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AS YOU LIKE IT.

A

COMEDY.

DUKE.

Dramatis Perfona.

Frederick, brother to the Duke, and ufurper of his dukedom.

Amiens,

Jaques,

} Lords attending upon the Duke in his banisument.

Le Beu, a courtier, attending on Frederick.

Oliver, eldest fon to Sir Rowland de Boys, whe had formerly been a fervant to the Duke."

Jaques, younger brothers to Oliver.

Orlando,

Adam, an old fervant of Sir Rowland de Boys, now following the fortunes of Orlando.

Dennis, fervant to Oliver.

Charles, a wrestler, and fervant to the ufurping Duke Frederick. Touchstone, a clown attending on Celia and Rofalind.

Corin,

Sylvius,} Prepherds.

A Clown, in love with Audrey.

William, another clown, in love with Audrey.

Sir Oliver Mar-text, a country curate.

Rofalind, daughter to the Duke.

Celia, daughter to Frederick.
Phœbe, a fhepherdess.

Audrey, a country wench

Lords belonging to the two Dukes; with Pages, Forefters, and other Attendants.

The SCENE lyes, firft, near Oliver's houfe; and afterwards, partly in the Duke's Court, and partly in the Forest of Arden.

AS YOU LIKE IT (1).

ACT I.

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SCENE, Oliver's Orchard.

Enter ORLANDO, and ADAM.

ORLANDO.

S I remember, Adam, it was upon this fashion

A bequeathed me by will, but a poor thoufand

crowns; and, as thou fayeft, charged my brother on his bleffing to breed me well; and there begins my fadness. My brother Jaques he keeps at fchool, and Report speaks goldenly of his profit: for my part, he keeps me ruftically at home; or, (to speak more properly) stays me here at home, unkept; for call you that keeping for a gentleman of my birth, that differs not from the stalling 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

(a) As you like it.] Neither Mr Langbaine nor Mr Gildon acquaint us to whom Shakespeare was indebted for any part of the fable of this play. But the characters of Oliver. Jaques, Orlando, and Adam and the epifodes of the Wreftler and the banished Tram seem to me plainly to be borrowed from Chaucer's Legend of Gamelyn in the Cock's tale. Though this Legend be found in many of the old MSS of that poet, it was never printed till the last edition of his works, prepared by Mr Urrey, came out.

VOL. IV.

H

him as I. Befides this nothing that he fo plentifully gives me, the fomething that nature gave me, his countenance 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 lyes, 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.

Enter OLIVER.

Adam. Yonder comes my mafter, your brother. Orla. Go apart, Adam, and thou fhalt hear how he will fhake me up.

Oli. Now, Sir, what make you here?

Orla. Nothing: I am not taught to make any Oli. What mar you then, Sir?

[thing. 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 better employed, and be naught awhile. (2)

Orla. Shall I keep your hogs, and eat hufks with them? what prodigal's portion have I spent, that I fhould come to fuch penury?

(2). be better employed, and be naught awhile.] i e. be better employed in my opinion, in being, and doing nothing. Your idleness, as you call it, may be an exercise, by which you make a figure, and endear yourself 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;

Statius eft otiofum effe quam nihil agere.

But Oliver, in the perverfeness of his difpofition, would reverfe the doctrine of the proverb.

Oli. Know you where you are, Sir?
Orla. O, Sir, very well; here in your orchard.
Oli. Know you before whom, Sir?

me:

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 should fo know me the courtesy of nations allows you my better, in that you 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; albeit, I confess your coming before me is nearer to his reverence.

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 pulled out thy tongue for faying fo; thou haft railed on thyfelf.

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 pleafe: you fhall hear me. My father charged you in his will to give me good education: you have trained me up like a peafant, obfcuring and hiding from me all gentleman-like qualities; the fpirit of my father grows ftrong in me, and I will no longer endure it: therefore allow me fuch exercifes as may become a gentleman, or give me the poor allottery my father left me by teftament; with that I will go buy my for

tunes.

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