note, is still a current phrase among vulgar musicians. Steevens.

raggel;] Our modern editors (Mr. Malone excepted) read rugged; but ragged had anciently the same meaning. So, in Nash s Apologie of Pierce Pennilesse, 4to. 1593: “ I would not troi a faise gallop through the rest of his ragged verses,” &c.



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.

Jay. And I have been all this day to avoid him. He is too dispútables 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.


Who doth ambiliun shun, [All together here]
And loves to live i' the sun,
Seeking the food he eats,

Arid pleao'd with what he gets,
Come hither, come hiiher, 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.
Jay. Thus it goes:

If it do come to pass,
That any man turn ass,
Leaving his wealth and ease,

A stubborn will to fileare,
Ducdàme, ducdame, ducdume;'

Here shall he see,

Gross fools as he,
An if he will come to Ami.

[ocr errors]

dispútable-) For disputatious. Malone. 9 — to live i' the sun,] Modern editions, to lie. Johnson.

To live i' the sun, is to labour and “sweat in the eye of Phæbus," or, vitam agere sub dio; for by lying in the sun, how could they get the food they eat? Tollet.

ducdame;] For ducdame, Sir Thomas Hanmer, very acutely and judiciously, reads duc ad me, that is, bring him to me.

Fohnson. If duc ad me were right, Amiens would not have asked its meaning, and been put off with “a Greek invocation.” It is eri. dently a word coined for the nonce. We have here, as Butler says, “One for sense, and one for rhyme.Indeed we must have


Ami. What's that duc dàme?

Jaq. 'Tis a Greek invocation, to call fools into a cir. cle. I'll go sleep if I can; if I cannot, I 'll rail against all the first-born of Egypt.2

Ami. And I'll go seek the duke; his banquet is prepar'd.

[Exeunt severally.

a double rhyme; or this stanza cannot well be sung to the same tune with the former. I read thus:

Ducdame, Ducdame, Ducdame,

“ Here shall he see

“ Gross fools as he,

“ An' if he will come to Ami.” That is, to Amiens. Jaques did not mean to ridicule himself.

Farmer. Duc ad me has hitherto been received as an illusion to the bur. then of Amiens's song

Come hither, come hither, come hither. That Amiens, who is a courtier, should not understand Latin, or be persuaded it was Greek, is no great matter for wonder. An anonymous correspondent proposes to read-Huc ad me.

In confirmation of the old reading, however, Dr. Farmer ob. serves to me, that, being at a house not far from Cambridge, when news was brought that the hen-roost was robbed, a face. tious old squire who was present, immediately sung the following stanza, which has an odd coincidence with the ditty of Jaques:

Damè, what makes your ducks to die?

duck, duck, duck.-
Damè, what makes your chicks to cry?

“chuck, chuck, chuck.". I have placed Dr. Farmer's emendation in the text. Ducdamo is a trisvllable. Stecvens.

If it do come to pass,
That any man turn ass,
Leaving his wealth and ease,
A stubborn will to please,
Duc ad me, duc ad me, duc ad me;
Here shall he see
Gross fools as, &c.] See Hor. Serm. L. II, sat. iii:

oč Audire atque togam jubeo componere, quisquis
“ Ambitione mala aut argenti pallet amore;
“Quisquis luxuria tristive superstitione,
“ Aut alio mentis morbo calet: Huc proprius me,
“ Dum doceo insanire omnes, vos ordine adite.” Malone.

the first-born of Egypt.] A proverbial expression for highborn persons. Fohnson.

The phrase is scriptural, as well as proverbial. So, in Exodus, xii, 29: " And the Lord smote all the first-born in Egypt."




The same.

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.' Farewel, 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'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 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 any thing in this desert. Cheerly, good Adam!

[Exeunt. SCENE VII.

The same. A table set out. Enter Duke senior, Amiens, Lords,

and Others. Duke S. I think he be transform'd into a beast; For I can no where find him like a man.

i 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, a grow musical,

[ocr errors]

3 Here lie I down, and measure out my grave.] So, in Romeo and Fuliet:

fall upon the ground, as I do now, Taking the measure of an unmade grave.” Steevens.

compact of jars,] i e. made up of discords. In The Comedy of Errors, we have compact of credit,for made up of credulity. Again, in Woman is a Weathercock, 1612:

like gilded tombs

Compacted of jet pillars.”
The same expression occurs also in Tamburlane, 1590:

Compact of rapine, piracy, and spoil.” Steevens.

« 上一页继续 »