No more do yours; 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 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 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 food? Or with a bafe, and boisterous fword 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 fo; I have five hundred crowns,
The thrifty hire I fav'd under your father,
Which I did ftore, to be my fofter 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 fparrow,
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,
Frofy, but kindly; let me go with you;
I'll do the fervice of a younger man
In all your business and neceffities.

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 fo 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 spent,
We'll light upon fome fettled 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 Foreft of Arden.

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

Rofuit. I care not for my fpirits, if my legs were

Jupiter! how weary are my fpirits? (11)

not weary.

Roj.

(11) O Jupiter! how merry are my Spirits ?] And yet, within thefpace of one intervening line, fhe fays, fhe could find in her heart to difgrace her man's apparet, and cry like a woman. Sure, this is but a very bad fymptom of the brifkness of spirits: 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 hofe ought to fhew itself courageous to petticoat; therefore, courage, good Aliena.

Cel. I pray you, bear with me, I can go no further. Clo. 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.

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.

you ftill.

Cor. That is the way to make her fcorn
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 most ridiculous
Haft thou been drawn to by thy fantasy?
Cor. Into a thousand 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 haft not lov'd.-

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

hore

the contrary difpofition. Mr. Warburton and I, both, concurr'd in conjecuring it should be, as I have reform'd it in the text, weary are my spirits?

N 2

Thou

Thou haft not lov'd.

O Phebe, Phebe, Phebe!

[Exit. Sil. Rof. Alas, poor fhepherd! searching 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 kiffing of her batlet, and her cow's dugs that her pretty chopt hands had milk'd; and I remember the wooing of a peafcod instead of her, from whom I took two cods, and giving her them again, faid with weeping tears, wear these for my fake. We, that are true lovers, run into ftrange capers; but as all is mortal in nature, so is all nature in love mortal in folly.

Rof. Thou fpeak'ft wiser, than thou art ware of.

Clo. Nay, I shall ne'er be ware of mine own wit, 'till I break my fhins against it.

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

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

I faint almoft to death.

Clo. 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.
Cor. And to you, gentle Sir, and to you all.
Rof. I pr'ythee, fhepherd, if that love or gold
Can in this defart place buy entertainment,
Bring us where we may reft ourfelves, and feed;
Here's a young maid with travel much opprefs'd,
And faints for fuccour.

Cor. Fair Sir, I pity her,

And with, for her fake more than for my own,
My fortunes were more able to relieve her;
But I am shepherd to another man,

And do not sheer the fleeces that I graze ;

My

My mafter is of churlish difpofition,

And little wreaks to find the way to heav'n

By doing deeds of hospitality :

Befides, his coate, his flocks, and bounds of feed
Are now on fale, and at our sheep-coate now,
By reason of his abfence, there is nothing
That you will feed on; but what is, come see ;
And in my voice most welcome shall you be.

Rof. What is he, that fhall buy his flock and pasture? · Cor. That young fwain, thatyou faw here but ere while, That little cares for buying any thing.

Rof. I pray thee, if it ftand with honesty,
Buy thou the cottage, pafture, and the flock,
And thou shalt have to pay for it of us.
Cel. And we will mend thy wages.

Il ke this place, and willingly could wafte
My time in it.

Cor. Affuredly the thing is to be fold;
Go with me; if you like, upon report,
The foil, the profit, and this kind of life,
I will your very faithful feeder be;
And buy it with your gold right fuddenly.

[Exeunt.

SCENE changes to a defart Part of the

Forest.

Enter Amiens, Jaques, and others.

SONG.

Under the green-wood tree,

Who loves to lie with me,

And tune his merry note,

Unto the sweet bird's throat,

Come hither, come hither, come hither :

Here fhall he fee

No enemy,

But winter and rough weather.

Jaq. More, more, I pr'ythee, more.
N 3

Ami,