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Mr. Frampton. Recollection is feldom of use to our friends, though it may sometimes be ferviceable to ourselves. .

Fram. Take advantage of your own expression, my lord, and recollect yourself. Born and educated as I have been, å gentleman, how have you injured both you self and me, by admitting and uniting in the fame confidence, your rafcally servant !

Lo. Eust. The exigency of my situation is a fufficient excuse to myself, and ought to have been so to the man who called himself my friend.

Fram. Have a care, my lord, of uttering the least doubt upon that subject ; for could I think you once mean enough to suspect the sincerity of my attachment to you, it must vanilh at that instant.

Lo. Eust. The proofs of your regard have been ratker painful of late, Mr. Frampton.. FRAM.. When I fee

upon the


of cipice, is that a time for compliment ? Shall I not rudely. rulh forward, and drag him from it? Just in that state you are at present, and I will strive to save you. Virtue may languish in a noble heart, and fuffer her rival, vice, to ufurp her power ;- but bafeness-muft not enter, or she flies for ever. The man who has forfeited his own esteem, thinks all the world has the same consciousness, and therefore is what he deserves to be, a wretch.

LD.- Eust. Oh,,Frampton ! you have lodged a dagger in

my friend

a pre

my heart.

FRUM. No, - my dear Enftace, I have saved you

from one, from your own reproaches, by preventing your being guilty of a meanness, which you could never have forgiven yourself. LD. EUst, Can you forgive me, and be still my

friend? FRAM

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Fram. As firmly as I have ever been, my

lord. -But le: us, at present, haften to get rid of the mean business we are engaged in, and forward the letters we have no right to actain.


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Pow, my co-mates and brothers in exile,

Hath not old custom made this life more sweet
Than that of painted pomp? Are not these woods
More free from peril, than the envious court?
Here feel we but the penalty of Adam,
The feafon's difference; as the icy phang,
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 every thing.

-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 gor'd.
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 banished 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 crawls along this wood ::
To the which place a poor fequestered ftag,
That from the hunter's aim had ta’en a hurt,
Did come to languilh ; and, indeed, my Lord,
The wretched animal heav'd forth such groans
That their discharge did tretch his leathern coat
Almost to bursting ; and the big round tears
Cours'd one another down his innocent inofe
In piteous chase; and thus the hairy fool
Much marked of the melancholy Jaques,
Stood on th' extremest verge of the swift brook,
Augmenting it with tears.

Duke. But what said Jaques ?
Did he not moralize this spectacle ?

Lord. O yes, into a thousand fimilies,
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, thus misery doth part
The flux of company. Anon a careless herd,
Fall 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?
Thus most invectively he pierceth through
The body of the country, city, court,
Yea, and of this our life ; swearing, 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 contemplations?

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 straight.


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That your poor


THY, how now, Monsieur, what a life ii


friends must woo your company? What? you look merrily.

JAQ. A fool, a fool ;-I met a fool i th’ forest,
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 sun,
And rail'd on Lady Fortune in good terms,
In good set terms, and yet a motley fool.
Good morrow, fool, quoth I; No, Sir, quoth he,
Cəll me not fool, till Heaven hath sent me fortune;
And then he drew a dial from his poak,


And looking on it with lack-lustre eye,
Says very wisely, It is ten o'clock;
Thus may we fee, quoth he, how the world wags :
'Tis but an hour


fince it was nine,
And after one hour more 'twill 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,
That fools fhould be so deep contemplative :
And I did laugh, fans intermission,
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 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-bisket After a voyage, he hath ftrange places cramn'a With obfervations, the which he vents, In mangled forms. O that I were a fool ! I am ambitious for a motley coat.

Duke. Thou shalt have one.

JHQ. It is my only suit ; 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 please ; for so fools have, And they that are moft galled with my folly They most must laugh. And why, Sir, muft they so?

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