Wherein I see myself,→→ Por. Mark you but that! Bass. Por. Then you shall be his surety. Give him this, It comes from Padua, from Bellario: There you shall find that Portia was the doctor, Shall witness I set forth as soon as you, Bass. Were you the doctor and I knew you not? Gra. Were you the clerk that is to make me cuckold? Ner. Ay, but the clerk that never means to do it, Unless he live until he be a man. Bass. Sweet doctor, you shall be my bedfellow : When I am absent, then lie with my wife. Are safely come to road. Por. How now, Lorenzo ! My clerk hath some good comforts too for you. Ner. Ay, and I'll give them him without a fee. There do I give to you and Jessica, From the rich Jew, a special deed of gift, After his death, of all he dies possess'd of. Lor. Fair ladies, you drop manna in the way Of starved people. Por. It is almost morning, [Exeunt. Lords, pages, and attendants, &c. SCENE: Oliver's house; Duke Frederick's court; and the Forest of Arden. ACT I-SCENE I Orchard of Oliver's house. Enter Orlando and Adam. Orl. As I remember, Adam, it was upon this fashion, bequeathed me by will but poor a thousand crowns, and, as thou sayest, charged my brother, on his blessing, 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 an ox? 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 on his dunghills are as much bound to him as I. Besides this nothing that he so plentifully gives me, the something that nature gave me his countenance seems 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 servitude: I will no longer endure it, though yet I know no wise remedy how to avoid it. [me up. Orl. Go apart, Adam, and thou shalt hear how he will shake Enter Oliver. Adam. Yonder comes my master, your brother. Oli. Now, sir! what make you here? Orl. Nothing: I am not taught to make any thing. Orl. 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. Orl. Shall I keep your hogs and eat husks with them? What prodigal portion have I spent, that I should come to such Oli. Know you where you are, sir? [penury? Orl. O, sir, very well; here in your orchard. Orl. Ay, better than him I am before knows me. I know Orl. Come, come, elder brother, you are too young in this. Orl. 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 says such 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 saying so: thou hast railed on thyself. Adam. Sweet masters, be patient: for your father's remembrance, be at accord. Oli. Let me go, I say. Orl. 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 like a peasant, obscuring and hiding from me all gentlemanlike qualities. The spirit of my father grows strong in me, and I will no longer endure it: therefore allow me such exercises as may become a gentleman, or give me the poor allottery my father left me by testament; with that I will go buy my fortunes. Oli. And what wilt thou do? beg, when that is spent? Well, sir, get you in: I will not long be troubled with you; you shall have some part of your will: I pray you, leave me. Orl. I will no further offend you than becomes me for my Oli. Get you with him, you old dog. [good. Adam. Is 'old dog' my reward? Most true, I have lost my teeth in your service. God be with my old master! he would not have spoken such a word. [Exeunt Orlando and Adam. Oli. Is it even so? begin you to grow upon me? I will physic your rankness, and yet give no thousand crowns neither. Holla, Dennis ! Enter Dennis. [me? Den. Calls your worship? Oli. Was not Charles, the Duke's wrestler, here to speak with Den. So please you, he is here at the door and importunes access to you. Oli. Call him in. [Exit Dennis.] 'Twill be a good way; and to-morrow the wrestling is. 1 Enter Charles. Cha. Good morrow to your worship. [court? Oli. Good Monsieur Charles, what's the new news at the new Cha. There's no news at the court, sir, but the old news: that is, the old Duke is banished by his younger brother the new Duke; and three or four loving lords have put themselves into voluntary exile with him, whose lands and revenues enrich the new Duke; therefore he gives them good leave to wander. Oli. Can you tell if Rosalind, the Duke's daughter, be banished with her father? T Cha. O, no; for the Duke's daughter, her cousin, so loves her, being ever from their cradles bred together, that she would have followed her exile, or have died to stay behind her. She is at the court, and no less 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 say 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 carelessly, 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, secretly to understand that your younger brother, Orlando, hath a disposition to come in disguised against me to try a fall. To-morrow, sir, I wrestle for my credit; and he that escapes me without some broken limb shall acquit him well. Your brother is but young and tender; and, for your love, I would be loath to foil him, as I must, for my own honour, if he come in: therefore, out of my love to you, I came hither to acquaint you withal; that either you might stay him from his intendment, or brook such disgrace well as he shall run into; in that it is a thing of his own search, and altogether against my will. |