Imatges de pÓgina
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SCENE II. Changes to the palace again.

Enter Duke Frederick, with Lords.

Duke. Can it be poffible, that no man saw them? It cannot be; fome villains of my court

Are of confent and fufferance in this.

1 Lord. I cannot hear of any that did fee her.
The ladies, her attendants of her chamber,
Saw her a-bed, and in the morning early
They found the bed untreafur'd of their mistress.
2 Lord. My Lord, the roynifh clown at whom so oft
Your Grace was wont to laugh, is alfo miffing:
Hefperia, the Princefs' gentlewoman,
Confeffes, that fhe fecretly o'erheard

Your daughter and her coufin much commend
The parts and Graces of the wrestler,
That did but lately foil the finewy Charles;
And the believes, where-ever they are gone,
That youth is furely in their company.

Duke. Send to his brother, fetch that gallant hither:
If he be abfent, bring his brother to me,
I'll make him find him; do this fuddenly;
And let not fearch and inquifition quail
To bring again these foolish runaways.

[Exeunt.

SCENE III. Changes to Oliver's house.
Enter Orlando and Adam.

Orla. Who's there?

Adam. What! my young mafter? oh, my gentle mafter,

Oh, my fweet mafter, O you memory

Of old Sir Rowland! why, what make you here?
Why are you virtuous? why do people love you?
And wherefore are you gentle, strong, and valiant?
Why would you be fo fond to overcome
The bony prifer of the humorous Duke?
Your praife is come too fwiftly home before you.
Know you not, Mafter, to some kind of men
Their graces ferve them but as enemies?

No

No more do your's; your virtues, gentle Mafter,
Are fanctified and holy traitors to you.

Oh, what a world is this, when what is comely
Invenoms him that bears it!

Orla. Why, what's the matter?
Adam. O unhappy youth,

Come not within thefe doors; within this roof
The enemy of all your graces lives:

Your brother- (no; no brother; yet the son,—
Yet not the fon; I will not call him fon
Of him I was about to call his father),

Hath heard your praises, and this night he means
To burn the lodging where you use to lie,
And you within it; if he fail of that,
He will have other means to cut you off;
I overheard him, and his practices :

This is no place, this houfe is but a butchery;
Abhor it, fear it, do not enter it.

Orla. Why, whither, Adam, wouldft thou have me go?

Adam. No matter whither, fo you come not here. Orla. What, wouldst thou have me go and beg my Or with a base and boisterous sword enforce [food? A thievifh living on the common road?

This I must do, or know not what to do:
Yet this I will not do, do how I can ;

I rather will fubject me to the malice

Of a diverted blood, and bloody brother.

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Adam. But do not fo; I have five hundred crowns, The thrifty hire I fav'd under your father,

• Which I did ftore to be my foster-nurse

• When service should in my old limbs lie lame,
• And unregarded age in corners thrown :
Take that; and he that doth the ravens feed,
Yea, providently caters for the sparrow,
Be comfort to my age! Here is the gold,
All this I give you, let me be your fervant;
Though I look old, yet I am strong and lufty;
For in my youth I never did apply

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Hot and rebellious liquors in my blood;
Nor did I with unbafhful forehead woo
The means of weakness and debility;

• Therefore

'Therefore my age is as a lufty winter, Frofty, but kindly; let me go

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with you ;'

I'll do the fervice of a younger man

In all your business and neceffities.

Orla. Oh! good old man, how well in thee appears
The conftant fervice of the antique world;
When fervice fweat for duty, not for meed!
Thou art not for the fashion of these times,
Where none will fweat, but for promotion;
And having that, do choak their service up
Even with the having; it is not fo with thee;
But, poor old man, thou prun'ft a rotten tree,
That cannot fo much as a bloffom yield,
In lieu of all thy pains and hufbandry.
But come thy ways, we'll go along together;
And ere we have thy youthful wages spent,
We'll light upon fome fettled low content.
Adam. Malter, go on; and I will follow thee
To the laft gafp with truth and loyalty.
From feventeen years till now almost fourfcore
Here lived I, but now live here no more.
At seventeen years many their fortunes feek;
But at fourfcore, it is too late a week;

Yet Fortune cannot recompence me better
Than to die well, and not my mafter's debtor. [Exeunt
SCENE IV. Changes to the foreft of Arden.
Enter Rofalind in boys cloaths for Ganymede, Celia
drefs'd like a fhepherdefs for Aliena, and Clown.

Rof. O Jupiter! how weary are my spirits ? Clo. I care not for my fpirits, if my legs were not weary.

Rof. I could find in my heart to difgrace my man's apparel, and cry like a woman; but I must comfort the weaker veffel, as doublet and hose ought to fhow itself courageous to petticoat: therefore, courage, good Aliena.

Gel. I pray you, bear with me, I can go no further.

Clo. For my part, I had rather bear with you, than

bear

bear you; yet I fhould bear no crofs, if I did bear you; for I think you have no money in your purse. Rof. Well, this is the forest of Arden.

Clo. Ay; now I am in Arden, the more fool I ; when I was at home, I was in a better place; but travellers must be content.

Rof. Ay, be fo, good Touchstone. Look you, who comes here; a young man and an old in folemn talk. Enter Corin and Sylvius.

Cor. That is the way to make her fcorn you still. Syl. O Corin, that thou knew'ft how I do love her! Cor. I partly guefs; for I have lov'd ere now. Syl. No, Corin, being old, thou can'ft not guefs, Though in thy youth thou waft as true a lover, As ever figh'd upon a midnight-pillow; But if thy love were ever like to mine, (As fure, I think, did never man love so), How many actions most ridiculous

Haft thou been drawn to by thy fantafy?

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Gor. Into a thousand that I have forgotten.
Syl. O, thou didst then ne'er love fo heartily;
If thou remember'ft not the flightest folly,

• That ever love did make thee run into;
Thou haft not lov'd.

• Or if thou haft not fat as I do now,

Wearying the hearer in thy mistrefs' praife,
Thou hast not lov'd.

• Or if thou haft not broke from company
Abruptly, as my paffion now makes me ;
Thou haft not lov'd.'

O Phebe! Phebe ! Phebe !

[Exit. Syl. Rof. Alas, poor fhepherd! fearching of thy wound, I have by hard adventure found my own.

Clo. "And I mine. I remember, when I was in "love, I broke my fword upon a stone, and bid him "take that for coming a-nights to Jane Smile; and I "remember the kiffing of her batlet, and the cow's "dugs that her pretty chopt hands had milk'd ; and "I remember the wooing of a peafcod inftead of her, "from whom I took two cods, and giving her them

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again, faid with weeping tears, Wear thefe for my

"fake.

"fake. We that are true lovers, run into strange capers; but as all is mortal in nature, fo is all na "ture in love mortal in folly."

Ref. Thou speak'st wiser, than thou art ware of. Cl. Nay, I fhall ne'er be ware of mine own wit, till I break my shins against it.

Rof. Jove! Jove! this fhepherd's paffion is much upon my fashion.

Clo. And mine; but it grows fomething stale with me. Cel. I pray you, one of you question yond man, If he for gold will give us any food;

I faint almost to death.

Clo. Hola; you, clown!

Rof. Peace, fool; he's not thy kinfman.
Cor. Who calls?

Clo. Your betters, Sir.

Cor. Elfe they are very wretched.

Rof. Peace, I fay; Good even to you, friend.
Cor. And to you, gentle Sir, and to you all.
Rof. I pr'ythee, thepherd, if that love or gold,
Can in this defart place buy entertainment,
Bring us where we may reft ourselves, and feed;
Here's a young maid with travel much opprefs'd,
And faints for fuccour.

Cor. Fair Sir, I pity her,

And wish for her fake, more than for mine own,
My fortunes were more able to relieve her :
But I am fhepherd to another man,
And do not sheer the fleeces that I grafe;
My master is of a churlish difpofition,

And little wreaks to find the way to heav'n
By doing deeds of hofpitality:

Befides, his cote, his flocks, and bounds of feed
Are now on fale, and at our sheep-cote now,
By reafon of his abfence, there is nothing
That you will feed on; but what is, come fee,
And in my voice most welcome fhall you be.

Rof. What is he that fhall buy his flock and pa

fture?

Cor. That young fwain that you faw here but ere

while,

That little cares for buying any thing.

Rof.

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