The Forest.
Enter AMIENS, JAQUES, and others
SONG.
AMIENS
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.
JAQUES
More, more, I prithee, more.
AMIENS
It will make you melancholy, Monsieur Jaques.
JAQUES
I thank it. More, I prithee, more. I can suck
melancholy out of a song, as a weasel sucks eggs.
More, I prithee, more.
AMIENS
My voice is ragged: I know I cannot please you.
JAQUES
I do not desire you to please me; I do desire you to
sing. Come, more; another stanzo: call you 'em stanzos?
AMIENS
What you will, Monsieur Jaques.
JAQUES
Nay, I care not for their names; they owe me
nothing. Will you sing?
AMIENS
More at your request than to please myself.
JAQUES
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.
AMIENS
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.