As You Like It, Act 2, Scene 5

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.

Whoever loves to lie with me under the green woodland tree, and to tune his cheerful song to the sweet bird's singing, come here, come here, come here! Here he will see no enemy but winter and rough weather.

More, more, I prithee, more.

More, more, please, more.

It will make you melancholy, Monsieur Jaques.

It will make you sad, Monsieur 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.

I'm grateful for that. More, please, more. I can suck sadness out of a song the way a weasel sucks eggs. More, please, more.

My voice is ragged. I know I cannot please you.

My voice is rough. I know I can't please you.

I do not desire you to please me; I do desire you to sing. Come, more, another stanzo. Call you ’em stanzos?

I'm not asking you to please me; I am asking you to sing. Come on, more, another stanzo. Do you call them stanzos?

What you will, Monsieur Jaques.

Whatever you like, Monsieur Jaques.

Nay, I care not for their names. They owe me nothing. Will you sing?

No, I don't care about their names. They owe me nothing. Will you sing?

More at your request than to please myself.

More because you ask than to please myself.

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.

Well then, if I ever thank any man, I'll thank you; but what people call politeness is like two baboons meeting. And when a man thanks me warmly, it seems to me I've given him a penny and he pays me back with a beggar's thanks. Come on, sing; and those of you who won't, be quiet.

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.

All right, I'll finish the song.—Gentlemen, lay the table meanwhile. The Duke will drink under this tree; he's been looking for you all day.

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.

And I've been avoiding him all day. He's too fond of arguing to be company for me. I think about as many matters as he does, but I thank heaven and don't boast about them. Come on, warble, come on.

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.

Whoever avoids ambition and loves to live in the sunshine, hunting for the food he eats and satisfied with whatever he gets, come here, come here, come here. Here he will see no enemy but winter and rough weather.

I’ll give you a verse to this note that I made yesterday in despite of my invention.

I'll give you a verse to this tune that I made up yesterday, in spite of my own lack of talent.

And I’ll sing it.

And I'll sing it.

Thus it goes:

It goes like this:

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.

If it happens that any man turns into an ass, leaving his wealth and comfort to satisfy a stubborn whim, ducdame, ducdame, ducdame; here he will see complete fools like himself, if he will come to me.

What’s that “ducdame?”

What is that "ducdame"?

’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.

It's a Greek spell for calling fools into a circle. I'll go and sleep if I can; if I can't, I'll curse all the first-born of Egypt.

And I’ll go seek the Duke; his banquet is prepared.

And I'll go and look for the Duke; his feast is ready.