Act 2 - Scene 7
A table set out. Enter DUKE SENIOR, AMIENS, and Lords like outlaws
I think he be transform'd into a beast;
For I can no where find him like a man.
My lord, he is but even now gone hence:
Here was he merry, hearing of a song.
If he, compact of jars, grow musical,
We shall have shortly discord in the spheres.
Go, seek him: tell him I
would speak with him.
He saves my labour by his own approach.
Why, how now, monsieur! what a life is this,
That your poor friends must woo your company?
A fool, a fool! I met a fool i' the forest,
A motley fool; a miserable world!
As I do live by food, I met a fool
laid him down and bask'd him in the sun,
And rail'd on Lady Fortune in good terms,
In good set terms
and yet a motley fool.
'Good morrow, fool,' quoth I. 'No, sir,' quoth he,
'Call me not fool till heaven hath
sent me fortune:'
And then he drew a dial from his poke,
And, looking on it with lack-lustre eye,
wisely, 'It is ten o'clock:
Thus we may see,' quoth he, 'how the world wags:
'Tis but an hour ago since it
And after one hour more 'twill be eleven;
And so, from hour to hour, we ripe and ripe,
from hour to hour, we rot and rot;
And thereby hangs a tale.' When I did hear
The motley fool thus moral
on the time,
My lungs began to crow like chanticleer,
That fools should be so deep-contemplative,
did laugh sans intermission
An hour by his dial. O noble fool!
A worthy fool! Motley's the only wear.
What fool is this?
O worthy fool! One that hath been a courtier,
And says, if ladies be but young and fair,
They have the
gift to know it: and in his brain,
Which is as dry as the remainder biscuit
After a voyage, he hath strange
With observation, the which he vents
In mangled forms. O that I were a fool!
I am ambitious
for a motley coat.
Thou shalt have one.
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