JAQUES.
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.
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.
JAQUES.
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.
AMIENS.
[Sings.]
Who doth ambition shun
And loves to live i’ th’ sun,
Seeking the food he eats
And pleased with what he gets,
Come hither, come hither, come hither.
Here shall he see
No enemy
But winter and rough weather.
JAQUES.
I’ll give you a verse to this note that I made yesterday in despite of my invention.
AMIENS.
And I’ll sing it.
JAQUES.
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,
An if he will come to me.
AMIENS.
What’s that “ducdame?”