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tament; with that I will go buy my fortunes. and have by underhand means laboured to dissuade

Oli. And what wilt thou do? beg, when that is him from it; but he is resolute. I'll tell thee, spent? Well, sir, get you in : I will not long be|| Charles,-it is the stubbornest young fellow of troubled with you: you shall have some part of France; full of ambition, an envious emulator of your will: I pray you, leave me.

every man's good parts, a secret and villanous Orl. I will no further offend you than becomes contriver against me his natural brother; thereme for my good.

fore use thy discretion ; I had as lief thou didst Oli. Get you with bim, you old dog.

break his neck as his finger: And thou wert best Adam. Is old dog my reward? Most true, I look to't; for if thou dost him any slight disgrace, have lost my teeth in your service.—God be with or if he do not mightily grace himself on thee, he my old master, he would not have spoke such a will practise against thee by poison, entrap thee by word.

(Exeunt Orlando and Adam.some treacherous device, and never leave thee till Oli

. Is it even so ? begin you to grow upon me? he hath ta'en thy life by some indirect means or I will physic your rankness, and yet give no thou- other: for, I assure thee, and almost with tears I sand crowns neither.-Holla, Dennis !

speak it, there is not one so young and so villanous Enter Dennis.

this day living. I speak but brotherly of him;

but should I anatomize him to thee as he is, I Den. Calls your worship?

must blush and weep, and thou must look pale Oli. Was not Charles, the Duke's wrestler, here and wonder. to speak with me?

Cha. I am heartily glad I came hither to you: Den. So please you, he is here at the door, and If he come to-morrow, I'll give him his payment : importunes access to you.

If ever he go alone again, I'll never wrestle for Oli. Call him in. (Exit Dennis.)—-'Twill be a prize more: And so, God keep your worship! good way; and to-morrow the wrestling is.

[Exit. Enter Charles.

Oli. Farewell, good Charles. —Now will I stir

this gamester :2 I hope, I shall see an end of him; Cha. Good morrow to your worship.

for my soul, yet I know not why, hates nothing Oli. Good monsieur Charles ! what's the new more than he. Yet he's gentle; never schoolid, news at the new court?

and yet learned ; full of noble device; of all sorts3 Cha. There's no news at the court, sir, but the enchantingly beloved; and, indeed, so much in old news: that is, the old duke is banished by his || the heart of the world, and especially of my own younger brother the new duke ; and three or four || people, who best know him, that I am altogether loving lords have put themselves into voluntary misprized: but it shall not be so long; this wrestler exile with him, whose lands and revenues enrich || shall clear all: nothing remains, but that I kindle the new duke; therefore he gives them good leave the boy thither, which now I'll go about. (Ezit. to wander. Oli

. Can you tell, if Rosalind, the duke's daughter, SCENE II.-A lawn before the Duke's palace. be banished with her father?

Enter Rosalind and Celia. Cha. O, no; for the duke's daughter, her cousin, Cel. I pray thee, Rosalind, sweet my coz, be so loves her,-being ever from their cradles bred merry. together,—that she would have followed her exile, Rós. Dear Celia, I show more mirth than I am or have died to stay behind her. She is at the mistress of ; and would you yet I were merrier ? court, and no less beloved of her uncle than bis Unless you could teach me to forget a banished own daughter; and never two ladies loved as father, you must not learn me how to remember any they do.

extraordinary pleasure. Oli. Where will the old duke live?

Cel. Herein, I see, thou lovest me not with the Cha. They say, he is already in the forest of ||full weight that I love thee: if my uncle, thy banArden, and a many merry men with him; and ished father, had banished thy uncle, the duke my there they live like the old Robin Hood of England: | father, so thou hadst been still with me, I could they say, many young gentlemen flock to him every || have taught my love to take thy father for mine ; day; and fleet the time carelessly, as they did in | so would'st thou, if the truth of thy love to me the golden world.

were so righteously temper'd as mine is to thee. Oli. What, you wrestle to-morrow before the Ros. Well, I will forget the condition of my esnew duke?

tate, to rejoice in yours. Cha. Marry, do I, sir; and I came to acquaint Cel. You know,

my father hath no child but I, you with a matter. I am given, sir, secretly to| nor none is like to have; and, truly, when he dies, understand, that your younger brother, Orlando, thou shalt be his heir: for what he hath taken hath a disposition to come in disguis’d against me away from thy father perforce, I will render thee to try a fall : To-morrow, sir, 1 wrestle for my again in affection ; by mine honour, I will; and credit: and he that escapes me without some broken when I break that oath, let me turn monster: therelimb shall acquit him well. Your brother is but fore, my sweet Rose, my dear Rose, be merry. young, and tender; and, for your love, I would be Ros. From henceforth I will, coz, and devise loath to foil him, as I must, for my own honour, if | sports : let me see; What think you of falling in he come in : therefore, out of my love to you, I love ? came hither to acquaint you withal; that either you Cel. Marry, I prythee, do, to make sport withal : might stay him from his intendment, or brook but love no man in good earnest ; nor no further in such disgrace well as he shall run into; in that it sport neither, than with safety of a pure blush thou is a thing of his own search, and altogether against nay'st in honour come off again. iny will.

Ros. What shall be our sport then? Oli. Charles, I thank thee for thy love to me, Cel. Let us sit and mock the good housewife, which thou shalt find I will most kindly requite. i Fortune,

from her wheel, that her gifts may hencehad myself notice of my brother's purpose herein, forth be bestowed equally. (1) A ready assent. (2) Frolicksome fellow.

(3) Of all ranks.

Scent II.

Ras. I would, we could do so; for her benefits Ros. As wit and fortune will.
are mightily misplaced : and the bountiful blind Touch. Or as the destinies decree.
woman doth most mistake in her gifts to women. Cel. Well said ; that was laid on with a trowel

Cel. 'Tis true : for those, that she makes fair, sbe Touch. Nay, if I keep not my rank,-
scarce makes honest; and those, that she makes Ros. Thou losest thy old smell.
honest, she makes very ill-favour'dly.

Le Beau. You amaze me, ladies : I would have
Ros. Nay, now thou goest from fortune's office told you of good wrestling, which you have lost the
to nature's: fortune reigns in gifts of the world,|| sight of.
not in the lineaments of nature.

Ros. Yet tell us the manner of the wrestling.
Enter Touchstone.

Le Beau. I will tell you the beginning, and, if it
Cal. No? When nature hath made a fair crea- || best is yet to do; and here, where you are, they

please your lady ships, you may see the end; for the ture, may she not by fortune fall into the fire ?- || are coming to perform it. Though nature hath given us wit to flout at fortune,

Cel. Well,--the beginning, that is dead and hath not fortune sent in this fool to cut off the ar- | buried. gument ?

Le Beau. There comes an old man, and his Ros. Indeed, there is fortune too hard for na- three sons, ture; when fortune makes nature's natural the cut

Ce! I could match this beginning with an old tale. ter off of nature's wit. Ceh Peradveuture, this is not fortune's work lent growth and presence ;

Le Beau. Three proper young men, of excelneither, but nature's; who perceiving our natural Ros. With bills on their necks,-Be it known wits too dull to reason of such goddesses, hath sent unto all men by these presents. this natural for our wbetstone: for always the dull- Le Beau. The eldest of the three wrestled with ness of the fool is the whetstone of his wits.-How | Charles, the duke's wrestler; which Charles in a now, wit? whither wander you?

moment threw him, and broke three of his ribs, Touch. Mistress, you must come away to your that there is little hope of life in him : so he served father.

the second, and so the third : Yonder they lie ; the Cel. Were you made the messenger? poor old man, their father, making such pitiful

Touch. No, by mine honour; but I was bid to dole over them, that all the beholders take his part come for you.

with weeping: Ros. Where learned you that oath, fool?

Ros. Alas! Touch. Of a certain knight, that swore by his Touch. But what is the sport, monsieur, that honour they were good pancakes, and swore by his the ladies have lost? honour the mustard was naught: now, I'll stand to Le Beau. Why, this that I speak of. it, the pancakes were naught, and the mustard was Touch. Thus men may grow wiser every day! good ; and yet was not the knight forsworn. it is the first time that ever I heard, breaking of

Cel. How prove you that, in the great heap of || ribs was sport for ladies. your knowledge ?

Cel. Or I, I promise thee. Ros. Ay, marry; now unmuzzle your wisdom.

Ros. But is there any else longs to see this broken Touch. Stand you both forth now : stroke your music in his sides? is there yet another dotes upon chins, and swear by your beards that I am a knave. | rib-breaking ?-Shall we see this wrestling, cousin ? Cel. By our beards, if we had them, thou art.

Le Beau. You must, if you stay here ; for here Touch. By my knavery, if I had it, then I were : || is the place appointed for the wrestling, and they but if you swear by that that is not, you are not are ready to perform it. forsworn : no more was this knight, swearing by his Cel. Yonder, sure, they are coming : Let us now honour, for he never had any; or if he had, he had


and see it. sworn it away, before ever he saw those pancakes or that mustard.

Flourish. Enter Duke Frederick, Lords, OrlanCel. Prythee, who is't that thou mean'st?

do, Charles, and attendants. Touch. One that old Frederick, your father, loves. Duke F. Come on; since the youth will not be

Cel. My father's love is enough to honour him.- entreated, his own peril on his forwardness. Enough! speak no more of him : you'll be whipp'd Ros. Is yonder the man? for taxation, one of these days.

Le Beau. Even he, madam. Touch. The more pity, that fools may not speak Cel. Alas, he is too young: yet he looks sucwisely, what wise men do foolishly.

cessfully. Cel. By my troth, thou say'st true : for since the Duke F. How now, daughter, and cousin ? are little wit, that fools have, was silenced, the little you crept hither to see the wrestling? foolery, that wise men have, makes a great show.

Ros. Ay, my liege? so please you give us leave. Here comes monsieur Le Beau.

Duke Ě You will take little delight in it, I can Enter Le Beau.

tell you, there is such odds in the men : In pity of Ros. With his mouth full of news.

the challenger's youth, I would fain dissuade him, Çel. Which he will put on us, as pigeons feed but he will not be entreated : Speak to him, ladies

you can move him. Ros. Then shall we be news-cramm'd.

Cel. Call him hither, good monsieur Le Beau. Cel. All the better ; we shall be the more mar

Duke F. Do so ; I'll not be by. kelable. Bon jour, monsieur Le Beau : What's

(Duke goes apart. the news?

Le Beau. Monsieur the challenger, the prinLe Beau. Fair princess, you have lost much cesses call for you. good sport

Orl. I attend them, with all respect and duty: Cel. Of what colour?

Ros. Young man, have you challenged Charles Le Beau. What colour, madam? How shall I

the wrestler answer you?

Orl. No, fair princess ; he is the general chal.

lenger: I come but in, as others do, to try with (1) Satire.

(2) Perplex, confuse. him the strength of my youth.


their young.


you go, coz?

Cel. Young gentleman, your spirits are too bold, I should have given him tears unto entreaties, for your years : You have seen cruel proof of this Ere he should ihus have ventur'd. man's strength: if you saw yourself with your eyes, Cel.

Gentle cousin, or knew yourself with your judgment, the fear | Let us go thank him, and encourage him : of your adventure would counsel you to a more My father's rough and envious disposition equal enterprise. We pray you," for your own | Sticks me at heart.—Sir, you have well deserv'd: sake, to enibrace your own safety, and give over|lf you do keep your promises in love, this attempt

But justly, as you have exceeded promise, Ros. Do, young sir; your reputation shall not Your mistress shall be happy. therefore be misprized: we will make it our suit Ros.

Gentleman, the duke, that the wrestling might not go forward.

(Giving him a chain from her neck. Orl. I beseech you, punish me not with your Wear this for me ; one out of suits with fortune ;2 hard thoughts; wherein I confess me much guilty, || That could give more, but that her hand lacks to deny so fair and excellent ladies any thing. But let your fair eyes, and gentle wishes, go with me Shall we go, coz? to my trial : wherein if I be foiled, there is but Cel. Ay :-Fare you well, fair gentleman. one shamed that was never gracious; if killed, but Orl. Can I not say, I thank you? My better parts one dead that is willing to be so: I shall do my Are all thrown down; and that which here stands up, friends no wrong, for I have none to lament me; || Is but a quintain,3 a mere lifeless block. the world no injury, for in it I have nothing; only Ros. He calls us back : My pride fell with my in the world I fill up a place, which may be better

fortunes : supplied when I have made it empty.

I'll ask him what he would :-Did you call, sir?Ros. The little strength that I have, I would it | Sir, you have wrestled well, and overthrown were with you.

More than your enemies. Cel. And mine, to eke out hers.


Will Ros. Fare you well. Pray heaven, I be de- Ros. Have with you :-Fare you well. ceived in you!

(Ereunt Rosalind and Celia. Cel. Your heart's desires be with you !

Orl. What passion hangs these weights upon Cha. Come, where is this young gallant, that is

my tongue ? so desirous to lie with his mother earth?

I cannot speak to her, yet she urg'd conference. Orl. Ready, sir; but his will hath in it a more modest working.

Re-enter Le Beau. Duke F. You shall try but one fall.

O poor Orlando! thou art overthrown; Cha. No, I warrant your grace; you shall not Or Charles, or something weaker, masters thee. entreat him to a second, that have so mightily per- Le Beau. Good sir, I do in friendship counsel you suaded him from a first.

To leave this place : Albeit you have deserv'd Orl. You mean to mock me after; you should || High commendation, true applause, and love; not have mocked me before : but come your ways. Yet such is now the duke's condition,

Ros. Now, Hercules be thy speed, young man! || That he inisconstrues all that you have done.

Cel. I would I were invisible, io catch the strong The duke is humorous; what he is, indeed, fellow by the leg. (Charles and Orlando wrestle. More suits you to conceive, than me to speak of. Ros. O excellent young man!

Orl. I thank you, sir: and, pray you, tell me this; Cel. If I had a thunderbolt in mine eye, 1 Which of the two was daughter of the duke tell who should down. (Charles is thrown. Shout. ||That here was at the wrestling? Duke F No more, no more.

Le Beau. Neither his daughter, if we judge by Orl. Yes, I beseech your grace; I am not yet

manners, well breathed.

But yet, indeed, the shorter is his daughter: Duke F. How dost thou, Charles ?

The other is daughter to the banish'd duke, Le Beau. He cannot speak, my lord.

And here detain'd by her usurping uncle, Duke F. Bear him away. (Charles is borne out.) || To keep his daughter company; whose loves What is thy name young mait?

Are dearer than the natural bond of sisters. Orl. Orlando, my liege; the youngest son of But I can tell you, that of late this duke sir Rowland de Bois.

Hath ta'en displeasure 'gainst his gentle niece; Duke F. I would, thou hadst been son to some Grounded upon no other argument, man else.

But that the people praise her for her virtues, The world esteem'd thy father honourable, And pity her for her good father's sake; But I did find bim still mine enemy :

And, on iny life, his malice 'gainst the lady Thou should'st have better pleasd me with this will suddenly break forth.—Sir, fare you well; deed,

Hereafter, in a better world than this, Hadst thou descended from another house. I shall desire more love and knowledge of you. But fare thee well; thou art a gallant youth ; Orl. I rest much bounden to you; fare you well! I would, thou hadst told me of another father.

(Erit Le Beau. (Exeunt Duke Fred, train, and Le Beau. Thus must I from the smoke into the smother: Cel. Were I my father, coz, would I do this? From tyrant duke, unto a tyrant brother :Orl. I am more proud to be sir Rowland's son, But heavenly Rosalind !

(Erit. His youngest son ;-and would not change that calling,

SCENE III.-A room in the palace. Enter To be adopted heir to Frederick.

Celia and Rosalind. Ros. My father lov'd sir Rowland as his soul, Cel. Why, cousin ; why, Rosalind ;-Cupid have And all the world was of my father's mind :

mercy !-Not a word ? Had I before known this young man his son, Ros. Not one to throw at a dog.

Cel. No, thy words are too precious to be cast (1) Appellation. (2) Turned out of her service. (3) The object to dart at in martial exercises.

(4) Temper, disposition.



away upon curs, throw some of them at me; come, Cel. I did not then entreat to have her stay, lame me with reasons.

It was your pleasure, and your own remorse? Ros. Then there were two cousins laid up; || I was too young that time to value her, when the one should be lamed with reasons, and | But now I know her: if she be a traitor, the other mad without any.

Why so am I; we still have slept together, Cel. But is all this for your father?

Rose at an instant, learn'd, play'd, eat together; Ros. No, some of it for my child's father : 0,|| And wheresoe'er we went, like Juno's swans, how full of briers is this working-day world! Sull we went coupled, and inseparable.

Cel. They are but burs, cousin, thrown upon Duke F. She is too subtle for thee; and her thee in holiday foolery; if we walk not in the

smoothness, trodden paths, our very petticoats will catch them. Her very silence, and her patience,

Ros. I could shake them off my coat; these burs | Speak to the people, and they pity her. are in my heart.

Thou art a fool : she robs thee of thy name ; Cd. Hem them away.

And thou wilt show more bright, and seem more Ros. I would try; if I could cry bem, and have virtuous, himn.

When she is gone: then open not thy lips; Cel. Come, come, wrestle with thy affections. Firm and irrevocable is my doom

Ros. O, they take the part of a better wrestler Which I have pass'd upon her; she is banish'd. than myself.

Cel. Pronounce that sentence then on me, my Cel. O, a good wish upon you! you will try in liege ; time, in despite of a fall. --Bút, turning these jests I cannot live out of her company. out of service, let us talk in good carnest: Is it Duke F. You are a fool - You, niece, provide possible, on such a sudden, you should fall into so yourself; strong a liking with old sir Rowland's youngest son?|| If you out-stay the time, upon mine honour,

Ros. The duke my father lov'd his father dearly. And in the greatness of my word, you die.
Cel. Doth it therefore ensue, that you should

(Exeunt Duke Frederick and lords. love his son dearly? By this kind of chase, I should Cel. O my poor Rosalind! whither wilt thou go? hate him, for my father hated his father dearly ;'Wilt thou change fathers? I will give thee mine. yet I hate not Orlando.

I charge thee, be not thou more griev'd than I am. Ros. No, 'faith, hate him not, for my sake.

Ros. I have more cause. Cel. Why should I not? doth he not deserve well? Cel.

Thou hast not, cousin; Ros. Let me love him for that; and do you love Pr'ythee, be cheerful : know'st thou not, the duke him, because I do :-Look, here comes the duke. Hath banish'd me his daughter? Cel. With his eyes full of anger.


That he hath not.

Cel. No? hath not? Rosalind lacks then the love Enter Duke Frederick, with lords.

Which teacheth thee that thou and I am one: Duke F. Mistress, despatch you with your safest | Shall we be sunderd? shall we part, sweet girl! haste,

No; let my father seek another heir. And get you from our court.

Therefore devise with me, how we may fly. Ros.

Me, uncle? Whither to go, and what to bear with us : Duke F

You, cousin ;||And do not seek to take your change upon you, Within these ten days if that thou be'st found To bear your griefs yourself, and leave me out ; So near our public court as twenty miles, For, by this heaven, now at our sorrows pale, Thou diest for it.

Say what thou canst, I'll go along with thee. Ros.

I do beseech your grace, Ros. Why, whither shall we go? Let me the knowledge of my fault bear with me : Cel.

To seek my uncle. If with myself I hold intelligence,

Ros. Alas, what danger will it be to us,
Or have acquaintance with mine own desires ; Maids as we are, to travel forth so far?
If that I do not dream, or be not frantic

Beauty provoketh thieves sooner than gold. (As I do trust I am not,) then, dear uncle,

Cel. I'll put myself in poor and mean attire, Never, so much as in a thought unborn,

And with a kind of umber: smirch my face; Did I offend your highness.

The like do you ; so shall we pass along, Duke F.

Thus do all traitors; And never stir assailants. If their purgation did consist in words,


Were it not better, They are as innocent as grace itself :

Because that I am more than common tall, Let it suffice thee, that I trust thee not.

That I did suit me all points like a man? Ros. Yet your mistrust cannot make me a traitor;|| A gallant curtle-axed upon my thigh, Tell me, whereon the likelihood depends. A boar-spear in my hand; and (in my heart Duke F. Thou art thy father's daughter, there's || Lie there what hidden woman's fear there will,) enough.

We'll have a swashings and a martial outside ; Ros. So was I, when your highness took his | As many other mannish cowards have, dukedom;

That do outface it with their semblances. So was I, when your highness banish'd him; Cel. What shall I call thee, when thou art a Treason is not inherited, my lord;

man? Or, if we did derive it from our friends,

Ros. I'll have no worse a name than Jove's own What's that to me? my father was ro traitor :

page, Then, good my liege, mistake me not so much, And therefore look you call me, Ganymede. To think my poverty is treacherous.

But what will you be called? Cel. Dear sovereign, hear me speak.

Cel. Something that hath a reference to my slate ; Duke F. Ay, Celia ; we stay'd her for your sake, No longer Celia, but Aliena. Else had she with her father rang'd along.

Ros. But, cousin, what if we assay'd to steal

The clownish fool out of your father's court ? (1) Inveterately (2) Compassion, (3) A dusky, yellow.coloured earth.

(4) Cutlass. (5) Swaggering.


Act II:



80 oft

Would he not be a comfort to our travel ? 'Tis right, quoth he; this misery doth part

Cel. He'll go along o'er the wide world with me; | The flux of company: Anon, a careless herd,
Leave me alone to woo him: Let's away, Full of the pasture, jumps along by him,
And get our jewels and our wealth together ; And never stays to greet him; Ay, quoth Jaques,
Devise the fittest time, and safest way

Sweep on, you fat and greasy citizens ;
To hide us from pursuit that will be made 'T'is just the fashion: Wherefore do you look
After my flight: Now go we in content,

Upon that poor and broken bankrupt there?
To liberty, and not to banishment. (Exeunt. Thus most invectively he pierceth through

The body of the country, city, court,
Yea, and of this our life: swearing, that we

Are mere usurpers, tyrants, and what's worse,

To fright the animals, and to kill them up,

In their assign'd and native dwelling-place. SCENE I.-The forest of Arden. Enter Duke

Duke S. And did you leave him in this contemsenior, Amiens, and other Lords, in the dress

plation? of Foresters.

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

menting Duke S. Now, my co-mates, and brothers in Upon the sobbing deer. exíle,

Drike S.

Show me the place;
Hath not old custom made this life more sweet I love to cope? him in these sullen fits,
Than that of painted pomp? Are not these woods For then he's full of matter.
More free from peril than the envious court? 2 Lord. I'll bring you to him straight. (Exeunt.
Here feel we but the penalty of Adam,
The seasons' difference; as the icy fang,

SCENE II.-A room in the palace. Enter Duke
And churlish chiding of the winter's wind;

Frederick, Lords, and attendants.
Which when it bites and blows upon my body, Duke F. Can it be possible, that no man saw
Even till I shrink with cold, I smile, and say,

This is no flattery: these are counsellors It cannot be: some villains of my court
That feelingly persuade me what I am.

Are of consent and sufferance in this.
Sweet are the uses of adversity;

1 Lord. I cannot bear of any that did see her.
Which, like the toad, ugly and venomous, The ladies, her attendants of her chamber,
Wears yet a precious jewel in his head; Saw her a-bed; and, in the morning early,
And this our life, exempt from public haunt, They found the bed untreasur'd of their mistress.
Finds tongues in trees, books in the running brooks,

2 Lord. My lord, the roynish3 clown, at whom
Sermons in stones, and good in every thing.
Ami. I would not change it: Happy is your Your grace was wont to laugh, is also missing.

Hesperia, the princess' gentlewoman, That can translate the stubbornness of fortune

Confesses that she secretly o'erheard Into so quiet and so sweet a style.

Your daughter and her cousin much commend Duke S. Come, shall we go and kill us venison?


graces of the wrestler And yet it irks me, the poor dappled fools,

That did but lately foil the sinewy Charles ; Being native burghers of this desert city,

And she believes, wherever they are gone, Should, in their own confines, with forked heads! || That youth is surely in their company. Have their round haunches gor'd.

Duke F. Send to his brother; fetch that gallant 1 Lord.

Indeed, my lord,

hither; The melancholy Jaques grieves at that;

If he be absent, bring his brother to me,
And, in that kind, swears you do more usurp I'll make him find him: do this suddenly :
Than doth your brother that hath banish'd you. And let not search and inquisition quail
To-day, my lord of Amiens, and myself,

To bring again these foolish runaways. (Exeunt.
Did steal behind him, as he lay along
Under an oak, whose antique root peeps out SCENE III.-Before Oliver's house. Enter Or-
Upon the brook that brawls along this wood:

lando and Adam, meeting.
To the which place a poor sequester'd stag, Orl. Who's there?
That from the hunters' aim had ta'en a hurt,

Adam. What! my young master?--O, my genDid come to languish; and, indeed, my lord,

tle master, The wretched animal heav'd forth such groans,

O, my sweet master, O you memory5 That their discharge did stretch his leathern coat

of old sir Rowland! why, what make you here? Almost to bursting; and the big round tears

Why are you virtuous ? Why do people love you? Cours'd one another down his innocent nose

And wherefore are you gentle, strong, and valiant? In piteous chase: and thus the hairy fool,

Why would you be so fondé to overcome Much marked of the melancholy Jaques,

The bony priser of the humorous duke? Stood on the extremest verge of the swift brook,

Your praise is come too swiftly home before you. Augmenting it with tears.

Know you not, master, to some kind of men Duke S.

But what said Jaques ? || Their graces serve them but as enemies? Did he not moralize this spectacle?

No more do yours: your virtues, gentle master, 1 Lord. O, yes, into a thousand similes.

Are sanctified and holy traitors to you.
First, for his weeping in the needless stream; o, what a world is this, when what is comely
Poor deer, quoth he, thou mak'st a testament

Envenoms him that bears it?
As worldlings do, giving thy sum of more

Orl. Why, what's the matter? To that which had too much : Then, being alone, Adam.

O unhappy youth, Left and abandon'd of his velvet friends;

Come not within these doors; within this roof

The enemy of all your graces lives: (1) Barbed arrows. (2) Encounter. (3) Scurvy. (4) Sink into dejection. (5) Memorial.

(6) Inconsiderate.

The parts


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