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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 Sword drawn.
Orla. Forbear, and eat no more.
Jaq. Why, I have eat none yet.
Orla. Nor shalt not, 'till necessity be serv'd.
Jaq. Of what kind should this Cock come of?
Duke Sen. Art thou thus bolden'd, man, by thy dis.

tress? Or elle a rude despiser of good manners, That in civility thou seem'ft so empty?

Orla. You couch'd my vein at first, the thorny point Of bare distress hath ta'en from me the Thew Of smooth civility; yet am I in-land bred, And know some nurture: but forbear, I say: He dies, that touches any of this fruit, 'Till I and my affairs are answered.

Jaq. If you will not Be answered with reason, I must die. Duke Sen. What would you have? Your gentleness

shall force, More than your force move us to gentleness.

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 cherefore put I on the countenance Of stern commandment. But whate'er you are, That in this desart inaccessible, Under the shade of melancholy boughs, Lose and neglect the creeping hours of timc; If ever you have look'd on better days ; If ever been where bells have knoll'd to church If ever sate at any good man's feaft; If ever from your eyelids wip'd a tear, And know what 'tis to pity, and be picied;


Let gentleness my strong enforcement be,
In the which hope I blush, and hide my sword.

Duke Sen. True is it, that we have seen better days;
And have with holy bell been knoll'd to church;
And sate at good men's feasts, and wip'd our eyes
Of drops, that sacred 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 suffic'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 com

[Exit. Duke Sen. Thou seest, we are not all alone unhappy: This wide and universal Theatre's Presents more woful pageants, than the scene Wherein we play in.

Jaq. All the world's a Stage, And all the men and women meerly 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 'satchel, And shining morning-face, creeping like snail Unwillingly to school. And then, the lover; Sighing like furnace, with a woful ballad Made to his mistress' eye-brow. Then, a soldier; Full of strange oaths, and bearded like the pard, Jealous in honour, sudden and quick in quarrel; Seeking the bubble reputation Even in the cannon's mouth. And then, the juftice In fair round belly, with good capon lin'd,

With eyes fevere, and beard of formal cut;
Full of wise faws (13) and modern instances,
And so he Plays his part. The sixt hage lifts
Into the lean and flipper'd pantaloon,
With spectacles on nose, and pouch on side;
His youthful hose well fav'd, a world too wide
For his shrunk shank; and his big manly voice,

Turning again toward childish treble, pipes,
And whistles in his found. Last Scene of all,
That ends this strange eventful History,
Is second childishness, and meer oblivion,
Sans teeth, sans eyes, fans taste, sans every thing.

Enter Orlando, with Adam.
Duke Sen. Welcome; set down your venerable bur-

And let him feed.

Orla. I thank you most for him.

Adam. So had you need,
I scarce can speak to thank you for my self.

Duke Sen. Welcome, fall to: I will not trouble you, As yet to question you


fortunes. Give us some musick; and, good cousin, sing.

Blow, blow, thou winter wind,
Thou art not so unkind

As man's ingratitude ;
Thy tooth is not so keen,
Because thou art not seen,

Altho' thy breath be rude.
Heigh ho! fing, beigh ho! unto the green bolly;
Most friendship is feigning; most loving meer. folly :

Then heigh ho, the holly!

This life is most jolly. (13)

and modern Instances,] It is very observable that Shakespeare uses modern exactly in the manner the Greeks used xouvos ; which fignifies sometimes in their Writings noths, recens; and sometimes abfurdus.

Mr. Warburton.


Fréeži, freeze, thou bitter 'sky, -
That doft not bite fo nigh

As benefits forgot :
Tho' thou the waters warpa
Tby sting is not so foarp

As friend remembred not.

Heigh hol Ang; &c.
Duke Sen. If that you were the good Sir Rowland's

As you have whisper'd faithfully you were,
And as mine eye doth his effigies witness,
Most truly limn'd, and living in your face,
Be truly welcome hither. I'm the Duke,
That lov'd your Father. The

refidue of your fortune
Go to my cave and tell me. Good old Man,
Thou art right welcome, as thy master is,
Support him by the arm; give me your hand,
And let me all your fortunes underftand. [Exeunt.

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Enter Duke, Lords, and Oliver.

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TOT see him since? Sir, Sir, that cannot be:

But were I not the better part made mercy,

I should not seek an absent argument
Of my revenge, thou present: but look to it;
Find out thy brother, whereroe'er he is ;
Seek him with candle: bring him dead or living,
Within this twelvemonth ; or turn thou no more
To seek a living in our territory.


Thy lands and all things that thou dost call thine,
Worth seizure, do we seize into our hands ;
'Till thou canst quit thee by thy brother's mouth,
Of what we think against thee.

Oli. Oh, that your Highness knew my heart in this:
I never lov'd my Brother in my life.
Duke. More villain thou. Well, push him out of

doors ; And let my officers of such a nature Make an Extent upon his house and lands : Do this expediently, and turn him going. [Excunt. SCENE changes to the Forest.

Enter Orlando. Orla. Ang there, my

And thou thrice-crowned Queen of Night

survey, With thy chaste eye, from thy palc sphere above,

Thy huntress' name that my full life doth sway. O Rosalind! these trees shall be my books,

And in their barks my thoughts I'll character; That every eye, which in this Forest looks,

Shall see thy virtue witness'd every where. Run, run, Orlando, carve, on every tree, The fair, the chaste, and unexpressive She. [Exit.

Enter Corin and Clown. Cor. And how like you this shepherd's life, Mr. Touchftone ?

Clo. Truly, shepherd, in respect of it self, it is a good life; but in respect that it is a shepherd's 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, i goes much against my stomach. Hast any philosophy in thee, shepherd ?


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