Jaques. Ay, it's a melancholy business. Come, warble.
Amiens. Song.
Who doth all comfort shun
And hates the blooming sun,
Eating what he can get
And sleeping in the wet,
Come hither, come hither, come hither;
Here shall he learn
To right-about-turn
In winter and rough weather.
Jaques (getting up). A melancholy business. Amiens, my lad, I feel the old weakness coming over me.
Amiens (alarmed). You're going to recite, Corporal?
Jaques. Yes, I'm going to recite. (Sighs.)
Amiens. Fight against it, Corporal, fight against it! It didn't matter in the old civilian days, long ago; but think if it suddenly seized you when we were going into action!
Jaques. I know, I know. I've often thought of it. But when once it gets hold of me——(Pleadingly) This will only be a very little one, Amiens.... H'r'm!
All the world's at war
And all the men are learning to be soldiers:
They have their exits—
(Bugle)
Dammit, there goes mine.
[Exit hurriedly, followed by the others.
Enter Rosalind and Celia.