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Hell go along o'er the wide world with me. Leave me alone to woo him. Lets away And get our jewels and our wealth together,
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He would travel all over the wide world for me. Leave it to me to persuade him. Let's go and gather our jewels and wealth together,
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Devise the fittest time and safest way To hide us from pursuit that will be made After my flight.
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and plan the best time and safest way to avoid the people that will chase after us when my absence is discovered.
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Now go we in content To liberty, and not to banishment.
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And now we go, happily, to liberty not to banishment.
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Now, my co-mates and brothers in exile, Hath not old custom made this life more sweet Than that of painted pomp?
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Now, my companions and brothers in exile, hasn't
our long experience shown this simple life to be sweeter than one of superficial luxury?
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Are not these woods More free from peril than the envious court?
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Aren't these woods less dangerous than the jealousies and treachery of
the court?
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Here feel we not the penalty of Adam, The seasons' difference, as the icy fang And churlish chiding of the winters wind,
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Out here we don't feel the penalty resulting from Adam's sin the
changing seasons.
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Which, when it bites and blows upon my body, Even till I shrink with cold, I smile and say, œThis is no flattery. These are counselors That feelingly persuade me what I am.
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When the icy fangs of the scolding winter wind bite
and blow upon my body even though I shiver with cold I smile and say to
myself: "The wind isn't flattering me. It is like a counselor who makes me
feel what I truly am."
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Sweet are the uses of adversity, Which, like the toad, ugly and venomous, Wears yet a precious jewel in his head.
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Adversity has sweet benefits, just like the ugly, venomous
toad who wears a precious jewel in his forehead .
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And this our life, exempt from public haunt, Finds tongues in trees, books in the running brooks, Sermons in stones, and good in everything.
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And in this new life, far away from society, we can hear the voices of the trees, read books in the running brooks, hear sermons in the stones, and find the good in everything.
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I would not change it. Happy is your Grace, That can translate the stubbornness of fortune Into so quiet and so sweet a style.
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I wouldn't exchange it for anything. Your Grace, you are lucky to be able to translate your misfortune into such a quiet, happy lifestyle.
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Come, shall we go and kill us venison? And yet it irks me the poor dappled fools,
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Come, should we go and kill some deer for dinner? Although it bothers me that these poor spotted innocents
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Being native burghers of this desert city, Should in their own confines with forkd heads Have their round haunches gored.
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who are the native inhabitants of this uninhabited city should be gored with arrowheads in their own home.
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Indeed, my lord, The melancholy Jaques grieves at that, And in that kind swears you do more usurp Than doth your brother that hath banished you.
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Indeed, my lord, the melancholy Jaques grieves at the same thing, and he swears that when you hunt deer you are in fact a worse usurper than your brother who banished you.
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Today 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,
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Today my Lord of Amiens and I snuck up behind Jaques as he lay under an oak tree, whose ancient roots peek out from the earth near the brook that babbles through this forest.
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To the which place a poor sequestered stag That from the hunters aim had ta'en a hurt Did come to languish.
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A poor, lonely stag who had been separated from his herd and hurt by a hunter's arrow came to rest in that same place.
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And indeed, my lord, The wretched animal heaved forth such groans That their discharge did stretch his leathern coat Almost to bursting,
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And indeed, my lord, the wretched animal groaned so heavily that he seemed to stretch his leather hide almost to bursting,
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and the big round tears Coursed one another down his innocent nose In piteous chase.
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and big, round tears ran pitifully down his innocent nose.
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And thus the hairy fool, Much markd of the melancholy Jaques, Stood on th' extremest verge of the swift brook, Augmenting it with tears.
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And so the hairy, pitiful creature watched carefully by the melancholy Jaques stood on the very edge of the swift brook and added his tears to its flow.
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But what said Jaques? Did he not moralize this spectacle?
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But what did Jaques say? Didn't he find some moral in this scene?
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Oh, yes, into a thousand similes. First, for his weeping into the needless stream:
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Oh yes, he translated it into a thousand similes. First he spoke about the deer weeping needlessly into the stream's water.
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œPoor deer, quoth he, œthou makst a testament As worldlings do, giving thy sum of more To that which had too much.
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"Poor deer," he said, "you make your will and testament just like humans do, and leave what you have to something that already has too much."
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Then, being there alone, Left and abandoned of his velvet friend, œ'Tis right, quoth he. œThus misery doth part The flux of company.
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Then, about the deer being alone, abandoned by his velvety friends, he said: "It is right that misery should separate itself from company."
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Anon a careless herd, Full of the pasture, jumps along by him And never stays to greet him.
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Soon after a carefree herd of deer their stomachs full of pasture grass jumped past without stopping to greet the wounded stag.
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œAy, quoth Jaques, œSweep on, you fat and greasy citizens. 'Tis just the fashion. Wherefore do you look Upon that poor and broken bankrupt there?
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"Yes," said Jaques, "hurry on, you fat and citizens, ready to be hunted. This is just the way life is. Why should you stop and look at that poor, broken, bankrupt creature there?"
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Thus most invectively he pierceth through The body of the country, city, court, Yea, and of this our life,
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In this way, with bitter criticism, he pierced the heart of the country, the city, the court, and even our lives here in the woods
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swearing that we Are mere usurpers, tyrants, and whats worse, To fright the animals and to kill them up In their assigned and native dwelling place.
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swearing that we are only usurpers and tyrants, frightening and killing the animals in their own rightful dwelling places.
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And did you leave him in this contemplation?
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And did you leave him in this state of contemplation?
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We did, my lord, weeping and commenting Upon the sobbing deer.
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We did, my lord, as he wept and commented on the sobbing deer.
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Show me the place. I love to cope him in these sullen fits, For then hes full of matter.
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Show me the place where this happened. I love to talk with him when he's in these melancholy moods, for then he's full of things to say.
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Ill bring you to him straight.
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I'll bring you to him right away.
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Can it be possible that no man saw them? It cannot be. Some villains of my court Are of consent and sufferance in this.
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Can it be possible that no man saw them leave? It cannot be. Some villains in my court must be complicit in this.
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I cannot hear of any that did see her. The ladies, her attendants of her chamber Saw her abed,
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I cannot find anyone that saw her leave. The ladies who attend her in her rooms helped her into bed last night,
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and in the morning early They found the bed untreasured of their mistress.
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but in the early morning they found the bed empty of their mistress.
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My lord, the roinish clown, at whom so oft Your Grace was wont to laugh, is also missing.
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My lord, the base clown whom your Grace used to laugh at so often is also missing.
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Hisperia, the Princess' gentlewoman, Confesses that she secretly o'erheard Your daughter and her cousin much commend The parts and graces of the wrestler That did but lately foil the sinewy Charles,
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And Hisperia, the Princess's servant, confesses that she secretly overhead your daughter and her cousin praising the good looks and manners of the wrestler who recently defeated the muscular Charles.
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And she believes wherever they are gone That youth is surely in their company.
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And she believes that wherever they have gone, that young man is surely with them.
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Send to his brother. Fetch that gallant hither. If he be absent, bring his brother to me. Ill make him find him.
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Send a message to his brother. Fetch that pretty-boy Orlando here. If he is absent, then bring his brother to me. I'll make Oliver find Orlando.
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Do this suddenly, And let not search and inquisition quail To bring again these foolish runaways.
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Do this immediately, and don't let your searching and questioning falter until you've brought home these foolish runaways.
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Whos there?
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Who's there?
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What, my young master, O my gentle master, O my sweet master, O you memory Of old Sir Rowland!
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My young master; oh, my gentle master; oh, my sweet master; oh, you living memory of old Sir Rowland!
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Why, what make you here? Why are you virtuous? Why do people love you? And wherefore are you gentle, strong, and valiant?
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Why, what are you doing here? Why are you virtuous? Why do people love you? And why are you noble, strong, and brave?
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Why would you be so fond to overcome The bonny prizer of the humorous duke? Your praise is come too swiftly home before you.
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Why would you be so foolish as to beat the moody duke's prized wrestler? Praise of your victory has reached home before you did.
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Know you not, master, to some kind of men Their graces serve them but as enemies? No more do yours.
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Don't you know, master, that to some men their good qualities serve them only as enemies? Yours are like this.
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Your virtues, gentle master, Are sanctified and holy traitors to you.
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Noble master, your virtues are both blessed and holy traitors to you.
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Oh, what a world is this when what is comely Envenoms him that bears it!
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Oh, what a world this is, when what is good in a man poisons him!
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Why, whats the matter?
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Why, what's the matter?
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O unhappy youth, Come not within these doors. Within this roof The enemy of all your graces lives.
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Oh, unlucky young man: don't walk through these doors. Under this roof lives a man who is the enemy of all your good qualities.
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Your brother no, no brother yet the son Yet not the son, I will not call him son Of him I was about to call his father Hath heard your praises,
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Your brother no, no brother of yours yet the son, but not the son, I will not call him son of the man I was about to call his father. He has heard of your success,
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and this night he means To burn the lodging where you use to lie, And you within it.
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and tonight he plans to burn down the hut where you usually sleep, with you inside it.
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If he fail of that, He will have other means to cut you off. I overheard him and his practices.
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And if he fails at that, he will find other ways to kill you. I overheard him and his plans.
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This is no place, this house is but a butchery. Abhor it, fear it, do not enter it.
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This is no place for you. This house in now a slaughterhouse. Hate it, fear it, do not enter it.
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Why, whither, Adam, wouldst thou have me go?
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Well, where would you suggest I go then, Adam?
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No matter whither, so you come not here.
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It doesn't matter where, as long as it isn't here.
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What, wouldst thou have me go and beg my food, Or with a base and boist'rous sword enforce A thievish living on the common road?
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What, would you have me go and beg for my food, or use a lowly, rough sword to lead a life of thievery on the common road?
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This I must do, or know not what to do. Yet this I will not do, do how I can.
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That's what I'll have to do, because I don't know what else I could do. And yet that is something I won't do, no matter what.
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I rather will subject me to the malice Of a diverted blood and bloody brother.
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I would rather give myself up to the hatred of an estranged, violent brother.
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But do not so. I have five hundred crowns, The thrifty hire I saved under your father,
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But don't do that. I have five hundred gold coins, which I carefully saved while working under your father.
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Which I did store to be my foster nurse When service should in my old limbs lie lame And unregarded age in corners thrown.
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I kept it so it would be a retirement fund for when my old body grew lame with service and lay forgotten in some corner.
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Take that, and He that doth the ravens feed, Yea, providently caters for the sparrow, Be comfort to my age. Here is the gold.
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Take this money, and God who feeds the ravens and provides for the sparrows will comfort me as well in my old age. Here is the gold.
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All this I give you. Let me be your servant. Though I look old, yet I am strong and lusty,
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All this I give to you. Let me be your servant. Though I look old, I'm still strong and healthy,
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For in my youth I never did apply Hot and rebellious liquors in my blood Nor did not with unbashful forehead woo The means of weakness and debility.
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since in my youth I never drank alcohol, or lived dangerously in a way that would court weakness and injury through foolishness.
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Therefore my age is as a lusty winter, Frosty but kindly. Let me go with you.
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Therefore my old age is like a strong, vigorous winter: frosty, but kindly. Let me go with you.
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Ill do the service of a younger man In all your business and necessities.
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I'll do everything a younger man could do for you regarding your business and needs.
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O good old man, how well in thee appears The constant service of the antique world, When service sweat for duty, not for meed.
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Oh, good old man, you are a prime example of the work ethic of the old days, when people worked for duty, not just for money.
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Thou art not for the fashion of these times, Where none will sweat but for promotion, And having that do choke their service up Even with the having. It is not so with thee.
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You are not made for these present times, where no one will work except for a promotion, and when they have that, they stop working.
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But, poor old man, thou prunst a rotten tree That cannot so much as a blossom yield In lieu of all thy pains and husbandry.
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But, poor old man, with me you are pruning a rotten tree that cannot yield even a single blossom, no matter how hard and well you work.
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But come thy ways. Well go along together, And ere we have thy youthful wages spent, Well light upon some settled low content.
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But come. We'll go along together, and we'll find some way to make a modest living before we've spent all the money you saved in your youth.
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Master, go on, and I will follow thee To the last gasp, with truth and loyalty.
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Master, go on, and I will follow you to the last gasp, with truth and loyalty.
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From seventeen years till now almost fourscore Here livd I, but now live here no more.
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I have lived in this house from age seventeen to now, almost eighty, but now I will live here no more.
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At seventeen years, many their fortunes seek, But at fourscore, it is too late a week. Yet fortune cannot recompense me better Than to die well, and not my masters debtor.
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Many seek their fortunes at age seventeen, but eighty is a bit late for that. Yet fortune cannot reward me better than to die well, without owing my master anything.
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I care not for my spirits, if my legs were not weary.
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I wouldn't care about my spirit, if my legs weren't so tired.
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I could find in my heart to disgrace my mans apparel and to cry like a woman, but I must comfort the weaker vessel,
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I could insult my manly clothes by crying like a woman . But instead I must comfort my weaker feminine side,
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as doublet and hose ought to show itself courageous to petticoat. Therefore courage, good Aliena.
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just as the man's jacket and breeches must act brave for the woman's petticoat. Therefore have courage, good Aliena.
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I pray you bear with me. I cannot go no further.
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Please bear with me. I can't go any further.
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Well, this is the Forest of Arden.
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Well, this is the Forest of Arden.
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Ay, now am I in Arden, the more fool I. When I was at home I was in a better place, but travelers must be content.
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Yes, now I am in Arden, which makes me even more of a fool. When I was at home, I was in a better place. But travelers must be content with what they can get.
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Ay, be so, good Touchstone.
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Yes, be content, good Touchstone.
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Look you who comes here, a young man and an old in solemn talk.
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Look who's coming this way a young man and an old man having a serious discussion.
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That is the way to make her scorn you still.
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That's only going to make her keep scorning you.
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O Corin, that thou knewst how I do love her!
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Oh, Corin, if you only knew how much I love her!
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I partly guess, for I have loved ere now.
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I can probably guess, as I have been in love before.
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No, Corin, being old, thou canst not guess, Though in thy youth thou wast as true a lover As ever sighed upon a midnight pillow.
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No, Corin, being old, you cannot guess even if in your youth you were as true a lover as ever sighed into your pillow all night long.
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But if thy love were ever like to mine As sure I think did never man love so How many actions most ridiculous Hast thou been drawn to by thy fantasy?
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But if your love was anything like mine and I'm sure that no man has ever loved as I do tell me how many ridiculous actions did your desires lead you to perform?
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Into a thousand that I have forgotten.
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A thousand, but I have forgotten them all.
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Oh, thou didst then ne'er love so heartily. If thou remembrest not the slightest folly That ever love did make thee run into, Thou hast not loved.
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Oh, then you never loved as fully as I do. If you cannot remember even the smallest foolish act that love drove you to, then you have not loved.
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Or if thou hast not sat as I do now, Wearying thy hearer in thy mistresss praise, Thou hast not loved.
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Or if you have not sat as I do now, wearying your listener with the praise of your beloved, then you have not loved.
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Or if thou hast not broke from company Abruptly, as my passion now makes me, Thou hast not loved. O Phoebe, Phoebe, Phoebe!
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Or if you have not broken away from all company, as my passion now leads me to do, then you have not loved. Oh Phoebe, Phoebe, Phoebe!
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Alas, poor shepherd, searching of thy wound, I have by hard adventure found mine own.
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Alas, poor shepherd, hearing you describe your injured heart has reminded me of my own lovelorn suffering.
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And I mine. I remember when I was in love I broke my sword upon a stone and bid him take that for coming a- night to Jane Smile.
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And mine as well. I remember when I was in love, I broke my sword upon a stone and told the sword to "take that" for coming at night to visit Jane Smile.
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And I remember the kissing of her batler, and the cows dugs that her pretty chapped hands had milked.
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And I remember kissing Jane's washing stick, and the cow's udders that her pretty chapped hands had milked.
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And I remember the wooing of a peascod instead of her, from whom I took two cods and, giving her them again, said with weeping tears, œWear these for my sake.
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And I remember wooing a peapod, and taking two peas from it and giving them to her, and tearfully asking her to " Wear these for my sake ."
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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.
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We who are true lovers do many strange things. But just as everything in nature is mortal, so all lovers show their humanity through their foolishness.
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Thou speakst wiser than thou art ware of.
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Your words are wiser than you are aware of.
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Nay, I shall ne'er be ware of mine own wit till I break my shins against it.
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No, I will never be aware of my own wit, until I break my shins against it.
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Jove, Jove, this shepherds passion Is much upon my fashion.
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Jove, Jove, this shepherd's passion is much like my own.
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And mine, but it grows something stale with me.
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And mine too, but I am getting somewhat tired of it.
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I pray you, one of you question yond man, if he for gold will give us any food. I faint almost to death.
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Please, one of you go ask that man if he will sell us any food for gold. I am fainting almost to death with hunger.
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Holla, you clown!
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Hey, you clown!
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Peace, fool. Hes not thy kinsman.
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Quiet, you fool. He's not a clown like you.
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Who calls?
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Who calls?
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