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F: Cel. And we will mend thy Wages;
E I like this place, and willingly could .
Waste my time in it.

Cor. Assuredly the thing is to be sold;
Go with me, if you like upon Report,..
Lith: The Soil, the Profit, and this kind of Life,

I will your very faithful Feeder be,
And buy it with your Gold right suddenly.

Enter Amiens, Jaques, and others,

Under the greeenhood Tree,

Who loves to lye with me,
And turn his merry Note,

Unto the sweet Bird's Throat;
Come hither, come bither, come hither,

Here Mall be see no Enemy,
But Winter and rough Weather..

Fag. More, more, I pretheee, more.
Ami. It will make you melancholy, Mounsicur Jaques,

Faq. I thank it; more, I prethee, more,
I can suck Melancholy out of a Song,
As a Weazel fucks Eggs: More, I prethee, more.

Ami. My Voice is rugged, I know I cannot please you,

Jaq. I do not desire you to please me,
I do desire you to sing;
Come, come, another Stanzo: Call you 'em Stanzo's?

Ami. What you will, Mounsieur Jaques.

Jaq. Nay, I care not for their Names, they owe me nothing. Will you sing?

Ami. More at your request, than to please my self.

Jaq. Well then, if ever I thank any Man, I'll thank you; but that they call Complement is like th' Encounter of two Dog-Apes. And when a Man thanks, me heartily, methinks I have given him a Penny, and he renders me the beggarly Thanks. Come fing, and you that will not, hold

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your Tongues.

Ami, Ami. Well, I'll end the Song. Sirs, cover the while the Duke will Dine under this Tree; he hath been all this day to look you.

Faq. And I have been all this day to avoid him,
He is too disputable for my Company :
I think of as many Matters as he, but I give
Heav'n thanks, and make no Boast of them.
Come, warble, come.

Who doth Ambition mun,

And loves to lye P'th' Sun,
Seeking the Food be eats,

And pleas'd with what he gets ;
Come hither, come bither, come hither;.

Here Mall you see, no Enemy,

But Winter and rough Weather.
Faq. I'll give you a Verse to this Note,
That I made yesterday in despight of my Invention,

Ami. And I'll sing it.
Jaq. Thus it goes.

If it do come to pass,
That any Man turn Afs;
Leaving his Wealth and Ease,

A stubborn Will to please,
Ducdame, Ducdame, Ducdame;

Here Mall he see, grofs Fools as he

And if he will come to me.
Ami. What's that Ducdame?

Jag. 'Tis a Greek Invocation, to call Fools into a Circle. I'll go sleep if I can; if I cannot, I'll rail against all the Firstborn of Egypt.

Ami. And I'll go seek the Duke, '; His Banquet is prepar'd.

[Excunt. SCENE VI. i.

Enter Orlando and Adam. Adam. Dear Master, I can go no further: 0 I die for Food ! Here lye I down,

And measure out my Grave. Farewel, kind Master.

Orl. Why how now, Adam ! no greater Heart in thee? Live a little, comfort a little, cheer thy self a little. If this unçouth Forest yield any thing Savage, I will either be Food for it, or bring it for Food to theea Thy Conceit is nearer Death, chan thy Powers. For my fake be comfortable, hold Death a while At the Arm's end : I will be here with thee presently, And if I bring thee not something to eat, I will give thee leave to die. But if thou dieft Before I come, thou art a mocker of my Labouri Well said, thou look'st cheerly. And I'll be with thee quickly ; yet thou lieft In the bleak Air. Come, I will bear thee To some Shelter, and thou shalt not die For lack of a Dinner; If there live any thing in this Desart. Cheerly, good Adam.

[Exeunt. SCENE VII.

Enter Duke Sen, and Lords. [A Table set out. Duke Sen. I think he be transform'd into a Beast, 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 Song.

Duke Sen. If he, compact of Jars, grow Musical,
We shall have shortly Discord in the Spheres:
Go seek him, tell him I would speak with him.

Enter Jaques.
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. .

Faq. A Fool, a Fool, I met a Fool i'th' Forest,
A motley Fool; a miserable World !
As I do live by Food, I met a Fool,
Who laid him down, and bask'd him in the Sun,
And rail'd on Lady Fortune in good terms,
In good sec terms, and yet a motley Fool.
Good morrow, Fool, quoth I: No, Sir, quoth he,



SCENE a Foreft.
Enter Duke Senior, Amiens, and two or thee Lords

like Forefters. Duke Sen. N OW my Co-mates, and Brothers in Exile, TV Hath not old Custom made this Life more

Than that of painted Pomp? Are not these Woods
More free from Peril than the envious Court
Here feel we not the Penalty of Adam,
The Season's Difference, as the Icie phang'
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 perfuade me what I am.
Sweet are the Uses of Adversity,
Which like the Toad, ugly and venemous,
Wears yet a precious Jewel in his Head:
And this our Life exempt from publick Haunt,
Finds Tongues in Trees, Books in the running Brooks,
Sermons in Stones, and Good in every thing.

Amien. I would not change it; happy is your Grace
That can translate the Stubbornness of Fortune
Into fo quiet and so sweet a Style.

Duke Sen. Come, shall we go and kill us Venison?
And yet it irks me, the poor dapled Fools,
Being native Burghers of this defart City,
Should in their own Confines with forked Heads,
Have their round Haunches goar'd.

i Lord. Indeed, my Lord,
The melancholy Jaques grieves at that,
And in that kind swears you do more usurp,
Than doth your Brother that hath banish'd you:
To Day my Lord of Amiens, and my felf,
Did fteal behind him as he lay along
Under an Oak, whose antick Root peeps out


Upon the Brook that brawls along this Wood,
To the which Place a poor fequeftred Stag
That from the Hunters Aim had ta'en a Hurt,
Did come to languish; and indeed, my Lord,
The wretched Animal heav'd forth such Groans,
That their Discharge did Itretch his leathern Coat
Almost to bursting, and the big round Tears
Cours'd one another down his innocent Nose
In piteous Chase; and thus the hairy Fool,
Much marked of the melancholly Jaques,
Stood on thextreamest Verge of the swift Brook,
Augmenting it with Tears.

Duke Son. But what said Jagues?
Did he not moralize this spectacle?

I Lord. O yes, into a thousand Similies.
First, for his Weeping into the needless Stream;
Poor Deer, quoth he, thou mak’ft a Teftament
As Worldlings do, giving thy Sum of more
To that which had too much. Then being alone,
Left and abandon'd of his velvet Friends;

Tis right, quoch he, thus Misery doth part
The Flux of Company: Anon a careless Herd
Full of the Pasture, jumps along by him,
And never stays to greet him: Ay, quoth Jaques,
Sweep on, you fat and greazy Citizens,
Tis just the Fashion; wherefore do you look
Upon that poor and broken Bankrupt there?
Thus most inveđively he pierceth through
The Body of the Country, City, Court,
Yea, and through this our Life, swearing that we
Are meer Usurpers, Tyrants; and what's worse,
To fright the Animals, and to kill them up
In their assign'd and native dwelling Place.

Duke Sen. And did you leave him in this contemplation?

2 Lord. We did, my Lord, weeping and commenting Upon the sobbing Deer,

Duke Sen. Show me the Place, I love to cope him in these fullen Fits, For then he's full of Matter. 2 Lord, I'll bring you to him straight. [Exeunt.


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