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SCENE II.-A Room in the Palace. Enter Duke FREDERICK, Lords, and Attendants. Duke F. Can it be possible, that no
them? It cannot be : some villains of my court Are of consent and sufferance in this.
1 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. 2 Lord, My lord, the roynish * clown, at whom 80
oft Your grace was wont to laugh, is also missing. Hesperia, the princess' gentlewoman, Confesses, that she secretly o’erheard Your daughter and her cousin much commend The parts and graces of the wrestler That did but lately foil the sinewy Charles ; And she believes, wherever they are gone, 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. [Exeunt.
SCENE III.-Before OLIVER's House.
Enter ORLANDO and ADAM, meeting. Orl. Who's there? Adam. What! My young master?-0, my gentle
master, 0, my sweet master, () you memory + Of old Sir Rowland! Why, what niake you here! Why are you virtuous ? Why do people love you ? And wherefore are you gentle, strong, and valiant? Why would you be so fond I to overcome The bony priser of the humorous duke? Your praise is come too swiftly home before you. Know you not, master, to some kind of men Their graces serve them but as enemies? No more do yours; your virtues, gentle master, Are sanctified and holy traitors to you. 0, what a world is this, when wha is comely Envenoms him that bears it!
Orl. Why, what's the matter?
Adam. O unhappy youth, Come not within these doors; within this root The enemy of all your graces lives; Your brother-(no, no brother; yet the son Yet not the son ;-I will not call him sonOf him I was about to call his father, Hath heard your praises ; and this night he means To burn the lodging where you used 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 house is but a butchery ; Abhorit, fear it, do not enter it.
Orl. Why, whither, Adain, wouldst thou have me
Adam. But do not so: I have five hundred crowns
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! Thou art not for the fashion of these times,
• Blood turned from its natural course,
Where none will sweat, but for promotion;
Adam. Master, go on; and I will follow thee, To the last gasp, with truth and loyalty.From seventeen years till now almost fourscore Here lived I, but now live here no more. At seventeen years many their fortunes seek; But at fourscore, it is too late a week: Yet fortune cannot recompense me better, Than to die well, and not my master's debtor. [Exeunt.
SCENE IV-The Forest of Arden.
Enter ROSALIND in Boy's Clothes, CELIA drest like a Shepherdess, 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 shew itself courageous to petticoat: therefore, cou. rage, good Aliena.
Cel. 1 pray you, bear with me; I cannot go no further.
Touch. For my part, I had rather hear with you, than bear you: but I should bear no cross, if I did bear you; for, I think, you have no money in your
Ros. Well, this is the forest of Arden.
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:-Look you, who comes here; a young man, and an old, in solemn talk.
Enter CORIN and SILVIUS.
Cor. That is the way to make her scorn you still.
• A piece of money stamped with a cross.
Sil. O Corin, that thou knew'st how I do love
her! Cor. I partly guess; for I have loved ere now. Sil. No, Corin, bewog old, thou canst not guess ;; Though iu thy youth thou wast as true a lover As ever sigh'd upon a midnight pillow : But, if thy love were ever like to mine, (As sure I think did never man love so,) How many actions most ridiculous Hast thou been drawn to by thy fantasy?
Cor. Into a thousand that I have forgotten. Sil. O, thou didst then ne'er love so heartily : If thou remember'st not the slightest folly That ever love did make thee run into, Thou hast not loved : Or if thou hast not sat as I do now, Wearying thy hearer in thy mistress' praise, Thou hast not loved : Or if thou hast not broke from company, Abruptly, as my passion now makes me, Thou hast not loved:-0 Phebe, Phebe, Phehe!
(Exit Silvius. Ros. Alas, poor shepherd ! Searching of thy
wound, I have by hard adventure found mine own.
Touch. And I mine : I remember, when I was in love, I broke my sword upon a stone, and bid him take that for coining anight to Jane Smile : and I remember the kissing of her batlet, and the cow's dugs that her pretty chopp'd hands had milk'd: and I remember the wooing of a peascod instead of her; from whom I took two cods, and, giving her them again, said with weeping tears, Wear these for my sake. We, that are true lovers, run into strange capers; but as all is mortal in nature, so is all nature in love mortal in folly.
Ros, Thou speak'st wiser than thou art 'ware of.
Touch. Nay, I shall ne'er be 'ware of mine own wit, till I break my shins against it.
Ros. Jove! Jove! this shepherd's passion Is much upon my fashion. Touch. And mine: but it grows something stale
Touch. Holla ; you, clown!
Touch. Your betters, Sir.
(or. And to you, gentle Sir, and to you all. Ros. I pr'ythee, shepherd, if that love, or
goid, Can in this desert place buy entertainment, Bring us where we may rest ourselves, and feed : Here's a young maid with travel inuch oppress'd, And faints for succour.
Cor. Fair Sir, I pity her, And wish for ber sake, more than for mine own, My fortunes were more able to relieve her : But I am sliepherd to another man, And do not sheer the tleeces that I graze ; lly master is of churlish disposition, Aud little recks' to tind the way to heaven By Roing deeris of hospitality : Besides, his cote, his tlocks, and bounds of feed, Are now on sale, and al our sheepcote now, By reason of his absence, there is nothing That you will feed on; but what is, come sce, And in my voice most welcome shall you be. Ros. What is he that shall buy his fiock and pas
ture! Cor. That young swain that you saw here but ere
Ros. I pray thee, it it stand with honesty,
Cor. Assuredly, the thing is to be sold: Go with me; if you like, upon report, The soil, the profit, and this kind of life, I will your very faithful teeder be, And buy it with your gold right suddenly. (Exeunt.
SCENE V.-The same.
Who loves to lie with me,