Enter Duke Senior and Lords, like outlaws. DUKE SENIOR
I think he be transformed 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, 5
We shall have shortly discord in the spheres.
Go seek him. Tell him I would speak with him. Enter Jaques. FIRST LORD
He saves my labor by his own approach. DUKE SENIOR, to Jaques
Why, how now, monsieur? What a life is this
That your poor friends must woo your company? 10
What, you look merrily. JAQUES
A fool, a fool, I met a fool i’ th’ forest,
A motley fool. A miserable world!
As I do live by food, I met a fool,
Who laid him down and basked him in the sun 15
And railed 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.” 20
And then he drew a dial from his poke
And, looking on it with lack-luster 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, 25
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, 30
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. 35 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 40
After a voyage, he hath strange places crammed
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. 45 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, 50
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 55
Doth very foolishly, although he smart,
Not to seem senseless of the bob. If not,
The wise man’s folly is anatomized
Even by the squand’ring glances of the fool.
Invest me in my motley. Give me leave 60
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 SENIOR
Fie on thee! I can tell what thou wouldst do. JAQUES
What, for a counter, would I do but good? 65 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 th’ embossèd sores and headed evils
That thou with license of free foot hast caught 70
Wouldst thou disgorge into the general world. | Duke Senior and his band of merry men are readying to settle down to dinner and they're looking for Jaques. Jaques arrives and, shockingly, he's in a good mood. He says he ran into a "motley fool" in the forest. (A "motley" is a multi-colored costume worn to signify one's status as a professional fool or jester.) Apparently, Jaques hung out with the fool for about an hour and was amused by the guy's philosophical musings on the passage of time and the nature of women. Jaques says that fools are the only people allowed to mock others without getting into trouble and says if he were a licensed fool, he could point out everybody's flaws and cure "th'infected world" of all its problems. Duke Senior's not buying any of it—he points out that Jaques is more likely to infect the entire world (with venereal disease) than to cure it. |
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? 75
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 neighbor? 80
Or what is he of basest function
That says his bravery is not on my cost,
Thinking that I mean him, but therein suits
His folly to the mettle of my speech?
There then. How then, what then? Let me see 85
wherein
My tongue hath wronged him. If it do him right,
Then he hath wronged himself. If he be free,
Why then my taxing like a wild goose flies
Unclaimed of any man. 90 Enter Orlando, brandishing a sword. But who comes here? ORLANDO Forbear, and eat no more. JAQUES Why, I have eat none yet. ORLANDO
Nor shalt not till necessity be served. JAQUES Of what kind should this cock come of? 95 DUKE SENIOR, to Orlando
Art thou thus boldened, man, by thy distress,
Or else a rude despiser of good manners,
That in civility thou seem’st so empty? ORLANDO
You touched my vein at first. The thorny point
Of bare distress hath ta’en from me the show 100
Of smooth civility, yet am I inland bred
And know some nurture. But forbear, I say.
He dies that touches any of this fruit
Till I and my affairs are answerèd. JAQUES An you will not be answered with reason, I 105
must die. DUKE SENIOR, to Orlando
What would you have? Your gentleness shall force
More than your force move us to gentleness. ORLANDO
I almost die for food, and let me have it. DUKE SENIOR
Sit down and feed, and welcome to our table. 110 ORLANDO
Speak you so gently? Pardon me, I pray you.
I thought that all things had been savage here,
And therefore put I on the countenance
Of stern commandment. But whate’er you are
That in this desert inaccessible, 115
Under the shade of melancholy boughs,
Lose and neglect the creeping hours of time,
If ever you have looked on better days,
If ever been where bells have knolled to church,
If ever sat at any good man’s feast, 120
If ever from your eyelids wiped a tear
And know what ’tis to pity and be pitied,
Let gentleness my strong enforcement be,
In the which hope I blush and hide my sword. He sheathes his sword. DUKE SENIOR
True is it that we have seen better days, 125
And have with holy bell been knolled to church,
And sat at good men’s feasts and wiped our eyes
Of drops that sacred pity hath engendered.
And therefore sit you down in gentleness,
And take upon command what help we have 130
That to your wanting may be ministered. ORLANDO
Then but forbear your food a little while
Whiles, like a doe, I go to find my fawn
And give it food. There is an old poor man
Who after me hath many a weary step 135
Limped in pure love. Till he be first sufficed,
Oppressed with two weak evils, age and hunger,
I will not touch a bit. DUKE SENIOR Go find him out,
And we will nothing waste till you return. 140 ORLANDO
I thank you; and be blessed for your good comfort. He exits. | As Jaques responds to the Duke's insult, Orlando bursts in on the dinner party and yells "Forebear, and eat no more!" Jaques calls Orlando a "cock" (no kidding) and Duke Senior asks whether Orlando is distressed or just raised to have no manners. Orlando is hell-bent on stabbing somebody if they eat, though the Duke insists he should take it easy. Orlando can't take it easy, because he and Adam are starving. Still, he does apologize, saying everything in the forest is so brutish, he must have become brutish himself. The Duke understands, and he invites Orlando to eat with them. Everyone promises to wait while Orlando runs off to get Adam. |
DUKE SENIOR
Thou seest we are not all alone unhappy.
This wide and universal theater
Presents more woeful pageants than the scene
Wherein we play in. 145 JAQUES 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, 150
Mewling and puking in the nurse’s arms.
Then the whining schoolboy with his satchel
And shining morning face, creeping like snail
Unwillingly to school. And then the lover,
Sighing like furnace, with a woeful ballad 155
Made to his mistress’ eyebrow. Then a soldier,
Full of strange oaths and bearded like the pard,
Jealous in honor, sudden and quick in quarrel,
Seeking the bubble reputation
Even in the cannon’s mouth. And then the justice, 160
In fair round belly with good capon lined,
With eyes severe and beard of formal cut,
Full of wise saws and modern instances;
And so he plays his part. The sixth age shifts
Into the lean and slippered pantaloon 165
With spectacles on nose and pouch 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 his sound. Last scene of all, 170
That ends this strange eventful history,
Is second childishness and mere oblivion,
Sans teeth, sans eyes, sans taste, sans everything. Enter Orlando, carrying Adam. | Duke Senior takes the opportunity to comment that misery seems to be a universal experience. Jaques delivers the play's most famous speech (the "All the world's a stage" bit). He goes on to detail the seven ages of man, as follows: infant, whining schoolboy, lover, soldier, contented middle-aged man, kinda-old guy with spectacles, and finally a very, very old guy who has lost his senses and looks and acts like a helpless baby again. (Check out the "Symbolism, Imagery, Allegory" section if you want to know more about this.) Just as Jaques is saying that old men are like infants, Orlando enters carrying his old servant, Adam... who is as helpless as a baby. |
DUKE SENIOR
Welcome. Set down your venerable burden,
And let him feed. 175 ORLANDO I thank you most for him. ADAM So had you need.—
I scarce can speak to thank you for myself. DUKE SENIOR
Welcome. Fall to. I will not trouble you
As yet to question you about your fortunes.— 180
Give us some music, and, good cousin, sing. The Duke and Orlando continue their conversation,
apart. Song. AMIENS sings
"Blow, blow, thou winter wind.
Thou art not so unkind
As man’s ingratitude.
Thy tooth is not so keen, 185
Because thou art not seen,
Although thy breath be rude.
Heigh-ho, sing heigh-ho, unto the green holly.
Most friendship is feigning, most loving mere folly.
Then heigh-ho, the holly. 190
This life is most jolly. "Freeze, freeze, thou bitter sky,
That dost not bite so nigh
As benefits forgot.
Though thou the waters warp, 195
Thy sting is not so sharp
As friend remembered not.
Heigh-ho, sing heigh-ho, unto the green holly.
Most friendship is feigning, most loving mere folly.
Then heigh-ho, the holly. 200
This life is most jolly." DUKE SENIOR, to Orlando
If that you were the good Sir Rowland’s son,
As you have whispered faithfully you were,
And as mine eye doth his effigies witness
Most truly limned and living in your face, 205
Be truly welcome hither. I am the duke
That loved your father. The residue of your fortune
Go to my cave and tell me.—Good old man,
Thou art right welcome as thy master is.
To Lords. Support him by the arm. To Orlando. 210
Give me your hand,
And let me all your fortunes understand. They exit. | The Duke doesn't want to bother them with questions before eating, so they all feast (probably on deer meat). Amiens sings a song about how even the harsh winter wind isn't as terrible as the way human beings can sometimes treat each other. During the song, Orlando and Duke Senior chat, and Orlando tells the Duke that he is the son of Sir Rowland de Boys. The Duke recognizes old man Rowland's features in the boy and is delighted to have him. Duke Senior was a good friend of Sir Rowland, so he says Orlando and Adam are welcome in his cave anytime. The Duke says he wants to hear the story of how Adam and Orlando ended up homeless and hungry in the forest. |