Seeking the bubble Reputation Even in the cannon's mouth: And then the Justice, In fair round belly with good capon lin'd; 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 Is second childishness and mere oblivion; Sans teeth, sans eyes, sans taste, sans Enter OLANDO, with ADAM. every thing. Duke S. Welcome. Set down your venerable bur then, And let him feed. Orl. I thank you most for him. Adam. So had you need; I scarce can speak to thank you for myself. you 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! II. Freeze, freeze, thou bitter sky, Heigh ho! sing, heigh ho! &c. Duke S. If that you were the good Sir Rowland's son, As you have whisper'd faithfully you were, And as mine eye doth his effigies witness Good old man, That lov'd your father: The residue of your fortune, thy master is; Give me your hand, And let me all your fortunes understand. [Exeunt. ACT III, SCENE I. — A Room in the Palace. Enter DUKE FREDERICK, OLIVER, Lords, and Attendants. DUKE FREDERICK. OT see him since? Sir, sir, that cannot be: But were I not the better part made mercy, I should not seek an absent argument Of my revenge, thou present. But look to it; Thy lands and all things that thou dost call thine, Till thou canst quit thee by thy brother's mouth Of what we think against thee. Oli. O, that your Highness knew my heart in this! I never lov'd my brother in my life. Duke F. More villain thou. - Well, push him out of doors; And let my officers of such a nature Make an extent upon his house and lands; Do this expediently, and turn him going. [Exeunt SCENE II. The Forest. Enter ORLANDO, with a paper. Orl. Hang there, my verse, in witness of my love: And thou, thrice-crowned Queen of Night, survey With thy chaste eye, from thy pale sphere above, Thy huntress' name, that my full life doth sway, O Rosalind! these trees shall be my books, And in their barks my thoughts I'll character, Enter CORIN and TOUCHSTONE. [Exit. Cor. And how like you this shepherd's life, Master Touchstone?. Touch. Truly, Shepherd, in respect of itself, it is a good life; but in respect that it is a shepherd's life, it is naught. In respect that it is solitary, I like it very well; but in respect that it is private, it is a very vild life. Now, in respect it is in the fields, it pleaseth me well; but in respect it is not in the Court,' it is tedious. As it is a spare life, look you, it fits my humour well; but as there is no more plenty in it, it goes much against my stomach. Hast any philosophy in thee, Shepherd? Cor. No more, but that I know, the more one sickens, the worse at ease he is; and that he that wants money, means, and content, is without three good friends: That the property of rain is to wet, and fire to burn: That good pasture makes fat sheep, and that a great cause of the night is lack of the sun: That he that hath learned no wit by Nature nor Art, may complain of good breeding, or comes of a very dull kindred. Touch. Such a one is a natural philosopher. Wast ever in Court, Shepherd? Cor. No, truly. Touch. Then thou art damn'd. Cor. Nay, I hope, Touch. Truly thou art damn'd; like an ill-roasted egg, all on one side. Cor. For not being at Court? Your reason. Touch. Why, if thou never wast at Court, thou never saw'st good manners; if thou never saw'st good manners, then thy manners must be wicked; and wickedness is sin, and sin is damnation. Thou art in a parlous state, Shepherd! Cor. Not a whit, Touchstone: those that are good manners at the Court are as ridiculous in the country as the behaviour of the country is most mockable at the Court. You told me, you salute not at the Court, but you kiss your hands; that courtesy would be uncleanly if courtiers were shepherds. Touch. Instance, briefly; come, instance. Cor. Why, we are still handling our ewes; and their fells, you know, are greasy. Touch. Why, do not your courtier's hands sweat? and is not the grease of a mutton as wholesome as the sweat of a man? Shallow, shallow! A better instance, I say; come. Cor. Besides, our hands are hard. Touch. Your lips will feel them the sooner. Shallow again! A more sounder instance; come. Cor. And they are often tarr'd over with the sur |