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Heaven grant my mother play'd my father fair!
a warped slip of wilderness
Ne'er iffu'd from his blood. Take my defiance,
Die, perih! Might my only bending down
Reprieve thee from thy fate, it should proceed.
I'll pray a thousand prayers for thy death;
No word to save thee.
Claud. Nay, hear me, Ijabel.
Tfab. Oh, fie, fie, fie!
Thy fin's not accidental, but a trade;
Mercy to thee would prove itself a bawd;
"T'is best, that thou dy't quickly.
Claud. Oh, hear me, Isabel.
Enter Duke and Provost. Duke. Vouchsafe a word, young fifter ; but one word. 1fab. What is your will?
Duke. Might you dispense with your leisure, I would by and by have some fpeech with you; the satisfaction I would require, is likewise your own benefit.
Isab. I have no superfluous leisure; my stay must be stolen out of other affairs; but I will attend you awhile.
Duke. [To Claudio aside.] Son, I have over-heard what hath paffed between you and your sister. Angelo had never the purpose to corrupt her; only he hath made an affay of her virtue, to praaise his judgment with the disposition of natures. She, having the truth of honour in her, hath made him that gracious denial, which he is most glad to receiye : I am confessor to Angelo, and I know this to be true; therefore prepare yourself to death. Do not satisfy your resolution with hopes that are fallible :. to-morrow you must die; go to your knec:, and make ready.
Claud. Let me ak my sitter pardon. I am so out of love with life, that I will fue to be rid of it.
No. III.-AS YOU LIKE IT.
Act. II. SCENE VII. Foreft.
Enter Duke Sen. and Lords. [A Table set outo
I Think he is transformd into a healt,
For I can no where find him like a man.
i Lord. My Lord, he is but even now gone hence ; Here was he merry, hearing of a fong.
Duke Sen. If he, compact of jars, grow musical,
We shall have shortly discord in the spheres.
Go, seek him. Teil him, I would speak with him.
i Lord. He saves my labour by his own approach.
Duke Sen. Why, how now, Monsieur, what a life is this,
That your poor friends must woo your company!
What you look merrily.
Jaq. A fool, a fool ; -mom-I met a fool i' the forest, A motley fool-a miserable worldAs I do live by food, I met a fool, Who, laid him down and bask'd him in the sun, And raild on Lady Fortune in good terms, In good set terms—and yet a moiley 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 wisely, It is ten o'clock: Thus may we see, quoth he, how the world wags : 'Tis but an hour ago since it was nine, And after one hour more 'twill be eleven; And so 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 The motley fool thus moral on the time, My lungs began to crow like chanticleer, That fools Mould be so deep contemplative: And I did laugh, sans intermiffion,
An hour by his dial. O noble fool,
A worthy fool--motley's the only wear.
Duke Sen. What fool is this?
Jaq. O worthy fool! one that hath been a courtier;
And lays, 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 biscuit
After a voyage, he hath strange places cramm'd
With observation, the which he vents
In mangled forms. O that I were a fool !
I am anibitious for a motley coat.
Duke Sen. Thou shalt have one.
Pag. It is my only suit;
Provided that you weed your better judgments
Of all opinion that grows rank in them,
That I am wise. I must have liberty
Withal; as large a charter as the wind,
To blow on whom I please ; for so fools have.
And they that are most galled with my folly,
They oft mult laugh: and why, Sir, muft they fo?
The ruby is plain, as way to parish-church:
He, whoin a fool doth very wisely hit,
Doth very foolishly, although he smart,
Not to seem senseless of the bob. If not,
"The wise man's folly is anatomiz'd
Even by the squand'ring glances of a fool.
Inveit me in my motley, give me leave
To speak my mind, and I will through and through
Cleanfe the foul body of the infected world,
If they will patiently receive my medicine.
Duke Sen. Fie on thee! I can tell what thou would't do.
Jaq. What, for a counter, would I do but good?
Duke Sen. Most mischievous foul fin, in chiding fin:
For thou thyself haft been a libertine,
As sensual as the brutish fting itself;
And all the embossed sores and headed evils,
That thou with licence of free foot haft caught,
Wouldit thou disgorge into the general world.
Jag. Why, who cries out on pride, That can therein tax any private party? Doth it not low as hugely as the sea,
Till that the very, very means do ebb?
What woman in the city do I name,
When that I fay the city-woman bears
The cott of princes on unworthy shoulders ?
Who can come in, and say, that I mean her ;
When such a one as the, such is her neighbour !
Or what is he of bafest function,
That says, his bravery is not on my cost;
Thinking, that I mean him; but therein suits
His folly to the metal of my speech?
There then; how then? what then? Let me see wherein
My tongue hath wrong'd him; if it do him right,
Then he hath wrong'd himself; if he be free,
Why, then my taxing, like a wild goose, flies
Unclaim'd of any man But who comes here?
Enter Orlando, with a sword drauri
Orla. Forbear, and eat no more.
Jaq. Why, I have eat none yet.
Orla. Nor shalt thou till necessity be serv'd.
Jaq. What kind should this cock come of?
Duke Sen. Art thou thus bolden'd, man, by thy distress;
Os elle a rude despiser of good manners,
That in civility thou seem'ft so empty?
Orla. You touch'd my vein at first. The thorny point
Of bare distress hath ta'en from me the thew
Of smooth civility; yet am I inland-bred,
And know some nurture. But forbear, I say:
He dies that touches any of this fruite
Till I and
my affairs are answer'd.
Be answered with reason, I must die.
Duke Sen. What would you have? Your gentleness fhall More than your force move us to gentleness. [force
Orla. I almost die for food, and let me have it.
Duke Sen. Sit down and feed'; and welcome to our table.
Orla. Speak you so gently ?-Pardon me, I pray you;
I thought that all things had been savage here;
And therefore put I on the countenance
Of fern commandment. But whate'er you are,
That in this defert inaccessible,
Under the shade of melancholy boughs,
Lose and neglect the creeping hours of time;
If ever you have look'd on better days;
If ever been where bells have knolld to church;
If ever sate at any good man's feast ;
If ever from your eyelids wip'd a tear,
And know what 'tis to pity, and be pitied ;
Let gentleness my strong enforcement be :
In the which hope I blush, and hide my
(Sheathing the fword.
Duke Sen. True it is, that we have seen better days ;
And have with holy beli been knoll'd to church ;
And sate at good men's feasts, and wip'd our eyes
Of drops, that facred pity hath engender'd :
And therefore fit you down in gentleness,
And take upon command what help we have,
That to your wanting may be ministred.
Orla. Then but forbear your food a little while,
Whiles, like a doe, I go to find my fawn,
And give it food. There is an old poor man,
Who after me hath many a weary step
Limp'd in pure love: till he be first fuffic'd,
Oppress’d with two weak evils, age and hunger,
I will not touch a bit.
Duke Sen. Go, find him out,
And we will nothing waste till you return.
Orla. I thank ye; and be bless’d for your good comfort
Duke Sen. Thou seeft, we are not all alone unhappy:
'This wide and universal theatre
Presents inore woful pageants, than the scene
Wherein we play.
Jag. All the world's a stage,
And all the men and women merely players :
They have their exits and their entrances ;
And one man in his time plays many parts,
His acts being seven ages. At first the infant,
Mewling and puking in the nurse's arms,
And then the whining school-boy with his fatchel,
And shining morning-face, creeping like fnail
Unwl ingly to school. And then, the lover;
Sighing like furnace, with a woful ballad