The seasons' difference; as the icy fang, Which, like the toad, ugly and venomous, Wears yet a precious jewel in his head; And this our life, exempt from public haunt, BEAUTY. Beauty provoketh thieves sooner than gold. REFLECTIONS ON THE WOUNDED STAG. Duke S. Come, shall we go and kill us venison ? And yet it irks me, the poor dappled fools,Being native burghers of this desert city,Should, in their own confines, with forked heads* Have their round haunches gored. 1 Lord. Indeed, my lord, The melancholy Jaques grieves at that; And, in that kind, swears you do more usurp Did steal behind him, as he lay along Under an oak, whose antique root peeps out * Barbed arrows, That their discharge did stretch his leathern coat Stood on the extremest verge of the swift brook, Duke S. But what said Jaques ? Did he not moralize this spectacle ? 1 Lord. O, yes, into a thousand similes. First, for his weeping in the needless stream! Poor deer, quoth he, thou mak'st a testament As worldlings do, giving thy sum of more To that which had too much: Then, being alone Left and abandon'd of his velvet friends; 'Tis right, quoth he; this misery doth part The flux of company: Anon, a careless herd, Full of the pasture, jumps along by him, And never stays to greet him; Ay, quoth Jaques, Sweep on, you fat and greasy citizens; 'Tis just the fashion: Wherefore do you look Upon that poor and broken bankrupt there? GRATITUDE IN AN OLD SERVANT. But do not so: I have five hundred crowns, Hot and rebellious liquors to my blood: : Good-morrow, fool, quoth I: No, sir, quoth he, And looking on it with lack-lustre eye, Says, very wisely, It is ten o'clock: This may we see, quoth he, how the world wags: 'Tis but an hour ago since it was nine; And after an hour more it will be eleven ; And so, from hour to hour, we ripe, and ripe, And then, from hour to hour, we rot, and rot, A 7 That fools should be so deep-contemplative; An hour by his dial.-O noble fool! A worthy fool! Motley's the only wear. 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 biscuit After a voyage, he hath strange places cramm'd In mangled forms. A TENDER PETITION. But whate'er you are, That in this desert inaccessible, Under the shade of melancholy boughs, 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 wiped a tear, THE SEVEN AGES. All the world's a stage, And all the men and women merely players; Sighing like furnace, with a woeful ballad Even in the cannon's mouth: And then, the justice; With eyes severe, and beard of formal cut, And so he plays his part: The sixth age shifts With spectacles on nose, and pouch on side; Is second childishness, and mere oblivion; INGRATITUDE. A SONG. Blow, blow, thou wintry wind, Thou art not so unkind As man's ingratitude; Thy tooth is not so keen, Because thou art not seen, Although thy breath be rude. Heigh, ho! sing, heigh, ho! unto the green holly: Most friendship is feigning, most loving mere folly; Then, heigh, ho, the holly! This life is most jolly. Freeze, freeze, thou bitter sky, That dost not bite so nigh As benefits forgot : * Violent. † Trite, common. Unnatural, |