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This moment I beheld him teaning with his head against his Crock with pileois lc!
And churlish chiding of the winter's wind;
Which, when it bites and blows upon my body,
Even till I shrink with cold, I smile, and say,
This is no flattery; these are counsellors,
That feelingly persuade me what I am.
Sweet are the uses of adverfity,
Which, like the toad, ugly and venomous,
Wears yet a precious jewel in his head :
And this our life, everpt from public haunt,
Finds tongues in trees, books in the running brooks,
Sermons in itones, and good in every thing.
-Coine, shall we go, and kill us venison?
And yet it irks me, the poor dappled fools,
Being native burghers of this desert city,
Should, in their own confines, with forked heads,
Have their round hraunches gor'do
LO'RD, Indeed, my lord,
The melancholy Jaques grieves much at that;
And in that kind swears you do more ufurp
Than doth your brother that hath banish'd you
To-day my lord of Amiens and myself,
Did steal behind him as he lay along
Under an oak, whose antique root peeps out
Upon the brook that brawls along this wood;
To the which place a poor sequefter'd stag,
That from the hunter's aim had ta’en a hurt,
Did come to languish; and, indeed, my lord,
The wretched animal heav'd forth such groans,
That their discharge did stretch his leathren coat
Almoit to buriling; and the big round tears
Cours'd one another down his innocent nore
In piteous chafe; and thus the airy fool,
Much marked of the melancholy Jaques,
Stood on th' extremett verge of the iwift brook,
Augmenting it with tears.
Duke. But what said Jaques ?
Did he not moralize this spectacle ?
LORD, O yes, into a thousand fimilies,
First, for his weeping in the needless stream;
Poor deer, quoth he, thou mak'f a testament
As worldlings do, giving thy sum of more
To that which had too much. Then being alone,
Left and abandon'd of his velvet friend's;
'Tis right, quoth he, thus misery doth part
The flux of company. Anon a careless herd,
Full of the pasture, jumps along by him,
And never stays to greet him : Ay, quoth Jaques,
Sweep on, you fat and greasy citizens,
'Tis just the fashion : wherefore do you look
Upon that poor and broken bankrupt there?
Thus most invectively be pierceth through
The body of the country, city, court,
Yea, and of this our life, swearing that we
Are mere ufurpers, tyrants, and what's worfen
To fright the animals, and to kill them up
In their assigned and native dwelling place:
Duke. And did you leave him in this contemplation
LORD. We did, my lord, weeping and commenting
Upon the fobbing deer.
Duke. Show me the place;
I love to cope him in these sullen fits,
For then he's full of matter.
LORD. I'll bring you to him ftrait.
DUKE AND JAQUES
Duke. Why, how now, Monsieur, what a life is this,
That your poor friends muft woo your company !
What! you look merrily.
JAQ. A fool, a fool ;-I met a fool i' th' forest,
A motley fool; a miserable varlet !
As I do live by food, I met a fool,
Who laid him down and bask'd him in the sun,
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 sent me fortune;
And then he drew a dial from his poke,
And looking on it with lack-luftre eye,
Says, very wisely, It is ten o'clock:
Thus may we see, quoth he, how the world wags :
'Tis but an hour ago fince it was nine,
And after one hour more 'twill be eleven ;
And so 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
This motley fool thus moral on the time,
My lungs began to crow like chanticleer,
That fools fhould be so deep contemplative:
And I did laugh fans intermiflion,
An hour by his dial. O noble fool,
A worthy fool! motley's the only wear.
Duke. What fool is this?
Jáq. O worthy fool! one that hath been a courtier., And says, 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-bilket After a voyage, he hath ftrange places cramm'a With observations, the which he vents In mangled forms.' () that I were a fool! I am ambitious for a motley coat.
Duke. Thou shalt have one.
JAQ. It is my only fuit;
Provided that you weed your better judgmente
Of all opinion, that grows rank in them,
That I am wise. I must have liberty
Withal, as large a charter as the wind,
To blow on whom I please; for so fools have,
And they that are most galled with my folly
They most must laugh. And why, Sir, must they fa?
The way is plain, as way to parish-church;
He whom a fool does very wisely hit,
Doth very foolishly, although he smart,
Not to seem senseless of the bob. If not,
The wise man's folly is anatomiz'd,
Even by the fquand'ring glances of a fool.
Invest me in my motley, give me leave
To speak my mind, and I will through and through
Cleanse the fool body of this infected world,
If they will patiently receive my medicine.
Duke. Fie on thee ! I can tell what thou would'It do
JAQ. What, for a counter, would I do but good ?
Duke. Most mischievous foul fin, in chiding fin;
For thou thyself haft been a libertine,
And all th' embossed sores and headed evils,
That thou with licence of free foot haft caught,
Would'st thou disgorge 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 sea,
Till that the very means do ebb?
What woman in the city do I name,
When that I say, the city-woman bears
The cost of princes on unworthy shoulders ?
Who can come in, and say, that I mean her ;
When such a one as she, such is her neighbour ?
Or what is hie of baseft function,
That says his bravery is not on my cost;
Thinking, that I mean him, but therein suits