ACT II.
1. SCENE I. The Forest of Arden.
(continued)
FIRST LORD.
O, yes, into a thousand similes.
First, for his weeping into the needless stream;
'Poor deer,' quoth he 'thou mak'st a testament
As worldlings do, giving thy sum of more
To that which had too much:' then, being there alone,
Left and abandoned of his velvet friends;
''Tis right'; quoth he; 'thus misery doth part
The flux of company:' anon, a careless herd,
Full of the pasture, jumps along by him
And never stays to greet him; 'Ay,' quoth Jaques,
'Sweep on, you fat and greasy citizens;
'Tis just the fashion; wherefore do you look
Upon that poor and broken bankrupt there?'
Thus most invectively he pierceth through
The body of the country, city, court,
Yea, and of this our life: swearing that we
Are mere usurpers, tyrants, and what's worse,
To fright the animals, and to kill them up
In their assign'd and native dwelling-place.
DUKE SENIOR.
And did you leave him in this contemplation?
SECOND LORD.
We did, my lord, weeping and commenting
Upon the sobbing deer.
DUKE SENIOR.
Show me the place:
I love to cope him in these sullen fits,
For then he's full of matter.
FIRST LORD.
I'll bring you to him straight.
[Exeunt.]
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