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16 Cards in this Set

  • Front
  • Back

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,

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 venomous,

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 everything.

And yet it irks me the poor dappled fools,

Being native burghers of this desert city

And in that kind swears you do more usurp

Than doth your brother that hath banished you.

as he lay along

Under an oak, whose antique root peeps out

Upon the brook that brawls along this wood

Thou make'st a testament

as wordings do,

giving thy sum of more to

that which hath too much.

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 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 assigned and native dwelling-place.

bring his brother to me- I'll make him find him.

Do this suddenly, and let not search and

inquisition quail to bring again these foolish


Wherefore are you gentle, strong, and valiant? (Adam, to Orlando)

Know you not, master, to some kind of men

their graces serve them but as enemies?

No more do yours: your virtues, gentle master,

are sanctified and holy traitors to you.

O what a world is this when what is comely

Envenoms him that bears it!

this night [Oliver] means to burn the lodging where you use to lie

and you within it.

This is no place, this house is but a butchery:

Abhor it, fear it, do not enter it.

Or with a base and boisterous sword enforce

a thievish living on the common road?

I rather will subject me to the malice of a

diverted blood and bloody brother.

We'll go along together

And, ere we have thy youthful wages spent,

We'll light upon some settled low content.

Fortune cannot recompense me better

Than to die well and not my master's debtor.

Aye, now am I in Arden, the more fool I! When I

was at home I was in a better place

but travellers must be content.

If thou rememberest not the slightest folly

That ever love did make thee run into,

Thou hast not loved/

We that are true lovers run into strange capers

but as all is mortal in Nature,

so is all nature in love mortal in folly.

I prithee, shepherd, if that love or gold

can in this desert place buy entertainment,

Bring us where we may rest ourselves and feed.

No enemy

But winter and rough weather.

If this uncouth forest yield anything savage

I will either be food for it, or bring it for

food to thee.

Why how now, monsieur, what a life is this that your poor friends must woo your company?

And then he drew a dial from his poke

And looking on it, with lack-lustre eye

Tis but an hour ago since it was nine,

And after one hour more 'twill be eleven;

And so, from hour to hour, we ripe and ripe,

And then, from hour to hour,we rot and rot

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