JAQUES
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 that a fool doth very wisely hit Doth very foolishly, although
he smart, Not to seem senseless of the bob: if not, The wise man's folly is anatomized Even by the squandering
glances of the fool. Invest me in my motley; give me leave To speak my mind, and I will through and through Cleanse
the foul body of the infected world, If they will patiently receive my medicine. DUKE SENIOR
Fie on thee! I can tell what thou wouldst do. JAQUES
What, for a counter, would I do but good? DUKE SENIOR
Most mischievous foul sin, in chiding sin: For thou thyself hast been a libertine, As sensual as the brutish
sting itself; And all the embossed sores and headed evils, That thou with licence of free foot hast caught, Wouldst
thou disgorge into the general world. JAQUES
Why, who cries out on pride, That can therein tax any private party? Doth it not flow as hugely as the
sea, Till that the weary 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 his bravery is not of
my cost, Thinking that I mean him, but therein suits His folly to the mettle of my speech? There then; how
then? what then? Let me see wherein My tongue hath wrong'd him: if it do him right, Then he hath wrong'd
himself; if he be free, Why then my taxing like a wild-goose flies, Unclaim'd of any man. But who comes
here?
Enter ORLANDO, with his sword drawn ORLANDO
Forbear, and eat no more. JAQUES
Why, I have eat none yet. ORLANDO
Nor shalt not, till necessity be served. JAQUES
Of what kind should this cock come of? DUKE SENIOR
Art thou thus bolden'd, man, by thy distress, Or else a rude despiser of good manners, That in civility
thou seem'st so empty?
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By PanEris
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