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Are of consent and sufferance in this.

1 Lord. I cannot hear of any that did see her. The ladies, her attendants of her chamber, Saw her a-bed; and, in the morning early, They found the bed untreasur'd of their mistress. 2 Lord. My lord, the roynish clown, at whom so

oft
Your grace was wont to laugh, is also missing.
Hesperia, the princess' gentlewoman,
Confesses, that she secretly o’erheard
Your daughter and her cousin much cominend
The

parts and graces of the wrestler
That did but lately foil the sinewy Charles;
And she believes, wherever they are gone,
That youth is surely in their company;
Duke F. Send to his brother; fetch that gallant

hither; If he be absent, bring his brother to me, I'll make him find bim: do this suddenly; And let not search and inquisition quail? To bring again these foolish runaways. [Exeunt.

SCENE III.

Before Oliver's House.

Enter ORLANDO and ADAM, meeting. Orl. Who's there? Adam. What! my young master?-0, my gentle

master, O, my sweet master, O you memorys

6- the roynish clown] Rownish, from rogneur, French.

quail --) To quail is to faint, to sink into dejection.

O you memory -] Shakspeare often uses memory for memorial; and Beaumont and Fletcher sometimes.

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 so fondo to overcome
The bony priser of the humorous duke?
Your praise is come too swiftly home to you. .
Know you not, master, to some kind of men
Their graces serve them but as enemies
No more do yours; your virtues, gentle master,
Are sanctified and holy traitors to you.
O, what a world is this, when what is comely
Envenoms him that bears it!

Orl. Why, what's the matter?
Adam.

O unhappy youth,
Come not within these doors; within this roof
The enemy of all your graces lives:
Your brother--(no,-no brother; yet the son-
Yet not the son ;-I will not call him son-
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 house is but a butchery; Abhor it, fear it, do not enter it. Orl. Why, whither, Adam, wouldst thou have

me go? Adam. No matter whither, so you come not

here.

9-so fond -] i. e. so indiscreet, so inconsiderate.

'The bony priser -] The word bonny occurs more than once in the novel from which this play of As You Like It is taken. It is likewise much used by the common people in the northern counties. I believe, however, bony to be the true reading.

MALONE, ? This is no place,] i, e, for you.

*

Orl. What, wouldst thou have me go and beg my

food?
Or, with a base and boisterous sword, enforce
A thievish 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 subjéct me to the malice
Of a diverted blood, and bloody brother.

Adam. But do not so: I have five hundred crowns,
The thrifty hire I sav'd under your father,
Which I did store, to be iny

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 servant;
Though I look old, yet I am strong and lusty:
For in my youth I never did apply
Hot and rebellious liquors in my blood;
Nor did not with unbashful forehead woo
The means of weakness and debility;
Therefore my age is as a lusty winter,
Frosty, but kindly: let me go with you;
I'll do the service of a younger man
In all your business and necessities.

Orl. O good old man; how well in thee appears
The constant service of the antique world,
When service sweat for duty, not for meed!
Thou art not for the fashion of these times,
Where none will sweat, but for promotion;
And having that, do choke their service up
Even with the having:* it is not so with thee.
But, poor old man, thou prun'st a rotten tree,

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diverted-] turned out of the course of nature. 4 Eren with the having :) Even with the promotion gained by service is service extinguished. JOHNSON.

That cannot so much as a blossom yield,
In lieu of all thy pains and husbandry:
But come thy ways, we'll go along together;
And ere we have thy youthful wages spent,
We'll light upon some settled low content.

Adam. Master, go on; and I will follow thee,
To the last gasp, with truth and loyalty.-
From seventeen years till now almost fourscore
Here lived I, but now live here no more.
At seventeen years many their fortunes seek;
But at fourscore, it is too late a week:
Yet fortune cannot recompense me better,
Than to die well, and not my master's debtor.

[Exeunt.

SCENE IV.

The Forest of Arden.

not weary.

Enter Rosalind in boy's clothes, Celia drest like

a Shepherdess, and Touchstone. Ros. O Jupiter! how weary are my spirits! Touch. I care not for my spirits, if my legs were

Ros. I could find in my heart to disgrace my man's apparel, and to cry like a woman: but I must comfort the weaker vessel, as doublet and hose ought to show itself courageous to petticoat: therefore, courage, good Aliena.

Cel. I pray you, bear with me; I cannot go no further.

Touch. For my part, I had rather bear with you, than bear you: yet I should bear no cross, if I did

5

no cross,] A cross was a piece of money stamped with a cross. On this our author is perpetually quibbling.

bear you; for, I think, you have no money in your purse.

Ros. Well, this is the forest of Arden.

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

Ros. Ay, be so, good Touchstone:-Look you, who comes here; a young man, and an old, in solemn talk.

Enter CORIN and SILVIUS. Cor. That is the way to make her scorn you still. Sil. O Corin, that thou knew'st how I do love

her! Cor. I partly guess; for I have lov'd ere now.

Sil. No, Corin, being old, thou canst not guess; Though in thy youth thou wast as true a lover As ever sigh’d upon a midnight pillow: But if thy love were ever like to mine, (As sure I think did never man love so,) How many actions most ridiculous Hast thou been drawn to by thy fantasy?

Cor. Into a thousand that I have forgotten.

Sil. O, thou didst then ne'er love so heartily:
If thou remember'st not the slightest folly
That ever love did make thee run into,
Thou hast not lov'd:
Or if thou hast not sat as I do now,
Wearying thy hearer in thy mistress' praise,
Thou hast not lov'd:
Or if thou hast not broke from company,
Abruptly, as my passion now makes me,
Thou hast not lov'd: O Phebe, Phebe, Phebe!

[Exit Silvius, Ros. Alas, poor shepherd! searching of thy

wound, I have by hard adventure found mine own.

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