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properly) ftys me here at home, unkept; for call you that keeping for a gentleman of my birth, that differs not from the ftalling of an ox? his horses are bred better; for befides that they are fair with their feeding, they are taught their manage, and to that end riders dearly hired: but I, his brother, gain nothing under him but growth; for the which his animals on his dunghills are as much bound to him as I. Befides this Nothing that he so plentifully gives me, the Something, that Nature gave me, 3 his discountenance feems to take from me. He lets me feed with his hinds, bars me the place of a brother, and, as much as in him lies, mines my gentility with my education. This is it, Adam, that grieves me; and the Spirit of my father, which, I think, is within me, begins to mutiny against this fervitude. I will no longer endure it, tho' yet. I know no wife remedy how to avoid it,
S CEN E II.
Adam. Yonder comes my mafter, your brother. Orla. Go apart Adam, and thou fhalt hear how he will shake me up.
but a thousand crowns left him. They agree upon it; and Orlando opens the fcene in this manner, As I remember, it was upon this, i. e. for the reafon we have been talking of, that my father left me but a thou fand crowns; however, to make amends for this fcanty provifion, he charged my brother on his bleffing to breed me well.
2 STAYS me here at home, unkept;] We fhould read STYS, i. e. keeps me like a brute. The following words—for call you that keeping that differs not from the falling of an ox, confirm this emendation. So Caliban says,
And here you STY me in this hard rock.
3 bis COUNTENANCE feems to take from me.] We should certainly read his DISCOUNTENANCE.
Oli. Now, Sir, what make you here?
Orla. Nothing: I am not taught to make any
3: Oli. What mar you then, Sir?
Orla. Marry, Sir, I am helping you to mar That which God made; a poor unworthy brother of yours, with idleness.
Oli. Marry, Sir, be bettter employ'd, and be nought a while.
Orla. Shall I keep your hogs, and eat husks with them? what Prodigal's portion have I spent, that I fhould come to fuch penury?
Oli. Know you where you are, Sir!
Orla. Ay, better than he, I am before, knows me. I know, you are my eldest brother; and in the gentle condition of blood, you fhould fo know me; the courtefie of nations allows you my better, in that you
4 be better employ'd, and be nought a while.] Mr. Theobald has here a very critical note; which, though his modesty fuffered him to withdraw from his fecond edition, deserves to be perpetuated, i. e. (fays he) be better employed, in my opinion, in being and doing nothing. Your idleness as you call it may be an exercife, by which you may make a figure, and endear your felf to the world: and I had rather you were a contemptible Cypher. The poet feems to me to have that trite proverbial fentiment in his eye quoted, from Attilius, by the younger Pliny and others; fatis eft otiofum effe quam nihil agere. But Oliver in the perverfeness of bis difpofition would reverse the doctrine of the proverb. Does the Reader know what all this means? But 'tis no matter. I will affure him-be nought a while is only a north-country proverbial curfe equivalent to, a mischief on you. So the old Poet Skelton,
Correct first thy felfe, walke and BE NOUGHT,
But what the Oxford Editor could not explain, he would amend, and reads,
-and do aught a while.
are the first-born; but the fame tradition takes not away my blood, were there twenty brothers betwixt us. I have as much of my father in me, as you; 5 albeit, I confess your coming before me is nearer to his revenue.
Oli. What, boy!
Orla. Come, come, elder brother, you are too young in this.
Oli. Wilt thou lay hands on me, villain?
Orla. I am no villain: I am the youngest son of Sir Rowland de Boys; he was my father, and he is thrice a villain, that fays, fuch a father begot villains. Wert thou not my brother, I would not take this hand from thy throat, 'till this other had pull'd out thy tongue for faying fo; thou haft rail'd on thyself.
Adam. Sweet mafters, be patient; for your father's remembrance, be at accord.
Oli. Let me go, I say.
Orla. I will not, 'till I please: you fhall hear me. My father charg'd you in his Will to give me good education: you have train'd me up like a peafant, obfcuring and hiding from me all gentleman-like qualities; the Spirit of my father grows ftrong in me, and I will no longer endure it: therefore allow me fuch exercises as may become a gentleman, or give me the poor allottery my father left me by teftament; with that I will go buy my fortunes,
5 albeit, I confess your coming before me is nearer to his REVERENCE.] This is fenfe indeed, and may be thus understood, The reverence due to my father is, in fome degree, derived to you, as the firft-born-But I am perfuaded that Orlando did not here mean to compliment his brother, or condemn himself; fomething of both which there is in that fenfe. I rather think he intended a fatirical reflection on his brother, who by letting bim feed with his hinds treated him as one not so nearly related to old Sir Robert as himself was. I imagine therefore Shakespear might write, -albeit your coming before me is nearer to his REVENUE, ie, though you are no nearer in blood, yet it must be owned, indeed, you are nearer in estate.
Oli. And what wilt thou do? beg, when that is fpent? well, Sir, get you in. I will not long be troubled with you: you shall have fome part of your will. I pray you, leave me.
Orla. I will no further offend you, than becomes me for my good.
Oli. Get you with him, you old dog.
Adam. Is old dog my reward? moft true, I have loft my teeth in your service. God be with my old mafter, he would not have spoke fuch a word. [Exeunt Orlando and Adam,
Oli. Is it even fo? begin you to grow upon me? I will phyfick your rankness, and yet give no thou fand crowns neither. Holla, Dennis!
Den. Calls your Worship?
Oli. Was not Charles, the Duke's wreftler, here to speak with me?
Den. So please you, he is here at the door, and importunes access to you.
Oli. Call him in ;-'twill be a good way; and to morrow the wrestling is.
Cha. Good morrow to your Worship.
Oli. Good Monfieur Charles, what's the new news at the new Court?
Cha. There's no news at the Court, Sir, but the old news; that is, the old Duke is banifh'd by his younger brother the new Duke, and three or four loving lords have put themselves into voluntary exile with him; whofe lands and revenues enrich the new Duke, therefore he gives them good leave to wander. U 4
Oli. Can you tell, if Rofalind, the Duke's daughter, be banish'd with her father?
Cha. O, no; for the new Duke's daughter her cousin fo loves her, being ever from their cradles bred together, that fhe would have followed her exile, or have died to ftay behind her. She is at the Court, and no lefs beloved of her uncle than his own daughter; and never two ladies loved, as they do.
Oli. Where will the old Duke live?
Cha. They fay, he is already in the forest of Arden, and a many merry men with him; and there they live like the old Robin Hood of England; they say, many young gentlemen flock to him every day, and fleet the time carelefly, as they did in the golden world.
Oli. What, you wrestle to morrow before the new Duke?
Cha. Marry, do I, Sir; and I came to acquaint you with a matter. I am given, Sir, fecretly to understand, that your younger brother Orlando hath a difpofition to come in difguis'd against me to try a Fall; to morrow, Sir, I wreftle for my credit; and he, that escapes me without fome broken limb, fhall acquit him well. Your brother is but young and tender, and for your love I would be loth to foil him; as ĺ muft for mine own honour, if he come in; therefore out of my love to you, I came hither to acquaint you withal; that either you might ftay him from his intendment, or brook fuch difgrace well as he fhall run into; in that it is a thing of his own search, and altogether against my will.
Oli. Charles, I thank thee for thy love to me, which thou fhalt find, I will moft kindly requite. I had my felf notice of my brother's purpose herein, and have by underhand means laboured to diffuade him from it; but he is refolute. I tell thee, Charles, he is the stubborneft young fellow of France; full of 6 for the Duke's daughter her coufin] read, the NEW Duke's