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feed with his hinds, bars me the place of a brother, and, as much as in him lies, mines my gentility with

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 wise remedy how to avoid it.

Enter Oliver.
Adam. Yonder comes my master, your brother.

Orla. Go apart, Adam, and thou shalt hear how he will shake 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?

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 better 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 should come to such 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 eldest brother; and in the gentle condition of blood, you should so know me; the courtefie of nations allows you my better, in that you are the first born; but the same 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 confess your coming before me is nearer to his reve

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 says, such a father begot villains. Wert thou not my brother, I would not take this hand from thy throat, 'till this other had pulld out thy tongue for saying fo; thou hast raild on thy self.

Adam. Sweet masters, be patient; for your father's remembrance, be at accord.

Oli. Let me go, I say.

Orla. I will not, 'till I please : you shall hear me. My father charg'd you in his Will to give me good education: you have train’d me up like a peasant, obfcuring and hiding from me all gentleman-like qualities ; the Spirit my


grows strong in me, and I will no longer endure it: therefore allow me such exercises as may become a gentleman, or give me the poor allottery my father left me by teftament; with that I will

go my

fortunes. Oli. And what wilt thou do? beg, when that is spent? well, Sir, get you in. I will not long be troubled with you: you shall have some

part of 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 lost my teeth in your service. God be with my old master, he would not have spoke such a word.

[Exe. Orlando and Adam. Oli Is it even so ? begin you to grow upon me! I will phyfick your rankness, and yet give no thousand crowns neither. Holla, Dennis!

Enter Dennis, Den. Calls your Worship?

Oli. Was not Charles, the Duke's Wrestler, here to speak 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.


your will.

M 2

Enter Charles,

Cha. Good morrow to your Worship.

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

Char. 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; whose lands and revenues enrich the new Duke, therefore he gives them good leave to wander.

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

Cha. O, no; for the Duke's daughter her cousin so 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 less 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 say, 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 say, many young gentlemen flock to him every day, and fleet the time carelesly, 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, secretly to underRand, that your younger brother Orlando hath a difposition to come in disguis'd against me to try a Fall ; to morrow, Sir, I wrestle for my credit; and he, that escapes me without some broken limb, shall acquit him well. Your brother is but young and tender, and for your love I would be loth to foil him ; as I must for mine own honour, if he come in ; therefore out of my love to you, I came hitner to acquaint you withal ; that either you might stay him from his intendment, or brook such disgrace well as he shall 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 shalt find, I will most kindly requite. I had my self notice of my brother's purpose herein, and have by under-hand means laboured to dissuade him from it; but he is resolute. I tell thee, Charles, he is the itubbornest young fellow of France ; full of ambition, an envious emulator of every man's good parts, a secret and villanous contriver against me his natural brother ; therefore use thy discretion; I had as lief thou didit break his neck, as his finger. And thou wert best look to't ; for if thou dost him any flight disgrace, or if he do not mightily grace himself on thee, he will practise against thee by poison ; entrap thee by some treacherous device ; and never leave thee, 'till he hath ta'en thy life by some indirect means or other ; for I assure thee, (and almost with tears I speak it) there is not one fo young and co villanous this day living. I speak but brohe is, I must blush and weep, and thou must look pale and wonder.

Cha. I am heartily glad, I came hither to you: if he come to morrow, I'll give him his payment; if ever he go alone again, I'll never wrestle for prize more; and fo, God keep your Worship.

[Exit. Oli. Farewel, good Charles. Now will I ftir this gamefter: I hope, I shall see an end of him ; for my Soul, yet I know not why, hates nothing more than he. Yet he's gentle; never school'd, and yet learned ; full of noble device, of all Sorts enchantingly beloved ; and, indeed, so much in the heart of the world, and especially of my own people who best know him, that I am altogether misprised. But it shall not be fo, long; this wrestler shall clear all ; nothing remains, but that I kindle the boy thither, which now I'll go about.



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SCENE changes to an Open Walk, before the

Duke's Palace.

Enter Rosalind and Celia.

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Pray thee, Rosalind, sweet

my coz, be

merry. Ros. Dear Celia, I show more mirth than I am mistress of; and would you yet I were merrier ? unless you could teach me to forget a banish'd father, you must not learn me how to remember any extraordinary pleasure.

Cel. Herein, I fee, thou lov'st me not with the full weight that I love thee. If my uncle, thy banished father, had banished thy uncle the Duke, my father, so thou hadft been still with me, I could have taught my love to take thy father for mine ; fo would'st thou, if the truth of thy love to me were so righteously temper’d, as mine is to thee.

BC W-11, forgro-har-condition of my eftate, to rejoice in yours,

Cel. You know, my father hath no child but I, nor none is like to have; and, truly, when he dies, thou fhalt be his heir ; for what he hath taken away from thy father perforce, I will render thee again in affection ; by mine Honour, I will; and when I break that oath, let me turn monster : therefore, my sweet Rose, my dear Rose, be merry.

Ros. From henceforth I will, coz, and devise Sports : let me see, what think you of falling in love?

Cel. Marry, I prythee, do, to make sport withal ; but love no man in good earnest, nor no further in sport neither, than with safety of a pure blush thou may'it in honour come off again.

Ros. What shall be our Sport then ?

. Let us fit and mock the good housewife Fortune from her wheel, that her gifts may henceforth be beftowed equally,

Rof. I would, we could do so; for her benefits are mightily misplaced, and the bountiful blind woman doth molt mistake in her gifts to women.


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