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$ 2. AS YOU LIKE IT. SHAKSPEARE. And yet it irks me, the poor dappled fools, Playfellow.
Being native burghers of this desert city, We have still slept together;
[ther; Should in their old confines, with forked heads, Rose at an instant; learn'd, play'd, eat toge- Have their round haunches gored. And wheresoe'er we went, like Juno's swans, 1st Lord. Indeed, my lord, Still we went coupled, and inseparable. The melancholy Jaques grieves at that; Fond youthful Friendship..
And, in that kind swears, you do more usurp Celia. O my poor Rosalind, whither wilt Than doth your brother who hath banish'd you,
[mine. To-day my lord of Amiens and myself, Wilt thou change fathers ? I will give thee Did steal behind bim, as he lay along I charge thee, be not thou more griev'd than Under an oak, whose antique roots peep out
Rosalind. I have more cause. [I am. Upon the brook that brawls along this wood : Celia. Thou hast not, cousin. [Duke To the which place a poor sequester'd stag, Prythee be cheerful: know'st thou not, the That from the hunter's aim had ta'en a hurt, Has banish'd me, his daughter?
Did come to languish: and, indeed, my lord, Rosalind. That he hath not. [the love The wretched animal heav'd forth such groans, Celia. No? hath not? Rosalind lacks then That their discharge did stretch his leathern Which teacheth me that thou and I are one:
coat Shall we be sundered ? Shall we part, sweet Almost to bursting; and the big round tears No, let my father seek another heir. [girl? Cours'd one another down his innocent nose Therefore devise with me how we may fly, In piteous chase; and thus the hairy fool, Whither to go, and what to bear with us: Much marked of the melancholy Jaques, And do not seek to take your change upon you, Stood on th' extremest verge of the swift brook To bear your griefs yourself, and leave ine out: Augmenting it with tears. For by this heaven, now at our sorrows pale, Duke s. But what said Jaques ? Say what thou canst, I'll go along with thee. Did he not moralize this spectacle? Beauty.
Ist Lord. O yes, into a thousand similes. Beauty provoketh thieves sooner than gold. First, for his weeping in the needless stream, Woman in a Man's Dress.
Poor deer, quoth he, thou mak'st a testament Wer't not better,
As worldlings do, giving thy sum of more Because that I am more than common tall, To that which had too much. Then, being That I did suit me all points like a man?
alone, A gallant curtle-axe upon my thigh,
Left and abandon’d of his velvet friends ; A boar-spear in my hand, and (in my heart, "Tis right, quoth he; thus misery doth part Lie there what hidden woman's fears there The flux of company. Anon, a careless herd, will)
Full of the pasture, jumps along by him, I'll have a swashing and a martial outside; And never stays to greet him: Ah, quoth As many other mannish cowards have,
Jaques, That do outface it with their semblances. Sweep on, you fat and greasy citizens ; Solitude preferred to a Court Life, and the 'Tis just the fashion; wherefore do you look Advantages of Adversity.
Upon that poor and broken bankrupt there? Now, my co-mates and brothers in exile, Thus most invectively he pierceth through Hath not old custom made this life more sweet The body of the country, city, court, Than that of painted pomp? Are not these Yea, and of this our life; swearing that we woods
Are mere usurpers, tyrants, and what's worse, More free from peril than the envious court? To fright the animals, and kill them up, Here feel we but the penalty of Adam, In their assign'd and native dwelling-place. The season's difference; as the icy fang, D. S. And did you leave him in this conAnd churlish chiding of the winter's wind;
[menting Which, when it bites and blows upon my body, Amicns. We did, my lord, weeping and comEven till 1 shrink with cold, I smile and say, Upon the sobbing deer. “This is no flattery;" these are counsellors, D. s. Shew me the place; That feelingly persuade me what I am. I love to cope him in these sullen fits, Sweet are the uses of adversity,
For then he is full of matter. Which, like the toad, ugly and venomous, Conspicuous Virtue exposed to Envy. Wears yet a precious jewel in his head :
Adam. What! my young master? O my And this our life, exempt from public haunt, gentle master, Finds tongues in trees, books in the running O my sweet master! O you mem
Of old Şir Rowland! why what make you here? Sermons in stones, and good in every thing. Why are you virtuous ? Why do people love I would not change it!
[liant? Amiens. Happy is your grace,
And wherefore are you gentle, strong, and vaThat can translate the stubbornness of fortune Why would you be so fond to overcome Ipto so quiet and so sweet a style!
The bony priser of the humorous duke? Reflections on a wounded Siag, and on the Your praise is come too swiftly home before you. melancholy Jaques.
Know you not, master, to some kind of men Come, shall we go and kill os venison? Thoir graces serve them but as enemies ?
No more do yours ; your virtues, gentle master, Who laid him down, and bask'd him in the sun,
• Good-morrow, sool,' quothl: .No, Sir,'quoth Resolved Honesty.
[fortune.' Orlando. What, wouldst thou have me goCall me not fool, till Heaven hath sent me and beg my food?
And then he drew a dial fronı his poke, Or with a base and boisterous sword enforce And looking on it with lack-lustre eye, A thievish living on the common road? Says, very wisely, 'It is ten o'clock: [wags : This I must do, or know not what to do • Thus we may see' quoth he, how the world Yet this I will not do, do how I can; • 'Tis but an hour ago since it was nine : I rather will subject me to the malice
• And after one hour more 'twill be eleven : Of a diverted blood, and bloody brother. • And so from hour to hour we ripe and ripe, Gratitude in an old Servant.
• And then from hour to hour we rot and rot, Adam. But do not so; I have five hundred . And thereby hangs a tale' When I did hear crowns,
The motley fool thus moral on the time, The thrifty hire I sav'd under your father, My lungs began to crow like chanticleer, Which I did store, to be my fóster nurse That fools should be so deep contemplative: When service should in my old limbs lie lame, and I did laugh, sans interinission, And unregarded age in corners thrown. An hour by his dial. Take that; and He that doth the ravens feed, Duke. What fool is this? (courtier ; Yea, providently caters for the sparrow,
Jaques. O worthy fool! one that had been Be comfort to my age! Here is the gold;
if ladies be but young and fair,
After a voyage, he hath strange places cramma Hot and rebellious liquors in my blood; With observation, the which he vents Nor did I with unbashful forehead woo In mangled formis. Oh that I were a fool! The means of weakness and debility : I am ambitious for a motley coat ! Therefore my age is as a lusty winter,
A Fool's Liberty of Speech. Frosty but kindly. Let me go with you,
Duke. Thou shalt have one. I'll do the service of a younger man,
Jaques. It is my only suit: In all your business and necessities. Cappears Provided that you weed your better judgements
Orlando. Ob! good old man, how well in the Of all opinion, that grows rank in them, The constant service of the antique world, That I am wise. I inust have liberty When servants sweat for duty not for meed ! Withal; as large a charter as the wind, 'Thou art not for the fashion of these times, To blow on whom I please; for so fools have : Where none will stveat but for promotion ; And they that are most galled with my folly, And, having that, do choak their service up, They most must laugh. And why, sir, must Even with the having. It is not so with thee- they so? But, poor old man, thou prun'st a rotten tree, The why is plain as way to parish-church : Thes cannot so much as a blossonı yield, He, whóin a fool doth very wisely hit, In lieu of all thy pains and husbandry. Doth very foolishly, although he smart, But come thy ways, we'll go along together, Not to seem senseless of the bob. If not, And ere we have thy youthful wages spent, The wise man's folly is anatomiz'd We'll light upon soine settled low content. Even by the squandering glances of the fool.
Adam. Master, go on; and I will follow thee, Invest ine in my motley; give me leave (through To the last gasp, with truth and loyalıy- To speak my mind, and I will through and From seventeen years till now almost fourscore Cleanse the foul body of th' infected world, Here lived I, but now live here no more. If they will patiently receive my medicine. At seventeen years many their fortunes seek, Duke. Fie on thee I can tell thee wbat But at fourscore it is too late a week;
thou wouldst do.
[but good! Yet fortune cannot recompense me better Jaques. What, for a counter, would I do Than to die well and not my inaster's debtor. Duke. Most mischievous foul sin in chiding Lover described.
For thou thyself hast been a libertine, (sin; Oh thou didst then pe'er love so heartily. As sensual as the brutish sting itself: If thou remember’st not the slightest folly And all th' imbossed sores and headed evils, That ever love did make thee run into
That thou with licence of freefoot hast caught, Thou hast not lov'de
Wouldst thou disgorge into the general world. Or if thou hast not sate as I do now,
An Apology for Satire.
That can therein tax any prirate party?
What woman in the city do I name, Description of a Fool, and his Morals on the Time. When that I say, the city woman bears Jaques. As I do live by food, I met a fool; | The cost of prioces on unworthy shoulders ?
Who can come in and say that I mean her, Seeking the bubble reputation (justice, When such a one as she, such is her neighbour? Even in the cannon's mouth. And then the Or what is he of basest function,
In fair round belly with good capon lind, That says, his bravery is not on my cost; With eyes severe, and beard of formal cut (Thinking that I mean him) but therein suits Full of wise saws and modern instances, His folly to the metal of my speech. [wherein Aud so he plays his part. The sixth age shifts There then, how then? What then? let me see Into the lean and slipper'd pantaloon, My tongue hath wronged him. If it do him with spectacles on 's nose and pouch on's side: right,
His youthful hose, well sav'd, a world 100 wide Then he hath wrong'd himself. If he be free, For his shrunk shanks; and his big manly voice, Why, then, my taxing, like a wild goose, Aies Turning again towards childish treble, pipes Unclaim'd of any man.
And whistles in his sound. Last scene of all, Distress prevents Ceremony. That ends this strange eventful history,
The thorny point Is second childishness, and mere oblivion,
Ingratitude. A Song.
Blow, blow, thou winter-wind,
Thou art not so unkind
As man's ingratitude: And therefore put I on the countenance
Thy tooth is not so keen, Of stern commandment. But whate'er you are,
Because thou art not seen, That in this desert inaccessible,
Although thy breath be rude. Under the shade of melancholy boughs,
Freeze, freeze, thou bitter sky, Lose and neglect the creeping hours of time;
Thou dost not bite so nigh
As benefits forgot :
Tho' thou the waters warp,
Thy sting is not so sharp
As friend remember'd not. And know what 'tis to pity and be pitied
Sylvius. Let gentleness my strong enforcement be;
The common executioner, Jo the which hope I blush and hide my sword. Whose heart th'accustom'd sight of death makes
Duke. True it is that we have seen beiter days, Falls not the axe upon the humble neck,
But first begs pardon : will you sterner be And sat at good men's feasts: and wip'd our eyes
Than he that dies and lives by bloody drops ? Of drops that sacred pity hath engender'd :
Phæbe. I would not be thy executioner: And therefore sit you down in gentleness,
I fly thee, for I would not injure thee. And take upon command what help we have, Thou tell'st me there is murder in mine eye ; That to your wanting may be minister'd [while, Tis pretty, sure, and very probable,
Orlando. Then but forbear your food a little That eyes, that are the frail'st and softest things, Whiles, like a doe, I go to find my fawn,
Who shut their coward gates on atomies, And give it food. There is an old poor man,
Should be call'd tyrants, butchers, murderers ! Who after me hath many a weary step
Now I do frown on thee with all my heart; Limp'd in pare love; till he be first suffic'd, And, if mine eyes can wound, now let thein Oppress'd with two weak evils, age and hunger, Now counterfeit to swoon : why now fall down;
kill thee: I will not touch a bit! The World compared to a Stage.
Or, if thou canst not, (), for shame, for shame, Thou see'st we are not all alone unhappy
Lie not, to say mine eyes are murderers. (thee. This wide and universal theatre
Now show the wound mine eye hath made in Presents more woful pageants than the scene
Scratch thee but with a pin, and there remains Wherein we play.
Some scar of it: lean but upon a rush, Jaques. All the world's a stage,
The cicatrice and capable impressure [eyes, And all the men and women merely players :
Thy palm some moment keeps but now mine They have their exits and their entrances;
Which I have darted at thee, hurt thee not; And one man in his time plays many parts,
Now, I am sure, there is no force in eyes
O dear Phæbe, And then the whining school-boy, with his If ever (as that ever may be near) [fancy, satchel
You meet in some fresh cheek the power of And shining morning face, creeping like snail | Then shall you know the wounds invisible Unwillingly to school. And then the lover,
That Love's keen arrows make. Sighing like furnace, with a woful ballad
Scorn retorted. Made to his mistress's eye-brow. Then the
Od's my little life! soldier,
I think she means to tangle mine eyes too. Full of strange oaths, and bearded like the pard, No, 'faith, proud mistress: hope uot after it. Jealous in honor, sudden and quick in quarrel, l 'Tis not your inky brows your black silk hair,
Your bugle eye-balls, nor your cheek of creain, And with intended glides did slip away
Lay couching, head on ground, with cat-like
I do not shame 'Tis not her glass, but you that flatters her ;
To tell you what I was, since my conversion
So sweetly tastes, being the thing I am.
Phæbe. Good shepherd, tell this youth what And thank Heaven, fasting, for a good man's
'tis to love.
(tears ; For I must tell you friendly in your ear, slove:
Sylvius. It is to be all made of sighs and
All made of passion, and all made of wishes :
All adoration, duty, and observance :
All humbleness, all patience and impatience :
All purity, all trial, all observánce.
Duke. Dost thou believe, Orlando, that the
Orlando. I sometimes do believe, and some-
Song. On Matrimony.
Wedding is great Juno's crown; It is a pretty youth ;--not very pretty ;
O blessed bond of board and bed ! But sure he's proud: and yet his pride becomes
'Tis Hymen peoples every town, him : He'll make a proper man: the best thing in him
High wedlock' then be honored :
Honor, high honor and renown,
To Hymen, god of every town!
$3. THE COMEDY OF ERRORS. His leg is but so so : and yet 'tis well:
Child-bearing prettily expressed.
Herself almost at fainting under difference
The pleasing punishment that women bear. Betwixt the constant red and mingled damask.
Cheats well described.
As nimble jugglers that deceive the eye,
· Man's Pre-eminence He said mine eyes were black, and my hair black;
Why head-strong liberty is lash'd with woe,
There's nothing situate under Heaven's eye,
But hath its bound, in earth, in sea, in sky; A fine Description of a sleeping Man, about to
Are their males' subjects, and at their controuls. be destroyed by a Snake and a Lioness. Under an oak, whose boughs were mossd Men, more divine, the master of all these,
Lords of the wide world, and wild wat'ry seas,
Indued with intellectual sense and souls,
Of more pre-eminence than fish or fowls,
Then let your will attend on their accords. Who with her head, nimble in threats, ap- Patience easier taught than practised. proach'd
Patience unmov'd, no niarvel though she The opening of his mouth; but suddenly
pause ; Secing Orlando, it unlink'd itself,
They can be meek, that have no other cause,
For ever hous'd where it once gets possession.
Document for Wives, and the ill Effects of
wreck at sea ?
Stray'd his affection in unlawful love?
Which of these sorrows is he subject to?
Adriana. To none of these, except it be the That never words were music to thine ear,
last; That never object pleasing in thine eye,
Namely, some love that drew him off from
home. That never touch well welcome to thine hand,
[ed him. That never meat sweet savor'd in thy taste,
Albess. You should for that have reprehen)l'nless I spake, or look’d, or touch'd, or carv'd
Adriana. Why so I did. to thee.
Abbess. But not rough enough. [let me.
Adriana. As roughly as my modesty would
Albess. Haply in private.
Adriana. And in assemblies too.
Abless. But not enough.
Adriana. It was the copy of our conference;
Jo bed, he slept not for my urging it;
At board, he fed not for my urging it;
Alone, it was the subject of my theme:
In company, I often glanced at it:
Still did I tell him it was vile and bad.
Abless. And therefore came it that the man
Poison more deadly than a mad-dog's tooth.
And therefore comes it that his head is light.
Unquiet meals make ill digestions, [braidings;
Thereof the raging fire of fever bred;
Sweet recreation barr’d, what doth ensue
But moody and dull melancholy,
Kinsman to grim and comfortless despair?
And, at her heels, a huge infectious troop
Of pale distemperatures and foes to life.
Ill Deeds and ill Words doulle Wrong:
'Tis double wrong to truant with your bed, Herein you war against your reputation,
And let her read it in your looks at board : And draw within the compass of suspect
Shame hath a bastard fame well managed ; Th* inviolated honor of your wife.
Ill deeds are doubled with an evil word. Once this Your long experience of her wis
Passionate Lover's Address to his Mistress.
Spread o'er the silver waves thy golden hairs.
And in that glorious supposition think
Hegains by death, thai hath such means to die.
A hungry, lean-faced villain,