To hide us from purfuit that will be made
After my flight: now go we in content
To Liberty, and not to Banifhment.

ACT II.

[Exeunt.

SCENE I.

Arden FOREST.

Enter Duke Senior, Amiens, and two or three Lords like Foresters.

DUKE fenior.

NOW, my co-mates, and brothers in exile,

Hath not old custom made this life more sweet Than That of painted Pomp? are not these woods • More free from peril, than the envious Court? (a) Here feel we but the penalty of Adam, The Seafons' difference; as, the icie phang, And churlish chiding of the winter's wind; • Which, when it bites and blows upon my body, • Even 'till I fhrink with cold, I fmile, and fay, This is no Flattery: these are Counsellors, That feelingly perfuade me what I am, Sweet are the ules of Adverfity,

Which, like the toad, ugly and venomous, • Wears yet a precious jewel in his head:

And this our life, exempt from publick haunt, • Finds tongues in trees, books in the running brooks, • Sermons in ftones, and good in every thing.' Ami. I would not change it; happy is your Grace, That can tranflate the ftubbornness of fortune Into fo quiet and fo fweet a ftyle,

[(a) Here feel we but. Mr. Theobald-Vulg. Here feel awe not. ]

Duke.

Duke Sen. Come, fhall we go and kill us venifon! And yet it irks me, the poor dappled fools,

Being native burghers of this defart city,

Should, in their own Confines, with forked heads
Have their round haunches goar'd.

I Lord. Indeed, my Lord,

The melancholy Jaques grieves at that;
And in that kind fwears you do more ufurp
Than doth your brother, that hath banish'd you:
To day my Lord of Amiens, and my self,
Did fteal behind him, as he lay along

Under an oak, whofe antique root peeps out
Upon the brook that brawls along this wood;
To the which place a poor fequeftred stag,
That from the hunters' aim had ta'en a hurt,
Did come to languifh; and, indeed, my lord,
The wretched Animal heav'd forth fuch groans
That their discharge did stretch his leathern coat
Almost to bursting; and the big round tears
Cours'd one another down his innocent nose
In piteous chase; and thus the hairy fool,
Much marked of the melancholy Jaques,
Stood on th' extremeft verge of the swift brook,
Augmenting it with tears.

Duke Sen. But what faid Jaques?
Did he not moralize this fpectacle?

1 Lord. O yes, into a thousand fimilies.
Firft, for his weeping in the needless stream;
Poor Deer, quoth he, thou mak'ft a testament
As worldlings do, giving thy fum of more
To that which had too much. Then being alone,
Left and abandon'd of his velvet friends;
'Tis right, quoth he, thus mifery doth part
The flux of company: anon a careless herd,
Full of the pasture, jumps along by him,
And never ftays to greet him: ay, quoth Jaques,
Sweep on, you fat and greafie citizens,

'Tis

'Tis just the fashion: wherefore do you look
Upon that poor and broken bankrupt there?
Thus molt invectively he pierceth through
The body of the Country, City, Court,
Yea, and of this our life; fwearing, that we
Are meer ufurpers, tyrants, and what's worse,
To fright the animals, and to kill them up
In their affign'd and native dwelling place.

Duke Sen. And did you leave him in this contemplation?

2 Lord. We did, my Lord, weeping and commenting

Upon the fobbing deer.

Duke Sen. Show me the place;

I love to cope him in these fullen fits.
For then he's full of matter.

2 Lord. I'll bring you to him ftraight.

[Exeunt.

II.

Enter Duke Frederick with Lords.

AN it be poffible, that no man faw them?

Duke. CAN

It cannot be; fome villains of my Court Are of consent and fufferance in this.

I Lord. I cannot hear of any that did fee her.
The ladies, her attendants of her chamber,
Saw her a-bed, and in the morning early

They found the bed untreafur'd of their mistress.
2 Lord. My Lord, the roynifh Clown at whom
fo oft

Your Grace was wont to laugh, is alfo miffing:
Hefperia, the Princefs' Gentlewoman,
Confeffes, that she fecretly o'er-heard

Your Daughter and her Cousin much commend

The

The parts and graces

of the Wreftler,

That did but lately foil the finewy Charles;
And the believes, where ever they are gone,
That Youth is furely in their company.

Duke. 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 fuddenly;
And let not Search and Inquifition quail
To bring again these foolish runaways.

Orla.WHO's there?

Exeunt.

Adam. What! my young mafter? oh,

my gentle mafter,

Oh, my fweet mafter, O you memory

Of old Sir Rowland! why, what make you here?
Why are you virtuous? why do people love you?
And wherefore are you gentle, ftrong, and valiant?
Why would you be fo fond to overcome

The boney Prifer of the humorous Duke?
Your Praife is come too fwiftly home before you.
Know you not, mafter, to fome kind of men
Their graces ferve them but as enemies?
No more do yours; your virtues, gentle mafter,
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 thefe doors; within this roof

1 The BONNY Prifer] We should read BONEY Prifer. For this wrestler is characterifed for his ftrength and bulk, not for his gayety or good-humour,

The

The enemy of all your graces lives:

Your brother-(no; no brother; yet the son, -
Yet not the fon; 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,
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, fo you come not here. Orla. What, wouldst thou have me go and beg my food?

Or with a base, and boisterous fword enforce.

A thievifh living on the common road?
This I muft do, or know not what to do:
Yet this I will not do, do how I can;

I rather will fubject 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 fav'd under your father,

• Which I did store, to be my foster-nurse
• When fervice fhould 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 fparrow,
Be comfort to my age! here is the gold,
• All this I give you, let me be your fervant;
Tho' I look old, yet I am ftrong and lufty;
For in my youth I never did apply
• Hot and rebellious liquors in my blood;
• Nor did I with unbafhful forehead woo
The means of weakness and debility;
Therefore my age is as a lufty winter,

• Frosty,