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Clo. And mine ; but it grows something itale with me.
Cel. I pray you, one of you question yond man,
Clo. Holla; you, Clown !
Rof. I pr’ythee, shepherd, if that love or gold
Cor. Fair Sir, I pity her,
Rof. What is he, that shall buy his flock and pasture !
Cor. That young swain, that you saw here but ere while, That little cares for burying any thing.
Rol. I pray thee, if it stand with honesty,
Cel. And we will mend thy wages.
Cor. Afluredly the thing is to be sold;
Go with me ; if you like, upon report,
SCENE changes to a defert Part of the FOREST,
Enter Amiens, Jaques, and others.
Jag. More, more, I prythee, more.
Jaq. I thank it; more, I pr’ythee, more; I fuck melancholy out of a Song, as a weazel sucks eggs : more, I pr’ythee, 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 Atanzo; call you 'em Itanzo's ?
Ami. What you will, Monsieur Jaques.
Jag. Nay, I care not for their names, they owe me nothing -Will you fing?
Ami. More at your request, than to please myfelf.
Jag. 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, mechinks, i bave 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, comc.
Here fall be fee
But winter and rough weather.
Ami. And l'll fing it.
If it do come to pass,
Here shall be fee
Gross fools as he,
An' if he will come to make
Jaq. 'Tis a Greek invocation, to call fools into
(Exeuni, jeverally. Enter Orlando and Adam. Adam. Dear master, I can go no further ; O, I die
for food! here lie I down, and measure qut my grave Farewel, kind master.
Orla. Why, how now, Adam! no greater heart in thee? live a little ; comfort a little ; cheer thyfelf a little. If this uncouth foreft yield any thing favage, I will either be food for it, or bring it for food to thee: thy conceit is nearer death, than thy powers. Por my fake be comfortable, hold death a while at the arm's end : I will be here with thee prefently, 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'it cheerly. And I'll be with thee quickly; yet thou lieft in the bleak air. Come, I will bear thee to some shelter, and thou halt not die for lack of a dinner, if there live any thing in this desert. Cheerly, good Adam.
i Lord. My Lord he is bot even now gone hence: Here was ne merry, bearing of a song.
Duke Sen. If he, compact of jars, grow musical,
Duke Sen. Why, how now, Monsieur, what a life is this?
Jag. A fool, a fool; I met a fool i'th' forest,
Call me not fool, 'till heaven hath sent me fortune;
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 bikket 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 wise. I must have liberty Withal, as large a charter as the wind, To blow on whom I please ; for fo fools have; And they that are most galled with my folly, They most must laugh : and why, Sir, muft they fo?
The why is plain, as way to parish church; (6) He, whom a fool doth very wisely hit,
(6) He wbum a Fool doth very wisely bit, Dath very foolijhly, although be smarlyn