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That I am wise. I must have liberty
do. Jaq. What, for a counter, would I do, but good? Duke S. Most mischievous foul sin, in chiding
For thou thyself hast been a libertine,
Jaq. Why, who cries out on pride,
Who can come in, and say, that I mean her, When such a one as she, such is her neighbour? Or what is he of basest function, That says, his bravery is not on my cost, (Thinking that I mean him,) but therein suits His folly to the mettle of my speech? There then; How, what then? Let me see wherein · 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 his sword drawn.
Why, I have eat none yet.
Orl. You touch'd my vein at first; the thorny point Of bare distress hath ta'en from me the show Of smooth civility: yet am I inland bred, And know some nurture :8 But forbear, I say; He dies, that touches any
of this fruit, Till I and my affairs are answered.
Jaq. An you will not be answered with reason, I must die. Duke S. What would you have? Your gentleness
7 Well brought up.
& Good manners.
More than your force move us to gentleness.
Orl. I almost die for food, and let me have it. Duke S. Sit down and feed, and welcome to our
table. Orl. Speak you so gently? Pardon me, I pray you: 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; If ever you have look'd on better days, If ever been where bells have knoll’d to church ; If ever sat at any good man's feast; If ever from your eye-lids wip'd a tear, And know what 'tis to pity, and be pitied; Let gentleness my strong enforcement be: In the which hope, I blush, and hide my sword.
Duke S. True is it that we have seen better days; And have with holy bell been knoll’d to church; And sat at good men's feasts ; and wip'd our eyes Of drops that sacred pity hath engender'd: And therefore sit you down in gentleness, And take upon command what help we have, That to your wanting may be ministred.
Orl. 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.
Go find him out, And we will nothing waste till you
return. Orl. I thank ye; and be bless'd for your good comfort!
[Exit. Duke S. Thou seest, we are not all alone un
All the world's a stage,
For his shrunk shank; and his big manly voice,
Re-enter ORLANDO, with Adam. Duke S. Welcome: Set down your venerable
burden, And let him feed. Orl.
I thank you most for him.
Duke S. Welcome, fall to: I will not trouble you As yet, to question you about your fortunes :Give us some musick; and, good cousin, sing.
As man's ingratitude ;
Although thy breath be rude.
Then, heigh, ho, the holly!
This life is most jolly.