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Orla. Why, what's the matter?

Adam. O unhappy youth, Comę not within these doors; within this roof The enemy of all your graces lives : Your brother-(no, no brother ; yet the sonYet not the son ;-I will not call him sonOf 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. Orla. Why, whither, Adam, wouldst thou have

me go ? Adam. No matter whither, so you come not here. Orla. What, wouldst thou have me go and beg my

i 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 subject me to the malice

130 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 my foster-nurse, When service should in my old limbs lie lame, And unregarded age in corners thrown;

Take

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 lustý :
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. Orla. Oh good old man! how well in thee ap. pears

150
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 choak their service up
Even with the having : it is not so with thee.
But, poor

old man, thou prunost a rotten tree,
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 ;

160 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 Diij

Here

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 recompence me better,
Than to die well, and not my master's debtor. 170

[Exeunt.

SCENE IV.

The Forest of Arden. Enter ROSALIND in Boy's Clothes
for Ganimed; Celia drest like a Shepherdess for
Aliena, and TouchSTONE the Clown.
Ros. O Jupiter ! how weary are my spirits !

Clo. I care not for my spirits, if my legs were not weary.

Ros. I could find in my heart to disgrace my man's apparel, and 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 Alieną.

178 Cel. I pray you, bear with me; I can go no further.

Clo. For my part, I had rather bear with you, than bear you : yet I should bear no cross, if I did bear you; for, I think you have no money in your purse,

Ros. Well, this is the forest of Arden.

Clo. 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.

189

200

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,

Šil. 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 loy'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 :-Oh Phebe, Phebe, Phebe!

[ Exit Silvius. Ros. Alas, poor shepherd ! searching of thy wound, I have by hard adventure found mine own.

Clo. And I mine : I remember, when I was in love, I broke my sword upon a stone, and bid him take that

for

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for coming o'nights to Jane Smile: and I remember the kissing of her batlet, and the cow's dugs that her pretty chop'd hands had milk d: and I remember the wooing of a peascod instead of lier; from whoin I took two cods, and, giving her them again, said with weeping tears, Wear these for my sake. We, that are true lovers, run into strange capers, but as all iş mortal in nature, so is all nature in lovè mortal in folly.

223 Ros. Thou speak'st wiser, than thou art 'ware of.

Clo. Nay, I shall ne'er be aware of miné own wit, 'till I break my shins against it.

Ros. Jove! Jovel this shepherd's passion is much

ppon my fashion.

Clo. And mine; büç it grows something stale with

me.

Cel. I pray you, one of you question yon man, 230
If he for gold will give us any food;
I faint almost to death.

Clo. Holla! you, clown!
Ros. Peace, fool; he's not thy kinsinan.
Cor. Who calls ?
Clo. Your betters, sir.
Cor. Else they are very wretched.
Ros. Peace, I say : Good even to you, friend.
Cor. And to you, gentle sir, and to you all.

Ros. I prythee, shepherd, if that love, or gold,
Can in this desert place buy entertainment, 241
Bring us where we may rest ourselves, and feed :
Here's a young maid with travel much oppressid,

And

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