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Besides, his cote, his flocks and bounds of feed
Are now on sale, and at our sheepcote now,
By reason of his absence, there is nothing
That you will feed on; but what is, come see,
And in my voice most welcome shall you be.

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Ros. What is he that shall buy his flock and pasture? Cor. That young swain that you saw here but erewhile, That little cares for buying any thing.

Ros. I pray thee, if it stand with honesty,

Buy thou the cottage, pasture and the flock,
And thou shalt have to pay for it of us.

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Cel. And we will mend thy wages. I like this place, And willingly could waste my time in it.

Cor. Assuredly the thing is to be sold:
Go with me: if you like upon report
The soil, the profit and this kind of life,
I will your very faithful feeder be

And buy it with your gold right suddenly.

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[Exeunt.

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Unto the sweet bird's throat,

Come hither, come hither, come hither:

Here shall he see

No enemy

But winter and rough weather.

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Jaq. More, more, I prithee, more.

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Ami. It will make you melancholy, Monsieur Jaques. Jaq. I thank it. More, I prithee, more. I can suck melancholy out of a song, as a weasel sucks eggs. More,

I prithee, more.

Ami. My voice is ragged: I know I cannot please you. Jaq. I do not desire you to please me; I do desire you to sing. Come, more; another stanzo: call you 'em stanzos?

Ami. What you will, Monsieur Jaques.

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Jaq. Nay, I care not for their names; they owe me nothing. Will you sing?

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Ami. More at your request than to please myself. Jaq. Well then, if ever I thank any man, I'll thank you; but that they call compliment is like the encounter of two dog-apes, and when a man thanks me heartily, methinks I have given him a penny and he renders me the beggarly thanks. Come, sing; and you that will not, hold your tongues.

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Ami. Well, I'll end the song. Sirs, cover the while; the duke will drink under this tree. He hath been all this day to look you.

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Jaq. And I have been all this day to avoid him. He is too disputable for my company: I think of as many matters as he, but I give heaven thanks and make no boast of them. Come, warble, come.

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g.

Who doth ambition shun [All together here.
And loves to live i' the sun,

Seeking the food he eats

And pleased with what he gets,

Come hither, come hither, come hither:

Here shall he see

No enemy

But winter and rough weather.

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Jaq. I'll give you a verse to this note that I made yesterday in despite of my invention.

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Jaq. 'Tis a Greek invocation, to call fools into a circle. I'll go sleep, if I can; if I cannot, I'll rail against all the first-born of Egypt.

Ami. And I'll go seek the duke: his banquet is prepared. [Exeunt severally.

Scene VI. The forest.

Enter Orlando and Adam.

Adam. Dear master, I can go no further: O, I die for food! Here lie I down, and measure out my grave. Farewell, kind master.

Orl. Why, how now, Adam! no greater heart in thee? Live a little; comfort a little; cheer thyself a little. If this uncouth forest yield any thing savage, I will either be food for it or bring it for food to thee. Thy conceit is nearer death than thy powers. For my sake be comfortable; hold death awhile at the arm's end: I will here be with thee presently; and if I bring thee not something to eat, I will give thee leave to die: but if thou diest before come, thou art a mocker of my labor. Well said! thou lookest cheerly, and I'll be with thee quickly. Yet thou liest in the bleak air: come, I will bear thee to some shelter ; and thou shalt not die for lack of a dinner, if there live any thing in this desert. Cheerly, good Adam! [Exeunt.

I

SCENE VII. The forest.

A table set out. Enter Duke senior, Amiens, and Lords like outlaws.

Duke S. I think he be transformed into a beast;

For I can no where find him like a man.

First Lord. My lord, he is but even now gone hence:

Here was he merry, hearing of a song.

Duke S. If he, compact of jars, grow musical,
We shall have shortly discord in the spheres.
Go, seek him: tell him I would speak with him.

Enter Jaques.

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First Lord. He saves my labor by his own approach. Duke S. Why, how now, monsieur! what a life is this, That your poor friends must woo your company?

What, you look merrily!

ΤΟ

Jaq. A fool, a fool! I met a fool i' the forest, A motley fool; a miserable world!

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

Who laid him down and basked him in the sun,
And railed on Lady Fortune in good terms,

In good set terms, and yet a motley fool.

"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:

Thus we may see," quoth he, "how the world wags: 'Tis but an hour ago since 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 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,

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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 crammed
With observation the which he vents

In mangled forms. O that I were a fool!

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