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AS YOU LIKE IT.
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
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*
To bring again these foolish runaways.
Come not within these doo
The enemy of all your grac
Your brother-(no, no bro
Yet not the son; I will
Of him I was about to cal
Hath heard your praises ;
To burn the lodging wher
And you within iti if he
He will have other means
I overheard him, and his
This is no place, this hoc
Ablor it, fear it, do not
Orl. Why, wlither,
Adam. No matter wl
Orl. What, would'st
Or, with a base and bo
A thievish living on the
This I must do, or kno
Yet this I will not do
I rather will subject
Of a diverted bloodt
Adam. But do
The thrifty hire I sav
Which I did store, to
When service should
And unregarded age
Take that: and He
Yea, providently ca
Be comfort to my af
All this I give you:
Though I look old,
For in my youth IC
Hot and rebellious
Enter Orlando and Adam, meeting.
Orl. Who's there?
master, 0, my sweet master, O you memory+
Adam. What! my young master?-0, my gentle
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?
be so fond $ to overcome The bony 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 tben 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?
+ Blood turn VOL. II.
• Sink into dejection.
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 sonYet 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 lic, 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, would'st thou have
me go? Adam. No matter wliither, so you come not here. Orl. What, would'st thou have me go and beg my
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 t, and bloody brother.
Adam. But do not so: I have five hundred
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 lanie,
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;
* Mansion, residence.
+ Blood turned from its natural course. VOL. II.
Ros. I could find : man's apparel, and to comfort the weaker ought to show itself fore, courage, good
Cel. I pray you, ther.
Touch. For my pa than bear you: yet bear
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
I'll do the service of a younger man
In all your business and necessities.
Orl. O good old man; how well iv 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 done 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 mauy 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.
Ros. Well, this is
Touch. Ay, nor I; when I was at H travellers must be
Ros. Ay, be swho comes here;
Cor. That is
Sil. O Corin,
Cor. I partly
Sil. No, Cori
Though in thy s
As ever sigh'd
But if thy love
(As sure I thin
How many acti
Hast thou beer
Cor. Into a
Sil. O, thou If thou remem That ever love Thou hast pot Or if thou has Wearying thy
The Forest of Arden.
Enteri 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 not weary.
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: there fore, courage, good Aliena.
Cel. I pray you, bear with me; I can not go no fur. ther.
Touch. 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 parse.
Ros. Well, this is the forest of Arden.
Touch, Ay, now am I iu 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 so. lema talk.
Cor. That is the way to make her scorn you still.
Sil. O Corin, that thou koew'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 vever man love so),
How many actions most ridiculous
Hast thou been drawn to by thy fantasy?
Cor. Into a thousand that I have forgotteo.
Sil. O, thou didst then ne'er love so heartily:
If thou remember'st not the slightest folly
That ever love did inake thee run into,
Thou hast pot 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: 0 Phebe, Phebe, Phebe!
Ros. Alas, poor shepherd! searching of thg
I have by bard adventure found mine own.
Touch. And I mine: I remember, when I was in
love, I broke my sword upon a stone, and bid bim
take that for coming anight* to Jane Smile: and I
remember the kissing of her batlett, and the cow's
dugs that her pretty chop'd 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, said with weeping tears, Wear these for my
sake. 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.
Ros. Thou speak’st wiser, than thou art 'ware of.
Touch. Nay, I shall ne'er be 'ware of mine own
wit, till I break my shins against it.
! i Ros. Jove! Jove! this sheplierd's passion
. Is much upon my fashiou.
Ros. I prythee, she
Can in this desert pla
Bring us where we i
Here's a young maid
And faints for succo
And wish for her sa
My fortunes were
But I am shepherd
And do not sheer
My master is of ch
And little recks
By doing deeds
Besides, his cote,
Are now on sale,
By reason of his =
That you will fec
And in my voice
Ros. What is
ture? Cor. That you
while, That little cares
Ros. I pray te Buy thou the col And thou shalt Cel. And, we
place, And willingly cc 1 Cor. Assured
if The soil, the pre I will your very And buy it with
Touch! And mine; but it grows something stale
W: with me.
Cel. I pray you, one of you question yond man,
If he for gold will give us any food;"
I faint almast to death..
Touch. Holla; you, clown!
Cor. Who calls?
Touch. Your betters, sir.
Cor. Else are they very wretched.
Good even to you, friend.
Cor. And to you, gentle sir, and to you all,
Peace, fool; he's not thy kinsman.
• In the night.
t The instrument with which washers beat clothes.