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Scene V

Оглавление

Enter Amiens, Jaques, and others.

Song

[Ami.]

Under the greenwood tree

Who loves to lie with me,

And turn his merry note

Unto the sweet bird’s throat,

Come hither, come hither, come hither!

Here shall he see

No enemy

But winter and rough weather.

Jaq. More, more, I prithee more.

Ami. It will make you melancholy, Monsieur Jaques.

Jaq. I thank it. More, I prithee more. I can suck melancholy out of a song, as a weasel sucks eggs. More, I prithee 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 stanzo. Call you ’em stanzos?

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 th’ 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.

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.

All together here.

Song

Who doth ambition shun,

And loves to live i’ th’ sun,

Seeking the food he eats,

And pleas’d with what he gets,

Come hither, come hither, 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.

[Jaq.] Thus it goes:

If it do come to pass

That any man turn ass,

Leaving his wealth and ease

A stubborn will to please,

Ducdame, ducdame, ducdame!

Here shall he see

Gross fools as he,

And if he will come to me.

Ami. What’s that ‘ducdame’?

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.

Ami. And I’ll go seek the Duke, his banket is prepar’d.

Exeunt.

Shakespeare: The Complete Collection

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