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Abhor it, fear it, do not enter it.

Orla. Why, whither, Adam, wouldft thou have me go Adam. No matter whither, so you come not here. Orla. What, wouldst thou have me go and beg my food Or with a base, 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 fubfect 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
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 neceffities.

Orla. Oh! good old man, how well in thee
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 fweat, but for promotion;
And, having That, do choak their fervice 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 bloffom 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,

appears

We'll

We'll light upon fome fettled low Content.
Adam. Master, go on; and I will follow thee
To the laft gafp with truth and loyalty.

rom 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;

fet fortune cannot recompence me better

Than to die well, and not my mafter's debtor. [Exe.

SCENE changes to the FOREST of Arden. Inter Rofalind in Boy's cloaths for Ganimed, Celia dreft like a Shepherdefs for Aliena, and Clown.

Jupiter! how weary are my fpirits? (5)
Clo. I care not for my fpirits, if my legs

were not weary.

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 fhow it felf 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 Crofs, if I did bear you; for, I think, you have no mony 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.

(s) o Jupiter! how merry are my Spirits? ] And yet, within the Space of one intervening Line, She fays, She could find in her Heart to difgrace her Man's Apparel, and cry like a Woman. Sure, this is but a very bad Symptom of the Briskness of Spirits: rather, a direct Proof of the contrary Difpofition. Mr. Warburton and I, concurr'd in conjecturing it should be, as I have reform'd it in the Text: how weary are my Spirits? And the Clown's Reply makes this Reading certain.

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Enter

Enter Corin and Silvius.

Cor. That is the way to make her fcorn you ft
Sil. O Corin, that thou knew'ft how I do lov
Cor. I partly guefs; for I have lov'd ere now
Sil. No, Corin, being old, thou can'ft not gu
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 fantafie?
Cor. Into a thoufand that I have forgotten.
Sil. O, thou didst then ne'er love fo heartily;
If thou remember'it 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 mistress praise,
Thou haft not lov'd.

Or if thou haft not broke from company,
Abruptly, as my paffion now makes me ;
Thou haft not lov'd.

O Phebe! Phebe! Phebe!

[Exit

Rof. Alas, poor Shepherd! fearching of thy wo I have by hard adventure found my own.

Clo. And I mine; I remember, when I was in l I broke my fword upon a ftone, and bid him take for coming a-nights to Jane Smile; and I remem the kiffing of her batlet, and the cow's dugs that pretty chopt hands had milk'd; and I remember wooing of a peafcod instead of her, from whom I t two cods, and giving her them again, faid with we ing tears, wear thefe for my fake. We, that are t lovers, run into ftrange capers; but as all is mortal 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,

As You LIKE IT.

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

I faint almoft to death.

Clo. Holla; you, Clown!

Rof. Peace, fool; he's not thy kinfman.
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 our felves, and feed;
Here's a young maid with travel much oppress'd,
And faints for fuccour.

Cor. Fair Sir, I pity her,

And wish 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 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 fheep-coate now,
By reafon of his abfence, there is nothing
That you will feed on; but what is, come fee;
And in my voice moft welcome fhall you be.

Rof. What is he, that fhall buy his flock and paf

ture?

Cor. That young fwain, that you faw here but ere while,

That little cares for buying any thing.

Rof. I pray thee, if it fland with honesty,

Buy thou the cottage, pafture, and the flock,
And thou fhalt have to pay for it of us.
Cel. And we will mend thy wages.

I like this place, and willingly could wafte

My time in it.

VOL. II.

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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.

[Exe

SCENE changes to a defart Part of th

FOREST.

Enter Amiens, Jaques, and others.

SONG.

Under the green-wood tree,

Who loves to lye with me,

And tune his merry note,

Unto the fweet bird's throat,

Come hither, come hither, come hither:
Here shall be fee

No enemy,

But vinter and rough weather.

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

Ami. It will make you melancholy, Monfieur Jagu Faq. I thank it; more, I pr'y thee, more; I fuck melancholy out of a Song, as a weazel fucks eg more, I pr'y thee, more.

Ami. My voice is rugged; I know, I cannot pl

you.

Faq. I do not defire you to please me, I do de you to fing; come, come, another stanzo ; call you

itanzo's ?

Ami. What you will, Monfieur Jaques.

Jaq. Nay, I care not for their names, they owe nothing. Will you fing?

Ami. More at your requeft, than to please my self Jaq. Well then, if ever I thank any man, I'll tha you; but That, they call Compliments, is like the counter of two dog-apes. And when a man thanks

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