Heaven grant my mother play'd my father fair!
For fuch a warped flip of wilderness

Ne'er iffu'd from his blood. Take my defiance,
Die, perish Might my only bending down
Reprieve thee from thy fate, it fhould proceed.
I'll pray a thoufand prayers for thy death;
No word to fave thee.

Claud. Nay, hear me, Isabel.
Ifab. Oh, fie, fie, fie!

Thy fin's not accidental, but a trade;
Mercy to thee would prove itself a bawd;
"Tis beft, that thou dy't quickly.

Claud. Oh, hear me, Isabel.

Enter Duke and Provost.

Duke. Vouchfafe a word, young fifter; but one word, Ifab. What is your will?

Duke. Might you difpenfe with your leifure, I would by and by have fome fpeech with you; the fatisfaction I would require, is likewife your own benefit.

Ifab. I have no fuperfluous leifure; my ftay must be ftolen out of other affairs; but I will attend you awhile.

Duke. [To Claudio afide.] Son, I have over-heard what hath paffed between you and your fifter. Angelo had never the purpose to corrupt her; only he hath made an affay of her virtue, to practise his judgment with the difpofition of natures. She, having the truth of honour in her, hath made him that gracious denial, which he is moft glad to receive: I am confeffor to Angelo, and I know this to be true; therefore prepare yourself to death. Do not fatisfy your refolution with hopes that are fallible: to-morrow you muft die; go to your knees, and make ready.

Claud. Let me ak my fitter pardon. I am fo out of love with life, that I will fue to be rid of it.

[Exit Claud

N° III

No. III.-AS YOU LIKE IT.

ACT. II. SCENE VII. Foreft.

Enter Duke Sen. and Lords.

DUKE Sen.

[A Table fet out.

I Think he is transform into a beaft,

For I can no where find him like a man.

I Lord. My Lord, he is but even now gone hence; Here was he merry, hearing of a song.

Duke Sen. If he, compact of jars, grow mufical, We shall have shortly discord in the spheres.

Go, seek him. Tell him, I would fpeak with him.

Enter Jaques.

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' the forest,

A motley fool-a miferable world

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

Who laid him down and bafk'd him in the fun,
And rail'd on Lady Fortune in good terms,

In good fet terms-and yet a motley fool.

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,

K. 5

An

An hour by his dial. O noble fool,

A worthy fool-motley's the only wear.
Duke Sen. 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 biscuit
After a voyage, he hath strange places cramm'd
With obfervation, the which he vents
In mangled forms. O that I were a fool!
I am anibitious for a motley coat.

Duke Sen. 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 moft galled with my folly,
They moft must laugh: and why, Sir, muft they fo?
The holy is plain, as way to parish-church :
He, whom a fool doth very wifely hit,
Doth very foolishly, although he smart,
Not to feem fenfelefs of the bob.

"The wife man's folly is anatomiz'd

If not,

Even by the fquand'ring glances of a fool.
Inveft me in my motley, give me leave

To fpeak my mind, and I will through and through
Cleanfe the foul body of the infected world,

If they will patiently receive my medicine.

Duke Sen. Fie on thee! I can tell what thou would't do. Jaq. What, for a counter, would I do but good? Duke Sen. Moft mifchievous foul fin, in chiding fin: For thou thyself haft been a libertine,

As fenfual as the brutish fting itself;

And all the emboffed fores and headed evils,
That thou with licence 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,

T

Till that the very 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 baseft function,

That fays, his bravery is not on my coft;
Thinking, that I mean him; but therein suits
His folly to the metal of my fpeech?

There then; how then? what then? Let me fee 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 goofe, flies
Unclaim'd of any man- But who comes here?

Enter Orlando, with a fword drawn.

Orla. Forbear, and eat no more.

Jaq. Why, I have eat none yet.

Orla. Nor fhalt thou till neceffity be ferv'd.

Jaq. What kind should this cock come of?

Duke Sen. Art thou thus bolden'd, man, by thy diftrefs; Or else a rude despiser of good manners,

The thorny point

That in civility thou feem'ft fo empty?
Orla. You touch'd my vein at firft.
Of bare diftrefs hath ta'en from me the thew
Of fmooth civility; yet am I inland-bred,
And know fome nurture. But forbear, I fay:
He dies that touches any of this fruit,

Till I and my affairs are answer'd.

Jaq. If you will not

Be anfwered with reafon, I must die.

Duke Sen. What would you have? Your gentleness shall

More than your force move us to gentleness.

Orla. I almoft die for food, and let me have it.

[force

Duke Sen. Sit down and feed; and welcome to our table.
Orla. Speak you fo gently ?-Pardon me, I pray you;

I thought that all things had been favage here;

And therefore put I on the countenance

Of ftern commandment. But whate'er you are,
That in this defert inacceffible,

Under the fhade of melancholy boughs,

K 6

Lofe

Lofe 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 fate at any good man's feast ;
If ever from your eyelids wip'd a tear,
And know what 'tis to pity, and be pitied;
Let gentleness my firong enforcement be:
In the which hope I blush, and hide my fword.

[Sheathing the fword.
Duke Sen. True it is, that we have feen better days;
And have with holy bell been knoll'd to church;
And fate at good men's feasts, and wip'd our eyes
Of drops, that facred 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 miniftred.

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 ftep
Limp'd in pure love: till he be first fuffic'd,
Opprefs'd with two weak evils, age and hunger,
I will not touch a bit.

Duke Sen. Go, find him out,

And we will nothing wafte till you return.

Orla. I thank ye; and be blefs'd for your good comfort!

Duke Sen. Thou feeft, we are not all alone unhappy: 'This wide and univerfal theatre

[Exit.

Presents more woful pageants, than the scene
Wherein we play.

Jaq. All the world's a ftage,

And all the men and women merely players:
They have their exits and their entrances;
And one man in his time plays many parts,
His acts being feven ages. At firft the infant,
Mewling and puking in the nurse's arms,
And then the whining school-boy with his fatchel,
And fhining morning-face, creeping like fnail
Unwilingly to school. And then, the lover;
Sighing like furnace, with a woful ballad

Made