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Wears yet a precious jewel in his head :

And this our life, exempt from public haunt,

Finds tongues in trees, books in the running brooks,
Sermons in ftones, and good in every thing.
-Come, fhall we go, and kill us venifon ?
And yet it irks me, the poor dappled fools,
Being native burghers of this defert city,
Should, in their own confines, with forked heads,
Have their round haunches gor'd.
LORD. Indeed, my Lord,

The melancholy Jaques grieves much at that;
And in that kind fwears you do more ufurp,
Than doth your brother that hath banish'd you.
To-day my lord of Amiens, and myself,
Did fteal behind him as he lay along
Under an oak, whofe antique root peeps out
Upon the brook that brawls along this wood ;
To the which place a poor fequeftered ftag,
That from the hunter's aim had ta'en a hurt,
Did come to languish; and, indeed, my lord,
The wretched animal heav'd forth fuch groans,
That their discharge did stretch his leathern coat.
Almoft to bursting; and the big round tears
Cours'd one another down his innocent nofe
In piteous chase; and thus the hairy fool,
Much marked of the melancholy Jaques,
Stood on th' extremeft verge of the swift brook
Augmenting it with tears.

DUKE. But what faid Jaques?
Did he not moralize this fpectacle?

LORD. O yes, into a thousand fimilies,
First, for his weeping in the needlefs ftream;
Poor Deer, quoth he, thou makʼst a testament:
As worldlings do, giving thy fum of more
To that which had too much. Then being alone,

Left

Left and abandon'd of his velvet friends;

'Tis right, quoth he, thus mifery doth part The flux of company. Anon a careless herd, Full of the pafture, jumps along by him,

look

And never stays to greet him: Ay, quoth Jaques,
Sweep on, you fat and greafy citizens,
'Tis juft the fashion: wherefore do you
Upon that poor and broken bankrupt there?
Thus moft invectively he pierceth through
The body of the country, city, court,
Yea, and of this our life, fwearing that we
Are mere ufurpers, tyrants, and what's worse,
To fright the animals, and to kill them up
In their affign'd and native dwelling place.

DUKE. And did you leave him in this contemplation LORD. We did, my lord, weeping and commenting Upon the fobbing deer.

DUKE. Show me the place;

I love to cope him in these fullen fits,

For then he's full of matter.

LORD, I'll bring you to him ftraight.

CHAP. X.

DUKE AND JAQUES.

SHAKSPEAREL

DUKE. WHY, how now, Monfieur, what a life is this,
That your poor friends must woo your company?
What you look merrily.

JAQ. A fool, a fool ;--I met a fool i' th' foreft,

A motley fool; a miserable varlet!.

As I do live by food, I met a fool,

Who laid him down and bask'd him in the fun,
And rail'd on lady Fortune in good terms,
In good fet terms, and yet a motley fool.

Good

Good morrow, fool, quoth I; No, Sir, quoth he;
Call me not fool, till Heaven hath fent me fortune;
And then he drew a dial from his poke,
And looking on it with lack-luftre eye,
Says very wifely, It is ten o'clock:

Thus may we fee, quoth he, how the world wags:
'Tis but an hour ago fince it was nine,

And after one hour more 'twill be eleven;
And fo from hour to hour we ripe and ripe,
And then from hour to hour we rot and rot,
And thereby hangs a tale. When I did hear
The motley fool thus moral on the time,
My lungs began to crow like chanticleer,
That fools fhould be fo deep contemplative:
And I did laugh,, fans intermiffion,
An hour by his dial. O noble fool,

A worthy fool! motley's the only wear.

DUKE. What fool is this?

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,

Which is as dry as the remainder bifcuit

After a voyage, he hath ftrange places cramm'd
With obfervations, the which he vents

In mangled forms. Othat I were a fool!
I am ambitious for a motley coat.
DUKE. Thou shalt have one.

JAQ. It is my only fuit;

Provided that you weed your better judgments
Of all opinion, that grows rank in them,
That I am wife. I must have liberty
Withal, as large a charter as the wind,
To blow on whom I pleafe; for fo fools have,

And they that are most galled with my folly

They moft must laugh. And why, Sir, muft they fo?

The

The why is plain, as way to parish church;
He whom a fool does very wifely hit,
Doth very foolishly, although he fmart,
Not to feem fenfelefs of the bob. If not,
The wife man's folly is anatomiz'd

Even by the fquandering glances of a fool.
Inveft me in my motley, give me leave
To fpeak my mind, and I will through and through
Cleanse the foul body of th' infected world,

If they will patiently receive my medicine.

DUKE. Fie on thee! I can tell what thou would't do. JAQ. What, for a counter, would I do but good? DUKE. Moft mifchievous foul fin, in chiding fin;

For thou thyself haft been a libertine,

And all the emboffed fores and headed evils,
'I hat thou with license of free foot haft caught,
Wouldst thou difgorge into the general world.
JAQ Why, who cries out on pride,
That can therein tax any private party?
Doth it not flow as hugely as the fea,
Till that the very means do ebb?
What woman in the city do I name,
When that I fay the city-woman bears
The cost of princes on unworthy shoulders!
Who can come in, and fay, that I mean her;
When fuch a one as fhe, fuch is her neighbour?
Or what is he of basest function,

That fays his bravery is not on my coft;

Thinking that I mean him, but therein fuits

His folly to the metal of my fpeech?

There then; how then? what then? let me fee wherein

My tongue has wrong'd him if it do him right,

:

Then he hath wrong'd himfelf; if he be free,

Why, then my taxing, like a wild goofe, flies
Unclaim'd of any man.

SHAKSPEARE.

CHAP. XI.

HENRY AND LORD CHIEF JUSTICE. CH. JUST. I AM affur'd, if I be meafur'd rightly, Your majesty hath no just cause to hate me.

P. HENRY. No, might a prince of my great hopes forget

So great indignities you laid upon me?"

What! rate, rebuke, and roughly send to prifon
Th' immediate heir of England! was this eafy ?
May this be wafh'd in Lethe and forgotten?

CH. JUST. I then did ufe the perfon of your father;
The image of his power lay then in me:
And in th' adminiftration of his law,
While I was bufy for the commonwealth,
Your highnefs pleased to forget my place,
The majesty and power of law and justice,
The image of the king whom I prefented;
And ftruck me in my very feat of judgment
Whereon, as an offender to your father,
I gave bold way to my authority,
And did commit you. If the deed were ill,
Be you contented, wearing now the garland,
To have a fon fet your decrees at nought:
To pluck down juftice from your awful bench,
To trip the course of law, and blunt the fword
That guards the peace and fafety of your perfon
Nay more, to spurn at your most royal image,
And mock your working in a fecond body.
Queftion your royal thoughts, make the cafe yours;
Be now the father, and propofe a fon;

Hear your own dignity fo much profan'd;
See your moft dreadful laws fo loosely flighted;
Behold yourself so by a fon disdain'd:

And

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