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The seasons' difference; as the icy fang,
And churlish chiding of the winter's wind;
Which when it bites and blows upon my body,
Even till I shrink with cold, I smile, and say,
This is no flattery: these are counsellors
That feelingly persuade me what I am.
Sweet are the uses of adversity;

Which, like the toad, ugly and venomous,

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 stones, and good in everything.

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
Than doth your brother that hath banish'd you.
To-day, my lord of Amiens, and myself,

Did steal behind him, as he lay along

Under an oak, whose antique root peeps out
Upon the brook that brawls along this wood :
To the which place a poor sequester'd stag,
That from the hunters' aim had ta'en a hurt,
Did come to languish and, indeed, my lord,
The wretched animal heaved forth such groans,

* Barbed arrows,

That their discharge did stretch his leathern coat
Almost to bursting; and the big round tears
Coursed one another down his innocent nose
In piteous chase; and thus the hairy fool,
Much marked of the melancholy Jaques,

Stood on the extremest verge of the swift brook,
Augmenting it with tears.

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,
The thrifty hire I served under your father,
Which I did store to be my foster-nurse,
When service should in my old limbs lie lame,
And unregarded age in corners thrown;
Take that; and He that doth the ravens feed,
Yea, providently caters for the sparrow,
Be comfort to my age! Here is the gold;
All this I give you: Let me be your servant;
Though I look old, yet I am strong and lusty:
For in my youth I never did apply

Hot and rebellious liquors to my blood:
Nor did not with unbashful forehead woo
The means of weakness and debility;
Therefore my age is as a lusty winter,
Frosty but kindly let me go with you,
I'll do the service of a younger man
In all your business and necessities.

:

DESCRIPTION OF A FOOL, AND HIS MORALISING ON TIME.

Good-morrow, fool, quoth I: No, sir, quoth he,
Call me not fool, till Heaven hath sent me fortune :
And then he drew a dial from his poke;

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,
And thereby hangs a tale. When I did hear
The motley fool thus moral on the time,
My lungs began to crow like chanticleer,

A

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That fools should be so deep-contemplative;
And I did laugh, sans intermission,

An hour by his dial.-O noble fool!

A worthy fool! Motley's the only wear.
Duke S. 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 biscuit

After a voyage, he hath strange places cramm'd
With observation, the which he vents

In mangled forms.

A TENDER PETITION.

But whate'er you are,

That in this desert inaccessible,

Under the shade of melancholy boughs,
Lose 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 sat at any good man's feast;

If ever from your eye-lids wiped a tear,
And know what 'tis to pity, and be pitied;
Let gentleness my strong enforcement be.

THE SEVEN AGES.

All the world's a stage,

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 seven ages. At first, the infant,
Mewling and puking in the nurse's arms;
And then, the whining school-boy, with his satchel,
And shining morning face, creeping like snail
Unwillingly to school; and then, the lover;

Sighing like furnace, with a woeful ballad
Made to his mistress' eye-brow. Then, a soldier;
Full of strange oaths, and bearded like the pard,
Jealous in honour, sudden* and quick in quarrel,
Seeking the bubble reputation

Even in the cannon's mouth: And then, the justice;
In fair round belly, with good capon lined,

With eyes severe, and beard of formal cut,
Full of wise saws and modern+ instances,

And so he plays his part: The sixth age shifts
Into the lean and slipper'd pantaloon;

With spectacles on nose, and pouch on side;
His youthful hose well served, a world too wide
For his shrunk shank; and his big manly voice,
Turning again towards childish treble, pipes
And whistles in his sound: Last scene of all,
That ends this strange eventful history,

Is second childishness, and mere oblivion;
Sans teeth, sans eyes, sans taste, sans everything!

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,

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