And the believes, where ever they are gone,
That youth is furely in their company.

Duke. Send to his brother, fetch that gallant hither:
If he be absent, bring his brother to me,
I'll make him find him; do this fuddenly;
And let not fearch and inquifition quail
To bring again thefe foolish runaways.

Orla.

{Exeunt

SCENE changes to Oliver's house.

Enter Orlando and Adam.

'HO's there?

WH

Adam. What! my young mafter ? oh, my gentle mafter,

Oh, 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, ftrong, and valiant?
Why would you be fo fond to overcome

The bonny prifer of the humorous Duke? (10)
Your praife is come too fwiftly home before you.
Know you not, master, to some kind of men
Their graces ferve them but as enemies?

(10) The bonny priser of the humorous Duke.] Mr. Warburton advifes to read,

The boney prifer

an epithet more agreeing with the wreftler, who is characteriz'd for his bulk and strength; not his gaiety, humour, or affability. I have not difturb'd the text, as the other reading gives fenfe: tho' there are feveral paffages in the play, which, in good meafure, vouch for my friend's conjecture. The Duke fays, fpeaking of the difference betwixt him and Orlando ;

You will take little delight in it, I can tell you, there is fuck odds in

the man:

And the Princefs fays to Orlando;

Young Gentleman, your spirits are too bold for your years: you bave seen cruel proof of this man's ftrength.

And again, when they are wrestling;

I would I were invifible, to catch the ftrong fellow by the leg. And in another paffage he is characteriz'd by the name of the finewy Charles

No

No more do yourss your virtues, gentle master,
Are fanctified and holy traitors to you.

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

Orla. Why, what's the matter?
Adam. O unhappy youth,

Come not within thefe doors; within this roof
The enemy of all your graces lives:

Your brother-(no; no brother; yet the fon,-
Yet not the fon; I will not call him fon
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 houfe is but a butchery;
Abhor it, fear it, do not enter it.

Orla. Why, whither, Adam, wouldft thou have me go?
Adam. No matter whither, fo you come not here.
Orla. What, wouldst thou have me go and beg my

Or with a base, and boisterous fword enforce
A thievifh 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 fubject me to the malice
Of a diverted blood, and bloody brother.

food?

Adam. But do not fo; I have five hundred crowns,
The thrifty hire I fav'd under your father,
Which I did ftore, 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,
Be comfort to my age; here is the gold,
All this I give you, let me be your fervant;
Tho' I look old, yet I am strong and lufty;
For in my youth I never did apply
Hot and rebellious liquors in my blood;
Nor did I with unbafhful forehead woo
VOL. II.

N

The

The means of weakness and debility :
Therefore my age is as a lufty winter,
Frofty, but kindly; let me go with you;
I'll do the fervice of a younger man
In all your bufinefs and neceflities.

Orla. Oh! good old man, how well in thee appears
The conftant fervice of the antique world;
When fervice fweat for duty, not for meed!
Thou art not for the fashion of these times,
Where none will fweat, 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'ft a rotten tree,
That cannot fo 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 fpent,
We'll light upon some settled low content.

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

[Exeunt. SCENE changes to the Forest of Arden.

Enter Rofalind in Boys cloaths for Ganymed, Celia dre like a Shepherdefs for Aliena, and Clown.

Rof. Chow try my fpirits, if my legs were

Jupiter! how weary are my spirits? (11)

not weary.

Rof.

(11) O Jupiter! bow merry are my spirits ?] And yet, within the fpace of one intervening line, the fays, fhe could find in her heart to difgrace her man's apparel, and cry like a woman. Sure, this is but a very bad fymptom of the brifkness of fpiritse rather, a direct proof of

the

Rof. I could find in my heart to difgrace my man's apparel, and cry like a woman; but I must comfort the weaker veffel, as doublet and hose ought to fhow itself courageous to petticoat; therefore, courage, good Aliena. Cel. I pray you, bear with me, I cannot go no further. Clo. For my part, I had rather bear with you, than bear you; yet I fhould bear no cross, if I did bear you; for, I think. you have no money in your purfe.

Rof. Well, this is the foreft of Arden.

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

Rof. Ay, be fo, good Touchstone: look you, who comes here; a young man and an old in folemn talk.

Enter Corin and Silvius.

Cor. That is the way to make her scorn you flill.
Sil. O Corin, that thou knew'ft how I do love her!
Cor. I partly guess; for I have lov'd ere now.
Sil. No, Corin, being old, thou can't not guess,
Tho' in thy youth thou waft as true a lover,
As ever figh'd upon a midnight pillow;
But if thy love were ever like to mine,
(As, fure, I think, did never man love fo)
How many actions moft ridiculous
Haft thou been drawn to by thy fantasy?

Cor. Into a thoufand that I have forgotten.
Sil. O, thou didst then ne'er love fo heartily
If thou remember'ft not the flightest folly,
That ever love did make thee run into ;
Thou haft not lov'd.

Or if thou haft not fate as I do now,
Wearying the hearer in thy miftrefs praise,
Thou hatt not lov'd.-

Or if thou haft not broke from company,
Abruptly, as my paffion now makes me;

the contrary difpofition. Mr. Warburton and I, both, concurr'd in one jecturing it should be, as I have reform'd it in the text;

weary are my Spirits ?

N 2

bow

Thou

Thou haft not lov'd.

O Phebe, Phebe, Phebe!

[Exit Sil Ref Alas, poor fhepherd! fearching of thy wound, I have by hard adventure found my own.

Clo. And I mine; I remember, when I was in love, I broke my fword upon a stone, and bid him take that For coming a-nights to Jane Smile; and I remember the kifling of her batlet, and the cow's dugs that her pretty chopt hands had milk'd; and I remember the wooing of a peafcod inftead of her, from whom I took two cods, and giving her them again, faid with weeping tears, wear thefe for my fake. We, that are true lovers, run into ftrange capers; but as all is mortal in nature, fo is all nature in love mortal in folly.

Rof. Thou fpeak'ft wifer, than thou art ware of. Clo. Nay, I fhall `ne'er be ware of mine own wit, 'till I break my fhins against it.

my

Rof. Jowe! Jove! this fhepherd's paffion is much upon

fashion.

Cla. And mine, but it grows fomething ftale with me. Cel. I pray you, one of you queftion yond man, If he for gold will give us any food;

I faint almoft to death.

Cla. Holla; you, Clown!

Rof. Peace, fool; he's not thy kinsman.
Cor. Who calls?

Clo. Your betters, Sir.

Cor. Elfe they are very wretched.

Rof. Peace, I fay; good even to you, friend.
Cer. And to you, gentle Sir, and to you all.
Ref. I pr'ythee, fhepherd, if that love or gold
Can in this defart place buy entertainment,
Bring us where we may reft ourselves, and feed
Here's a young maid with travel much oppress'd,

And faints for fuccour.

Cor. Far sir, I pity her,

And wifh, for her fake more than for mine own,
My fortunes were more able to relieve her;

But I am shepherd to another man,

And do not fheer the fleeces that I graze;

My