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away upon curs, throw some of them at me; comc,l Cel. I did not then entreat to have her stay, lame me with reasons.

It was your pleasure, and your own remorse;' Ros. Then there were two cousins laid up; when I was too young that time to value her, the one should be lamed with rcasons, and the other But now I know her: if she be a traitor, mad without any.

Why so am 1; we still have slept together. Cel. But is all this for your father?

Rose at an instant, learn’d, play'd, eat together; Ros. No, some of it for my child's father: 0, And wheresoe'cr we went, like Juno's swans, how full of briers is this working-day world! Still we went coupled, and inseparable.

Cel. They are but burs, cousin, thrown uponDuke F. She is too subtle for thec : and her thee in holiday foolery; if we walk not in the

smoothness, trodden paths, our very petticoats will catch them. Her very silence, and her patience,

Ros. I could shake them off my coat; these burs Speak to the people, and they pity her. are in ny heart.

Thou art a fool: she robs thee of thy name; Cel. Hem them away.

And thou will show more bright, and seem more Ros. I would try; it' I could cry hem, and have virtuous,

When she is gone: then open not thy lips; Cel. Come, come, wrestle with thy affections. Firm and irrevocable is my dooin

Ros. 0, they take the part of a better wrestler Which I have pass'd upon her; she is banish'd. than myself.

1 Cel. Pronounce that sentence then on me, my Cel. 0, a good wish upon you! you will try in

in

liege; time, in despite of a fall. But, turning these jests I cannot live out of her company. out of service, let us talk in good earnest: Is it pos. Duke F. You are a fool :-fou, niece, provide sible, on such a sudden, you should fall into so y oursell; strong a liking with old sir Rowland's youngest son? If you out-stay the time, upon mine honour,

Ros. The duke my father lov'd his father dearly. And in the greatness of my word, you die.
Cei. Doth it therefore ensue, that you should

(Exeunt Duke Frederick and lords. love his son dearly? By this kind of chase, I should Cel. O my poor Rosalind! whither wilt thou go? hate him, for my father hated his father dearly ;' Wilt thou change fathers ? I will give thee mine. yet I hate not Orlando.

I charge thee, be not thou more griev'd than I am. Roe No. Pfaith. hate him not. for mv sake.

Ros. I have more cause. Cel. Why should I not ? doth he not deserve well?! Cel.

Thou hast not, cousin; Ros. Let me love him for that; and do you love Pr’ythee, be cheerful: know'st thou not, the duke him, because I do:-Look, here comes the duke. Vaih banishi'd me his daughter ? Cel. With his eyes full of anger.

Ros.

That he hath not.

| Cel. No? hath not ? Rosalind lacks then the love Enter Duke Frederick, with lords. .

Which teacheth ihce that thou and I am one: Duke F. Mistress, despatch you with your safest Shall we be sunder'd ? shall we part, sweet girl?

No; let my father seck another heir. And get you from our court.

Therefore devise with me, how we may fly, Ros.

Me, uncle? Whither to go, and what to bea Duke F.

You, cousin ;/ And do not seek to take your change upon you, Within these ten days is that thou be'st found To bear your gricts yourself, and leave me out; So near our public court as twenty miles,

For, by this heaven, now at our sorrows pale, Thou diest for it.

Say what thou canst, I'll go along with thee. Ros.

I do beseech your grace, Hilos. Why, whither shall we go? Let me the knowledge of iny fault bear with me: Cel.

To seek my uncle. Il with myself I hold intelligence,

Ros. Alas, what danger will it be to us,
Or have acquaintance with mine own desires ; Maids as we are, to travel forth so far ?
If that I do not dream, or be not frantic,

Beauty provoketh thieves sooner than gold. (As I do trust I am not,) then, dear uncle,

Cel. I'll put myself in poor and mean attire, Never, so much as in a thought unborn,

And with a kind of umber: smirch my face; Did I bilend your higliness.

The like do you; so shull we pass along, Drike F.

Thus do all traitors ; and nicver siir assailants. If their purgation did consist in words,

Ros.

Were it not better, They are as innocent as grace itsell:

Because that I am more than common tall,
Let it suflice thee, that I trust thce not.

That I did suit me all points like a man?
Ros. Yet your mistrust cannot make me a traitor; A gallant curtle-axe upon my thigh,
Tell me, whereon the likelihood depends.

A boar-spear in iny hand; and (in my heart Duke F. Thou art thy father's daughter, there's Lie there what hidden woman's fear there will,) enough.

We'll have a swashings and a martial outside : Ros. So was I, when your highness took his As many other manish cowards have, dukedom;

l'That do outlace it with their semblances. So was I, when your highness banish'd him ; | Cel. What shall I call thee, when thou art a Treason is not inherited, my lord ;

man? Or, if we did derive it from our friends,

Ros. I'll have no worse a name than Jove's own What's that to me? my father was no traitor:

page, Then, good my liege, mistake me not so much, And therefore look you call me, Ganymede. To think my poverty is treacherous.

But what will you be call'd ? Cel. Dear sovereign, hear me spcak.

Cel. Something that hath a reference to my state, Duke F. Ay, Cclia; we stay'd her for your sake, No longer Celia, but Aliens. Else had she with her father rang'd along.

Ros. But, cousin, what if we assay'd to steal

The clownish (ool out of your father's court? (1) Inveterately. (2) Compassior, 13) A dusky, yellow-coloured earth,

(4) Cutlass, (5) Swaggering.

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Would he not be a comfort to our travel ? p'Tis right, quoth he; this misery doth part

Cel. He'll go along o'er the wide world with me; The flux of company : Anon, a careless herd,^ Leave me alone to woo him: Let's away,

Full of the pasture, jumps along by him,
And get our jewels and our wealth together; And never stays to greet him ; Ny, quoth Jaques,
Devise the fittest time, and safest way

Sweep on, you fat and greasy citizens;
To hide us from pursuit that will be made 'Tis just lhe fashion : Wherefore do you look
After my flight: Now go we in content,

Upori that poor and broken bankrupt there?
To liberty, and not to banishment. [Exeunt. Thus most invcctively he pierceth through

The body of the country, city, court,
Yea, and of this our life; swearing, that we

Are mere usurpers, tyrants, and what's worse,
ACT II.

To fright the animals, and to kill them up,

In their assign'd and native dwelling-place. SCENE I.--The forest of Arden. Enter Duke Duke S. And did you leave him in this contem senior, Amiens, and other Lurds, in the dress of emplo

plation ? Foresters.

2 Lord. We did, my lord, weeping and com

menting Duke S. Now, my co-mates, and brothers in Upon the sobbing decr. exile,

Mike S.

Show me the place; Hath not old custom made this life more sweet I love to copc? him in these sullcn fils, Than that of painted pomp? Are not these woods For then he's full of matter. More free from peril than the envious court?

| 2 Lord. I'll bring you to him straight. (Exeunt. Flere feel we but the penalty of Adam, The seasons' difference; as the icy lang,

SCENE II.-A room in the palace. Enter Duke And churlish chiding of the winter's wind;

Frederick, Lords, and allendants. Which when it bites and blows upon my body, | Duke F. Can it be possible, that no man saw Even till I shrink with cold, I smile, and say;

them? This is no flattery: these are counsellors

It cannot be: some villains of my court That feclingly persuade me what I am.

Are of consent and suflerance in this. Sweet are the uses of adversiy;

| Lord. I cannot hear of any that did see her. Which, like the toad, ugly and venomous,

The ladies, her attendants of her chamber, Wears yet a precious jewel in his head;

Saw her a-bed; and, in the morning early, And this our life, exempt from public háunt, They found the bed untreasur'd of their mistress. Finds tongues in trees, books in the running brooks, 2 Lord. My lord, the roynish: clown, at whom Sermons in stones, and good in every thing.

so oft Imi, I would not change it: Happy is your Your grace was wont to laugh, is also missing. grace,

Hesperia, the princess' gentlewoman, That can translate the stubbornness of fortune Confesses, that she secretly o'erheard Into so quiet and so sweet a style.

Your danghter and her cousin much commend Duke S. Come, shall we go and kill us venison ? The parts and graces of the wrestler, And yet it irks me, the poor dappled fools,

That did but lately foil the sirewy Charles ; Being native burghers of this desert city,

And she believes, wherever they are gonc, Should, in their own cousines, with forked heads That youth is surely in their company. Have their round haunches gord.

Duke F. Send to his brother; ictch that gallant I Lorid.

Indeed, my lord, hither; The melancholy Jaques grieves at that;

If he be absent, bring his brother to me, And, in that kind, swears you do more surp I'll make him find him: do this suddenly: Than doth your brother that hath banish'd you. And let not search and inquisition quail" To-day, my lord of Amiens, and myself,

To bring again these foolish runaways. (Ereunt. Did steal behind him, as he lay along Onder an oak, whose antique root peeps out

SCENE III.-- Before Oliver's house. Enter Or. Upon the brook that brawls along this wood:

lando anul Adam, meeting. To the which place a poor sequester'd stay,

Orl. Who's there? That from the hunters' aim had ta'en a hurt, Adam. What! my young master?-0, my genDid come to languish; and, indeed, my lord,

tle master, The wretched animal heav'd forth such grouns, 0, my sweet master, O you memory That their discharge did stretch his leathern coat of old sir Rowland! why, what make you here? Almost to bursting; and the big round tears Why are you virtuous ? Why do people love you? Cours'd one another down his innocent nose And wherefore are you gentle, strong, and valiant In pilcous chase: and thus the hairy fool, Why would you be so fonds to overcome Much marked of the melancholy Jaques,

The bony priser of the humorous duke? Stood on the extremest verge of the swill brook,

aise is come too s y home before y Augmenting it with tears.

Know you not, master, to some kind of men Drike S.

But what said Jaques ? Their groces serve them but as enemies ? Did he not moralize this spectacle ?

No more do yours: your virtues, gentle master, i Lord. O, yes, into a thousand similes. Are sanctified and holy traitors to you. First, for his weeping in the needless stream; 0, what a world is this, when what is comely Poor deer, quoth he, thou mak'sl a testament Envenoms him that bears it? As worldlings do, giving thy sum of more

Orl, Why, what's the matter? To that which had loo much : Then, being alone, | Adam.

O unhappy youth Lell and abandon'd of his velvet friends;

Come not within these doors; wilhin this roof

Thc cncing of all your graces lives : (1) Barbed arrows. (2) Encounter. (3) Scurvy. Sink into dejcction, (5) Memorial.

(6) Inconsiderate,

You

Your brother-(no, no brother; yet the son Iman's apparel, and to cry like a woman : but I must Yet not the son I will not call him son

comfort the weaker vessel, as doublet and hose Or him I was about to call his father,

Jought to show itself courageous to petticoat: there Hath heard your praises ; and this night he means fore, courage, good Aliena. To burn the lodging where you used to lie, 1. Cel. I pray you, bear with me; I cannot go no And you within it: if he fail of that,

further. He will have other means to cut you off:

Touch. For my part, I had rather bear with you, I overheard him, and his practices.

than bear you: yet I should bear no cross, if I did This is no place, this house is but a butchery ; bear you; for, I think, you have no money in yout Abhor it, fear it, do not enter it.

purse. Orl. Why, whither, Adam, would'st thou have Ros. Well, this is the forest of Arden. me go?

| Touch. Ay, now am I in Arden : the more fool Adam. No matter whither, so you come not here. '; when I was at home, I was in a better place; Orl. What would'st thou have me go and beg but travellers must be content. my food ?

Ros. Ay, be so, good Touchstone :-Look you Or, with a base and boisterous sword, enforce who comes here ; a young man, and an old, in A thievish living on the common road?

solemn talk. This I must do, or know not what to do:

Enler Corin and Silvius.
Yet this I will not do, do how I can;
I rather will subject me to the malice

Cor. That is the way to make her scorn you still. Or a diverted blood, and bloody brother.

Sil. O Corin, that thou knew'st how I do love her! Adam. But do not so: I have five hundred Cor. I partly guess ; for I have lor'd ere now. crowns,

Sil. No, Corin, being old, thou canst not guess; The thrilty hire'I sav'd under your father, Though in thy youth thou wast as true a lorer Which I did store, to be my foster-nurse, As ever sigh'd upon a midnight pillow : When service should in my old limbs lie lame, But if thy love were ever like to mine And unregarded age in corners thrown;

(As sure I think did never man love so,) Take that: and He that doth the ravens feed, How many actions most ridiculous Yea, providently caters for the sparrow,

(Hast thou been drawn to by thy fantasy 1 Be comfort to my age! Here is the gold;

Cor. Into a thousand that I have forgotten. All this I give you : Let me be your servant ; Sil. O, thou didst then ne'er love so heartály: Though I look old, yet I am strong and lusty: Jf thou remember'st not the slightest folly For in my youth I never did apply

That ever love did make thee run into, Hot and rebellious liquors in my blood;

Thou hast not lov'd: Nor did not with unbashful forehead woo

Or if thou hast not sat as I do now, The means of weakness and debility;

Wearying thy hearer in thy mistress' praise,
Therefore my age is as a lusty winter,

Thou hast not lov'd ;
Frosty, but kindly: Let me go with you; Or if thou has not broke from company,
I'll do the service of a younger man

Abruptly, as my passion now makes me.
In all your business and necessities.

Thou hast not lov'd :-O Phebe, Phebe, Phebe! Orl. I good old nan; how well in thee appears

(Erit Silnius, The constant service of the antique world,

Ros. Alas, poor shepherd ! searching of thy When service sweat for duty, not for meed!

wound, Thou art not for the fashion of these times, I have by hard adventure found mine own. Where none will sweat, but for promotion;

Touch. And I mine : I remember, when I was And having that, do choke their service up in love, I broke my sword upon a stone, and bid Even with the having: it is not so with thee. him take that for coming anight* to Jane Smile: But, poor old man, thou prun'st a rotten tree, and I remember the kissing of her batlet,s and the That cannot so much as a blossom yield,

cow's dugs that her pretty chop'd hands had milkid: In lieu of all thy pains and husbandry :

and I remember the wooing of a peascod instead But come thy ways, we'll go along together; of her; from whom I took two cods, and giving And ere we have thy youthful wages spent, her them again, said with weeping tears, Wear We'll light upon some settled low content. these for my sake. We, that are true lovers, run

Adam. Master, go on; and I will follow thee, into strange capers; but as all is mortal in nature, To the last gasp, with truth and loyalty.

so is all nature in love mortal in folly. From seventeen years till now almost fourscore Ros. Thou speak'st wiser, than thou art 'ware of. Here lived I, but now live here no more.

Touch. Nay, I shall ne'er be 'ware of mine own At seventeen years many their fortunes seek ; wit, till I break my shins against it. But at fourscore, it is too late a week ;

Ros. Jove! Jove! this shepherd's passion Yet fortune cannot recompense me better,

Is much upon my fashion. Than to die well, and not my master's debtor. Touch. And mine; but it grows something stale

[Exeunt. with me. SCENE I.-The Forest of Arden.

Cel. I pray you, one of you question yond man,

Enterliche for gold will give us any food;
Rosalind in boy's clothes, Celia drest like a I faint almost to death
Shepherdess, and Touchstone.

Touch. Holla ; you, clown!
Ros. O Jupiter ! how weary are my spirits ! Ros. Peace, fool; he's not thy kinsaan.

Touch. I care not for my spirits, is my legs were Cor. Who calls? pot weary.

Touch. Your belters, sir. Ros. I could find in my heart to disgrace my Cor. Else are they very wretched. (1) Mansion, residence.

(4) In the night. (3) Blood turned from its natural course. • (5) The instrument with which washers best (3) A piece of money stamped with a cross, Iclothes,

Ros.

wab Peace, I say :-Come, sing; and you that will not, hold your Good even to you, friend.

tongues..... Cor. And to you, gentle çir, and to you all.

centla sir, and to you all. lAmi. Well, I'll end the song. Siry, cover the Ros. I pr'ythee, shepherd, if that love, or gold, while ; the duke will drink under this tree iho Can in this desert place buy entertainment, Jhath been all this day to look you. Bring us where we may rest ourselves, and feed : | Jaq. And I have been all this day to avoid him. Here's a young maid with travel much oppress'd, He is too dispútable for my company: I think of And faints for succour.

as many matters as he ; but I give heaven thanks, Cor.

Fair sir, I pity her, and make no boast of them. Come, warble, come. And wish for her sake, more than for mine own,

SONG.
My fortunes were more able to relieve her:
But I am shepherd to another inan,

Who doth ambition shun, (All together here. And do not shear the fleeces that I graze;

And loves to live i' the sun, My master is of churlish disposition,

Seeking the food he eats, And little recks' to find the way to heaven

And pleas'd with what gels, By doing deeds of hospitality :

Come hither, come hither, come hither; Besides, his cote, his flocks, and bounds of feed,

Here shall he see Are now on sale, and at our sheepcote now,

No enemy, By reason of his absence, there is nothing

But winter and rough weather. That you will feed on: but what is, eome see, Jag. I'll give you a verse to this note, that I And in my voice most welcome shall you be. made yesterday in despite of my invention. Ros. What is he that shall buy his flock and Ami. And I'll sing it. pasture ?

Jaq. Thus it goes : Cor. That young swain that you saw here but

If it do come to pass, erewhile,

That any man turn ass, That little cares for buying any thing.

Leaving his wealth and ease, Ros. I pray thee, if it stand with honesty,

A stubborn will to please, Buy thou the cottage, pasture, and the lock,

Ducdame, ducdame, ducdame; And thou shalt have to pay for it of us.

Here shall he see, Cel. And we will mend thy wages : I like this

Gross fools as he place, And willingly could waste my time in it.

An if he will come to Ami. Cor. Assuredly, the thing is to be sold :

Ami. What's that ducdème ? Go with me; if you like, upon report,

Jaq. 'Tis a Greek invocation, to call fools into a The soil, the probit, and this kind of life,

circle. I'll go sleep if I can; if I cannot, I'll rail I will your very faithful feeder be,

against all the first-born of Egypt. And buy it with your gold right suddenly. (Exe. Ami. And I'll go seek the duke; his banquet is

prepar'd.

(Exeunt severally. SCENE V.-The same. Enler Amiens, Jaques, la and others. LES, SCENE VI.-The same. Enter Orlando and

Adam.
SONG.

Adam. Dear master, I can go no further : 0, I Ami. Under the greenwood tree,

die for food! Here lie I down, and measure out Who loves to lie with me,

my grave. Farewell, kind master. And tune his merry note

Orl. Why, how now, Adam! no greater heart Unto the sweet bird's throat,

in thee? Live a little ; comfort a little ; cheer thyCome hither, come hither, come hither;

self a little : If this uncouth forest yield any thing Here shall he see

savage, I will either be food for it, or bring it for No enemy,

food to thee. Thy conceit is nearer death than But winter and rough weather.

thy powers. For my sake, be comfortable ; hold

death a while at the arm's end : I will here be with Jaq. More, more, I prythee, more.

thee presently; and if I bring thee not something Ami. It will make you melancholy, monsieur to eat, I'll give thee leave to die: but if thou diest Jagues.

before I come, thou art a mocker of my labour. Jag. I thank it. More, I pr’ythee, more.. I can Well said ! thou look'st cheerly : and I'll be with suck melancholy out of a song, as a weazel sucks thee quickly.-Yet thou liest in the bleak air: eggs: More, I pr’ythee, more.

Come, I will bear thee to some shelter; and thou Ami. My voice is ragged ;? I know, I cannot shalt not die for lack of a dinner, if there live any please you.

|thing in this desert. Cheerly, good Adam! (Eze. Jaq. I do not desire you to please me, I do desire you to sing : Come, more; another stanza; Call SCENE VII.-The same. A table set out. Enter ! you them stanzas ?

Duke senior, Amiens, Lords, and others.
Ami. What you will, monsieur Jaques.
Jaq. Nay, I care not for their names; they owel,

Duke S. I think he be transform'd into a beast; me nothing: Will you sing?

For I can no where find him like a man. Ami. More at your request, than to please myself.,

ell Lord. My lord, he is but even now gone hence ; Jag. Well then, if ever I thank any man, l'ilHere was he merry, hearing of a song. thank you: but that they call compliment, is likel,

Il compliment is likel Duke S. If he, compact of jars,* grow musical, the encounter of two dog-apes; and when a man

nWe shall have shortly discord in the spheres :thanks me heartily, methinks I'have given him al Go, seek him; tell him, I would speak with him. penny, and he records me the beggarly thanks.

Enter Jaques. (1) Cares.

1 Lord. He saves my labour by his own approach, (2) Ragged and rugged had formerly the same meaning,

1 (3) Disputatious. : (4) Made up of discorda, i

Duke S. Why, how now, monsieur! what a life The cost of princes on unworthy shoulders ? is this,

Who can come in, and say, that I mean her, That your poor friends must woo vour company? When such a one as she, such is her neighbour? What? you look merrily.

Or what is he of basest function,
Jag. Å fool, a fool! I met a fool i' the forest, That says, his bravery? is not on my cost
A motley fool;-a miserable world!

(Thinking that I mean him,) but therein suits As I do live by food, I met a fool;

His folly to the mettle of my speech? Who laid him down and bask'd him in the sun, There then; How, what then? Let me see wherein And rail'd on lady Fortune in good terms, My tongue hath wrong'd him: if it do him right, In good set terms-and yet a motley fool.

Then he hath wrong'd hinself; if he be frec, Good-morrow, fool, quoth I: No, sir, quoth he, Why then, my taxing like a wild goose flics, Call me not fool, till heaven hath sent nie forlune : Unclai:n'd of any man.-But who comes here? And then he drew a dial from his poke; And looking on it with lack-lustre eye,

Enter Orlando, wilh his sword drawn. Says, very wisely, Il is ten o'clock :

Orl. Forbcar, and eat no more. Thus may we see, quoth he, how the world wags :

Jag.

Why, I have eat none yet. 'Tis but an hour ago, since it was nine;

Orl. Nor shalt not, till necessity be serv'd. And after an hour more, 'will be eleven ;

Jaq. Of what kind should this cock come of? And so, from hour to hour, we ripe, and ripe,

Duke S. Art thou thus bolden'd, man, by thy And then, from hour to hour, we rol, and rol,

distress; And thereby hangs a tale. When I did hear

Or clse a rude despiser of good manners, The motley fool thus moral on the time,

That in civilily thou seem'st so empty? My lungs began to crow like chanticleer,

Orl. You touch'd my vein at first; the thorny That fools should be so deep-contemplative;

point And I did laugh, sans intermission,

los bare distress hath ta'en from me the show An hour by his dial.- noble fool!

Of smooth civility: yet am I inland bred, A worthy fool! Motley's the only wear.'

And know some nuriure :: But forbear, I say; Duke S. What fool is this?

He dies, that touches any of this fruit, Jaq. O worthy fool!-One that hath been a Till I and my affairs are answered. courtier;

Jaq. An you will not be answered with reason, And says, if ladies be but young, and fair,

I must die. They have the gift to know it : and in his brain, Duke 8. What would you have? Your gentleWhich is as dry as the remainder bisket

ness shall force, After a voyage,-he hath strange places cramm'd More than your force move us to gentlencss. With observation, the which he vents

Orl. I alinost die for food, and let me have it. In mangled forms:-0, that I were a fool! | Duke S. Sit down and feed, welcome to our I am ambitious for a motley coat.

table. Duke S. Thou shalt have one.

It is my only suit ;

Orl. Speak you so gently ? Pardon me, I pray

you: Provided, that you weed your better judginents I thoughi that all things had been savage here; Of all opinion that grows rank in thein,

And therefore put I on the countenance That I am wise. I must have liberty

Or stern commandment: But whate'er you are, Withal, as large a charter as the wind,

That in this desert inaccessible, To blow on whom I please; for so fools havc:

Under the shade of melancholy boughs, And they that are most galled with my folly, Lose and neglect the creeping hours of time; They most must laugh: And why, sir, must they so? 11'cver you have look'd on beiter days: The why is plain as way to parish church:

I ever been where bells have knoll'to church; He, that a fool doth very wisely hit,

If ever sat at any good man's feast; Poth very foolishly, although he smart,

If ever from your eye-lids wip'd a tear, Not to seem senseless of the bob: if not,

And know what 'lis to pity, and be pilied; The wise man's folly is anatomiz'd

Let gentleness my sirois enforcement be: Even by the squandering glances of the fool.

In the which hope, 1 blush, and hide iny sword. Invest me in my motlev: give me leave

| Duke S. True is it that we have seen better To speak my mind, and I will through and through

days: Cleanse the foul body of the infected world, And have with holy bcll been knoll'l to church; If they will patiently reccive my medicinc.

And sat at good men's feasts; and wip'd our eyes Duke S. Fie on chce! I can tell what thou of drops that sacred pily hath engender'd : would'st do.

And therefore sit you down in gentleness, Jag. What, for a counter, would I do, but good ? And take upon command what help we have,

Dike S. Most mischievous foul sin, inchiding sin:That to your wanting may be ministred. For thou thyself hast been a libertine,

Orl. Then, but forbear your food a little while, As sensual as the brutish sting itsell;

Whiles, like a doe, I go to find my faiyn, And all the embossed sores, and hcaded cvils

And give it food. There is an old poor inan, That thou with license of free foot hast caught, Who after me hath many a weary step Would'st thou disgorge into the general world.

Limp'd in pure love; till hc be first siiffic'd, Jaq. Why, who cries out on pride,

Oppress'd with two week evils, age and hunger,That can therein tax any private party?

I will not touch a bit. Doth it not flow as hugely as the sea,

Duke S.

Go find him out, Till that the very very means do ebb?

And we will nothing waste till you retum. What woman in the city do I name,

Orl. I thank yc; and be bless'd for your rood When that I say, The city-woman bears

comfort!

[Erit, (1) The fool was anciently dressed in a party- (2) Finerv. (3) Well brought up coloured coat,

(4) Good manners.

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