Shakespeare's Comedy of As You Like it

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J.M. Dent, 1894 - 143 pages

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Page 28 - The seasons' difference ; as the icy fang 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 10 That feelingly persuade me what I am.
Page 49 - I thought that all things had been savage here, And therefore put I on the countenance Of stern commandment. But whate'er you are That in this desert inaccessible, Under the shade of melancholy boughs, Lose and neglect the creeping hours of time...
Page 34 - O good old man ; how well in thee appears The constant service of the antique world, When service sweat for duty, not for meed...
Page 6 - They say he is already in the forest of Arden, and a many merry men with him; and there they live like the old Robin Hood of England: they say many young gentlemen flock to him every day, and fleet the time carelessly, as they did in the golden world.
Page 55 - ... life it is naught In respect that it is solitary I like it very well; but in respect that it is private it is a very vile life. Now, in respect it is in the fields it pleaseth me well; but in respect it is not in .the court it is tedious. As it is a spare life, look you, it fits my humour well ; but as there is no more plenty in it, it goes much against my stomach.
Page 34 - Though I look old, yet I am strong and lusty ; For in my youth I never did apply Hot and rebellious liquors in my blood, Nor did not with unbashful forehead woo 50 The means of weakness and debility ; Therefore my age is as a lusty winter, Frosty, but kindly : let me go with you ; I'll do the service of a younger man In all your business and necessities.
Page 29 - To-day, my lord of Amiens and myself Did steal behind him, as he lay along Under an oak, whose antique root peeps out Upon the brook that brawls along this wood...
Page 34 - When service should in my old limbs lie lame, And unregarded age in corners thrown : Take that, and He that doth the ravens feed, Yea, providently caters for the sparrow, Be comfort to my age ! Here is the gold ; All this I give you.
Page 52 - Although thy breath be rude. Heigh-ho ! sing, heigh-ho ! unto the green holly : Most friendship is feigning, most loving mere folly : Then, heigh-ho, the holly ! This life is most jolly. Freeze, freeze, thou bitter sky, That dost not bite so nigh As benefits forgot : Though thou the waters warp, Thy sting is not so sharp As friend remember'd not.
Page 51 - With spectacles on nose and pouch on side, His youthful hose, well saved, a world too wide For his shrunk shank ; and his big manly voice, Turning again toward childish treble, pipes And whistles in his sound. Last scene of all, That ends this strange eventful history, Is second childishness and mere oblivion, Sans teeth, sans eyes, sans taste, sans every thing.

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