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Your daughter and her cousin much commend
The parts and graces of the wrestler,
That did but lately foil the sinewy Charles ;
And she believes, wherever they are gone,
That youth is surely in their company.
Duke F. Send to his brother: fetch that gallant

If he be absent, bring his brother to me,
I'll make him find him. Do this suddenly,
And let not search and inquisition quail
To bring again these foolish runaways. [Exeunt.


Before OLIVER'S House.

Enter ORLANDO and ADAM, meeting.
Orl. Who's there?
Adam. What! my young master ?–0, my gentle

O, my sweet master! 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, strong, and valiant ?
Why would you be so fond to overcome?
The bony priser of the humorous duke?
Your praise is come too swiftly home before you.
Know you not, master, to some kind of men
Their graces serve them but as enemies?
No more do yours : your virtues, gentle master,
Are sanctified and holy traitors to you.


SO FOND to overcome] i. e. so foolish. See vol. ii. p. 37, note 5. s The Bony priser] In all the folios, “ bony” is spelt bonny.

to some kind of men] Oldest copy, seeme kind.” Corrected in the second folio.


0, what a world is this, when what is comely
Envenoms him that bears it !

Orl. Why, what's the matters?

O, unhappy youth !
Come not within these doors : within this roof
The enemy of all your graces lives.
Your brother—(no, no brother; yet the son-
Yet not the son—I will not call him son-
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.
Orl. Why, whither, Adam, would'st thou have me

go? Adam. No matter whither, so you come not here. Orl. What! would'st thou have me go and beg my

Or with a base and boisterous sword enforce
A thievish living on the common road ?
This I must do, or know not what to do;
Yet this I will not do, do how I can.
I rather will subject me to the malice
Of a diverted blood, and bloody brother.

Adam. But do not so. I have five hundred crowns,
The thrifty hire I sav’d under your father,
Which I did store, to be my foster-nurse
When service should 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 sparrow,

5 Why, what's the matter ?] These words are made part of Adam's speech in the folio of 1623 ; but are properly assigned to Orlando in the folio of 1632. An error of a similar kind occurs in Orlando's next speech.

Be comfort to my age! Here is the gold:
All this I give you.

Let me be your servant :
Though I look old, yet I am strong and lusty;
For in my youth I never did apply
Hot and rebellious liquors in my blood;
Nor did not with unbashful forehead woo
The means of weakness and debility:
Therefore my age is as a lusty winter,
Frosty, but kindly. Let me go with

I'll do the service of a younger man
In all your business and necessities.

Orl. O, good old man! how well in thee appears
The constant service of the antique world,
When service sweat for duty, not for meed!
Thou art not for the fashion of these times,
Where none will sweat but for promotion,
And having that, do choke their service up
Even with the having : it is not so with thee.
But, poor old man, thou prun'st a rotten tree,
That cannot so much as a blossom yield,
In lieu of all thy pains and husbandry.
But come thy ways: we'll go along together,
And ere we have thy youthful wages spent,
We'll light upon some settled low content.

Adam. Master, go on, and I will follow thee
To the last gasp with truth and loyalty.
From seventeen years, till now almost fourscore,
Here lived I, but now live here no more.
At seventeen years many their fortunes seek ;
But at fourscore it is too late a week:
Yet fortune cannot recompense me better,
Than to die well, and not my master's debtor. [Exeunt.

6 From SEVENTEEN years,] The old copies read, seventy. The correction was made by Rowe, and is warranted by what follows in the next line but one.


The Forest of Arden.

Enter Rosalind for Ganymede, CELIA for Aliena, and

Clown, alias TOUCHSTONE'.
Ros. O Jupiter ! how weary are my spirits ®!

Touch. I care not for my spirits, if my legs were not weary.

Ros. I could find in my heart to disgrace my man's apparel, and to cry like a woman; but I must comfort the weaker vessel, as doublet and hose ought to show itself courageous to petticoat : therefore, courage, good Aliena.

Cel. I pray you, bear with me: I can go no farther'.

Touch. For my part, I had rather bear with you, than bear you: yet I should bear no cross, if I did bear you, for, I think, you have no money in your purse.

Ros. Well, this is the forest of Arden.

Touch. Ay, now am I in Arden; the more fool I: when I was at home I was in a better place, but travellers must be content.

Ros. Ay, be so, good Touchstone.—Look you ; who comes here? a young man, and an old, in solemn talk.

Cor. That is the way to make her scorn you still.


– and Clown, alias Touchstone.] The whole of this is precisely the old stage-direction ; and as it is perfectly intelligible, it is to be preferred.

8 0 Jupiter ! how WEARY are my spirits !] In the old copies it stands,“ how merry are my spirits !” an easy misprint : and that it was so, seems shown by the answer of Touchstone, “ I care not for my spirits, if my legs were not weary.” It has been suggested, that Rosalind was assuming good spirits, as well as male attire, and would therefore say, “how merry are my spirits ;” but why should she assume good spirits here to Celia, when in the very next sentence she utters she says, that her spirits are so bad that she could almost cry?

' – I can go no farther.] The copy of 1623 reads, “ I cannot go no farther;" but the second folio corrects the error. VOL. III.


Sil. O Corin, that thou knew'st how I do love her!
Cor. I partly guess, for I have lov'd ere now.

Sil. No, Corin; being old, thou canst not guess,
Though in thy youth thou wast as true a lover
As ever sigh'd upon a midnight pillow:
But if thy love were ever like to mine,
As sure I think did never man love so,
How many actions most ridiculous
Hast thou been drawn to by thy fantasy?

Cor. Into a thousand that I have forgotten.

Sil. O! thou didst then ne'er love so heartily.
If thou remember'st not the slightest folly
That ever love did make thee run into,
Thou hast not lov’d:
Or if thou hast not sat, as I do now,
Wearying thy hearerlo in thy mistress' praise,
Thou hast not lov'd :
Or if thou hast not broke from company,
Abruptly, as my passion now makes me,
Thou hast not lov'd.
O Phebe, Phebe, Phebe!!

[Exit Silvius. Ros. Alas, poor shepherd ! searching of thy wound”, I have by hard adventure found mine own.

Touch. And I mine. I remember, when I was in love I broke my sword upon a stone, and bid him take that for coming a-night to Jane Smile: and I remember the kissing of her batler', and the cow's dugs that her pretty chapped hands had milked : and I remember the wooing of a peascod instead of her; from whom I

10 WEARYING thy hearer] The first folio reads wearing, and the second folio, wearying.

10 Phebe, Phebe, Phebe !] In the old folios this is made a separate line, and properly ; for it is very clear that Shakespeare meant to adopt a species of blank-verse lyrical measure in this speech, each staff ending with “Thou hast not loy’d."

: - searching of the wound,] The folio of 1623 reads, they would ; and the second folio only half corrects the error by substituting their wound. Our text is, no doubt, the true reading.

kissing of her bATLER,] The folio of 1632 reads, batlet : a bat used for washing linen.


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