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Clo. And mine; but it grows fomething ftale with me.
If he for gold will give us any food;
I faint almoft to death.
Clo. Holla; you, Clown!
Rof. Peace, fool; he's not thy kinsman.
Clo. Your Betters, Sir.
Cor. Elfe they are very wretched.
Rof. Peace, I fay; good even to you, friend.
Cor. Fair Sir, I pity her,
And wish for her fake, more than for mine own,
And little wreaks to find the way to heav'n
Befides, his Coate, his flocks, and bounds of feed
And in my voice moft welcome shall you be.
Rof. What is he, that fhall buy his flock and pasture! Cor. That young fwain, that you faw here but ere while, That little cares for burying any thing.
Rof. I pray thee, if it stand with honefty,
Buy thou the cottage, pasture and the flock,
I like this place, and willingly could wafte
Cor. Affuredly the thing is to be fold;
Go with me; if you like, upon report,
SCENE changes to a defert Part of the FOREST.
Enter Amiens, Jaques, and others.
But winter and rough weather.
Faq. More, more, I pr'ythee, more.
Ami. It will make you melancholy, Monfieur Jaques Faq. I thank it; more, I pr'ythee, more; I can fuck melancholy out of a Song, as a weazel fucks more, I pr'ythee, more.
eggs: Ami. My voice is rugged; I know, I cannot please you.
Jaq. I do not defire you to please me, I do defire you to fing; come, come, another stanzo; call you 'em
Ami. What you will, Monfieur Jaques.
Jaq. Nay, I care not for their names, they owe mę nothing Will you fing?
Ami. More at your request, than to please myself.
Jaq. 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, methinks, I have 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 fong, 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 difputable 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, come.
Faq. I'll give you a verfe to this note, that I made yesterday in defpight of my invention.
Ami. And I'll fing it.
Jaq. Thus it goes.
If it do come to pass,
Here fhall be fee
Grofs fools as he,
An' if he will come to me,
Ami. What's that ducdame?
Jaq. Tis a Greek invocation, to call fools into circle. I'll go to fleep if I can; if I cannot, I'll rail against all the first born of Egypt.
Ami. And I'll go feek the Duke: his banquet is pre[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 out 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. For 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 fomething to eat, I'll give thee leave to die. But if thou dieft before I come, thou art a mocker of my labour. Well faid, thou look'st cheerly. And I'll be with thee quickly; yet thou lieft in the bleak air. Come, I will bear thee to fome fhelter, and thou shalt not die for lack of a dinner, if there live any thing in this defert. Cheerly, good Adam.
Enter Duke Sen. and Lords.
[A Table fet out.
Duke Sen. I think, he is transform'd into a beast, For I can no where find him like a man.
1 Lord. My Lord he is but even now gone hence: Here was he merry, hearing of a fong.
Duke Sen. If he, compact of jars, grow, mufical,
1. Lord. He faves my labour by his own approach. Duke Sen. Why, how now, Monfieur, what a life is this? That your poor friends muft woo your company?
What! you look merrily.
Jaq. A fool, a fool;
-I met a fool i'th' foreft,
A motley fool; a miferable world!
As I do live by food, I met a fool,
Who laid him down and bask'd him in the fun,
Good-morrow, fool, quoth I: No, Sif, quoth he,
Call me not fool, 'till heaven hath fent me fortune;
And looking on it with lack luftre eye,
Thus may we fee, quoth he, how the world wags:
Jaq. O worthy fool! one that hath been a Courtier, And fays, if ladies be but young and fair,
They have the gift to know it: and in his brain,
In mangled forms. O that I were a fool!
Duke Sen. Thou shalt have one.
Provided, that you weed your better judgments
To blow on whom I pleafe; for fo fools have;
They moft muft laugh: and why, Sir, must they fo
(6) He whom a Fool doth very wifely bit, Deth very foolishly, although be fmart,