WILL.
Once in my life I have an odd half-hour to spare,
To ease myself of all my travail and my care.
I stood not still so long this twenty days, I ween,
But ever more sent forth on messages I have been.
Such trudging and such toil, by the mass, was never seen;
My body is worn out, and spent with labour clean.
And this it is that makes me look so lean.
That lets my growth, and makes me seem a squall;[434]
What then, although my stature be not tall,
Yet I am as proper as you, so neat and cleanly,
And have my joints at commandment full of activity.
What should a servant do with all this flesh and bones,
That, makes them run with leaden heels, and stir themself like stones?
Give me a proper squire much after my pitch,
And mark how he from place to place will squich;[435]
Fair or foul, thick or thin, mire or dusty;
Cloud or rain, light or dark, clear or misty:
Ride or run, to or fro, bad or good:
A neat little fellow on his business will scud.
These great lubbers[436] are neither active nor wise,
That feed till they sleep, and sleep out their eyes.
So heavy, so dull, so untoward in their doing,
That it is a good sight to see them leave working.
But all this while, while I stand prating here,
I see not my master; I left him snorting here.
[_Exit_.