SCENE V. Enter AMIENS, JAQUES, and others. SONG. Ami. Under the greenwood tree, Who loves to lie with me, And tune his merry note 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, Jaques, monsieur 281 Jaq. I thank it. More, I prythee, more. I can suck melancholy out of a song, as a weazel sucks eggs: More, I pr'ythee, more. : Ami. My voice is rugged; 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 ? 290 Ami. What you will, monsieur Jaques. Jaq. Nay, I care not for their names; they owe nie nothing: Will you sing? Ami. More at your request, than to please myselfs Jaq 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. 302 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. Jaq. I'll give you a verse to this note, that I made yesterday in despight of my invention. Ami. And I'll sing it. Jaq. Thus it goes: If If it do come to pass, 320 A stubborn will to please, Duc ad me, duc ad me, duc ad me ; Here shall he see Gross fools as he, An if he will come to me. Ami. What's that, duc ad me ? 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. 330 Ami. And I'll go seek the duke; his banquet is prepar'd. SCENE VI. [Exeunt severally. 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. Orla. 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 a while at the arım's end: I will be here with thee presently; and |