30 40 Than doth your brother that hath banish'd you. Did steal behind him as he lay along Duke S. But what said Jaques ? Did he not moralize this spectacle ? First Lord. O, yes, into a thousand similes. First, for his weeping into the needless stream; 'Poor deer,' quoth he 'thou makest a testament As worldlings do, giving thy sum of more To that which had too much :' then, being there alone, Left and abandon'd of his velvet friends, "Tis right:' quoth he 'thus misery doth part The flux of company :' anon a careless herd, Full of the pasture, jumps along by him And never stays to greet him; 'Ay,' quoth Jaques, 'Tis just the fashion: wherefore do you look 50 60 In their assign'd and native dwelling-place. Duke S. And did you leave him in this contemplation? Sec. Lord. We did, my lord, weeping and commenting Upon the sobbing deer. Duke S. Show me the place : I love to cope him in these sullen fits, For then he's full of matter. First Lord. I'll bring you to him straight. SCENE II. A room in the palace. Enter DUKE FREDERICK, with Lords. [Exeunt. Duke F. Can it be possible that no man saw them? It cannot be some villains of my court : Are of consent and sufferance in this. First Lord. I cannot hear of any that did see her. The ladies, her attendants of her chamber, Saw her a-bed, and in the morning early They found the bed untreasured of their mistress. Sec. Lord. My lord, the roynish clown, at whom so oft Confesses that she secretly o'erheard Your daughter and her cousin much commend That did but lately foil the sinewy Charles ; That youth is surely in their company. Duke F. 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 suddenly, And let not search and inquisition quail To bring again these foolish runaways. 10 20 [Exeunt. SCENE III. Before OLIVER's house. Enter ORLANDO and ADAM, meeting. Orl. Who's there? Adam. What, my young master? O my gentle master ! O my sweet master! O you memory Of old Sir Rowland! why, what make you here? The bony priser of the humorous duke? Your praise is come too swiftly home before you. No more do yours: your virtues, gentle master, O, what a world is this, when what is comely Orl. Why, what's the matter? 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- Of him I was about to call his father Hath heard your praises, and this night he means And you within it if he fail of that, I overheard him and his practices. This is no place; this house is but a butchery: Orl. Why, whither, Adam, wouldst thou have me go? 10 20 30 Or with a base and boisterous sword enforce 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, Which I did store to be my foster-nurse Hot and rebellious liquors in my blood, 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 ! 40 50 60 We'll light upon some settled low content. Adam. Master, go on, and I will follow thee, SCENE IV. The Forest of Arden. 70 [Exeunt. Enter ROSALIND for GANYMEDE, CELIA for ALIENA, and 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 cannot go no further. 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. 10 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. Enter CORIN and SILVIUS. 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. Sil. O Corin, that thou knew'st how I do love her! 20 20 |