Page 1918 - Shakespeare - Vol. 2
P. 1918
ACT II IT
Scene I IT
Enter Duke Senior, Amiens, and two or three lords like foresters.
DUKE SENIOR
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 not the penalty of Adam, [5]
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 [10]
That feelingly persuade me what I am’.
Sweet are the uses of adversity,
Which like the toad, ugly and venomous,
Wears yet a precious jewel in his head;
And this our life, exempt from public haunt, [15]
Finds tongues in trees, books in the running brooks,
Sermons in stones, and good in everything.
AMIENS
I would not change it. Happy is your Grace,
That can translate the stubbornness of fortune
Into so quiet and so sweet a style. [20]
DUKE SENIOR
Come, shall we go and kill us venison?
And yet it irks me the poor dappled fools,
