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Den. So please you, he is here at the door, and mistress of: and would you yet I were merrier ? importunes access to you.

Unless you would teach me to forget a banished Oli. Call him in. (Exit DerNIS.F’T will be a father, you must not learn me how to remember good way; and to-inorrow the wrestling is.

any extraordinary pleasure. Enter CHARLES.

Cel. Herein, I see, thou lovest me not with the Cha. Good morrow to your worship.

full weight that I love thee: if my uncle, thy banOli. Good monsieur Charles !--what's the new father, so thou hadst been süll with me, I could

ished father, had banished thy uncle, the duhe my news at the new court? Cha. There's no news at the court, sir, but the

have taught my love to take thy father for mine; old news: that is, the old duke is banished by his so righteously temper'd as mine is to thee.

so wouldst thou, if the truth of thy love to me were younger brother the new duke; and three or four loving lords have put themselves into voluntary estate, to rejoice in yours.

Ros. Well, I will the condition of my exile with him, whose lands and revenues enrich the new duke; therefore he gives them good leave nor none is like to have; and, truly, when he dies,

Cel. You know my father hath no child but to wander. Oli. Can you tell, if Rosalind, the duke's daugh- from thy father perforce, I will render thee guai

thou shalt be his heir; for what he hath taken away ter, be banished with her father! Chu. O, no; for the duke's daughter, her cousin, break that oath, let me turn monster: therefore, my

in atlection; by mine honor, I will; and when I so loves her,-being ever from their cradles bred sweet Rose, iny dear Rose, be merry. together,--that she would have followed her exile,

Ros. From henceforth I will, coz, and devise or have died to stay behind her She is at the court, and no less beloved of her uncle than his sports; let me see; What think you oftalling in love? own daughter; and never two ladies loved as they do. but love no min in good earnest; nos no further in

Cel. Marry, I pr’ythee, do, to make sport withal: Oli. Where wil the old duke live? Cha. They say he is already in the forest of sport neither, than with safety of a pure blush thou Arden, and a many merry men with him; and mayst in honor come off again.

Ros. What shall be our sport then? there they live like the old Robin Hood of Eng.

Col. Let us sit and mock the good housewife. land: they say, many young gentlemen flock to Fortune, from her wheel, that her gitts may hencehim every day; and tleei the time carelessly, as they forth be bestowed equally. did in the golden world.

Ros. I would, we could do so ; for her benefits Oli. What, you wrestle to-morrow before the new duke?

are mnightily misplaced : and the bountiful blind

woman doth most mistake in her gifts to women. Cha. Marry, do I, sir; and I came to acquaint

Cel. 'Tis true: for those, that she makes fair, sho you with a matter. I am given, sir, secretly to understand, that your younger brother, Orlando, hath honest. she makes very ill-favor dly,

scarce makes honest; and those, that she makes a disposition to come in disguis d against ine to try a fall: To-morrow, sir, I wrestle for my credit; to nature's: fortune reigns ingilts of the world, not

Ro8. Nay, now thou goest from fortune's ollice and he that escapes me without some broken limb, in the lineaments of nature. shall acquit hun well. Your brother is but young, and tender; and, for your love, I would be loath to

Enter ToccusTONE. foil him, as I inust, for iny own honor, if he come in: therefore, out of iny love to you, I came hither

Cel. No? When nature hath made a fair creature, to acquaint you withal; that either you misht stay may she not by fortune fall into the fire ?- Though him from his intendment, or brook such disgrace

nature hath given us wit to llout at fortune, hath not well as he shall run ito, in that it is a thing of

fortune sent in this fool to cut off the ar-ument? his own search, and altogether against my will.

Ros. Indeed, there is fortune too hard for nature; Oli. Charles, I thank thee for thy love to me,

wheu fortune mahes nature's natural the cutter ofl which thou shalt tind I will most kindly requite. I

of nat'.re's wit. had myself notice of my brother's purpose herein,

Cel. Peradventure, this is not fortune's work and have by underhand means labored to dissuade neither, but nature's: who perceiving our natural him from it; but he is resolute. I'll tell thee,

wits too dull to reason of such goddesses, hath sent Charles, -he is the stubbornest young fellow of

this natural for our whetstone: for always the dulFrance; full of ambition, an envious emulator of

ness of the food is the wbetstone of his wits.-llow every man's good parts, a secret and vilanous n'w, wit! whither wander you? contriver against me bis natural brother; therefor:

Touch. Mistress, you must come away to your use thy discretion; I had as lief thou didst break

father. his neck as his tinyer. And thou wert best look

Cel. Where you made the messenger? to t; for it thou do'st him any slight disgrace, or it

Toi:ch. No, by mine honor; but I was bid to he do not mightily grace hinself on thee, he will come for you. practise against thee by poison, entrap thee by some

Ros. Where learned you that oath, fooi? treacherous device, and never leave thee till he hath

Touch. Of a certain hnighi, that swore by his ta'en thy life by some indirect means or other; for. honor they were good pancahes, and swore by his I assure thee, and almost with tears I speak is, ibere honor the mustard was Daught: now. I || stand to is not one so young and so villunious this day living it, the pancakes were naught, and the mostard was I speak but brotherly of him; but should ì anato-good; and yet was not the kmght forsworn. mize him to thee as he is, I must blush and weep,

Ctl. How prove you that, in the great heap of and thou must look pale and wonder.

your knowledge! Chu, I am heartily glad, I came hither to you;

Ros. Ay, marry; now unmuzzle your wisdom. If he come to-morrow, I'll give him his payment:

Touch. Stand you both forth now; stroke your If ever he go alone again, I'll never wrestle for chins, and swear by your beards that ham aknave. prize more: And so, God heep your worship!

Cel. By our beards, if we had them, thou art. (Exit.

Touch. By my knavery, if I had it, then I were : Oli

. Farewell, good Charles.--Now will í stirbut if you swear by that that is not, you are not this gamester: 'I hope I shall see an end of him: forsworn: nomore was this knight, swearing by his for my soul, yet I know not why, batez nothing honor, for he never had any; or if he had, he had more than he. Yet he's gentle; 'never schoold, sworn it away, before ever he saw those pancakes and yet learned; full of noble device: of all sorts:

or that mustard. enchantingly beloved; and, indeed, so much in the

Cel. Prythee, who is't that thou mean'st? heart of the world, and especially of my own peo

Touch. Une that old Frederick, your father, loves. ple, who best know him, that I am altogether inis

Cel. My father's love is enough to honor him. prised: but it shall not be so long; this wrestler Enough! speak no more of him: you'll be whipp'd Bhall clear all: nothing remains, but that I kindle for taxations one of these days. the boy thither, which now Ull go about. [Eril.

Touch. The more pity, that fools may not speak SCENE 11.-A Lawn before the Duke's Palace.

wisely, what wise men do foolishly.

Cel. By my troth, thou say 'st true: for since the Enter Rosalind and CELLA.

little wit, that fools have, was silenced, the little pray thee, Rosalind, sweet my coz, be merry foolery, that wise men have, makes a great show. Ros. Dear Celia, I show more mirth than I am

Here comes Monsieur Le Beau. Frolicksome fellow. • Of all ranks.

* Satire.

Cel. I

Enter LE BEAU.

or knew yours::t with your judgment, the fear of Ros. With his mouth full of news.

your adventure would counset you to a inore equal Cel. Which he will put on us, as pigeons feed enterprise. We pray fou, for your own sake, to their young

embrace your own safety, and give over this at empt. Ros. Then shall we be news-cramm'd.

Ros. Do, young sir; your reputation shall not Cel. All the better; we shall be the more mar- therefore be misprised: we will make it our suit to ketable. Bon jour, Monsieur Le Beau: What's the the duke, that the wrestling inight not go forward. news ?

Orl. I beseech you, punish me not with your Le Beau. Fair princess, you have lost můch good to deny so fair and excellent ladies any thing. But

hard thoughts; wherein I confess me much guilty, sport. Cel. Sport? Of what color ?

let your fair eyes, and gentle wishes, yo with me to Le Beau. What color, madam ? How shall I my trial: wherein if I be foiled, there is but one answer you?

shamed that was never gracious: if killed, but one Ros. As wit and fortune will.

dead that is willing to be so: I shall do my friends Touch. Or as the destinies decree.

no wrong, for I have none to lament me; the world Cel. Well said; that was laid on with a trowel. no injury; for in it I have nothing; only in the Touch. Nay, if I keep not my rank,

world' I till up a place which may be better supRos. Thou losest thy old smell.

plied when I have made it empty. Le Beau. You amaze me, ladies; I would have

Ros. The little strength that I have, I would it

were with you. told you of good wrestling, which you have lost the sight of.

Cel. And mine, to eke out hers. Ros. Yet tell us the manner of the wrestling.

Ros. Fare you well. Pray heaven, I be deceived Le Bean. I will tell you the beginning, and if it in you! please your ladyships, you may see the end; for

Cel. Your heart's desires be with you. the best is yet to do; and here, where you are,

Cha. Come where is this young gallant, that is

so desirous to lie with his mother earth ? they are coming to perform it. Cel. Well,-the beginning, that is dead and

Orl. Ready, sir; but his will hath in it a m re buried.

modest working, Le Bean. There comes an old man, and his three

Duke F. You shall try but one fall.

Cha. No, I warrant your grace; you shall not sons,

Çel. I could match this beginning with an old tale. I entreat him to a second, that have so mightily perLe Beau, Three proper young men, of excellent suaded him from a first. growth and presence;

Orl. You mean to mock me after; you should Ros. With bills on their necks,-Be it known not have mocked me before: but come your ways. unto all men by these presents,

Ros. Now, Hercules be thy speed, young man ! Le Beau. The eldest of the three wrestled with

Cel. I would I were invisible, to catch the strong Charles, the duke's wrestler; wbich Charles in a

fellow by the lez: (CHARLES and ORLANDO wrestle. moment threw him, and broke three of his ribs.

Ros. Ő excellent young man ! that there is little hope of life in hin: so he served

Cel. If I had a triunderbolt in mine eye, I can the second, and so the third : Yonder they lie; the tel who should down. (CHARLES is throun. Shout.

Dicke F. No more, no more. poor old man, their father, making such pitiful dole over them, that all the beholders lake his part with

Orl. Yes, 1 beseech your grace; I am not yet weeping:

well breathed. Ros. Alas!

Duke F. How dost thou, Charles ? Touch. But what is the sport, monsieur, that the

L- Beun. He cannot speak, my lord. ladies have lost?

D.che F. Bear un away. (CHARLES is borne out. Le Beau. Why, this that I speak of.

What is thy name, young man! Touch. Thus men may grow wiser every day! i

0:1. Orlando, my lieve; the youngest son of Sir is the first time that I ever heard, breaking of ribs

lowland de Buis.

Dreie F. I would thou hadst been son to some was sport for ladies.

Cel. Or I, I promise thee.
Ros. But is there any else longs to see this broken

"he work esteemid thy father honorable, music in his sides? is there yet another dotes upon

111 I did find hin still mine enemy: rib-breaking ?-Shall we see this wrestling, cousin ?

inou soust have better pleasi ine with this

deid. Le Beau. You must, if you stay here : for here is

Hadst thou descended from another house. the place appointed for the wrestling, and they are ready to perforin it.

ibut fire thee weil; ihou art a quant youihi;

I would thou hadst told me of another father. Cél. Yonder, sure, they are coming: Let us now stay and see it.

TE.reunt DUKE EREN., Traill, aint LE BEAV.

(el. lcre I my father, coz, would I do this? Flourish. Enter DUKE FREDERICK, LORUS, Or

Orl. In more proud to be Sir Rowland's son, LANDO, CHARLES, and Attendants.

Plis youngest son--and would not change thai

Calling, Duke F. Come on; since the youth will not be entreated, his own peril on his forwardness.

robe adopted heir to Frederick. Ros. Is yonder the man?

Ros. My father lovil Sir Rowland as his soul,

indulile world was of my fatitis mind: Le Begit. Even le, madam.

Had I becore hirown ibis jounili Disson, Cel. Alas, he is too young : yet he looks suc

I should derived him leurs uniu entreaties, cessfully.

Ere he should thus have ventur'u. Duke F. How now, daughter, and cousin ? are


Gentle cousin, you crept hither to see the wrestling!

Let us ro thank him, and encourage buna;
Ros. Ay, my lieve! so please you give us leave.
Duke F. You will take little delight in it, I can

siy father's road and envw08 d. position

tichsneat heari.-Sir, you have well deservd: tell you, there is such odds in the med: In pity 01 the challenger's youth, I would fain disuade him. !! du keep your promises in to vi', but he will not be entreated : Speak to him, ludies. You mistiess shall be happy.

Bui justly, it you have "Atecdei promise, see if y'll can move him.

Rus. Cel. Call him hither, good Monsieur Le Beau.

Gentleman, Dike F. Do so: I'll not be by.DUKE goes tipurl. Wear this fone; ove out of susivih bitume;,

Giring him a chain 170m herinck. Le Beail. Monsieur the challenger,the princesses Phat could ne more, but that her brauc lacks call for you. Orl. I attend them, with all respect and duty.

Shall we ), coz? Ros. Youn, man, have you challen, cd Charles the wrestler !

AY:--Fare you well fair gentleman.

Orl. Can I husly, I thank you? My beuer parts Orl. No, fair princess; he is the general challenger: I come but in, as others du, to try with him is but a qumain, a mere lifeinss Doak.

Are all thrown afwii; and Heat which here stands up, the strength of my youth.

Rus. He calls us bach: My pride tell with my Cel. Young gentieman, your spirits are too bold

tortures: for your years: You have seen cruel proli of this man's strength; it you saw yourseli i

ivati), eyes

& The ulject to dart at in martial exercises.

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I'll ask him what he would :-Did you call, sir?- | And get you from our court.
Sir, you have wrestled well, and overthrown


Me, uncle? More than your enemies.

Duke F.

You, cousin ; Cel.

Will you go, coz? Within these ten days if that thou be st found Ros. Have with you :-Fare you well.

So near our public court as twenty miles, | Ezennt ROSALIND and CELIA. Thou diest for it. Orl. What passion hangs these weig lits upon Ros.

I do beseech your grace, my tongue ?

Let me the knowledge of my fault bear with me: I cannot speak to her, yet she urged conference. If with myself I hold intelligence, Re-enter LE BEAU.

Or have acquaintance with mine own desires;

If that I do not dream, or be not frantic, () poor Orlando! thou art overthrown:

(As I do trust I am not,) then, dear uncle, 01 Charles, or something weaker, masters thee. Le Beant. Good sir, I do in friendship counsel you. Did I oflend your bighness.

Never, so much as in a thought unborn, To leave this place: Albeit you have deserv’d

Duke F

Thus do all traitors; High commendation, true applause and love;

If their purgation did consist in words,
Yet such is now the duke's condition,
That he misconstrues all that you have done.

They are as innocent as grace itselt;

Let it suflice thee, that I trust thee not. The duke is humorous; what he is, indeed,

Ros. Yet your mistrust cannot make me a traitor: More suits you to conceive, than me to speak of.

Tell me whereou the likelihood depends. Orl. I thank you, sir : and pray you, tell me this;

Duke F. Thou art thy father's daughter, there's Which of the two was daughier of the duke,

enough. That here was at the wrestling?

Ros. So was I, when your highness took his Le Beau. Neither his daughter, if we judge by

dukedom; manners;

So was I, when your highness banish'd him: But yet indeed, the shorter is his daughter:

Treason is not inherited, my lord; The other is daughter to the banishid duke,

Or, if we derive it from our friends, And here detain’d by her usurping uncle,

What's that to me? my father was no traitor : To keep his daughter company; whose loves

Then, good my liege, mistake me not so much, Are dearer than the natural bond of sisters:

To think my poverty is treacherous. But I can tell you, that of late this duke

(el. Dear sovereign, bear me speak. Hath ta'en displeasure 'gainst his gentle niece;

Duke F. Ay, Celia ; we stay d liere for your sake, Grounded upon no other argument,

Else had she with her father ranged along. But that the people praise her for her virtues,

Cel. I did not then entreat to have her stay, And pity her for her good father's sake:

It was your pleasure and your own remorse : And, 'on my life, his malice 'gainst the lady

I was too young that time to value her. Will suddenly break forth.—Sir, fare you well;

But now I know her: if she be a traitor,
Hereafter, in a better world than this,

Why so am 1; we still have slept together,
I shall desire more love and knowledge of you.
Orl. I rest much bounden to you: fare you well! And wheresoer we went, like Juno's swans,

Rose at an instant, learn d, play'd, eat together ;

[Exit LE Brau. Süll we went coupled, and inseparable. Thus must I from the smoke into the smother;

Duke F. She is too subtile for thee; and her From tyrant duke, unto a tyrant brother :

smoothness, But heavenly Rosalind!

[Erit. Her very silence, and her patience, SCENE III.- A Room in the Palace. Speak to the people, and they pity her. Enter CELIA and Ros ALIND.

Thou art a fool: 'she robs thee of thy name: Cel. Why, cousin; why, Rosalind ;-Cupid have And thou wilt show more bright and seem more

virtuous, mercy !-Not a word ?

When she is gone: then open not thy lips; Ros. Not one to throw at a dog. Cel. No, thy words are too precious to be cast which I have pass'd upon her; she is banish’d.

Firm and irrevocable is my doom away upon curs, throw some of them at me; come,

Cel. Pronounce that sentence then on me, my lame me with reasons. Ros. Then there were two cousins laid up; when I cannot live out of her company.

liege; the one should be lamed with reasons, and the other mad without any:

Duke F. You are a fool :-You, niece, provide Cel. But is all this for your father?

yourself; Ros. No, some of it for my father's child: 0, And in the greatness of my word, you die.

If you out-stay the time. upon mine honor how full of briars is this working-diy world!

(E.ceunt DUKE FREDERUCK and Lords. Cel. They are but burs, cousin, thrown upon thee

Cel. O, my poor Rosalind! whither wilt thou go? in holiday foolery; if we walk not in the trodden

Wilt thou change fathers? I will give thee mine. paths, our very petticoats will catch them. Ros . I could shake them off my coat; these burs' charged thee, be not thou more griev'd than I am.

Ros. I have more cause. are in my heart.


Thou hast not, cousin; Cel. Hem them away. Ros. I would try; if I could cry hem, and have Prythee, be cheerful: know st thou not, the duke

laih banish'd me, his daughter? him.


That he hath not, Cel. Come, come, wrestle with thy affections, Cel. Vo? hath not? Rosalind lacks then the love Ros. (, they take the part of a better wrestler

Which teacheth thee that thou and I are one : than myself. time, in despite of a fall.-But, turning these jests Therefore devise with me, how we may fly, Cel: 0; a good wish upon you! you will try in Shall we be sunderd?shall we part, sweet girl ?

No; let another out of service, let us talk in good earnest: Is it pos-Whither to go, and what to bear with us: sible on such a sudden, you should fall into so

ind do not seek to take your change upon you, strong a liking with old Sir Rowland's youngest son? To bear vour grief yourself, and leave me out; Ros. The duke my father lov'd his father dearly. For, br dis beaven, now at our sorrows pale,

Cel. Doth it therefore ensue, that you should love Say what thou cansi, l'll go along with thee. his son dearly? By this kind of chase, I should hate

Ros. Why, whither shall we go? him, for my father hated his father dearly; yet I


To seek my uncle. hate not Orlando,

Ros. Alas, what danger will it be to us, Ros. No; hate him not, for my sake.

Maids as we are, to travel forth so far? Cel. Why should I not? doth he not deserve Beauty provoketh thieves sooner than gold. well!

Cel. I'll put myself in poor and mean attire, Ros. Let me love him for that; and do you love

And with a kind of umbers smirch my face; him because I do:-Look, here comes the duke. Cel. With his eyes full of anger.

The like do you ; so shall we pass along,

And never siir assailants.
Enter DUKE FREDERICK, wilh Lords.


Were it not better, Duke F. Mistress, dispatch you with your safest Because that I am more than common tall, baste,

That I did suit me all points like a man; * Temper, disposition.

. Compassion. A dusky, yellow colored earth. A gallantcurtie-axt up in my thigh,

No longer Celia, but Aliena. A boar spear in my hand; and in my heart, R98. Bul, cousill, what li we essay'd to steal Lie there what hiuden woman's tear there will) The clownish 10 out or your father's court? We'll have a swasting and a martial outside ; Would he not be a comfort to our travel! As many other namnisti cowards have,

C. Helgo alon: ver the wide world with me; That do outface it with their semblances.

Leave me alone to won bim: Let's away,
Ce!. What shaill call thee when thou ert a man? And get our jewois and our wealth togeiher ;
Ros. Till have no wors. a na ne than Jove's own Devise the tille'st une, and satest way

To hide trom pursuit that will be made
And therefore look you call me, Ganymede. After my light: now 10 we in content
But what will you be call d ?

To liberly and not to banishment. [Exeunt. Cel. Something that hath a reference to my state;!


SCENE 1.-The Forest of Arden.

Duke S. And did you leave him in this contemEnter DUKE Senior, Amiens, and other Lords, in


2 Lord. We did, my lord, weeping and comthe dress of Foresters.

menting Duke S. Now, my co-mates, and brothers in exile, Upon the sobbing deer. Hath not old custom made this life more sweet

Duke S.

Show me the place;
Than that of painted pomp? Are not these woods I love to cope him in these sullen tits,
More free from peril than the envious court? For then he's full of matter.
Here feel we but the penalty of Adam,

2 Lord. I'll bring you to bim straight. [Exeunt. The seasons difference; as, the icy fang,

SCENE II.-d Room in the Palace.
And churlish chiding of the winter's wind;
Which when it bites and blows upon my body,

Enter DUKE FREDERICK, Lords, and Attendants. Even till I shrink with cold, I smile, and say,

Duke F. Can it be possible that no man saw them? This is no flattery: these are counsellors

It cannot be : some villains of my court That feelingly persuade me what I am.

Are of consent and sutlerance in this, Sweet are the uses of adversity ;

1 Loril. I cannot hear of any that did see her. Which, like the toad, ugly and venomous,

The ladies, her attendants of her chamber, Wears yet a precious jewel in his head;

Saw her a-bed; and, in the morning carly, And this our life, exempt from public haunt, Finds tongues in trees, books in the running brooks, They found the bed untreasurd of their mistress.

2 Loril. My lord, the roynishs clownat whom so oft Sermons in stones, and good in every thing. Ami. I would not change it: Hapry is your grace, Hesperia, the princess' gentlewoman,

Your grace was wont to laugh, is also missing. That can translate the stubbornness of fortune

Confesses, thai she secretly o'erheard Into so quiet and so sweet a style.

Your daughter and her cousin much commend Duke S. Come, shall we go and kill us venison ?

The parts and graces of the wrestler
And yet it irks me, the poor dappled tools,- That did but lately toil the sinewy Charles;
Being native burgers of this desert city:-
Should in their own confines, with toi ked heads That youth is surely in their company,

And she believes, wherever they are sone,
Have their round haunches gored.

Duke F. Send to his brother; fetch that galant 1 Lord.

Indeed, my lord,

bither; The melancholy Jaques grieves at that;

If he be absent, bring his brother to me, And, in that kind, swears you do more usurp I'll make him tind him: do this suddenly; Than doth your brother that hath banish'd you.

And let not search and inquisition quails To-day, my lord of Amiens, and myself,

To bring again these toolisli runaways. Exeunt.
Did steal behind him, as he lay along
Under an oak, whose antique root peeps out

SCENE III.- Before Oliver's House.
Upon the brook that brawls along ihis wood:
To the which place a poor sequester'd stag,

Enter ORLAN!and ADAM, meeting.
That from the hunter's aim had ta'en a hurt,

Orl. Who's there? Did come to languish; and, indeed, my lord,

Adam. What? my young master !--0, my genThe wretched animal heav'd forth such groans,

tle master, That their discharge did stretch his leathern coat 0, my sweet masier, () you memory: Almost to bursting; and the big round tears of old sir Rowland! why, what make you here? Cours d one another down his innocent nose Why are you virtuous ? Why do people love you? In piteous chase: and thus the hairy fool,

And wherefore are you gentle, strong, and valiant! Much marked of the melancholy Jaques,

Why should you be so fonds to overcome Stood on the extremest verge of the swift brook, The bony prizer of the humorous duke? Augmenting it with tears.

Your praise is come too swirly home before you. Duke s.

But what said Jaques? Know you not, master, to some hind of men Did he not moralize this spectacle?

Their graces serve them but as enemies? 1 Lord. O, yes, into a thousand similes.

No more do yours; your virtues, gentle master,
First, for his weeping in the needless stream; Are sanctified and holy traitors to you.
Poor leer, quoth he, thou mak'st a testament 0, what a world is this, when what is comely
As worldlings do, giving thy sum of more

Envenons bum that bears it?
To that which had too much: Then, being alone, Orl. Why, what's the matter?
Left and abandon d of his velvet friends;


() unhapry youth, 'Tis right, quoth he; thus misery dath part Come not within these doors ; within this rooi The flur of company: Anon, a careless herd,

The enemy of all your graces lives: Full of the pasture, jumps along by him,

Your brother- no, no brother; yet the sonAnd never stays to greet him; tụ, quoth Jaques, yet not the son :- I will not call hon sonSwerpon, you fol and greasy citizens;

Of him I was about to call his father 'Tis just the fashion: Wherefore do you look Hath heard your praises; and this night he means Upon that poor un t broken bankrup ihere? To burn the loding where you use to lie, Thus most invectively he pierceth through

And you within it: it he tail or that, The body of the country, city, court,

He will have other means to cut you off: Yea, and of this our lite: swearins, that we I overhea d him, and his practices. Are mere usurpers, tyrants, and what's worse This is no place, th 's house is but a butchery; To fright the animals, and to kill them up,

Abhor it, tear it, do not enter it. In their assigned and native dwellin -place.

* Encounter. > Scurvey. • Sink into dejection. i Cutlass. * Swaggering 3 Barbed arrows. + Memorial,

* Inconsiderate.

Orl. Why, whither, Adam, wouldst thou have Sil. O, thou didst then ne'er love so heartily: me go ?

If thou remember'st not the slightest folly
Adarn. No matter whither, so you come not here. That ever love did make thee run into,
Orl. What, wouldst thou have me go and beg my Thou hast not lov’d:

Or it thou hast not sat as I do now,
Or, with a base and boisterous sword, enforce Wearying thy hearer in thy mistress' praise,
A thievish living on the common road?

Thou hast not lovid:
This I must do, or know not what to do:

Or if thou hast not broke from company, Yet this I will not do, do how I can ;

Abruptly, as my passion now makes me, I rather will subjéct me to the malice

Thou hast not lov'd: 0 Pliebe, Chebe, Phebe! Or a diverted blood, and bloody brother.

(Exit Silvius. Adam. But do not so:I have five hundred crowns, Ros. Alas, poor shepherd! searching of thy wound. The thrifty hire I sav'd under your father,

I have by hard adventure found my own. Which I did store, to be my foster-nurse,

Touch. And I mine: I remember, when I was When service should in my old limbs lie lame, in love, I broke my sword upon a stone, and bid And unregarded age in corners thrown:

him take that for coming alight to Jane Smile: Take that: and He that doth the ravens feed, and I remember the kissing of her batlet, and the Yea, providently caters for the sparrow,

cow's dugs that her pretty chop'd hands had milk'd: Be comfort to my age! Here is the gold';

and I remember the wooing of a peascod instead All this 1 give you: Let me be your servant; of her; from whom I took iwo cobs, and giving her Though I look old, yet I am strong and lusty: them again, said with weeping tears, Wear These For in my youth I never did apply.

for my sake. We, that are true lovers, run into Hot and rebellious liquors in my blood;

strange capers; but as all is mortal in nature, so is Nor did not with unbashful forehead woo

all nature in love mortal in folly. The means of weakness and debility;

Ros. Thou speak'st wiser than thou art 'ware of. Therefore my age is as a lusty winter,

Touch. Nay, I shall ne'er be 'ware of mine own Frosty, but kindly: let me go with you;

wit, till I break my shins against it. I'll do the service of a younger man

Rus. Jove! Jove! this shepherd's passion In all your business and necessities.

Is much upon my fashion. Orl. o good old man; how well in thee appears Touch. And mine; but it grows something stale The constant service of the antique world,

with me. When service sweat for duty, not for meed! Cel. I pray you, one of you question yon man, Thou art not for the fashion of these times, If he for gold will give us any food; Where none will sweat, but for promotion; I faint alınost to death. And having that do choke their service up

Touch. Holla; you clown! Even with the having: it is not so with thee.


Peace, fool, he's not thy kinsman. But, poor old man, thou prun’st a rotten tree, Cor. Who calls ? That cannot so much as a blossom yield,

Touch. Your better, sir. In lieu of all thy pains and husbandry:

Cor. Else are they very wretched. But come thy ways, we'll go along together;


Peace, I say And ere we have thy youthful wages spent, Good even to you, friend. We'll light upon some settled low content.

Cor. And to you, gentle sir, and to you all. Idani. Master, go on; and I will follow thee, Ros. I pry'thee, shepherd, if that love, or gold, To the last gasp with truth and loyalty:

Can in this desert place buy entertainment, From seventeen years till now almost fourscore Bring us where we may rest ourselves, and feed : Here lived I, but now live here no more.

Here's a young maid with travel much oppress'd. At seventeen years many their fortunes seek;

And faints for succor. But at fourscore, it is too late a week:


Fair sir, I pity her, Yet fortune cannot recompense me better,

And wish for her sake, more than for mine own, Than to die well, and not my master's debtor. My fortunes were more able to relieve her:

[Exeunt. But I am shepherd to another man, SCENE IV.-The Forest of Arden.

And do not shear the fleeces that I graze;

My master is of churlish disposition,
Enter Rosalind in Boy's clothes, Celta dressed And little recks to find the way to heaven

like a Shepherdess, and Touchstone. By doing deeds of hospitality : Ros. () Jupiter! how weary are my spirits !

Besides, his cote, his tiocks, and bounds of feed, Touch. I care not for my spirits, if my legs were By reason of his absence, there is nothing

Are now on sale, and at our sheepcote now, Ros. I could find in my heart to disgrace my That you will feed on: but what is, come see, man's apparel, and to cry like a woman

: but I must And in my voice most welcome shall you be. comfort the weaker vessel, as doublet and hose ought

Ros. What is he that shall buy his nock and to show itself courageous to petticoat: therefore,

pasture? courage, good Aliena.

Cor. That young swain that you saw here but Cel. I pray you, bear with me; I can go no further.

erewhile, than bear you: yet I should bear no cross, if I did Touch. For my part, I had rather bear with you That little cares for buying any thing.

Ros. I pray thee, if it stand with honesty, bear you: for, I think, you have no money in your Buy thou the cottage, pasture, and the flock, purse.

And thou shalt have to pay for it of us. Ros. Well, this is the forest of Arden.

Cel. And we will mend thy wages: I like this place, 1 ; when I was at home, I was in a better place; Go with me; if you like upon report, Touch. Ay, now am I in Arden : the more fool And willingly could waste my time in it,

Cor. Assuredly, the thing is to be sold; but travelers must be content.

Ros. Ay, be so, good Touchstone:--Look you, The soil, the profit, and this kind of life, who comes here; a young man and an old, in I will your very faithful feeder be, solemn talk.

And buy it with your gold right suddenly. (Exeunt.
Enter Corix and Silyius.

SCENE V.-The same.
Cor. That is the way to make her scorn you still! Enter AMIENS, JAQUES, and others.
Sil. O Corin, that thou knew'st how I do love her.

Cor. I partly guess; for I have lov'd ere now. Ami. Under the greenwood tree,
Sil. No, Corin, being old thou canst not guess;

Who loves to lie with me,
Though in thy youth thou wast as true a lover

And tune his merry note, As ever sigh'd upon a midnight pillow:

Unto the sweet bird's throat, But if thy love were ever like to mine,

Come hither, come hither, come hither ; (As sure I think did never man love so,)

Here shall he see How many actions most ridiculous

No enemy, Hast thou been drawn to by thy fantasy!

But winter and rough weather. Cor. Into a thousand that I have forgotten.

. In the night. • Blood turned from its natural course.

3 The instrument with which washers beat clothes. 1 A piece of money stamped with a cross.

Cares. 12

not weary.

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