תמונות בעמוד


No more do yours; your virtues, gentle master,
Are fanctified and holy traitors to you.
Oh, what a world is this, when what is comely
Envenoms him that bears it!

Orla. 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 fon
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,

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, wouldAt thou have me go?
Adam. No matter whither, so you come not here.

Orla.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 subject me to the malice
Of a diverted blood, and bloody brother.

Adam. But do not fo; 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 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


Tho’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 I with unbathful forehead woo
Voli II.



The means of weakness and debility :
Therefore my age is as a lusty winter,
Frofcy, but kindly ; let me go with you;
l'll do the service of a younger man
In all your business and neceslities.
Orla. Oh! good old man, how well in thee

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


SCENE changes to the Forest of Arden. Enter Rosalind in Boys cloaths for Ganymed, Celia drejt

like a Shepherdess for Aliena, and Clown. Rol Oyuterineri care not for my spirits, if my legs were not weary:

Ro. (11) O Jupiter !. bow merry are my Spirits ?] And yet, within thespace of one intervening line, she says, the could find in her heart to disgrace her man's apparel, and cry like a woman. Sure, this is but a very bad symptom of the briskness of spirits: rather, a direct proof of


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 fhew itself courageous to petticoat; therefore, courage, good Aliena.

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.

Rof. Well, this is the forest of Arden.

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

Rof. Ay, be fo, good Touchstone : look you, who comes here; a young man and an old in folemn talk.

Enter Corin and Silvius.


Cor. That is the way to make her scorn

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 can'st not guess,
Tho' in thy youth thou wast as true a lover,
As ever figh'd upon a midnight pillow;
But if thy love were ever like to mine,
(As, sure, I think, did never man love fo)
How many actions most ridiculous
Haft thou been drawn to by thy fantasy?

Cor. Into a thousand that I have forgotten.

Sil. O, thou didst then ne'er love fo heartily; If thou remember’st not the flightest folly, That ever love did make thee run into; Thou hast not loy’d. Or if thou hast not fate as I do now, Wearying the 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 ; the contrary disposition. Mr. Warburton and I, both, concurrid in conjecouring it should be, as I have reform'd it in the text, bow die my spirits?


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Thou haft not lov'd.
O Phebe, Phebe, Phebe!

(Exit. Sil. Ros. Alas, poor shepherd ! searching of thy wound, I have by hard adventure found my 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 coming a-nights to Jane Smile; and I remember the kifling of her batlet, and her cow's dugs that her pretty chopt hands had milk'd ; and I remember the wooing of a peascod instead of her, from whom I took two cods, and giving her them again, faid with weeping tears, wear thee for my fake. We, that are true lovers, run into strange capers; but as all is mortal in nature, so is all nature in love mortal in folly.

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

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

Rof. Jove! Jove! this shepherd's passion is much upon my

Clo. And mine, but it grows something stale with me.

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

Clo. Holla ; you, Clown !
Rof. Peace, fool; he's not thy kinsman.
Cor. Who calls ?
Clo. Your betters, Sir.
Cor. Else they are very wretched.
Rof. Peace, I say; good even to you, friend.
Cor. And to you, gentle Sir, and to you

Rof. I pr’ythee, Mepherd, if that love or gold
Can in this desart place buy entertainment,
Bring us where we may rest ourselves, and feed ;
Here's a young maid with travel much oppress'd,
And faints for succour.

Cor. Fair Sir, I pity her,
And with, for her sake more than for my own,
My fortunes were more able to relieve her;
But I am shepherd to another man,
And do not iheer the fleeces that I graze ;


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My master is of churlish disposition,
And little wreaks to find the way to heav'n
By doing deeds of hospitality :
Besides, his coate, his focks, and bounds of feed
Are now on sale, and at our sheep-coate now,
By reason of his absence, there is nothing
will feed on;

but what is, come see ;
And in my voice most welcome shall you be.

Rof. What is he, that shall buy his flock and pasture ? .

Cor. That young swain, thatyou saw here but ere while,
That little cares for buying any thing.

Rof. I pray thee, if it stand with honesty,
Buy thou the cottage, pasture, and the flock,
And thou shalt have to pay for it of us.

Cel. And we will mend thy wages.
Il ke this place, and willingly could waste
My time in it.

Cor. Assuredly the thing is to be sold ;
Go with me; if you like, upon report,
The soil, the profit, and this kind of life,
I will your very faithful feeder be ;
And buy it with your gold right suddenly. [Exeunt.

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SCEN E changes to a desart Part of the


Enter Amiens, Jaques, and others.

Under the green-wood tree,
Who loves to lie with me,
And tune his merry note,
Unto the sweet bird's throat,
Come hither, come hither, come hither :

Here shall he see

No enemy,

But winter and rough weather.
Jaq. More, more, I pr’ythee, more.

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