Abbildungen der Seite

SCENE III. 4 Room in the Paiace.

Cel. Dear sovereign, hear me speak.

Duke F. Ay, Celia; we stay'd her for your sake,

Else had she with her father rany'd along. Cel. Why, cousin; why, Rosalind ;-Cupid,

Cel. I did not then entreat to have her stay, have mercy !--- Not a word?

It was your pleasure, and your own remorse; Pos. Not one to throw at a dog. Cel. No, thy words are too precious to be cast

I was too young that tinie to value her, away upon curs, throw some of them at me; Why so am I; we still have slept together,

But now I know her; if she be a traitor, come, lame me with reasons. Pos. Then there were two cousins laid up; And wheresoe'er we went, like Juno's swans,

Rose at an instant, learn'd, play'd, eat together: when the one should be lamed with reasons, and the other mad without any.

Still we went coupled, and inseparable,

Duke F. She is too subtle for thee; and her Cel. But is all this for your father? Ros. No some of it for my child's father.0. Her very silence, and her patience,

smoothness, how full of briars is this working-day world! Cel. They are but burs, cousin, thrown upon Thou art a fool: 'shé robs thee of thy name;

Speak to the people, and they pity her. thee in holiday foolery; if we walk not in the And thou wilt show more bright, and seem more trodden paths, our very petticoats will catch

virtuous, them.

[burs are in my heart. When she is gone: then open not thy lips ; Ros. I could shake them off my coat; these Firm and irrevocable is my doom Cel. Hem them away.

[him. Which I have pass d upon her; she is banish J. Ros. I would try: if I could cry hem, and have

Cel. Pronounce that sentence then on me, my Cel. Come, come, wrestle with thy affections. I cannot live out of her company. (liego : Ros. O, they take the part of a better wrestler

Duke F. You are a fool:-You, niece, provide than myself. Cel. O, a good wish upon you! you will try If you out-stay the time, upon mine honour,

yourself; in time, in despite of a fall.- But, turning these And in the greatness of my word, you die. jests out of service, let us talk in good earnest:

[Exeunt DUKE FREDERICK and Lords. Is it possible, on such a sudden, you should fall

Cil. O my poor Rosalind! whither wilt thou into so strong #liking with old Sir Rowland's

go? youngest son ?

[dearly. Wilt thou change fathers? I will give thee mine. Ros. The duke my father lov'd his father I charge thee, be not thou more griev'd than I am. Cel. Doth it therefore ensue, that you should

Ros. I have more cause. love his son dearly? By this kind of chase, I


Thou hast not, cousin : should hate him, for my father hated his father Pr’ythee, be cheerful: know'st thou not, the dearly; yet I hate not Orlando.

Hath banish'd me, his daughter? duke Ros. No 'faith, hate him not, for my sake.


That he hath not. Cel. Why should I not? doth he not deserve

Cel. No? hath not? Rosalind lacks then the Well ?

love Pos. Let me love him for that; and do you Which teacheth thee that thou and I am one: love him, because I do:-Look, here comes the Shall we be sunder'd? shall we part, sweet girl ? duke.

No; let my father seek another heir. Cd. With his eyes full of anger.

Therefore, devise with me, how we may fly, Enter DUKE FREDERICK, with Lords. Whither to go, and what to bear with us : Drike F. Mistress, dispatch you with your safest And do not seek to take your change upon you, And get you from our court.

[haste, To bear your griefs yourself, and leave me out; kos.

Me, uncle ?

For, by this heaven, now at onr sorrows pale, Dhike F.

You, cousin; Say what thou canst, I'll go along with thee. Within these ten days if that thou be'st found Ros. Why, whither shall we go? So near our public court as twenty miles, Cel. To seek my uncle in the forest of Arden, Thou diest for it.

Ros. Alas, what danger will it be to us, Ros.

I do beseech your grace, Maids as we are, to travel forth so far? Let me the knowledge of my fault bear with me; Beauty provoketh thieves sooner than gold. If with myself I hold intelligence,

Cel. I'll put myself in poor and mean attire, Or have acquaintance with mine own desires; And with a kind of umber smirch my face ; If that I do not dream, or be not frantic, The like do you; so shall we pass along, (As I do trust I am not,) then, dear uncle, And never stir assailants. Never, so much as in a thought unborn,


Were it not better, Did I offend your highness.

Because that I am more than common tull, Duke F

Thus do all traitors; That I did suit me all points like a man? If their purgation did consist in words, A gallant curtle-axe upon my thigh, They are as innocent as grace itself :

A boar-spear in my hand; and (in my heart Let it suffice thee, that I trust thee not. Lie there what hidden woman's fear there will) Ros. Yet your mistrust cannot make me a We'll have a swashing and a martial outside; traitor;

As many other mannish cowards have, Tell me, whereon the likelihood depends. That do outface it with their semblances. Duket, Thou art thy father's daughter, there's Cel. What shall I call thee, when thou art a enough. (dukedom; man?

(own paye, Ros. So was I, when your highness took his Ros. I'll have no worse a name than Jove's So was I, when your highness banish'd him: And therefore, look you, call me Ganymede. Treason is not inherited, my lord;

But what will you be call'd ? Or, if we did derive it from our friends,

Cel. Something that hath a reference to my What's that to me? my father was no traitor : No longer Celia, but Aliena.

[state; Then, good my liege, mistake me not so much, Ros. But, cousin, what if we assay'd to steal To think my poverty is treacherous.

The clownish fool out of your father's court?

Would he not be a comfort to our travel? [me; Full of the pasture, jamps along by him,

Cel. He'll go along o'er the wide world with And never stays to greet him; Ay, quoth Jaques, Leave me alone to woo him : Let's away, Sweep on, you fat and greasy citizens ; And get our jewels and our wealth together; 'Tis just the fashion : Wherefore do you look Devise the fittest time and safest way

Upon that poor and broken bankrupt there?
To hide us from pursuit that will be made Thus most invectively he pierceth through
After my flight: Now go we in content The body of country, city, court,
To liberty, and not to banishment. (Exeunt. 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 assign'd and native dwelling-place.
Art berond.

Duke 8. And did you leave him in this con

templation? SCENE I. The Forest of Arden.

2 Lord. We did, my lord, weeping and comUpon the sobbing deer.

[menting Enter Duke senior, AMIENS, and other Lords, in Duke S.

Show me the place; the dress of Foresters.

I love to cope him in these sullen fits, Duke S. Now my co-mates, and brothers in For then he's full of matter. exile,

2 Lord. I'll bring you to him straight. Hath not old custom made this life more sweet

[Exeunt. Than that of painted pomp? Are not these woods More free from peril than the envious court?

SCENE II. A Room in the Palace. Here feel we but the penalty of Adam, Enter DUKE FREDERICK, Lords, and Attendants. The seasons' difference; as, the icy fang, Duke F. Can it be possible that no man saw Ard churlish chiding of the winter's wind,

them? Which when it bites and blows upon my body, It cannot be: some villains of my court Even till I shrink with cold, I smile, and say,- Are of consent and sufferance in this. This is no flattery; these are counsellors 1 Lord. I cannot hear of any that did see her. That feelingly persuade me what am.

The ladies, her attendants of her chamber, Sweet are the uses of adversity;

Saw her a-bed : and in the morning early,. Which, like the toad, ugly and venomous, They found the bed untreasur'd of their misWears yet a precious jewel in his head;


[so oft And this our life, exempt from public haunt, 2 Lord. My lord, the roynish clown, at whom Finds tongues in trees, books in the running Your grace was wont to laugh, is also missing. brooks,

Hesperia, the princess' gentlewoman, Sermons in stones, and good in every thing. Confesses, that she secretly o'erheard Ami. I would not change it: Happy is your Your daughter and her cousin much commend grace,

The parts and graces of the wrestler That can translate the stubbornness of fortune That did but lately foil the sinewy Charles; Into so quiet and so sweet a style.

And she believes, wherever they are gone, Duke S. Come, shall we go and kill us venison? That youth is surely in their company, And yet it irks me, the poor dabbled fools, Duke F. Send to his brother; fetch that galBeing native burghers of this desert city,

lant hither; Should in their own confines, with forked heads If he be absent, bring his brother to me, Have their round haunches gor'd.

I'll make him find him: do this suddenly; 1 Lord.

Indeed, my lord, And let not search and inquisition quail The melancholy Jaques grieves at that; To bring again these foolish runaways. And, in that kiud, swears yon do more usurp

[Ereunt. Than doth your brother that hath banish'd you. Today, my lord of Amiens, and myself,

SCENE III. Before Oliver's House. Did steal behind him, as he lay along

Enter ORLANDO and Avam, meeting. Under an oak, whose antiqne root peeps out Orl. Who's there? Upon the brook that brawls along this wood: Adam. What! my young master 2-0, my To the which place a poor sequester'd stag,

gentle master, That from the hunter's aim had ta'en a hurt, O, my sweet master, O) yon memory Did come to languish; and, indeed, my lord, of old Sir Rowland! why, what make you here? The wretched animal heav'd forth such groans, Why are you virtuous? Why do people love you? That their discharge did stretch his leathern And wherefore are you gentle, strong, and vacoat

liant ? Almost to bursting; and the big round tears Why would you be so fond to overcome Cours'd one another down his innocent nose The bony prizer of the humorous duke? In piteous chase; and thus the hairy fool, Your praise is come too swiftly home before you, Much marked of the melancholy Jaques, Know you not, master, to some kind of men Stood on the extremest verge of the swift brook, Their graces serve them but as enemies ? Augmenting it with tears.

No more do yours; your virtues, gentle master, Duke S.

But what said Jaques? Are sanctified and holy traitors to you. Did he not moralize this spectacle ?

O, what a world is this, when what is comely 1 Lord. O, yes, into a thousand similes. Envenoms him that bears it! First, for his weeping in the needless stream; Orl. Why, what's the matter? Poor deer, quoth he, thou mak'st a testament


O unhappy youth, As worldlings do, giving thy sum of more Come not within these doors; within this roof To that which had too much: Then being alone, The enemy of all your graces lives : Left and abandon'd of his velvet friends; Your brother-no, no brother: yet the son'Tis right, quoth be : this misery doth part Yet not the son ;-I will not call him son The flux of company : Anon, a careless herd, Of him I was about to call bis father),

my food ?

Hath heard your praises; and this night he you, than bear you; yet I should bear no cross, means

if I did bear you; for, I think, you have no To burn the lodging where you use to lie, money in your purse. And you within it: if he fail of that,

Ros. Well, this is the forest of Arden. He will have other means to cut you off:

Touch. Ay, now am I in Arden: the more I overheard him, and his practices.

fool I : when I was at home, I was in a better This is no place, this house is but a butchery; place; but travellers must be content. Abhor it, fear it, do not enter it.

Ros. Ay, be so, good Touchstone :-Look you, Orl. Why, whither, Adam, wouldst thou have who comes here; a young man, and an old, in me go?

(here. solemu talk. Adam. No matter whither, so you come not

Enter Corix and Silvius. Orl. What wouldst thou have me go and beg Cor. That is the way to make her scorn you still.

Şil. O Corin, that thou knew'st how I do love Or, with a base and boisterous sword, enforce

her! A thievish living on the common road?

Cor. I partly guess; for I have lov'd ere now. This I must do, or know not what to do: Si. No, Corin, being old, thou canst not guess; Yet this I will not do, do how I can;

Though in thy youth thou wast as true a lover I rather will subject me to the malice

As ever sigh'd upon a midnight pillow : Of a diverted blood, and bloody brother. But if thy love were ever like to mine Adam. But do not so: I have five hundred (As sure I think did never man love so), crowns,

How many actions most ridiculous The thrifty hire I sav'd under your father, Hast thou been drawn to by thy fantasy? Which I did store, to be my foster-nurse, Cor. Into a thousand that I have forgotten. When service should in my old limbs lie lame, Sil. O, thou didst then ne'er love so heartily: And unregarded age in corners thrown; If thou remember'st not the slightest folly Take that: and he that doth the ravens feed, That ever love did make thee run into, Yea, providently caters for the sparrow, Thou hast not lov’d: Be comfort to my age! Here is the gold;

Or if thou hast not sat as I do now, All this I give you: Let me be your servant; Wearying thy hearer in thy mistress' praise, Though I look old, yet I am strong and lusty: Thou hast not lov'd: For in my youth I never did apply

Or if thou hast not broke from company, Hot and rebellions liquors in my blood; Abruptly, as my passion now makes me, Nor did not with unbashful forehead woo Thou hast not lov'd: 0 Phebe, Phebe, Phebe! The means of weakness and debility;

(Exit Silvius. Therefore my age is as a lusty winter,

Ros. Alas, poor shepherd ! searching of thy Frosty, but kindly: let me go with you;

wound, I'll do the service of a younger man

I have by hard adventure found mine own. In all your business and necessities.

Touch. And I mine: I remember, when I was Orl. O good old man; how well in thee appears in love, I broke my sword upon a stone, and The constant service of the antique world, bid him take that for coming anight to Jane When service sweat for duty, not for meed ! Smile: and I remember the kissing of her batThou art not for the fashion of these times, let, and the cow's dugs that her pretty chopp'd Where none will sweat, but for promotion; hands had milk'd: and I remember the wooing And having that, do choke their service up of a peascod instead of her, from whom I took Even with the having: it is not so with thee. two cods, and giving her them again, said, But, poor old man, thou prun'st a rotten tree, with weeping tears, Wear these for my sake. We, That cannot so much as a blossom yield, that are true lovers, run into strange capers : In lieu of all thy pains and husbandry : but as all is mortal in nature, so is all nature But come thy ways, we'll go along together; in love mortal in folly.

[of. And ere we have thy youthful wages spent, Ros. Thou speak'st wiser than thou art 'ware We'll light upon some settled low content. Touch. Nay, I shall ne'er be 'ware of mine

Adam. Master, go on, and I will follow thee, own wit till I break my shins against it. To the last gasp, with truth and loyalty

Ros. Jove! Jove! this shepherd's passion From seventeen years till now almost fourscore Is much upon my fashion. Here lived I, but now live here no more.

Touch. And mine; but it grows something At seventeen years many their fortunes seek;

stale with me. But at fourscore it is too late & week;

Cel. I pray you, one of you question yond man, Yet fortune cannot recompense me better,

If he for gold will give us any food; Than to die well, and not my master's debtor. I faint almost to death.

[Eceunt. Touch. Holla; you, clown!

Ros. Peace, fool: he's not thy kinsman. SCENE IV. The Forest of Arden.

Cor. Who calls?
Enter ROSALIND in boy's clothes, CELIA drest like a

Touch. Your betters, sir.
Shepherdess, and TOUCHSTONE,

Cor. Else they are very wretched.
Ros. O Jupiter! how weary are my spirits ! Ros.

Peace, I say :Touch. I care not for my spirits, if my legs Good even to you, friend. were not weary.

Cor. And to you, gentle sir, and to you all. Ros. I could find in my heart to disgrace my Ros. I prythee,shepherd, if that love or gold man's apparel, and to cry like a woman; but Can in this desert place buy entertainment, I must comfort the weaker vessel, as doublet Bring us where we may rest ourselves, and feed: and hose ought to show itself courageous to pet- Here's a young maid with travel much oppressid, ticoat : therefore, courage, good Aliena. And faints for succour. Cel. I pray you, bear with me; I cannot go Cor.

Fair sir, I pity her, D further.

And wish for her sake, more than for mine own, Touch. For my part, I had rather bear with My fortunes were more able to relieve her:

But I am shepherd to another man,

Come hither, come hither, comc hither : And do not sheer the fleeces that I graze;

llere shalt see My master is of churlish disposition,

No enemy,
And little recks to find the way to heaven But winter and rough weather.
By doing deeds of hospitality :

Jaq. I'll give you a verse to this note, that I
Besides, his cote, his flocks, and bounds of feed, made yesterday in despite of my invention.
Are now on sale, and at our sheepcote now, Ami. And I'll sing it.
By reason of his absence, there is nothing Joq. Thus it goes :
That you will feed on: but what is, come see, If it do come to pass,
And in my voice most welcome shall you be.

That any man turn ass, Ros. What is he that shall buy his flock and Learing his wealth and erse, pastire?

A stubborn will to please, Cor. That young swain that you saw here but Ducdame, duclame, ducdame; erewhile,

Here shall he see,
That little cares for buying any thing.

Gross fools as he,
Ros. I pray thee, if it stand with honesty, An if he will come to me
Buy thou the cottage, pasture, and the flock, Ami. What's that duceamet
And thou shalt have to pay for it of 118.

Jag. 'Tis & Greek invocation, to call fools Cel. And we will mend thy wages : I like this into a circle. I'll go sleep if I can; if I cannot, place,

I'll rail against all the first-born of Egypt. And willingly could waste my time in it. Ami. And I'll go seek the duke; his banquet Cor. Assuredly, the thing is to be sold :

is prepar'd.

[Ereunt severally. Go with me: if you like, upon report,

SCENE VI. The same. The soil, the profit, and this kind of life,

Enter ORLANDO and ADAM. I will your very faithful feeder be,

Adam. Dear master, I can go no further: 0, And buy it with your gold right suddenly.

I die for food ! Here lie 1 down, and measure

[Excunt. out my grave. Farewell, kind master. SCENE V. The same.

Orl. Why, how now, Adam! no greater heart Enter AXENS, JAQUES, and others. in thee? Live a little; comfort a little; cheer SONG.

thyself a little: If this uncouth forest yield any Ami. Under the greenwood tree,

thing savage, I will either be food for it, or Who loves to lie with me,

bring it for food to thee. Thy conceit is nearer And turn his merry note

death than thy powers. For my sake, pe coinUnlo the sweet bird's throat,

fortable; hold death awhile at the arm's end : Come hither, come hither, come hither: I will here be with thee presently; and if I Here shall he see

bring thee not something to eat, I'll give thre No enemy,

leave to die : but if thou diest before I come, But winter and rough weather.

thou art a mocker of my labour. Well said! Jaq. More, more, I prythee, more.

thou look'st cheerily: and I'll be with thee Ami. It will make you melancholy, monsieur quickly.-Yet thou liest in the bleak air; Come, Jaques.

I will bear thee to some shelter; and thou shalt jaq. I thank it. More, I pr’ythee, more. I not die for lack of a dinner, if there live any can suck melancholy out of a song, as a weazel thing in this desert. Cheerly, good Adam! sucks eggs : More, I pr'ythee, more.

[Exeunt. Ami. My voice is ragged; I know, I cannot

SCENE VII. The same. please you.

A Table set out, Jaq. I do not desire you to please me, I do Enter Duke senior, AJIENS, Lords, and others. desire you to sing: Come, more: another stanza: Drike S. I think he be transform'd into a beast: Call you them stanzas?

For I can no where find him like a man. Ami. What you will, monsieur Jaques. 1 Lord. My lord, he is buteven now gone hence:

Jaq. Nay, I care not for their names; they Here was he merry, hearing of a song. cwe me nothing : Will you sing?

Duke S. If he, compact of jars, grow musical, Ami. More at your request, than to please We shall have shortly discord in the spheres :myself.

Go, seek him; tell him, I would speak with him. Jaq. Well then, if ever I thank any man, I'll

Enter JAQUES. thank you : but that they call compliment, is 1 Lord. He saves my labour by his own aplike the encounter of two dog-apes; and when proach.

[life is this, a man thanks me heartily, methinks, I have Duke s. Why, how now, monsieur! what a given him a penny, and he renders me the beg- That your poor friends must woo your company? garly thanks. Come, sing; and you that will What! you look merily. not, hold your tongues.

Jaf. A fool, a fool I met a fool i' the Ami. Well, I'll end the song.--Sirs, cover the A motley fool;-a miserable world ! (forest, while; the duke will drink under this tree! As I do live by food, I met a fool; he hath been all this day to look you.

Who laid him down and bask'd him in the sun, Jaq. And I have been all this day to avoid And rail'd on lady Fortune in good terms, him. He is too disputable for my company: 1 In good set terms,--and yet a motley fool. think of as many matters as he: but I give Good-morrow, fool, quoth I; No, sir, quoth he, heaven thanks, and make no brast of them. Call me not fool, till heaven have sent me fortune; Come, warble, come.

And then he drew a dial from his poke:

And looking on it with lack-lustre eye,
Who doth ambition shun, (Aitogether here. Says, very wisely, It is ten o'clock :
And loves to live if the sun,

Thus mny we see, quoth he, how the world tags : Seeking the fond he cats,

'T'is but an hour ago since it was nine : And pleas'd with what he gets,

And after an hour more, 'twill be cleven ;

And so from hour to hour, we ripe and ripe, Orl. You touch'd my vein at first; the thorny And then, from hour lo hour, we rot and rot,

point And thereby hangs a tale. When I did hear of bare distress hath ta'en from me the show The motley fool thus moral on the time, Of smooth civility: yet I am inland bred, My lungs began to crow like chanticleer, And know some nurture: But, forbear, I say; That fools shall be so deep-contemplative; Ile dies, that touches any of this fruit, And I did laugh, sans intermission,

Till I and my affairs are answered. An hour by his dial.-) noble fool!

Jaq. An you will not be answered with reason, A worthy fool! Motley's the only wear. I must die.

Duke S. What fool is this? (courtier; Duke S. What would you have? Your gentle

Jaq. () worthy fool !One that hath been a ness shall force, And says, if ladies be but young, and fair, More than your force move us to gentleness. They have the gift to know it;and in his brain,-- Orl. I almost die for food, and let me have it. Which is as dry as the remainder l'iscuit Dune S. Sit down and feed, and welcome to Afteravoyage,--he hath strange places crammid our table.

(you: With observation, the which he vents

Orl. Speak you so gently? Pardon me, I pray Ja mangled forras :-0, that I were a fool! I thought that all things had been savage here; I am ambitious for a motley coat.

And therefore put I on the countenance Duke S. Thou shalt have one.

of stern commandment: But whate'er you are, Jaq.

It is my only suit; That in this desert inaccessible, Provided, that you weed your better judgments Under the shade of melancholy boughs, Of all opinion that grows rank in them, Lose and neglect the creeping hours of time; That I am wise. I must have liberty If ever you have look'd on better days, Withal, as large a charter as the wind, If ever been where bells have kuolld to church; To blow on whom I please : for so fools have: If ever sat at any good man's feast; And they that are most galled with my folly, If ever from your eyelid wip'd a tear, They most must laugh: And why, sir, must And know what 'tis to pity, and be pitied; they so?

Let gentleness my strong enforcement be: The why is plain as way to parish church: In the which hope, I blush, and hide my sword. He, that a fool doth very wisely hit,

Duke S. True is it thatwe have seen better days; Doth very foolishly, although he smart, And have with holy bell been knoll'd to church; Not to seem senseless of the bob: if not, And sat at good men's feasts; and wip'd our eyes The wise man's folly is anatomiz'd

Of drops that sacred pity hath engender'd : Even by the squand'ring glances of the fool. And therefore set you down in gentleness, Invest me in my motley; give me leave And take upon command what help we have, To speak my mind, and I will through and That to your wanting may be minister'd. through

Orl. Then, but forbear your food a little while, (leanse the foul body of the infected world, Whiles, like a doe, I go to find my fawn, If they will patiently receive my medicine. And give it food. There is an old poor man, Duke 8. Fye on thee! I can tell what thou Who after me hath many a weary step wouldst do.

Limp'd in pure love: till be be first sufficid, -Jaq. What, for a counter, would I do, but good ? Oppress'd with two weak evils, age and hun. Duke S. Most mischievous foul sin, inchid- I will not touch a bit.

(ger,For thou thyself hast been a libertine, (irg sin: Duke S.

Go find him out, As sensual as the brutish sting itselt;

And we will nothing waste till you return. And all the embossed sores and headed evils, Orl. I thank ye; and be bless'd for your good That thou with licence of free foot hast caught,


[Erit Wouldst thou disgorge into the general world. Duke S. Thou seest we are not all alone unJaq. Why, who cries out on pride,

This wide and universal theatre (happy: That can therein tax any private party?

Presents more woful pageants than the scene Doth it not flow as hingely as the sea,

Wherein we play in. Till that the very very means do ebb?


All the world's a stage, What woman in the city do I name,

And all the men and women merely players : When that I say, the city-woman bears They have their exits, and their entrances : The cost of princes on unworthy alioulders ? And one man in his time plays many parts, Who can come in, and say, that I mean her, His acts being seven ages. At first the infant, When such a one as she, such is her neighbour? Mewling and puking in the nurse's arms; Or what is he of basest function,

And then, the whining school-boy, with his That says his bravery is not on my cost,

satchel, (Thinking that I mean hiin), but therein suits And shining morning face, creeping like snail His folly to the inettle of my speech? Unwillingly to school : And then, the lover; There then; How,what then? Let me see wherein Sighing like furnace, with a woful ballad My tongue hath wrong'd him: if it do him right, Made to his mistress'cye-brow: Then, a soldier: Then be hath wrong'd himself; if he be free,' Full of strange oatlıs, and bearded like the pard, Why then, my taxing like a wild goose flies, Jealous in hononr, sudden and quick in quarrel, Unclaim'd of any man.-But who comes here? Secking in the bubble reputation (justice;

Enter ORLANDO, with his Sword drawn. Even in the cannon's mouth: And then, the Orl. Forbear, and eat no more.

In fair round belly, with good capon lin'd, Jaq.

Why, I have eat none yet. With eyes severe, and beard of formal cui, Orl. Nor shalt not, till necessity be serv'd. Full of wise saws and modern instances, Jaq. Of what kind should this cock come of? And so he plays his part; The sixth age shifts Duke S. Art thou thus bolden'd, man, by thy Into the lean and slipper'd pantaloon; distress;

With spectacles on nose, and pouch on side ; Or else a rude despiser of good manners, His youthful hose well sav'd, a world too wide That in civility thou seem'st so empty? For his shrunk shark; and his big manly voice

« ZurückWeiter »