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Jaq. More, more, I pr’ythee, more.
Ami. It will make you melancholy, Monsieur Jaques.

Jaq. I thank it; more, I pr’ythee, more; I can fuck melancholy out of a Song, as a weazel sucks eggs: more, I prythee, 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 fing; come, come, another stanzo; call you 'em stanzo's ?

Ami. What you will, Monsieur Jaques.

Jaq. Nay, I care not for their names, they owe mę nothing.–Will you sing ?

Ami. More at your request, than to please myself,

Jaq. Well then, if ever I thank any man, I'll thank you ; but That, they call Compliments, is like the 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 your tongues - 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.

Jaq. 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.

SON G.
Who doth ambition fhun,
And loves to lie i'th' Sun,
Seeking the food ke eats,
And pleas'd with what he gets;
Come hither, come hither, come hither;
Here

shall he fee

No enemy,

But winter and rough weather.

Jaq.

Jaq. I'll give you a verse to this note, that I made yellerday 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 ass;
Leaving his wealth and
A stubborn will to please,
Duc ad me, duc ad me, duc ad me;

Here shall he fee

Gross fools as he
An if he will come to me.

Ami. What's that duc ad me?

Jaq. 'Tis a Greek invocation, to call fools into se circle. I'll go to sleep if I can; if I cannot, I'll rail against all the first-born of Egypt.

Ami. And I'll go seek the Duke: his banquet is prepar'd.

(Exeunt, severally.

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Enter Orlando and Adam. Adani.

D

EAR master, I can go no further; 0,

I die for food! here lie I down, and measure out iny grave. Farewel, kind master.

Orla. Why, how now, Adam! no greater heart in thee? live a little comfort a little ; cheer thyself a little. If this uncouth Forest yield any thing savage, I will either be food for it, or bring it for food to thee: thy conceit is nearer death, than 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'll give thee leave to die. But if thou diest before I come, thou art a mocker of my labour. Well said, thou look'st C 2

cheerly.

cheerly. And I'll be with thee quickly; yet thou lieft in the bleak air. Come, I will bear thee to fome shelter, and thou shalt not die for lack of a dinner, if there live any thing in this Desart. Cheerly, good Adan.

[Exeunt.

S CE N E VII.
Enter Duke Sen, and Lords [A Table set out.
Duke Sen. Think, he is transform'd into a beast,

I

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 mufical,
We shall have shortly discord in the spheres:
Go, seek him; tell him, I would speak with him.

Enter Jaques,
1 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:

Jag. A fool, a fool ;-I met a fool i' th' forest,
A motley fool; a miserable varlet !
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 set terms, and yet a motley 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 poak,
And looking on it with lack-luftre eye,
Says, very wisely, it is ten a 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 fo from hour to hour we ripe and ripe,

And

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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 fhould be so deep contemplative :
And I did laugh, fans intermission,
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 says, 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 bilket After a voyage, he hath strange places cram'd With observation, the which he vents In mangled forms. O that I were a fool! I am ambitious for a motley coat.

Duke Sen. Thou shalt have one.

Jaq. It is my only suit; Provided, that you weed your better judgments Of all opinion, that grows rank in them, That I am wife. 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 gauled with my folly, They most must laugh; and, why, Sir, must they so ? The why is plain, as way to parish church; He, whom a fool doth very wisely hit, Doth very foolishly, although he smart, * Not to seen senseless of the bob. If not, The wife man's folly is anatomiz'd Even by the squandring glances of a fool. Inveft me in my motley, give me leave To speak my mind, and I will through and through

* Seem Senseless of the bob.] Both the Measure and the Sense direa us to read,

Not to seem senseless, &c.

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Cleanse the foul body of th' infected world,
If they will patiently receive my medicine.
Duke Sen. Fie on thee! I can tell what thou would

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 th' embossed fores and headed evils,
That thou with licence of free foot haft caught,
Would'st thou disgorge into the general world.

Jaq. Why, who cries out on pride,
That can therein tax any private party?
Doth it not flow as hugely as the Sea,
'Till that the very very means do ebb?
What woman in the city do I name,
When that I say, the city-woman bears
The cost of Princes on unworthy shoulders ?
Who can come in, and say, that I mean her;
When such a one as the, fuch is her neighbour?
Or what is he of bafell function,
That says, his bravery is not on my coft ;
Thinking, that I mean him; but therein sutes
His folly to the metal of my speech?
There then; how then? what then? let me see where.

in
My longue 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?

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Orla. ORBEAR, and eat no more.

Jaq. Why, I have eat none yet.
Orla. Nor shalt thou, 'till necessity be serv'd.

Jaq.

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