Enter Armado.

Arm. Sweet Majefty, vouchfafe me
Prin. Was not that Hector ?

Dum. That worthy knight of Troy.

Arm. I will kifs thy royal finger, and take leave. I am a votary: I have vow'd to Jaquenetta to hold the plough for her fweet love three years. But, mostefteem'd Greatnefs, will you hear the dialogue that the two learned men have complied, in praise of the owl and the cuckow? it fhould have follow'd in the end of our fhow.

King. Call them forth quickly, we will do fo.
Arm. Holla! approach.-

Enter all, for the fong.

This fide is Hiems, winter.

This Ver, the fpring: The one maintain'd by the owl, The other by the cockow.

Ver, begin.

The SONG.

SPRING.

When daizies pied, and violets blue,
And lady-fmocks all filver-white,
And cuckow-buds of yellow hue,

Do paint the meadows much bedight:
The cuckow then on every tree
Mocks married men; for thus fings he,
Cuckow !

Cuckow! cuckow! O word of fear,
Unpleafing to a married ear!

When Shepherds pipe on oaten ftraws,

And merry larks are ploughmens' clocks:
When turtles tread, and rooks and daws;
And maidens bleach their fummer-fmocks:
The cuckow then on every tree

Mocks married men; for thus fings he,
Cuckow!

Cuckow! cuckow! O word of fear,
Unpleafing to a married car ́!

WINTER.

When icicles hang by the wall,

And Dick the shepherd blows his nail;
And Tom bears logs into the hall,
And milk comes frozen home in pail :
When blood is nipt, and ways be foul,
Then nightly fings the ftaring owl,
Tu-whit! to whoo!

A merry note,

While greafy Jone doth keel pot.

When all aloud the wind doth blow,
And coughing drowns the parfon's far:
And birds fit brooding in the fnow,
And Marian's nofe looks red and raw;
When roafted crabs hifs in the bowl,
Then nightly fings the staring owl,

Tu-whit! to whoo!

A merry note,

While greafy Jone doth keel the pot.

Arm. The words of Mercury

Are harfh after the fongs of Apollo:
You, that way; we, this way.

[Exeunt omnes.

AS

AS YOU LIKE IT.

DUKE.

Amiens,

Jaques,

DRAMATIS PERSONE.

Frederick,brother to the Duke
and ufurper of his dukedom.
Lords attending
upon the Dake in
bis banishment.
Le Beu, a courtier attending
on Frederick.
Oliver, eldest fon to Sir Row-
landde Boys, who had for-
merly been a fervant to the
Duke.
Jaques, younger brothers
Orlando, to Oliver.
Adam, an old fervant of Sir
Rowland de Boys, now fol-
lowing the fortunes of Or-

lando.
Dennis, fervant to Oliver.
Charles, a wrestler, and fer-

The SCENE lies, firft, near Oliver's houfe; and, afterwards, partly in the Duke's court and partly in the foreft of Arden.

Orla.

A C T I. SCENE I.

A

Oliver's orchard.

Enter Orlando and Adam.

SI remember, Adam, it was upon this my father bequeath'd me by will but a poor thousand crowns; and, as thou fay'ft, charged my brother on his bleffing to breed me well; and there begins my fadnefs. My brother Jaques he keeps at fchool, and report fpeaks goldenly of his profit; for my part, he keeps me ruftically at home, or, to fpeak more properly, ftays me here at home, unkept; for call you that keeping for a gentle

VOL. II..

man of my birth, that differs not from the falling 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: bur 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. Fefides this nothing that he fo plentifully gives me, the fomething that nature gave me, his dilcountenance 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 fpirit of my father, which I think is within me, begins to mutiny again't this fervitude. I will no longer endure it, though yet I know no wife remedy how to avoide it.

SCENE II. Enter Oliver.

Adam. Yonder comes my mafter, your brother. Orla. C apart, Adam, and thou fhalt hear how be will fake me up.

Oli. Now, Sir, what make you here?

Orla. Nothing: I am not taught to make any thing. Oli. What mar you then, Sir ?

Orl. Marry, Sir, I am helping you to mar that which God made; a poor unworthy brother of your's with idlenefs..

Oli. Marry, Sir, be better employ'd, and be nought a while.

Orla. Shall I keep your hogs, and eat hufks with them? What prodigal's portion have I fpent, 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 fo know me: the cour tefy of nations allows you my better, in that you are the first-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 fon 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 thyfelf.

Adam. Sweet malters, 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 charge'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 trong 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.

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? most 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.

I

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