AS YOU LIKE IT.

Well said that was laid on with a trowel.

My pride fell with my fortunes.

Cel. Not a word?

Act i. Sc. 2.

Act i. Sc. 2.

Ros. Not one to throw at a dog.

Act i. Sc. 3.

Act i. Sc. 3.

O how full of briars is this working-day world!

We'll have a swashing and a martial outside.

Sweet are the uses of adversity,

Act i. Sc. 3.

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.

Act ii. Sc. I.

The big round tears

Cours'd one another down his innocent nose

In piteous chase.

Act ii. Sc. I..

"Poor deer," quoth he, "thou mak'st a testament As worldlings do, giving thy sum of more

To that which had too much."

Act ii. Sc. I.

Sweep on, you fat and

greasy

citizens.

Act ii. Sc. I.

And He that doth the ravens feed,

Yea, providently caters for the sparrow,

Be comfort to my age!

Act ii. Sc. 3.

[As You Like It continued.

For in my youth I never did apply
Hot and rebellious liquors in my blood.

Act ii. Sc. 3.

Therefore my age is as a lusty winter,
Frosty, but kindly.

Act ii. Sc. 3.

O good old man! how well in thee appears
The constant service of the antique world,
When service sweat for duty, not for meed!
Thou art not for the fashion of these times,
Where none will sweat, but for promotion.

Act ii. Sc. 3.

And rail'd on Lady Fortune in good terms,
In good set terms.

Act ii. Sc. 7.

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."

Act ii. Sc. 7.

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.

Act ii. Sc. 7.

My lungs began to crow like chanticleer.

Act ii. Sc. 7.

Motley's the only wear.

Act ii. Sc. 7.

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.

Act ii. Sc. 7.

As You Like It continued.]

I must have liberty

Withal, as large a charter as the wind,
To blow on whom I please.

Act ii. Sc. 7.

The why is plain as way to parish church.

Act ii. Sc. 7.

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.
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 woful ballad
Made to his mistress' eyebrow. 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 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
Into the lean and slipper'd Pantaloon,
With spectacle on nose and pouch on side;
His youthful hose well sav'd, a world too wide
For his shrunk shank; and his big manly voice,
Turning again toward childish treble, pipes

[As You Like It continued.

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- every

thing.

Blow, blow, thou winter wind,
Thou art not so unkind

As man's ingratitude.

Act ii. Sc. 7.

Act ii. Sc. 7.

The fair, the chaste, and unexpressive she.

Act iii. Sc. 2.

Hast any philosophy in thee, shepherd?

Act iii. Sc. 2.

O wonderful, wonderful, and most wonderful wonderful and yet again wonderful, and after that out of all whooping.

Act iii. Sc. 2.

Every one fault seeming monstrous, till his fellow-fault came to match it.

Act iii. Sc. 2.

Neither rhyme nor reason can express how much.1

Act iii. Sc. 2.

Truly, I would the gods had made thee poetAct iii. Sc. 3.

ical.

Down on your knees,

And thank Heaven, fasting, for a good man's

love.

Act iii. Sc. 5.

It is a melancholy of mine own, compounded of many simples, extracted from many objects, and, indeed, the sundry contemplation of my

1 See Proverbs, p. 609.

As You Like It continued.]

travels, in which my often rumination wraps me in a most humorous sadness.

Act iv. Sc. I.

I had rather have a fool to make me merry, than experience to make me sad.

Act iv. Sc. I.

Very good orators, when they are out, they will spit.

Act iv. Sc. I.

Men have died from time to time, and worms have eaten them, but not for love. Act iv. Sc. 1.

Men are April when they woo, December when they wed. Act iv. Sc. I.

Pacing through the forest, Chewing the food' of sweet and bitter fancy. Act iv. Sc. 3.

No sooner met, but they looked; no sooner looked, but they loved; no sooner loved, but they sighed; no sooner sighed, but they asked one another the reason.

Act v. Sc. 2.

How bitter a thing it is to look into happiness. through another man's eyes!

Act v. Sc. 2.

An ill-favoured thing, sir, but mine own.