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Bat. Sweet Portia,

If you did know to whom I gave the ring,
If you did know for whom I gave the ring,
And would conceive for what I gave the ring,
And how unwillingly I left the ring,
When nought would be accepted but the ring,
You would abate the strength of your difplea-

fure.

Por. If you had known the virtue of the ring,
Or half her worthiness that gave the ring,
Or your own honour to retain the ring,
You would not then have parted with the ring.
What man is there fo much unreasonable,
If you had pleas'd to have defended it
With any terms of zeal, wanted the modeity
To urge the thing held as a ceremony?
Nerifia teaches me what to believe;
I'll die for't, but fome woman had the ring.

Baff. Nay, but hear me:
Pardon this fault, and by my foul I swear,
I never more will break an oath with thee.

Anth. I once did lend my body for his wealth 2; Which, but for him that had your husband's ring, [To Portia.

Had quite miscarry'd: I dare be bound again,
My foul upon the forfeit, that your lord
Will never more break faith advisedly.

Por. Then you shall be his furety: Give him this;
And bid him keep it better than the other.

Anth. Here, lord Baffanio; fwear to keep this

ring.

doctor.

Baff. By heaven, it is the fame I gave the
Por. I had it of him: pardon me, Baffanio;
For by this ring the doctor lay with me.

Ner. And pardon me, my gentle Gratiano;
Baff. No, by mine honour, madam, by my foul, Por that fame scrubbed boy, the doctor's clerk,

No woman had it, but a civil doctor,

Who did refuse three thousand ducats of me,

And begg'd the ring; the which I did deny him,

And futier'd him to go difpleas'd away;

Even he that had held up the very life

In lieu of this, laft night did lie with me.

Of my dear friend. What should I fay, sweet lady? Here is a letter, read it at your leifure,

1 was enforc'd to fend it after him;

Gra. Why, this is like the mending of highway In fummer, where the ways are fair enough: What! are we cuckolds ere we have deferv'd it?

Por. Speak not fo grofsly. You are all amaz'd:

It comes from Padua, from Bellario:

I was befet with shame and courtefy;

There you shall find, that Portia was the doctor;

My honour would not let ingratitude

Su math befmear it: Pardon me, good lady;

Neriffa there, her clerk: Lorenzo here
Shall witness, I fet forth as foon as you,

For, by these bleised candles of the night,

And but even now return'd; I have not yet

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Had you been there, I think you would have Enter'd my houfe.-Anthonio, you are welcome;

Par. Let not that doctor e'er come near my There you fhall find, three of your argofies
houfe:

Since he hath got the jewel that I lov'd,

Anal that which you did fwear to keep for me,

I will become as liberal as you;

I'd not deny him any thing I have,

No, not my body, nor my hutband's bed:
Know him I shall, I am well fure of it:

Lie not a night from home; watch me, like Argus:
If you do not, if I be left alone,

Now, by mine honour, which is yet my own,
I'd have that doctor for my bedfellow.

Ner. And I his clerk; therefore be well advis'd,
How you do leave me to mine own protection.
Gra. Well, do you fo: let me not take him then;
Fur, if I do, I'll mar the young clerk's pen.

Arb. I am the unhappy fubject of these
quarrels.

For. Sir, grieve not you; You are welcome not-
withstanding.

B. Portia, forgive me this enforced wrong;
And, in the hearing of these many friends,
liwear to thee, even by thine own fair eyes,
Wherein I fee myself,-
Por. Mark you but that!

In both mine eyes he doubly sees himself:
In each eye, one: -fwear by your double self,
And there's an oath of credit.

You shall not know by what itrange accident
I chanced on this letter.

Anth. I am dumb.

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Of these events at full: Let us go in;
And charge us there upon inter'gatories,
And we will answer all things faithfully.

Gra. Let it be fo: The first inter'gatory, That my Neriffa shall be fworn on, is, Whether till the next night the had rather stay; Or go to bed now, being two hours to day:

But were the day come, I should wish it dark,
That I were couching with the doctor's clerk
Well, while I live, I'll fear no other thing
So fore, as keeping safe Neriffa's ring.

[Exeunt omnes.

AS

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Lords belonging to the two Dukes; with pages, foresters, and other attendants.

The SCENE lies, first, near Oliver's bouse; and, afterwards, partly in the Duke's court, and partly

in the foreft of Aden.

ACT

SCENE

1.

Oliver's Orchard.

Enter Orlando and Adam.

Criando. A

1.

fof a brother, and, as much as in him lies, mines my gentility with my education. This is it, Adam, that grieves me; and the spirit of my father, which I think is within me, begins to mutiny SI remember, Adam, it was upon against this fervitude: I will no longer endure it, this fashion bequeathed me: - By though yet I know no wife remedy how to avoid wh, but a poor thousand crowns; and, as thou it. 'It, charg'd my brother, on his blessing, to breed me well: and there begins my fadness. My brother Jaques he keeps at school, and report peaks goldenly of his profit for my part, he he will shake me up.

Keeps me ruftically at home, or, to speak more properly, stays me here at home, unkept: "For call you that keeping for a gentleman of my birth, Bat differs not from the stalling of an ox? His baries are bred better; for, besides that they are fair with their feeding, they are taught their manage, and to that end riders dearly hired: but I, his brother, gain nothing under him but growth; for the which bis animals on his dunghills are as much und to him as I. Besides this nothing that he fo plentifully gives me, the something that nature gare me, his countenance feems to take from me: he lets me feed with his hinds, bars me the place

Enter Oliver.

Adam. Yonder comes my master, your brother.
Orla. Go apart, Adam, and thou shalt hear how

Oli. Now, fir! what make you here?

Orla. Nothing: I am not taught to make any thing.

Oli. What mar you then, fir?

Orla. Marry, fir, I am helping you to mar that which God made, a poor unworthy brother of yours, with idleness.

Oli. Marry, fir, be better employ'd, and be nought a while 2.

Orla. Shall I keep your hogs, and eat hufks with them? What prodigal portion have I spent, that I should come to such penury?

Oli. Know you where you are, fir?

Dr. Warburton thinks we should read Ayes, i. e. keeps me like a brute. 2 Probably meaning, be content to be a cypher, or of no confequence for the present.

Orla: hard. Oli. Good monfieur Charles! what's the new news at the new court?

Orla. O, fir, very well: here in your orchard. Oli. Know you before whom, fir? Orla. Ay, better than he, I am before, knows Cha. There's no news at the court, fir, but the me. I know you are my eldest brother; and, in old news that is, the old duke is banith'd by his the gentle condition of blood, you should fo know younger brother the new duke; and three or four

me

The courtesy of nations allows you my better, loving lords have put themselves into voluntary in that you are the firit-born; but the fame tra- exile with him, whose lands and revenues enrich dition takes not away my blood, were there twenty the new duke, therefore he gives them good leave brothers betwixt us; I have as much of my father to wander.

in me as you; albeit, I confefs your coming before me is nearer to his reverence.

Oli. What, boy!

Oli. Can you tell, if Rofalind, the old duke's daughter, be banish'd with her father?

Cha. O, no; for the new duke's daughter, her

Orla. Come, come, elder brother, you are too coufin, fo loves her,-being ever from their cradles young in this.

Oli. Wilt thou lay hands on me, villain? Orla. I am no villain 2: I am the youngest fon of fir Rowland de Boys; he was my father; and he is thrice a villain, that fays, such a father begot villains: Wert thou not my brother, I would not take this hand from thy throat, 'till this other had pulled out thy tongue for faying fo; thou haft rail'd on thyself.

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

me.

Oli. Let me go, I fay.

bred together, that she would have followed her exile, or have died to stay behind her. She is at the court, and no lefs 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 fay, 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 fay, many young gentlemen flock to him every day; and fleet the time carelefly, as they did in the golden world.

Oli. What, you wrestle to-morrow before the new duke?

Orla. I will not, 'till I please; you shall hear My father charg'd you in his will to give me good education: you have train'd me up like a Cha. Merry, do I, fir, and I come to acquaint peafant, obfcuring and hiding from me all gen-you with a matter. I am given, fir, tecretly to tleman-like qualities: the fpirit of my father grows understand that your younger brother Orlando hath strong in me, and I will no longer endure it: a difpofition to come in disguis'd againft me to try therefore allow me fuch exercises as may become a fall: To-morrow, fir, I wrestle for my credit ; a gentleman, or give me the poor allottery me and he that escapes me without fome broken limb, father left me by teftament; with that I will go thall acquit hun well. Your brother is but young, buy my fortunes. and tender; and, for your love, I would be loth

Oli. And what wilt thou do? beg, when that to foil him, as Imuft, for mine own honour, if is spent? Well, fir, get you in: I will not long he come in: therefore, out of my love to you, I be troubled with you: you shall have fome part of came hither to acquaint you withal; that either your will: I pray you, leave me. you might fray him from his intendment, or brook Orla. I will no further offend you than becomes fuch difgrace well as he shall run into; in that me for my good.

Enter Dennis.

it is a thing of his own fearch, and altogether Oli. Get you with him, you old dog. againtt my will. Adam. Is old dog my reward? Moft true, I Off. Charles, I thank thee for thy love to me, have loft my teeth in your service. God be with which thou shalt find, I will mort kindly requite. my old maiter, he would not have spoke fuch a I had myfelf notice of my brother's purpose herein. word. [Fxeunt Orlando and Adam. and have by underhand means laboured to diffuade Oli. Is it even fo? begin you to grow upon me? him from it; but he is refolute. I'll tell thee, I will phyfick your ranknets, and yet give no thou- Charles, it is the ftubbornest young fellow of sand crowns neither. Holla, Dennis! France; full of ambition, an envious emulator of every man's good parts, a fecret and villainous contriver against me his natural brother; therefore ufe thy difcretion; I had as lief thou didft break his neck, as his finger; and thou wert beit look to't; for if thou doft him any flight disgrace, or if he do not mightily grace himfelf on thee, he will practife againft thee by poiton; entrap thee by fome treacherous device; and never leave thee, 'till he hath ta'en thy life by fome indirect means or other : for, I affure thee, and almost with tears I fpeak it, there is not one fo young and fo villainous thas Iday living. I fpeak but brotherly of him; bat

Den. Calls your worship? Oli. Was not Charles, the duke's wrestler, here to speak with me?

Dan. So please, he is here at the door, and portunes access to you.

im

Oli. Call him in. [Exit Dennis.] 'Twill be a good way; and to-morrow the wreitling is.

Enter Charles.

Cha. Good-morrow to your worship.

1 Villain here means, a wicked or bloody man. of low extraction.

• But in this place Orlando uses it for a fellow

should

ould i anatomize him to thee as he is, I must | Rof. Nay, now thou goeft from fortune's office buth 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.

Of. Farewel, good Charles. ---- Now will I ftir this gamester: I hope, I shall fee an end of him; for my foul, 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 forts enchantingly beloved: and, indeed, fo much in the heart of the world, and especially of my own people, who best know him, that I am altogether mifprifed: but it shall not be so long; this wrestler had clear all: nothing remains, but that I kindle the boy thither, which now I'll go about. [Exit.

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R Dear Celia, I show more mirth than I am ives of; and would you yet I'were merrier? Udel you could teach me to forget a banish'd fatler, you matt not learn me how to remember any extraordinary pleature.

Herein, I fee, thou lov'ft me not with the full weight that I love thee: if my uncle, thy banothed fisher, had banished thy uncle, the duke my father, fo thou hadit been ftilt with me, I could have Laught my love to take thy father for mine; o wouldt thou, if the truth of thy love to me zre fo righteoufly temper'd as mine is to thee. R: Well, I will forget the condition of my ture, to rejoice in yours.

You know, my father hath no child but I, marone is like to have; and, truly, when he dies, Southalt be his heir: for what he hath taken away from thy father perforce, I will render thee ain affection; by mine honour, I will; and

ben I break that oath, let me turn monfter: trevefore, my fweet Rofe, my dear Rose, be

From henceforth I will, coz, and devise fports: let me fee; What think you of falling in

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to nature's: fortune reigns in gifts of the world, not in the lineaments of nature.

Enter Touchflone, a clorun.

Cel. No? When nature hath made a fair creature, may the not by fortune fall into the fire? Though nature hath given us wit to flout at fertune, hath not fortune fent in this fool to cut off the argument?

Rof. Indeed, there is fortune too hard for nature; when fortune makes nature's natural the cutter off of nature's wit.

Cel. Peradventure, this is not fortune's work neither, but nature's; who perceiving our natural wits too dull to reason of fuch goddeffes, hath fent this natural for our whetstone: for always the dulness of the fool is the whetstone of the wits.How now, wit? whither wander you?

Clo. Mistress, you must come away to your father. Cel. Were you made the messenger?

Clo. No, by mine honour; but I was bid to come for you.

Rof. Where learned you that oath, fool?

Clo. Of a certain knight, that swore by his honour they were good pancakes, and fwore by his honour the muftard was naught: now, I'll stand to it, the pancakes were naught, and the mustard was good; and yet was not the knight forfworn.

Cal. How prove you that, in the great heap of your knowledge?

Rof. Ay, marry; now unmuzzle your wisdom. C/%. Stand you both forth now: ftroke your chins, and fwear by your beards that I am a knave. Gel. By our beards, if we had them, thou art.

Clo. By my knavery, if I had it, then I were : but if you fwear by that that is not, you are not forfworn: no more was this knight, fwearing by his honour, for he never had any; or if he had, he had fworn it away, before ever he fatw thoie pancakes or that muffard.

Cel. Pr'ythee, who is it that thou mean'ft?

Clo. One that old Frederick, your father, loves. Cel. My father's love is enough to honour him: Enough! speak no more of him; you'll be whipp'd for taxation, one of these days.

Clo. The more pity, that fools may not speak wifely what wife men do foolishly.

Cel. By my troth, thou fay'it true; for fince the little wit, that fools have, was filenc'd, the little foolery, that wife men have, makes a great show.. Here comes Monfieur Le Beau.

Enter Le Beau.

Rof. With his mouth full of news.

Cel. Which he will put on us, as pigeons feed their young.

Ref. Then shall we be news-cramm'd.

Cel. All the better; we shall be the more

Frane, from her wheel, that her gifts may hence-market.ble. Bon jour, Monfieur le Beau; what's Pith be beftowed equally.

FC I would we could do fo; for her benefits we mightily misplaced and the bountiful blind zan doth most mistake in her gifts to women. Tis true for those, that the makes fair, elarce makes honeft; and those, that the makes ett, the makes very ill-favour'dly.

the news?

Le Beau. Fair princess, you have loft much good fport.

Cel. Sport? of what colour?

Le Beau. What colour, madam? How fall I

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