Now, my co-mates and brothers in exile,

2.1.2608Hath not old custom made this life more sweet

2.1.3609Than that of painted pomp? Are not these woods

2.1.4610More free from peril than the envious court?

2.1.5611Here feel we not the penalty of Adam,

2.1.6612The seasons' difference, as the icy fang

2.1.7613And churlish chiding of the winter's wind,

2.1.8614Which when it bites and blows upon my body

2.1.9615Even till I shrink with cold, I smile and say

2.1.10616"This is no flattery; these are counselors

2.1.11617That feelingly persuade me what I am."

2.1.12618Sweet are the uses of adversity,

2.1.13619Which, like the toad, ugly and venomous,

2.1.14620Wears yet a precious jewel in his head;

2.1.15621And this our life, exempt from public haunt,

2.1.16622Finds tongues in trees, books in the running brooks,

2.1.17623Sermons in stones, and good in everything.

I would not change it. Happy is Your Grace,

2.1.19625That can translate the stubbornness of fortune

2.1.20626Into so quiet and so sweet a style.

Come, shall we go and kill us venison?

2.1.22628And yet it irks me the poor dappled fools,

2.1.23629Being native burghers of this desert city,

2.1.24630Should in their own confines with forkèd heads

2.1.25631Have their round haunches gored.

Have their round haunches gored. Indeed, my lord,

2.1.26633The melancholy Jaques grieves at that,

2.1.27634And in that kind swears you do more usurp

2.1.28635Than doth your brother that hath banished you.

2.1.29636Today my Lord of Amiens and myself

2.1.30637Did steal behind him as he lay along

2.1.31638Under an oak whose antique root peeps out

2.1.32639Upon the brook that brawls along this wood,

2.1.33640To the which place a poor sequestered stag

2.1.34641That from the hunter's aim had ta'en a hurt

2.1.35642Did come to languish. And indeed, my lord,

2.1.36643The wretched animal heaved forth such groans

2.1.37644That their discharge did stretch his leathern coat

2.1.38645Almost to bursting, and the big round tears

2.1.39646Coursed one another down his innocent nose

2.1.40647In piteous chase. And thus the hairy fool,

2.1.41648Much markèd of the melancholy Jaques,

2.1.42649Stood on th'extremest verge of the swift brook,

2.1.43650Augmenting it with tears.

Augmenting it with tears. But what said Jaques?

2.1.44652Did he not moralize this spectacle?

Oh, yes, into a thousand similes.

2.1.46654First, for his weeping into the needless stream:

2.1.47655"Poor deer," quoth he, "thou mak'st a testament

2.1.48656As worldlings do, giving thy sum of more

2.1.49657To that which had too much." Then, being there alone,

2.1.50658Left and abandoned of his velvet friends:

2.1.51659"'Tis right," quoth he, "thus misery doth part

2.1.52660The flux of company." Anon, a careless herd,

2.1.53661Full of the pasture, jumps along by him

2.1.54662And never stays to greet him. "Ay," quoth Jaques,

2.1.55663"Sweep on, you fat and greasy citizens;

2.1.56664'Tis just the fashion. Wherefore do you look

2.1.57665Upon that poor and broken bankrupt there?"

2.1.58666Thus most invectively he pierceth through

2.1.59667The body of the country, city, court,

2.1.60668Yea, and of this our life, swearing that we

2.1.61669Are mere usurpers, tyrants, and what's worse,

2.1.62670To fright the animals and to kill them up

2.1.63671In their assigned and native dwelling place.

And did you leave him in this contemplation?

We did, my lord, weeping and commenting

2.1.66674Upon the sobbing deer.

Upon the sobbing deer. Show me the place.

2.1.67676I love to cope him in these sullen fits,

2.1.68677For then he's full of matter.

I'll bring you to him straight.