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And from her derogate body never spring
If she must teem,
All things superfluous. O, reason not the need : our basest beggars Are in the poorest thing superfluous : Allow not nature more than nature needs, Man’s life is cheap as beast's: thou art a lady ; If only to go warm were gorgeous, Why, nature needs not what thou gorgeous wear’st, Which scarcely keeps thee warm.-But, for true need, You Heavens, give me that patience, patience I need ! You see me here, you gods, a poor old man, As full of grief as age; wretched in both ! If it be you that stir these daughters' hearts Against their father, fool me not so much To bear it tamely; touch me with noble anger ! O, let not women's weapons, water-drops, Stain my man's cheeks !-No, you unnatural hags, I will have such revenges on you both, That all the world shall—I will do such things, – What they are, yet I know not; but they shall be The terrors of the carth. You think, I'll weep; No, I'll not weep ;
I have full cause of weeping; but this heart
LEAR in the Storm.
Blow, wind, and crack your cheeks ! rage! blow!
you have drenched our steeples, drowned the cocks !
I call you servile ministers,
Poor naked wretches, wheresoe'er you are,
Expose thyself to feel what wretches feel ;
Vices concealed by Greatness. Through tattered clothes small vices do appear; Robes, and furred gowns, hide all. Plate sin with gold, And the strong lance of justice hurtless breaks : Arm it in rags, a pigmy's straw doth pierce it.
The banished Duke and his Lords in the Forest of Arden.
Duke. Now, my co-mates and brothers in exile,
Amiens. I would not change it. Happy is your grace,
Duke. Come, shall we go and kill us venison ?
Lord. Indeed, my lord,
ROSALIND's Points of a Lover. A lean cheek; which you have not: a blue eye, and sunken; which you have not: an unquestionable spirit ; which
you have not: a beard neglected; which you have not:—but I pardon you for that; for, simply, your having no beard is a younger brother's revenue. — Then your
hose should be ungartered, your bonnet unbanded, your sleeve unbuttoned, your shoe untied, and every thing about you demonstrating a careless desolation. But you are no such man; you are rather point-device in your accoutrements ; as loving yourself, than seeming the lover of any other.
How ROSALIND cures Love.
Rosalind. Love is merely a madness; and, I tell you, deserves as well a dark house and a whip, as madmen do; and the reason why they are not so punished and cured, is, that the lunacy is so ordinary, that the whippers are in love
Yet I profess curing it by counsel. Orlando. Did you ever cure any so?
Ros. Yes, one; and in this manner. He was to imagine me his love, his mistress; and I set him every day to woo me: at which time would I, being but a moonish youth, grieve, be effeminate, changeable, longing, and liking; proud, fantastical, apish, shallow, inconstant, full of tears, full of smiles; for every passion something, and for no passion truly any thing, as boys and women are for the most part cattle of this colour: would now like him, now loathe him; then entertain him, then forswear him ; now weep for him, then spit at him; that I drave my suitor from his mad humour of love, to a living humour of madness; which was, to forswear the full stream of the world, and to live in a nook merely monastic. And thus I cured and this way will I take upon me to wash your
liver as clean as a sound sheep's heart, that there shall not be one spot of love in't.