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properly) ?stys me here at home, unkept; for call you that keeping for a gentleman of my birth, that differs not from the stalling of an ox? his horses 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 his animals on his dunghills are as much bound to him as I. Besides this Nothing that he so plentifully gives me, the Something, that Nature gave me, 3 his discountenance feems to take from me. He lets me feed with his hinds, bars me the place of a brother, and, as much as in him lies, mines my gentility with my educati
This is it, Adam, that grieves me; and the Spirit of my father, which, I think, is within me, begins to mutiny against this servitude. I will no longer endure it, tho' yet. I know no wise remedy how to avoid it.
Orla. Go apart Adam, and thou shalt hear how he will shake me up.
but a thousand crowns left him. They agree upon it; and Or. lando
opens the scene in this manner, As I remember, it was upon tbis, i.e. for the reason we have been talking of, that my
facher left me but a thousand crowns; however, to make amends for this scanty provision, he charged my brother on his blessing to breed me well.
2 STAYS me here at home, unkept ;] We should read stys, i. e. keeps me like a brute. The following words — for call you that keeping that differs not from the stalling of an ox, confirm this emendation. So Caliban says,
And here you sty me in this hard rock. 3 bis COUNTENANCE seems to take from me.] We should certainly read his DISCOUNTENANCE.
Oli. Now, Sir, what make
Orla. Marry, Sir, I am helping you to mar That which God made; a poor unworthy brother of yours, with idleness.
Oli. Marry, Sir, + be bettter employ'd, and be nought a while.
Orla. Shall I keep your hogs, and eat husks with them? what Prodigal's portion have I spent, that I should come to such penury?
Oli. Know you where you are, Sir! Orla. O, Sir, very well; here in your Orchard. Oli. Know you before whom, Sir? Orla. Ay, better than he, I am before, knows me. I know, you are my eldest brother; and in the gentle condition of blood, you should to know me; the courtesie of nations allows you my better, in that you
4 be better employ'd, and be nought a while.] Mr. Theobald has here a very critical note ; which, though his modesty suffered him to withdraw from his second edition, deserves to be perpetuated, i.e. (says he) be better employed, in my opinion, in being and doing nothing. Your idleness as you call it may be an exercise, by which you may make a figure, and endear your self to the world: and I had rather you were a contemptible Cypher. The poet seems to me to have that trite proverbial sentiment in his eye quoted, from Attilius, by the younger Pliny and others; fatis eft otiolum effe quam nihil agere. But Oliver in the perverseness of bis disposition would reverse the doctrine of the proverb. Does the Reader know what all this means? But 'tis no matter. I will affure him-be nought a while is only a north-country proverbial curse equivalent to, a mischief on you. So the old Poet
Correet first thy felfe, walke and BE NOUGHT,
Deeme what thou lij, thou knowejt not my thought. But what the Oxford Editor could not explain, he would amend, and reads, and do aught a while.
are the first-born; but the fame tradition takes not away my blood, were there twenty brothers betwixt
I have as much of my father in me, as you ; S albeit, I confess your coming before me is nearer to his revenue.
Oli. What, boy!
young in this.
Oli. Wilt thou lay hands on me, villain ?
Orla. I am no villain: I am the youngest son of Sir Rowland de Boys; he was my father, and he is thrice a villain, that says, such a father begot villains. Wert thou not my brother, I would not take this hand from thy throat, 'till this other had pulld out thy tongue for saying fo; thou hast rail'd on thyself
. Adam. Sweet masters, be patient; for remembrance, be at accord.
Oli. Let me go, I say.
Orla. I will not, 'till I please: you shall hear me. My father charg'd you in his Will to give me good education: you have train’d me up like a peasant, obscuring and hiding from me all gentleman-like qualities; the Spirit of my father grows strong in me, and I will no longer endure it: therefore allow me such exercises as may become a gentleman, or give me the poor allottery my father left me by teftament; with that I will go
5 albeit, I confess your coming before me is nearer to his REVERENCE.) This is sense indeed, and may be thus underitood,
- The reverence due to my father is, in fome degree, derived to you, as the first born-But I am persuaded that Orlando did not here mean to compliment his brother, or condemn himself; something of both which there is in that sente. I rather think he intended a satirical reflection on his brother, who by letting bim feed with his binds treated him as one not so nearly related to old Sir Robert as himself was. I imagine therefore Shakespear might write, albeit your coming before me is nearer to his REVENUE, 1.2, though you are no nearer in blood, yet it must be owned, indeed, you are nearer in estate.
Oli. And what wilt thou do? beg, when that is spent ? well, Sir, get you in. I will not long be troubled with you: you shall have some part
. I pray you, leave me. Orla. I will no further offend you, than becomes me for my good.
Oli. Get you with him, you old dog.
Adam. Is old dog my reward? most true, I have loft
my teeth in your service. God be with my old master, he would not have spoke such a word.
[Exeunt Orlando and Adam,
SC E N E III.
Oli. Was not Charles, the Duke's wrestler, here to speak with me?
Den. So please you, he is here at the door, and importunes access to you.
Oli. Call him in ; —'twill be a good way; and to morrow the wrestling is.
Oli. Good Monsieur Charles, what's the new news at the new Court?
Cba. There's no news at the Court, Sir, but the old news; that is, the old Duke is banilh'd by his younger brother the new Duke, and three or four loving Jords have put themselves into voluntary exile with him ; whose lands and revenues enrich the new Duke, therefore he gives them good leave to wander.
Oli. Can you tell
, if Rosalind, the Duke's daughter, be banish'd with her father?
Cha. O, no; o for the new Duke's daughter her cousin so loves her, being ever from their cradles bred together, that she would have followed her exile, or have died to stay behind her. She is at the Court, and no less 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 say, 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 say, many young gentlemen flock to him every day, and fleet the time carelesly, as they did in the golden world.
Oli. What, you wrestle to morrow before the new Duke?
Cha. Marry, do I, Sir; and I came to acquaint you
with a matter. I am given, Sir, secretly to understand, that your younger brother Orlando hath a disposition to come in disguis'd against me to try a Fall; to morrow, Sir, I wrestle for my credit ; and he, that escapes me without some broken limb, shall acquit him well. Your brother is but young and tender, and for your love I would be loth to foil him ; as must for mine own honour, if he come in; therefore our of my love to you, I came hither to acquaint you withal; that either you might stay him from his intendment, or brook such disgrace well as he shall run into; in that it is a thing of his own search, and altogether against my will.
Oli, Charles, I thank thee for thy love to me, which thou shalt find, I will most kindly requite. I had my self notice of my brother's purpose herein, and have by underhand means laboured to dissuade him from it'; but he is resolute. I tell thee, Charles, he is the stubborneft young fellow of France ; full of 6 for the Duke's daughter her cousin) read, the new Duke's