SCENE I. The Forest of Arden. As You Like It  Shakespeare homepage  |  As You Like It  | Act 2, Scene 1 

 Previous scene  |  Next scene  SCENE I. The Forest of Arden. 

 Enter DUKE SENIOR, AMIENS, and two or three Lords, like foresters  DUKE SENIOR  Now, my co-mates and brothers in exile, 

 Hath not old custom made this life more sweet 

 Than that of painted pomp? Are not these woods 

 More free from peril than the envious court? 

 Here feel we but the penalty of Adam, 

 The seasons' difference, as the icy fang 

 And churlish chiding of the winter's wind, 

 Which, when it bites and blows upon my body, 

 Even till I shrink with cold, I smile and say 

 'This is no flattery: these are counsellors 

 That feelingly persuade me what I am.' 

 Sweet are the uses of adversity, 

 Which, like the toad, ugly and venomous, 

 Wears yet a precious jewel in his head; 

 And this our life exempt from public haunt 

 Finds tongues in trees, books in the running brooks, 

 Sermons in stones and good in every thing. 

 I would not change it. 

 AMIENS  Happy is your grace, 

 That can translate the stubbornness of fortune 

 Into so quiet and so sweet a style. 

 DUKE SENIOR  Come, shall we go and kill us venison? 

 And yet it irks me the poor dappled fools, 

 Being native burghers of this desert city, 

 Should in their own confines with forked heads 

 Have their round haunches gored. 

 First Lord  Indeed, my lord, 

 The melancholy Jaques grieves at that, 

 And, in that kind, swears you do more usurp 

 Than doth your brother that hath banish'd you. 

 To-day my Lord of Amiens and myself 

 Did steal behind him as he lay along 

 Under an oak whose antique root peeps out 

 Upon the brook that brawls along this wood: 

 To the which place a poor sequester'd stag, 

 That from the hunter's aim had ta'en a hurt, 

 Did come to languish, and indeed, my lord, 

 The wretched animal heaved forth such groans 

 That their discharge did stretch his leathern coat 

 Almost to bursting, and the big round tears 

 Coursed one another down his innocent nose 

 In piteous chase; and thus the hairy fool 

 Much marked of the melancholy Jaques, 

 Stood on the extremest verge of the swift brook, 

 Augmenting it with tears. 

 DUKE SENIOR  But what said Jaques? 

 Did he not moralize this spectacle? 

 First Lord  O, yes, into a thousand similes. 

 First, for his weeping into the needless stream; 

 'Poor deer,' quoth he, 'thou makest a testament 

 As worldlings do, giving thy sum of more 

 To that which had too much:' then, being there alone, 

 Left and abandon'd of his velvet friends, 

 ''Tis right:' quoth he; 'thus misery doth part 

 The flux of company:' anon a careless herd, 

 Full of the pasture, jumps along by him 

 And never stays to greet him; 'Ay' quoth Jaques, 

 'Sweep on, you fat and greasy citizens; 

 'Tis just the fashion: wherefore do you look 

 Upon that poor and broken bankrupt there?' 

 Thus most invectively he pierceth through 

 The body of the country, city, court, 

 Yea, and of this our life, swearing that we 

 Are mere usurpers, tyrants and what's worse, 

 To fright the animals and to kill them up 

 In their assign'd and native dwelling-place. 

 DUKE SENIOR  And did you leave him in this contemplation? 

 Second Lord  We did, my lord, weeping and commenting 

 Upon the sobbing deer. 

 DUKE SENIOR  Show me the place: 

 I love to cope him in these sullen fits, 

 For then he's full of matter. 

 First Lord  I'll bring you to him straight. 



 Exeunt  Shakespeare homepage  |  As You Like It  | Act 2, Scene 1 

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