ACT II.

HONOUR DUE TO PERSONAL VIRTUE only, not TO BIRTH.

From lowest place when virtuous things proceed, The place is dignified by the doer's deed: Where great additions* swell, and virtue none, It is a dropsied honour: good alone Is good, without a name; vileness is so:† The property by what it is should go, Not by the title. She is young, wise, fair; In these to nature she's immediate heir; And these breed honour: that is honour's scorn, Which challenges itself as honour's born, And is not like the sire: Honours best thrive, When rather from our acts we them derive Than our foregoer: the mere word's a slave, Debauch'd on every tomb; on every grave, A lying trophy, and as oft is dumb, Where dust and damn'd oblivion, is the tomb Of honour'd bones indeed.

ACT III.

SELF-ACCUSATION OF TOO GREAT LOVE.
Poor Lord! is't I

That chase thee from thy country, and expose
Those tender limbs of thine to the event
Of the non-sparing war? and is it I

That drive thee from the sportive court, where thou
Wast shot at with fair eyes, to be the mark
Of smoky muskets? O you leaden messengers,
That ride upon the violent speed of fire,
Fly with false aim; move the still-piercing air,
That sings with piercing, do not touch my lord!
Whoever shoots at him, I set him there;
Whoever charges on his forward breast,
I am the caitiff, that do hold him to it;

* Titles.

† Good is good independent of any worldly distinction, and so is vileness vile.

And, though I kill him not, I am the cause
His death was so effected: better 'twere
I met the ravin* lion when he roar'd

With sharp constraint of hunger; better 'twere
That all the m series, which nature owes,
Were mine at once: No, come thou home, Rousillon,
Whence honour but of danger wins a scar,
As oft it loses all; I will be gone:
My being here it is that holds thee hence:
Shall I stay here to do't? no, no, although
The air of paradise did fan the house,
And angels offic'd all: I will be gone;
That pitiful rumour may report my flight,
To consolate thine ear.

A MAID'S HONOUR.

The honour of a maid is her name; ana no legacy is so rich as honesty.

ADVICE TO YOUNG WOMEN.

Beware of them, Diana; their promises, enticements, oaths, tokens, and all these engines of lust, are not the things they go under:† many a maid hath been seduced by them; and the misery is, example, that so terrible shows in the wreck of maidenhood, cannot for all that dissuade succession, but that they are limed with the twigs that threaten them. I hope, I need not advise you farther; but, I hope, your own grace will keep you where you are, though there were no farther danger known, than the modesty which is so lost.

ACT IV.

CUSTOM OF SEDUCERS.

Ay, so you serve us,

Till we serve you: but when you have our roses
You barely leave our thorns to prick ourselves,
And mock us with our bareness.

* Ravenous.

†They are not the things for which their names would make them pass.

CHASTITY

Mine honour's such a ring:
My chastity's the jewel of our house,
Bequeath'd down from many ancestors;
Which were the greatest obloquy i'the world,
In me to lose.

ACT V.

AGAINST DELAY.

Let's take the instant by the forward top; For we are old, and on our quick'st decrees The inaudible and noiseless foot of time Steals ere we can effect them.

EXCUSE FOR UNSEASONABLE DISLIKE.

LIFE CHEQUERED.

The web of our life is of a mingled yarn, good and ill together: our virtues would be proud, if our faults whipped them not; and our crimes would despair, if they were not cherished by our virtues

A COWARDLY BRAGGART.

Yet am I thankful: if my heart were great, Twould burst at this: Captain, I'll be no more; But I will eat and drink, and sleep as soft As captain shall: simply the thing I am Shall make me live. Who knows himself a braggart, Let him fear this; for it will come to pass, That every braggart shall be found an ass. Rust, sword! cool, blushes! and, Parolles live, Safest in shame! being fool'd, by foolery thrive! There's place, and means, for every man alive.

At first

I stuck my choice upon her, ere my heart
Durst make too bold a herald of my tongue:
Where the impression of mine eye infixing,
Contempt his scornful perspective did lend me,
Which warp'd the line of every other favour;
Scorn'd a fair colour, or express'd it stol'n;
Extended or contracted all proportions,

To a most hideous object: Thence it came,
That she, whom all men prais'd, and whom myself,
Since I have lost, have lov'd, was in mine eye
The dust that did offend it.

AS YOU LIKE IT.

ACT I.

MODESTY AND COURAGE IN YOUTH

I BESEECH you, punish me not with your hard thoughts; wherein I confess me much guilty, to deny so fair and excellent ladies any thing. But let your fair eyes and gentle wishes, go with me to my trial: wherein if I be foiled, there is but one shamed that was never gracious; if killed, but one dead that is willing to be so: I shall do my friends no wrong, for I have none to lament me; the world no injury, for in it I have nothing; only in the world I fill up a place, which may be better supplied when I have made it empty.

PLAY-FELLOWS.

We still have slept together,

Rose at an instant, learn'd, play'd, eat together;
And wheresoe'er we went, like Juno's swans,
Still we went coupled, and inseparable.

BEAUTY.

Beauty provoketh thieves sooner than gold.

ROSALIND PROPOSING TO WEAR MEN'S CLOTHES.
Were it not better,

Because that I am more than common tall,
That I did suit me all points like a man?
A gallant curtle-ax* upon my thigh,
A boar-spear in my hand; and (in my heart
Lie there what hidden woman's fear there will,)
We'll have a swashing† and a martial outside:
+ Swaggering.

* Cutlass.

As many other manish cowards have,
That do outface it with their semblances.

ACT II.

SOLITUDE PREFERRED TO A COURT LIFE, AND THE ADVANTAGES OF ADVERSITY.

Now, my co-mates, and brothers in exile, Hath not old custom made this life more sweet Than that of painted pomp? are not these woods More free from peril than the envious court? Here feel we but the penalty of Adam, The seasons' difference; as the icy fang, And churlish chiding of the winter's wind; Which, when it bites and blows upon my body, Even till I shrink with cold, I smile, and say, This is no flattery: these are counsellors That feelingly persuade me what I am. Sweet are the uses of adversity; Which, like the toad, ugly and venemous, 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 every thing.

REFLECTIONS ON THE WOUNDED STAG.

Duke S. Come, shall we go and kill us venison? And yet it irks me, the poor dappled fools,— Being native burghers of this desert city,Should, in their own confines, with forked heads,* Have their round haunches gor'd.

1 Lord. Indeed, my lord,

The melancholy Jaques grieves at that;
And, in that kind, swears you do more usurp
Than doth your brother that hath banish'd 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 sequester'd stag,
That from the hunter's aim had ta'en a hurt,
Did come to languish: and, indeed, my lord,
Barbed arrows