2 LORD. We did, my lord, weeping and com

menting

Upon the sobbing deer.

DUKE S.

Show me the place;

I love to cope him in these sullen fits,

For then he's full of matter.

2 LORD. I'll bring you to him straight. [Exeunt.

SCENE II.

A Room in the Palace.

Enter Duke FREDERICK, Lords, and Attendants.

DUKE F. Can it be possible, that no man saw them?

It cannot be some villains of my court
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,(8) at whom so oft

Your grace was wont to laugh, is also missing.
Hesperia, the princess' gentlewoman,
Confesses, that she secretly o'er-heard
Your daughter and her cousin much commend
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 him: do this suddenly;
And let not search and inquisition quail 9)
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?-O, my gentle master,

O, my sweet master, O you memory (10)

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 fond to overcome
The bonny priser of the humorous duke?
Your praise is come too swiftly home before 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?

a fond to overcome] i. e. simple, of so little thought, as to, &c. bbonny prizer of the humorous duke] i. e. gallant prize-fighter

of the capricious duke. See I. 2. Le Beau.

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.

a

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 as above. me go ?

ADAM. No matter whither,+ so you come not here. † as above.

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

a

place] i. e. " abiding-place, place of security for you." Plas, says Malone, is in Welch mansion.

b a diverted blood] i. e. affections alienated and turned out of their natural course; as a stream of water is said to be diverted. c And unregarded age in corners thrown] Horace Walpole in his pleasant manner (and very excellent his disengaged epistolary vein frequently is) tells a sour Antiquary, whom he cultivated because he found him useful, May 1774, " When people grow old, as you and I do, they should get together. Others do not care for us but we seem wiser to one another by finding fault with them. Not that I am apt to dislike young folks;

D

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;(11)
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,
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.—

whom I think every thing becomes: but it is a kind of selfdefence to live in a body. I dare to say, that Monks never find out that they grow old Fools. Their age gives them authority, and nobody contradicts them. In the world one cannot help perceiving one is out of fashion." Letters to the Revd. W. Cole, 4to. 1818, p. 99.

a and he that doth the ravens feed, &c.] St. Luke, xii. 6. and 24. DOUCE.

b The constant service of the antique world] i. e. invariably faithful.

Even with the having] i. e. even with the promotion gained by service is service extinguished. JOHNSON.

a

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.

Enter ROSALIND in boy's clothes, CELIA drest like a Shepherdess, and TOUCHSTONE.

Ros. O Jupiter! how merry are my spirits! TOUCH. 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 to cry like a woman: but I must

The fo. of 1632 concurs with that of 1623, and reads "seventy:" but the second line following demonstrates, that it must have been a misprint.

bit is too late a week] i. e. a period of time, indefinitely." The calculation of time by this interval was not then confined, as it is at present, to small contracts or domestic engagements and a fixed period, but embraced a large and indefinite compass and extended to all things.

"To whose heavenly praise

My soule hath bin devoted many a weeke."

Heywood's Britaine's Troy, fo. 1609. p. 251.

It is not every one, that could in aid of the sentiment call in such imagery, as is presented throughout this farewell scene; but who is there, could have put it in such language, and with such a flow and cadence have thrown into it so much feeling and given it so high an interest?

dO Jupiter! how merry are my spirits!

Touch. I care not-if my legs were not weary.

Ros. I could find in my heart to disgrace my man's apparelbut I must comfort the weaker vessel] The modern editors for merry read weary: but Whiter insists, that, from Rosalind's