Page images
PDF
EPUB

2

properly) ftys me here at home, unkept; for call you that keeping for a gentleman of my birth, that differs not from the ftalling of an ox? his horfes are bred better; for befides 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. Befides this Nothing that he fo plentifully gives me, the Something, that Nature gave me, 3 his discountenance feems 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 fervitude. I will no longer endure it, tho' yet. I know no wife remedy how to avoid it.

SCENE II.

Enter Oliver.

Adam. Yonder comes my mafter, your brother. Orla. Go apart Adam, and thou fhalt hear how he will shake me up.

Oli.

but a thousand crowns left him. They agree upon it; and Orlando opens the scene in this manner, As I remember, it was upon this, i. e. for the reafon we have been talking of, that my father left me but a thousand crowns; however, to make amends for this fcanty provifion, he charged my brother on his bleffing to breed me well.

2 STAYS me here at home, unkept ;] We fhould read STYS, i. e. keeps me like a brute. The following words—for call you that keeping that differs not from the falling of an ox, confirm this emendation. So Caliban says,

And here you sTY me in this hard rock.

3 bis COUNTENANCE feems to take from me. ] We should certainly read his DISCOUNTENANCE.

Oli. Now, Sir, what make you here?

Orla. Nothing: I am not taught to make any thing.

Oli. What mar you then, Sir?

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 bettter employ'd, and be nought a while.

Orla. Shall I keep your hogs, and eat husks with them? what Prodigal's portion have I spent, that I fhould come to fuch penury?

Oli. Know you where you are, Sir!

Orla. O, Sir, very well; here in your Orchard. Oli. Know you before whom, Sir?

Orla. Ay, better than he, I am before, knows me. I know, you are my eldeft brother; and in the gentle condition of blood, you should so know me; the courtefie of nations allows you my better, in that you

4

be per

be better employ'd, and be nought a while.] Mr. Theobald has here a very critical note; which, though his modesty fuffered him to withdraw from his fecond edition, deferves to petuated, i. e. (fays he) be better employed, in my opinion, in being and doing nothing. Your idleness as you call it may be an exercife, by which you may make a figure, and endear your felf to the world: and I had rather you were a contemptible Cypher. The poet feems to me to have that trite proverbial fentiment in his eye quoted, from Attilius, by the younger Pliny and others; fatis eft otiofum effe quàm nihil agere. But Oliver in the perverfeness of his difpofition would reverse the doctrine of the proverb. Does the Reader know what all this means? But 'tis no matter. I will affure him-be nought a while is only a north-country proverbial curfe equivalent to, a mischief on you. So the old Poet Skelton,

Correct first thy felfe, walke and BE NOUGHT,
Deeme what thou lift, thou knoweft not my thought.

But what the Oxford Editor could not explain, he would amend, and reads,

-and do aught a while.

U 3

are

are the firft-born; but the fame tradition takes not away my blood, were there twenty brothers betwixt us. I have as much of my father in me, as you; $ albeit, I confefs your coming before me is nearer to his revenue.

Oli. What, boy!

Orla. Come, come, elder brother, you are too 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 Boys; he was my father, and he is thrice a villain, that fays, fuch a father begot villains. Wert thou not my brother, I would not take this hand from thy throat, 'till this other had pull'd out thy tongue for faying fo; thou haft rail'd on thyself. Adam. Sweet masters, be patient; for your father's remembrance, be at accord.

Oli. Let me go, I fay.

Orla. I will not, 'till I pleafe: you fhall hear me. My father charg'd you in his Will to give me good education: you have train'd me up like a peafant, obfcuring and hiding from me all gentleman-like qualities; the Spirit of my father grows ftrong in me, and I will no longer endure it: therefore allow me fuch exercises as may become a gentleman, or give me the poor allottery my father left me by teftament; with that I will go buy my fortunes.

5 albeit, I confess your coming before me is nearer to his REVERENCE.] This is fenfe indeed, and may be thus understood, -The reverence due to my father is, in fome degree, derived to you, as the first-born-But I am perfuaded that Orlando did not here mean to compliment his brother, or condemn himself; fomething of both which there is in that fenfe. I rather think he intended a fatirical reflection on his brother, who by letting bim feed with his hinds treated him as one not so nearly related to old Sir Robert as himself was. I imagine therefore Shakespear might write,- -albeit your coming before me is nearer to his REVENUE, i. though you are no nearer in blood, yet it must be owned, indeed, you are nearer in estate.

Oli. And what wilt thou do? beg, when that is fpent? well, Sir, get you in. I will not long be troubled with you: you fhall have fome part of your will. I pray you, leave me.

Orla. I will no further offend you, than becomes me for my good.

Oli. Get you with him, you old dog.

Adam. Is old dog my reward? moft true, I have loft my teeth in your fervice. God be with my old master, he would not have spoke fuch a word.

[Exeunt Orlando and Adam,

[blocks in formation]

Oli. Is it even fo? begin you to grow upon me? I will phyfick your ranknefs, and yet give no thou fand crowns neither. Holla, Dennis!

Enter Dennis.

Den. Calls your Worship?

Oli. Was not Charles, the Duke's wrestler, here to fpeak with me?

Den. So please you, he is here at the door, and importunes access to you.

Oli. Call him in ;-'twill be a good way; and to morrow the wrestling is.

Enter Charles.

Cha. Good morrow to your Worship.

Oli. Good Monfieur Charles, what's the new news at the new Court?

Cha. There's no news at the Court, Sir, but the old news; that is, the old Duke is banish'd by his younger brother the new Duke, and three or four loving lords have put themselves into voluntary exile with him; whofe lands and revenues enrich the new Duke, therefore he gives them good leave to wander.

U 4

Oli.

Oli. Can you tell, if Rofalind, the Duke's daughter, be banish'd with her father?

Cha. O, no; for the new Duke's daughter her coufin fo 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 lefs 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 fay, 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 fay, many young gentlemen flock to him every day, and fleet the time carelefly, 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, fecretly to underftand, that your younger brother Orlando hath a difpofition to come in difguis'd against me to try a Fall; to morrow, Sir, I wreftle for my credit; and he, that escapes me without fome broken limb, fhall acquit him well. Your brother is but young and tender, and for your love I would be loth to foil him; as I muft for mine own honour, if he come in; therefore out of my love to you, I came hither to acquaint you withal; that either you might ftay him from his intendment, or brook fuch disgrace well as he fhall run into; in that it is a thing of his own search, and altogether against my will.

Oli. Charles, I thank thee for thy love to me, which thou fhalt find, I will moft kindly requite. I had my felf notice of my brother's purpose herein, and have by underhand means laboured to diffuade him from it; but he is refolute. I tell thee, Charles, he is the ftubborneft young fellow of France; full of 6 for the Duke's daughter her coufin] read, the NEW Duke's

« PreviousContinue »