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He scatter'd nor in cars; but grafted them Of the none-sparing war? And is it I
To grow there, and to bear; Let me 'not live'- That drive thee from the sportive court, where thou
[Itancies Whoever charges on his forward breast, • Mere fathers of their garments; whole con- I am the caitist that do hold him to it: • Expire before their fashions.' This he wished. And tho' I kill him not, I am the cause I, after hin, do after him wish too,
His death was so effcêted. Better 'twere
With sharp constraint of hunger : better 'twere,
That all the miseries which nature owes
Were mine at once. No, come thou home,
Whence honour but of danger wins a scar,
As oft it loses all. I will be gone : The sun, that looks upon his worshipper,
My being here it is, that holds thee hence. But knows of him no more!
Shall I stay here to do it? No, no, although Mean Inftruments often successful. The air of Paradise did fan the house, What I can do, can do no hurt to try,
And angels offic'd all : I will be gone; Since you set up your reft'gainft remcdy.
That piriful rumour may report my flight, He that of greatest works is finisher,
To confolate thine ear. Oft does them by the weakest minister;
Cuftom of Seducers.
You barely leave our thorns to prick ourselves,
Mine honour's such a ring : Where hope is coldest, and despair most fits. My chastity 's the jewel of our house, Honour due to perforal Virtue, not ia Birib.
Bequeathed down from many anceftors;
Which were the greatest obloquy i'th' world
Yet am I thankful : if my heart were great,
'Twould burst at this. Captain I'll be no more; A poor physician's daughter, thou dislik'st
But I will eat, and drink, and Sleep as foft Of virtue for the name. But do not fo
As captain thall: fimply the thing I am [gart, From lowest place when virtuous things proceed, Let him fear this ; for it will come to pass,
Shall make me live. Who knows himself a bragThe place is dignified by the doer's deed. Where great addition swells, and virtuc none,
That every braggart shall be found an als.
Rust, sword ! cool, blufres ! and, Parolles,
Safest in thame! being fool'd, by fool'ry Not by the title. She is young, wise, fair;
There's place and means for every man alive. In there, to nature the's iinmediate heir;
The Rufoness of Youth excused.
I beseech your majesty to make it
'bat's lost most valued. A lying trophy, and as oft is dumb,
Praising what is loft,
Let's take the instant by the forward top;
For we are old, and on our quick'st decrces
Excuse for unreasonable Dislike. Here feel we but the penalty of Adam,
The season's difference; as the icy fang, I stuck my choice upon her, ere iny heart
And churlith chiding of the winter's wind;
Which, when it bites and blows upon my body, Durit make too bold a herald of my tongue : Where the impreffion of mine eye enfixing,
Even till I fhrink with cold, I smile and say, Contempt his icornful perspective did lend me,
" This is no flattery;" these are counte llors,
That feelingly perfuade me what I am.
Sweet are the ules of adversity,
Vhich, like the toad, ugly and venomous,
And this our life, exempt froin public haunt, Since I have lott, have lov’d, was in my eye
Sermons in stones, and good in every thing. The dust that did offend it.
'I would not change it! Impediments stimulate.
Amiens. Happy is your grace, As" all impediments in fancy's course That can tranllate the stubbornness of fortune Are motives of mere fancy.”
Into fo quiet and so sweet a style! 2. AS YOU LIKE IT. SHAKSPEARE.
Reflections on a wounded Stay, and on the
melancholy Jaques. Playfellowus.
Come, shall we go and kill us venison ? WE have ftill Nept together ; (together ; And yet it irks me, the poor dappled fools,
Role at an instant; learn'd, play d, eat Being native burghers of this desert city,
Have their round haunches gored.
if Lord. Indeed, my lord,
And, in that kind, Iwcars you do more usurp Wilt thou change fathers? I will gire'thee mine. Than doth your brother who hath banish'd you. I charge thee, be not thou more griev'dthan I am. To-day my lord of Amiens, and myself, Rosalind. I have more cause.
Did steal behind him, as he lay along Celia, Thou hast not, cousin.
Under an oak, whose antique roots peep out Prythee be cheerful: know'st thou not, the Duke Upon the brook that brawls along this wood: Has banith'd me, his daughter?
To the which place a poor sequefter'd stag, Rolulind. That he hath not.
[love That from the hunter's aim had ta'en a hurt, Célia. No? Hath not? Rofalind lacks then the Did comc to languilh: and, indeed, my lord, Which teacheth me that thou and I are one :
The wretched animal heav'd forth such groans, Shall we be fundered ? Shall we part, sweet girl: That their discharge did stretch his leathern coas No, let my father fcek another heir.
Almost to burtting; and the big round tears Therefore devise with me how we may Aly,
Cours'd one another down his innocent note Whither to go, and what to bear with us ;
In piteous chace; and thus the biairy fool, And do not seek to take your change upon you,
Much marked of the melancholy Jaques, To bear your griefs yourself, and leave me out:
Stood on th' extremest verge of the swift brouky For by this heaven, now at our sorrows pale,
Augmenting it with tears.
Did he not moralize this spectacle ?
If Lord. O yes, into a thousand fimiles.
First, for his weeping in the needless stream
Poor deer, quoth he, thou mak'st a teftament
As worldlings do, giving thy sum of more Because that I am more than common tall,
To that which had too much. Then, being alone, That I did suit me all points like a man?
Left and abandon'd of his velvet friends; A gallant curtle-axe upon my thigh,
'Tis right, quoth he, thus mitery doth part A boar-spear in my hand, and (in my heart,
The flux of company. Anon, a careless herd, Lie there what hidden woman's fears there will) Full of the patture, jumps along by him, I'll have a swathing and a martial outside ;
And never stays to greci him: Ay, quoth Jaques, As many other inannish cowards have, Sweep on, you fat and greasy citizens; That do outface it with their semblances.
'Tis just the fathion; wherefore do you look Solitude preferred to a Court Life, and the Advan- Thus most invectively he pierceth through
Uçon that poor and broken bankrupt there? tages of Adversity.
The body of the country, city, court, Now, my co-mates and brothers in exile, Yea, and of this our life; livearing that we Hath not old custom made this life more sweet Are mere ufurpers, tyrants, and what 's worse, Than that of painted pomp? Are not these woods To fright the animals, and kill them up, More free froid peril than the envious court? In their allign’d and native clwelling-place.
D.S. And beg my
D. . And did you leave him in this contem- | And ere we have thy youthful wages spent, plation
(menting We 'll light upon soine fettled low content. Amiens. We did, my lord, wecping and com- Artum. Mafter, go on; and I will follow thee, Upon the fobbing deer.
To the latt galp, with truth and loyaltyD. S. Shew me the place ;
From leyenteen years till vow almost fourscore I love to cope him in thefc lullen fils,
Herc lived I, but now live bere no more. For then he's full of inatter,
Al livenecen years many their fortune soek,
But at fuuricure it is too late a weck;
Yet fortune cannot recompente me better
Lover th hribeil.
Thou hast not lov'd-
Or if thou hast not late as I do now, know you not, master, to some kind of men
Wcarying thy hearer in thy mistress' praise,
Thou huift not lov'd-
Abruptly, as my passion now makes me,
Difeription of a fool, and bis Morals on the Time.
Jaques. As I do live by food, I met a fool ; food ?
Who laid him down, and bask'd him in the fun, Or with a bafe and boisterous sword enforce
And rail'd on lady Fortune in good termsA thievith living on the common road :
In good ser terms and yet a motley fool. This I must do, or know not what to do
• Good-morrow, fool,' quoth I: 'No, Sir,' quoth Yet this I will not do, do how I can;
[fortune.' I rather will subject me to the malice
« Call me not fool, till Heaven harh lent me Of a diverted blood, and bloody brother.
And then he drew a dial from his pokc,
And, looking on it with lack-luftre eye,
Says, very wisely, “I: is ren o'clock : [wags : Adam. But do not fo; I have five hundred, Thus may we foc,' quoth he, how the world
“ 'Tis bue an hour ago fivce it was nine; crowns, The thrifty hire I sav'd under your father,
And after one hour more 'twill be eleven ;
· And so from hour to hour we ripe and ripe, Which I did store, to be my foster nurse
· And then from hour to hour we rot and rot, When service should in my old limbs lie lame,
* And thereby hangs a tale.' When I did hear And unregarded age in corners thrown. Take that; and He that doth the ravens feed,
The motley fool thus moral on the time,
My lungs began to crow like chanticleer, Yea, providently caters for the sparrow,
That fools thould be fo deep contemplative: Be comfort to my age! Here is the gold;
And I did laugh, fans intermillion, All this I give you : let me be your servant :
An hour by his dial. Tho' I look old, yet I am strong and lufty;
Duke. What fool is this? For in my youth I never did apply
[a courtier, Hot and rebellious liquors in my blood;
Jaques. Owortly fool! one that hath been Nor did I with unbathful forehead woo
And lays, if ladies be but young and fair, The means of weaknets and debility:
They have the gift to know it: and in his brain, Therefore my age is as a lusty winter,
Which is as dry as the remaivder biscuit Frosty but kindly. Let me go with you,
After a voyage, he hath strange places cram'd I'll do the service of a younger man,
With observation, the which he vents In all vour business and neccílitics.
In mangled forins. Oh that I were a fool!
A Fool's Liberty of Speccb.
Dime. Thou Malt have ouc.
Withal; as large a charter as the wind, Iulieu rif all thy pains and husbandry.
To blow on whom I picale; for 10 fools have : But come thy ways, we'll go along together, And they thit are inolt galicd with my tolly,
They most must laugh. And why, Sir, must they | And therefore fit you down in gentleness,
That to your wanting may be miniflerd. [while, Doch very foolishly, although he smart,
Orlanito. Then but forbear your food a littic Not to seem senseless of the bob. If not, Whiles, like a doe, I go to find my fawn, The wise man's toily is anatorniz'd
And give it food. There is an old poor man, Even by the squandering glances of the fool. Who after me hath many a wcary step Invest me in my motley; give me leave through Limp'd in pure love; vill he be first iuffic'd, To leak my mind, and I will through and Opprets’d with two weak evils, age and hunger, Cleanse the foul body of th' infected world,
I will not touch a bit ! If they will patiently receive my medicine.
The World compared 10 n Stage. Dake. Fie on thee I can tell what thou wouldft do.
Thou feeft we are not all alone unhappy
(but good Faques. What, for a counter, would I do This wide and universal theatre Duke. Most mischievous foul fin in chiding
Presents more woeful pageants than the scene For thou thyself haft been a libertine,
Wherein we play,
[lin : As fensual as the brutish fting itself:
Jaques. All the world 's a stage, And all :h' imboiled fores and headed cvils,
And all the men and women merely players; That thou with licence of free foot hast caught,
They have their exits and their entrances; Wouldst thou disgorge into the general world.
And one man in his time plays many parts,
His a&ts being leven ages. At first, the infant, An Apology for Satire.
Mewling and puking in the nurse's arms : Jaques. Why, who cries out on pride, And then the whining school-boy, with his That can therein tax any private party?
satchel Doth it not flow as hugely as the lea,
And Mining morning face, creeping like snail Till that the very means do ebb?
Unsvillingly to school. And then the lover; What woman in the city do I name,
Sighing like furnace, with a woeful ballad When that I say, the city woman bears Made to his mistress' eye-brow. Then, the soldier, The cost of princes on unworthy shoulders ?
Full of strange oaths, and bearded like the pard, Who can come in, and say that I mean her, Jealous in honour, sudden and quick in quarrel, When such a one as fhe, such is her neighbour : Secking the bubble reputation (justice, Or what is he of bafest function,
Even in the cannon's mouth. And then the That savs, his bravery is not on my cost; In fair round belly with good capon lin’d, (Thinking that I mean him) but therein suits
With eyes severe, and beard of formal cut, His folly to the metal of my fpeech? (wherein Full of wife laws and modern infiances, There then, how then ? What then, let me fee And so he plays his part. The fixth age fifts My congue hath wrong d hiin. If it do him right, Into the lean and slipper'd pantaloon, Then he hath wrong'd himself
. ., If he be free, With spectacles on 's nose and pouch on 's fide; Why, then, my taxing, like a wild goose, fiies
His youthful hose, well fav'd, a world too wide Unclaim'd of any man.
For his thrunk thanks; and his big manly voice, Diftress prevents Ceremony.
Turning again towards childish treble, pipes The thorny point
And whifiles in his found. Last scene of all, Of bare diftress hath ta'en from me the thow That ends this strange eventful history, of mooth civility.
Is second childishness, and mere oblivion,
Sans teeth, sans cyes, sans taste, sans every thing. A render Petition and Riply. Orlando. Speak you to gently? Pardon me, I
Digratitude. A Song.
Blow, blow, thou winter-wind,
As man's ingratitude :
Because thou art not feun, Under the shade of mclancholy boughs,
Although thy breath be rude. Lole and neglect the creeping hours of time;
Freeze, frecze, thou bitter iky, If ever you have look'd on better days;
Thou dost not bite so nigh If ever been where bells have knolld to church;
As benefits forgot: If ever sat at any good man's fealt;
Tho' thou the waters warp, If ever from your eye-lids wip'd a tear,
Thy fting is not so sharp
As friend remember'd not.
But first begs pardon : will you sterner be But sure he's proud; and yet his pride becomes Than he that dies and lives by bloody drops ?
him : Phoebe. I would not be thy executioner: He'll make a proper inan; the best thing in him I fly thee, for I would not injure thee.
Is his complexion : and faster than his tongue Thou tell'st me, there is murder in mine eye ; Did make offence, his eye did heal it up. 'Tis pretty, sure, and very probable,
He is not very tall; yet for his years he's tall; That eyes, that are the frail'st and sofrest things, His leg is but so fo; and yet 'tis well : Who Mut their coward gates on atomies, There was a pretty redness in his lip, Should be call'd tyrants, butchers, murderers ! A little riper and more lusty red Now I do frown on thee with all my heart; Than that mix'd in his cheek; 'twas just the And, if mine eyes can wound, now let them difference kill thee:
Betwixt the constant red and mingled damask. Now counterfeit to fivoon; why, now fall down; There be some women, Sylvius, had they inark'd Or, if thou canst not, 0, for shame, for thame,
him Lie not, to say mine eyes are murderers. [thee. In parcels, as I did, would have gone near Now show the wound mine cye hath made in To fall in love with him ; but, for my part, Scratch thee but with a pin, and there remains I love him not, nor hate him not; and yet Some scar of it ; lean but upon a rush,
I have more cause to hate him than to love him; The cicatrice and capable impressure [eyes, For what had he to do to chide at me? Thy palm some moment keeps : but now mine He said mine eyes were black, and my hair black; Which I have darted at thee, hurt thec not; And, now I am remember'd, scorn'd at me: Nor, I am sure, there is no force in eyes I marvel why I answer'd not again ; That can do hurt to any.
But that's all one; omittance is no quittance. Sylvius.
O dear Phæbe, If ever (as that ever may be near)
A fare Description of a perping Man about 10 be You meet in somc fresh cheek the pow'r of fancy,
destroyed by a Snake and a Lioness.
And high top balu with dry antiquity,
A wretched, ragged man, o'ergrown with hair, I think the means to tangle inine eyes too.
Lay llecping on his back; about his neck No, 'faith, proud mistrels! hope not after it;
A green and gilded snake had writh'd itself,
Who with her head, nimblcin thrcats, approach'd 'Tis not your inky brows, your black silk hair, Your bugle eye-balls, nor your cheek of crean, Seeing Orlando, it unlink'd itself,
The opening of his mouth; but suddenly
And with indented glides did Nip away
A lioness, with udders all drawn dry, You are a thousand times a properer man
(watch Than she a woman : 'Tis such fools as you
Lav couching, head on ground, with cat-like That make the world full of ill-favour'd When that the sleeping man should stir: fortis children.
The royal disposition of that beast 'Tis not her glass, but you, that flatters her;
To prey on nothing that doth seem as dcad. And out of you the sees hiertelf more proper
Conversion. Than any of her lineamenis can thew her.
I do not shame
Phæbe. Good shepherd, tell this youth what
'tis to love. Foul is muft foul, being foul to be a scoffer.
Sylvius. It is to be all made of sighs and tears; Tender Love.
It is to be all made of faith and service; So holy, and so perfect is my love,
It is to be all made of fantasie, And I in such a poverty
grace, That I Thall think it a most plentcous crop
All made of passion, and all made of wishes :
All adoration, duty, and observance ;
All humbleness, all patience and impatience :
The Uncertainty of Opinion in Anxiety. Think not I love hiin, though I ask for him ; Duke. Dost thou believc, Orlando, that the boy 'Tis but a peevith boy ;--yet he talks well :- Can do all this that he hath promised ? But what care I for words? Yet words do well, Orlando. I sometimes do believe, and some. When he that speaks them pleases those that hear.
times do not; It is a pret:y youth ;-not very pretty;-- As those that fear, they hope, and know they fear.