« 이전계속 »
Sweet are the uses of adversity,
brooks, Sermons in stones, and good in every thing. -Come, shall we go, and kill us venison? And yet it irks me, the poor dappled fouls, Being native burgers of this desert city, Should, in their own confines, with forked heads, Have their round haunches gor'd.
Lord. Indeed, my lord, The melancholy Jaques grieves much at that; And in that kind swears you do more usurp Than doth your brother that hath banished you. To-day my lord of Amiens, and myself, Did steal behind him as he lay along Under an oak, whose antique root peeps out Upon the brook that brawls along this wood; To the which place a poor sequestered stag, That from the hunter's aim had ta'en a hurt, Did come to languish ! and, indeed, my lord, The wretched animal heav'd forth such groans That their discharge did stretch his leathern coat Almost to bursting; and the big round tears Cours'd one another doporr his innocent nose In piteous chase; and thus the hairy fool, Much mark'd of the melancholy Jaques, Stood on th' extremest verge of the swift brook, Augmenting it with tears.
Duke. But what said Jaques ? Did he not moralize this spectacle?
Lord. O yes, into a thousand similies; First, for his weeping in the needless strean ; 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 alone , Left and abandon'd 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,
plation ? Lord. We did, my lord, weeping and comment
Duke. Show me the place;
Lord. I'll bring you to him straight..
Duke. W ny, how now, Monsieur , what a.
life is this, That your poor friends must woo your company? What? you look merrily.
Jaq. A fool, a fool; — I met a fool i' th' forest, A motley fool; a miserable varlet!. As I do live by food , I met a fool, Who laid him down, and bask'd him in the sun,. And rail'd on lady Fortune in good terms, In good set terms, and yet a motley fool. Good morrow, fool, quoth I; No, Sir, quoth he, Call me not fool, till Heaven hath 'sent me fortune And then he drew a dial from his poak, And looking on it with lack lustre eye Says very wisely, It is ten o'clocki,
Thus may we see , quoth he, how the world wags:
Dake. Thou shalt have one.
Jaq. It is my only suit; Provided that you weed your better judgments Of all opinion, that grows rank in them, That I am wise. I must have liberty Withal, as large a charter as the wind, To blow on whom I please ; for so fools have, And they that are most galled with my folly. They, most must laugh. And why, Sir, must they
so? The why is plain, as way to parish-church; He whom a fool does very wisely hit, Doth very foolishly ,, although he smart, Not to seem senseless of the bob. If not, The wise man's folly is anatomiz'd Even by the squandering glances of a fool. Invest me in my motley, give me leave To speak my mind, and I will through and through Cleanse the foul body of th' infected world,
If they will patiently receive my, medicine.
Duke. Most mischievous foul sin , in chiding sin; For thou thyself hast been a libertine , And all th’embossed sores and headed evilsz Tbat thou with licence of free foot hast caught, Wouldst thou disgorge into the general world.
Jaq. Whiy, who cries out on pride, That can therein tax any private party? Dot it not flow as hugely as the sea, Till that the very means do ebb! What woman in the city do I name, When that I say, the city-woman bears The cost of princes on unworthy shoulders? Who can come in, and say, that I mean her; When such a one as she, such is her neighbour? Or what is he of basest function, That says bis bravery is not on my cost; Thinking, that I mean him, but therein suits His folly to the metal of my speech? There then ; how then? what then ? let me see:
C H A P. x I:
Ch. Just. I am assurd, if I be measur'd rightly
Ch. Just. I then did use the person of your fa
ther; The image of his power lay then in me; And in th' administration of his law, While I was busy for the commonwealth Your highness pleased to forget my place, The majesty and pow'r of law and justice, The image of the king whom I presented; And struck me in my very seat of judgment; Whereon, as an offender to your father, I gave bold way to my authority; And did commit you. If the deed were ill, Be you contented , wearing now the garland, To have a son set your decrees at nought : To pluck down justice from your awful bench, . To trip the course of law, and blunt the sword That guards the peace and safety of your person: Nay more, to spurn at your most royal image , And mock your working in a second body. Question your royal thoughts,make the case your's; Be now the father, and propose a son: Hear your own dignity so much profan'd; See your most dreadful law so loosely slighted; Behold yourself so by a son disdained : And then imagine me taking your part, And in your pow'r so silencing your son. After this cold consid'rance, sentence me; And, as you are a king, speak in your state, What I have done that misbecame my place, My, person, or my liege's sovereignty. . P. Henry. You are right , Justice, and you
weigh this well : Therefore still bear the balance and the sword : And I do wish your honours may increase, Till you do live to see a son of mine Offend you, and obey you as I did : So shall I live to speak my father's words : Happy am I, that have a man so bold That dares do justice on my proper son, And no less happy, having such a son, That would deliver up his greatness so