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This moment I beheld him leaning with his head against his Crook with pileous &

And churlish chiding of the winter's wind;
Which, when it bites and blows upon my body,
Even till I fhrink with cold, I fmile, and fay,
This is no flattery; thefe 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 :

1

And this our life, exempt from public haunt,
Finds tongues in trees, books in the running brooks,
Sermons in ftones, and good in every thing.

-Come, fhall we go, and kill us venison?
And yet it irks me, the poor dappled fools,
Being native burghers of this defert city,

Should, in their own confines, with forked heads, Have their round haunches gor'd.

LORD. Indeed, my lord,

you

The melancholy Jaques grieves much at that;
And in that kind fwears you do more ufurp
Than doth your brother that hath banish'd
To-day my lord of Amiens and myself,
Did fleal behind him as he lay along
Under an oak, whofe antique root peeps out
Upon the brook that brawls along this wood;
To the which place a poor fequefter'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 fuch groans,
That their discharge did stretch his leathren coat
Almoit to bursting; and the big round tears
Cours'd one another down his innocent nofe
In piteous chafe; and thus the airy fool,
Much marked of the melancholy Jaques,
Stood on th' extremeft verge of the iwift brook,
Augmenting it with tears.

DUKE. But what faid Jaques ?

Did he not moralize this spectacle?

LORD. O yes, into a thousand fimilies,
Firft, for his weeping in the needless stream;
Poor deer, quoth he, thou mak’st a testament
As worldlings do, giving thy fum 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 mifery doth part
The flux of company. Anon a careless herd,
Full of the pafture, jumps along by him,
And never flays 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 moft invectively he pierceth through
The body of the country, city, court,
Yea, and of this our life, fwearing that we
Are mere ufurpers, tyrants, and what's worse,
To fright the animals, and to kill them up
In their affigned 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 strait.

SHAKSPEARE.

CHAPTER X.

DUKE AND JAQUES

DUKE. 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' forest, A motley fool; a miferable varlet!

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

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

In good set 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 wifely, 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 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
This 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. What fool is this?

JAQ. 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-bisket

After a voyage, he hath ftrange places cramm'd
With obfervations, the which he vents
In mangled forms. O 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 judgments

Of all opinion, that grows rank in them,
That I am wife. I must have liberty
Withal, as large a charter as the wind,

To blow on whom I please; for fo fools have,
And they that are moft galled with my folly

They most muft laugh. And why, Sir, muft they fo?
The way is plain, as way to parish-church;

He whom a fool does 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 fool body of this infected world,

If they will patiently receive my medicine.

DUKE. Fie on thee! I can tell what thou would't do. JAQ. What, for a counter, would I do but good? DUKE. Moft mifchievous foul fin, in chiding fin; For thou thyfelf haft been a libertine,

And all th' emboffed fores and headed evils,
That thou with licence 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 means do ebb?
What woman in the city do I name,
When that I fay, the city-woman bears
The cost of princes on unworthy shoulders?

Who can come in, and fay, that I mean her;
When fuch a one as the, 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 suits

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