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(Wo * cods, and giving her them again, faid with weeping cears, Wear these for my fake. We, that are true lovers, run into ftrange capers; but as all is mortal in nature, so is all nature in love mortal in folly.
Rof. Thou speak'st wiser, than thou art 'ware of.
Clo. Nay, I Thall ne'er be aware of mine own wit, 'till I break
Thins against it.
upon my fashion.
Clo. And mine; but it grows something stale with
Clo. Holla; you, Clown!
Rof. I pry’thee, shepherd, if that love or gold
Cor. Fair Sir, I pity her,
For cods it would be more a great quantity, is used as a par. like sense to read peas, which, hav. ticle of amplification ; as, more ing the shape of pearls, resembled tal tall, mortal little. Of this the common presents of lovers. sepse I believe Shakespeare takes
Sfo is all nature in love advantage to produce one of his mortal in folly.) This expression darling equivocations. Thus the I do not well understand. In the meaning will be, so is all nature middle counties, mortal, from mors in love, abounding in folly.
And do not share the fleeces that I graze;
ture? Cor. That young fwain, that ye saw here but ere
while, That little cares for buying any thing.
Rof. I pray thee, if it stand with honesty,
Cel. And we will mend thy wages.
Cor. Assuredly, the thing is to be sold;
to bid you
And in my voice right wel. far as I have power time fball ge be.] In my voice, as welcome. fa: as I have a voice or vote, as
Jaq. More, more, I pr’ythee, more.
Jaq. I thank it -- more, I pr’ythee, more – — I can suck melancholy out of a Song, as a weazel sucks eggs: inore, I pr’ythee, more.
Ami. My voice is rugged *; I know, I cannot please you.
Jaq: I do not desire you to please me, I do desire you to fing; come, come, another stanzo ; call you 'em stanzo's?
Ami. What you will, Monsieur Jaques.
Jaq. Nay, I care not for their names, they owe me nothing Will you sing?
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 Compliments, 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, fing; and you that will not, hold your tongues.
Ami. Well, I'll end the song. Sirs, cover the while; - the Duke will dine under this tree; he hath been all this day to look you.
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 heav'n thanks, and make no boaft of them. Come, warble, come.
* In old editions, ragged.
Jaq. I'll give thee a verse to this note, that I made yesterday in despight of my invention.
Ami. And I'li sing it.
If it do come to pass.
Here shall be fee
Gross fools as he
Ami. What's that's ducdame?
Jaq. 'Tis a Greek invocation, to call fools into a circle.--I'll go to sleep if I can; if I cannot, 'l'll rail against all the first-born of Egypt.
Ami. And I'll go seek the Duke: his banquet is prepar'd.
That is, bring him
• Old Edition, to live. duc ad me.
# For ducdame Sir T., Hanmer, to me. yery acutely and judiciously, reads,
SC E N E VI.
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, --Farewel, kind master.
Orla. 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 fake be comfortable, hold death a while at the arm's end : I will be here with thee presently, and if I bring thee not something to eat, I'll give thee leave to die ; but if thou dielt before I come, thou art a mocker of my labour.-Well said-thou'look't cheerly; and I'll be with you quickly. Yet thou Jiest in the bleak air; come, I will bear thee to some fhelter, and thou shalt not die for lack of a dinner, if there live any thing in this Desert. Cheerly, good Adam.
S CE N E VII.
Another part of the FOREST. Enter Duke Sen. and Lords. [A Table set out. Dake Sen. I think, he is transform'd into a beast, 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 musical,