Aunt. So we do, and so will you always, if you marry your cousin Humphrey.

Niece. Name not the creature.

Aunt. Creature! What, your own cousin a creature!

Niece. Oh, let's be going. I see yonder another creature that does my uncle's law business, and has, I believe, made ready the deeds, those barbarous deeds.

Aunt. What! Mr. Pounce, a creature, too! Nay, you'll learn more wit from him in an hour, than in a thousand of your foolish books in a year.

[Exeunt.

Notwithstanding its want of plot and action, Shakespeare's As You Like It is one of the most charming plays ever written. It is the very essence of romantic poetry. We have selected for your entertainment, some of the most pleasing passages of the Second Act, in which the banished duke and his friends in exile are represented losing "the creeping hours of time" in the Forest of Arden. Nothing sweeter," says Taine, "than this mixture of tender compassion, dreamy philosophy, delicate sadness, poetical complaints, and rustic songs." The interest of our play depends almost entirely upon the wit and beauty of the speeches, not upon stage effects or startling declamation. Particular attention is called to the character of the melancholy

Jaques, his description of the "fool i' th' forest," and of the "seven ages seven ages" of man. These two noted speeches, and that descriptive of the wounded deer, are the principal gems in this cluster of poetic jewels.

SCENE I:-The Forest of Arden. Enter DUKE, AMIENS, and two or three LORDS, in the dress of Foresters, L.

Duke. (c.) Now, my co-mates, and brothers in exile,

Hath not old custom made this life more sweet
Than that of painted pomp? Are not these woods
More free from peril than the envious Court?
Here feel we but the penalty of Adam—
The seasons' difference; as, the icy fang
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 adversity,

Which, like the toad, ugly and venomous,

Wears yet a precious jewel in his head;

And this our life, exempt from public haunt,

Finds tongues in trees, books in the running brooks, Sermons in stones, and good in every thing:

I would not change it.

Amiens. (R.)

Happy is your Grace

That can translate the stubbornness of fortune Into so quiet, and so sweet a style.

Duke. Come, 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 haunches gored.

1st Lord. (L.)

Indeed, my lord,

The melancholy Jaques grieves at that;

And, in that kind, swears you do more usurp

Than doth your brother that hath banished 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 sequestered stag,
That from the hunter's aim had ta'en a hurt,
Did come to languish; and, indeed, my lord,
The wretched animal heaved forth such groans
That their discharge did stretch his leathern coat
Almost to bursting; and the big round tears
Coursed one another down his innocent nose
In piteous chase: and thus the hairy fool,
Much marked of the melancholy Jaques,

Stood on the extremest verge of the swift brook,
Augmenting it with tears.

Duke.

But what said Jaques ?

Did he not moralize this spectacle?

1st Lord. O yes, into a thousand similes.

First, for his weeping into th' needless stream;
"Poor deer," quoth he, "thou mak'st a testament
As worldlings do, giving thy sum of more

To that which had too much." Then, being there alone,

Left and abandoned of his velvet friends;

""Tis right," quoth he; "thus misery doth part The flux of company." Anon, a careless herd, Full of the pasture, jumps along by him,

66

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 he pierceth through
The body of the country, city, court,
Yea, and of this our life: swearing that we
Are mere usurpers, tyrants, and what's worse,
To fright the animals, and to kill them up
In their assigned and native dwelling-place.
Duke. And did you leave him in this contempla-
tion?

2d Lord. We did, my lord, weeping and com

menting

Upon the sobbing deer.

Duke.

Show me the place;

I love to cope him in these sullen fits,

For then he's full of matter.

1st Lord. I'll bring you to him straight.

[Exeunt, L.