Imatges de pÓgina

Buy thou the cottage, pafture, and the flock,
And thou fhalt have to pay for it of us.
Cel. And we will mend thy wages.
I like this place, and willingly could wafte
My time in it.

Cor. Affuredly the thing is to be fold;
Go with me; if you like, upon report,
The foil, the profit, and this kind of life,
I will your very faithful feeder be,

And buy it with your gold right fuddenly.

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No enemy?

But winter and rough weather.

Jaq. More, more, I pr'ythee, more.


Ami. It will make you melancholy, Monfieur Jaques. Jaq. I thank it; more, I pr'ythee, more; I can fuck melancholy out of a fong, as a weazel fucks eggs: more, I pr'ythee, more.

Ami. My voice is rugged, I know I cannot please you. Jaq. I do not defire you to please me, I do defire you to fing; come, come, another ftanzo: call you 'em ftanzo's ? Ami. What you will, Monfieur Jaques.

Jaq. Nay, I care not for their names, they owe me nothing. Will you fing?

Ami. More at your requeft, than to please my self.

Jaq. 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, fing; and you that will not, hold your tongues


Ami. Well, I'll end the fong. Sirs, cover the while; the C 2


Duke will dine under this tree; he hath been all this day to look you.

Faq. And I have been all this day to avoid him. He is too difputable for my company: I think of as many matters as he, but I give heav'n thanks, and make no boaft of them. Come, warble, come."


Who doth ambition fhun,
And loves to lye i'th' fun,
Seeking the food be eats,

And pleas'd with what he gets;

Come bitber, come hither, come bitber;
Here fhall be fee

No enemy,

But winter and rough weather.

Jaq. I'll give you a verfe to this note, that I made yefterday in defpight of my invention.

Ami. And I'll fing it.

Jaq. Thus it goes.

If it do come to pass,

That any man turn afs;

Leaving bis wealth and cafe,
Aftubborn will to pleafe,

`Duc ad me, duc ad me, duc ad n

Here fhall be fee

Gross fools as be,

An if he will come to me.

Ami. What's that duc ad me?


Jag. 'Tis a Greek invocation, to call fools into a circle. I'll go fleep if I can; if I cannot, I'll rail againft all the firft-born of Egypt.

Ami. And I'll go feek the Duke: his banquet is pre



SCENE VI. Enter Orlando and Adam. Adam. Dear mafter, I can go no further; O, I die for food! here lye I down, and meafure out my grave. Farewel, kind mafter.

Orla. Why, how now, Adam! no greater heart in thee? live a little, comfort a little, cheer thy felf a little. If

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this uncouth foreft yield any thing favage, I will either be food for it, or bring it for food to thee: thy conceit is nearer death, than thy powers. For my fake be comfortable, hold death a while at the arm's end: I will be here with thee presently, and if I bring thee not fomething to eat, I'll give thee leave to die. But if thou dieft before I come, thou art a mocker of my labour. Well faid, thou look'ft cheerly. And I'll be with thee quickly; yet thou lyeft in the bleak air. Come, I will bear thee to fome helter, and thou shalt not die for lack of a dinner, if there live any thing in this defart. Cheerly, good Adam. [Exeunt. [A table set out


Enter Duke Sen, and Lords.
Duke Sen. I think he is transform'd into a beast,
For I can no where find him like a man.

1 Lord. My Lord, he is but even now gone hence, Here was he merry, hearing of a song.

Duke Sen. If he, compact of jars, grow mufical,
We shall have fhortly difcord in the spheres:
Go feek him, tell him I would speak with him.
Enter Jaques.

1 Lord. He faves my labour by his own approach. Duke Sen. Why how now, Monfieur, what a life is this, That your poor friends must woo your company?

What? you look merrily.

Jaq. A fool, a fool; I met a fool i'th' foreft, A motley fool, a miserable varlet,

As I do live by food, I met a fool,

Who laid him down and bafk'd him in the fun,
And rail'd on lady fortune in good terms,

In good fet terms, and yet a motley fool.

Good morrow, fool, quoth I: No, Sir, quoth he,
Call me not fool, 'till heaven hath fent me fortune;
And then he drew a dial from his poak,
And looking on it with lack-luftre eye,
Says, very wifely, it is ten a clock:

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Thus may we fee, quoth he, how the world wags;
'Tis but an hour ago fince it was nine,
And after one hour more 'twill be eleven;

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And fo from hour to hour we ripe and ripe,
And then from hour to hour we rot and rot,
And thereby hangs a tale. When I did hear
The motley fool thus moral on the time,
My lungs began to crow like chanticleer,
That fools fhould be fo deep contemplative :
And I did laugh fans intermiffion,
An hour by his dial. O noble fool,
A worthy fool! motley's the only wear.
Duke Sen. What fool is this?

Faq. O worthy fool! one that hath been a courtier,
And fays, if ladies be but young and fair,

They have the gift to know it: and in his brain,
Which is as dry as the remainder bifket
After a voyage, he hath ftrange places cram'd
With obfervation, the which he vents
In mangled forms. O that I were a fool!
I am ambitious for a motley coat.

Duke Sen. Thou shalt have one.

Jaq. It is my only fuit;

Provided that you weed your better judgments
Of all opinion that grows rank in them,
That I am wife. I muft have liberty
Withal, as large a charter as the wind,
To blow on whom I please, for fo fools have;
And they that are most gauled with my folly,
They moft muft laugh: and why, Sir, muft they fo?
The why is plain, as way to parifh church ;-
He, whom a fool doth very wifely hit,
Doth very foolishly, although he smart,
Not to feem fenfelefs of the bob. If not,
The wife man's folly is anatomiz'd
Even by the fquand'ring glances of a fool.
Inveft me in my motley, give me leave

To fpeak my mind, and I will through and through
Cleanfe the foul body of th' infected world,

If they will patiently receive my medicine.

Duke Sen. Fie on thee, I can tell what thou wouldst do. Jaq. What, for a counter, would I do but good? Duke Sen, Moft mischievous foul fin, in chiding fin:


For thou thy felf haft been a libertine,
As fenfual as the brutish fting it felf;
And all th' emboffed fores and headed evils,
That thou with licenfe of free foot haft caught,
Would't thou difgorge into the general world.
Jaq. Why, who cries out on pride,
That can therein tax any private party?
Doth it not flow as hugely as the fea,"
"Till that the very very means do ebb?
What woman in the city do I name,
When that I fay the city-woman bears
The coft of princes on unworthy fhoulders?
Who can come in, and say that I mean her,
When fuch a one as fhe, fuch is her neighbour?
Or what is he of bafeft function,

That fays his bravery is not on my coft
Thinking that I mean him, but therein futes
His folly to the mettle of my fpeech?

There then; how then? let me then fee wherein
My tongue hath wrong'd him; if it do him right,
Then he hath wrong'd himself; if he be free,
Why then my taxing like a wild goofe flies
Unclaim'd of any man. But who comes here?

Enter Orlando, with bis fword drawn.

Orla. Forbear, and eat no more.

Jaq. Why, I have eat none yet.

Orla. Nor fhalt not, 'till neceffity be serv'd.

Jaq. Of what kind fhould this cock come?

Duke Sen. Art thou thus bolden'd, man, by thy diftrefs?

Or elfe a rude defpifer of good manners,

That in civility thou feem'ft fo empty?

Orla. You touch'd my vein at firft; the thorny point
Of bare diftrefs hath ta'en from me the fhew

Of smooth civility; yet am I in-land bred,
And know fome nurture: but forbear, I fay:
He dies that touches any of this fruit,
'Till I and my affairs are anfwered.
Jaq. If you will not

Be answered with reason, I muft die.


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