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} Lords attending upon the Duke in his banißument.
a servant to the Duke.
the fortunes of Orlando. Dennis, servant 10 Oliver. Charles, a wrestler, and servant to the ufurping Duke Frederick. Touchstone, a clown attending on Celia and Rofalind. Corin,
} younger brothers to Oliver
, } Pepherds.
A Clown, in love with Audrey.
Rosalind, daughter to the Duke.
Lords belonging to the two Dukes ; with Pages, Forefters, and other
The SCENE lyes, first, near Oliver's house; and
afterwards, partly in the Duke's Court, and partly in the Forest of Arden.
AS YOU LIKE IT (1).
Scen E, Oliver's Orchard.
Enter ORLANDO, and ADAM.
bequeathed me by will, but a poor thoutand crowns; and, as thou sayeit, charged my brother on his blefling to breed me well; and there begins my sadness. My brother Jaques he keeps at school, and Report speaks goldenly of his profit: for my part, he keeps me rustically 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 anox ? his horses are bred better"; for besides 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 rn his dunghills are as much bound to
(1) 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 Wrestler and the banished Tram seem to me plainly to be borrowed from Chaucer's Legend of Gamelya in the Cock's tale. Though this Legend be found in many of the old M3S of that poet, it was never printed till the last edition of his works, prepared by Mr Urrey, came out. VOL. IV.
YOU LIKE I T. him as I. Befides this nothing that he so plentifully gives me, the fomething that nature gave me, his countenance seems to take from me. He lets me fced 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 bow to avoid it.
Enter OLIVER. Adam. Yonder comes my master, your brother.
Orla. Go apart, Adam, and thou shalt hear how he will shake me up. Oli. Now, Sir, what make
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 husks with them? what prodigal's portion have I spent, that I should come to such penury?
be better employed, and be ranght awhile.] i e. be better employed in my opinion, in being, and roing 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 sentiinent in his eye, quoted from Attilius by the younger Pliny and others;
Statius eft oriofum esse quam nihil agere. But Oliver, in the perverseness of his difpofition, would res serse the doctrine of the proverb.
Oli. Know you where you are,
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 so know me: the courtesy of nations allows you my better, in that you are the first born; but the same tradition takes not away my blood, were there twenty brother's 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!
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 Bóys; he was my fathe“, and he is thrice a villain that says such a father begot viàlains. Wert thou not my brother, I would not take this hand from thy throat, 'till this other had pulled out thy tongue for saying so; thou hart railed on thyself.
Adam. Sweet masters, be patient; for your father's remembrance, be at accord.
Oli. Let me go, I say.
Orla. I will not, 'till I please: you shall hear me. My father charged you in his will to give me good education: you have trained me up like a peasant, obscuring and hiding from me all gentleman-like qualities, the fpirit of my father grows strong in me, and I will no longer endure it: therefore allow me such exercises as may become a gentle. man, or give me the poor allottery my father left me hy telta.nent; with that I will go buy iny fortunes.