'That can translate the stubbornness of fortune Into so quiet and so sweet a style.

Duke S. Come, shall we go and kill us venison ? And yet it irks me, the poor dappled fools,— Being native burghers of this desert city,Should, in their own confínes, with forked heads Have their round haunches gor'd.

1 Lord. Indeed, my lord,

The melancholy Jaques grieves at that;
And, in that kind, swears you do more usurp
Than doth your brother that hath banish'd you.
To-day, my lord of Amiens, and myself,
Did steal behind him, as he lay along
Under an oak, whose antique root peeps out
Upon the brook that brawls along this wood :"
To the which place a poor sequester'd stag,
That from the hunters' aim had ta'en a hurt,
Did come to languish; and, indeed, my lord,
The wretched animal heav'd forth such groans,
That their discharge did stretch his leathern coat
Almost to bursting; and the big round tears
Cours'd one another down his innocent nose
In piteous chase and thus the hairy fool,
Much marked of the melancholy Jaques,
Stood on th' extremest verge of the swift brook,
Augmenting it with tears.

Duke S. But what said Jaques ?
Did he not moralize this spectacle?

1 Lord. O, yes, into a thousand similies.
First, for his weeping in the needless stream;
Poor deer, quoth he, thou mak'st a testament
As worldlings do, giving thy sum of more
To that which had too much: Then, being 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,

[7] "There at the foot of yonder nodding beech

"That wreathes its old fantastic roots so high,

"His listless length at noon-tide would he stretch,

"And pour upon the brook that babbles by." Gray's Elegy. STEEV. [8] It is said in one of the marginal notes to a similar passage in the 13th Song of Drayton's Polyolbion, that "the harte weepeth at his dying: his tears are held to be precious in medicine." STEEVENS.

Sweep on, you fat and

greasy citizens;

'Tis just the fashion: Wherefore do you look
Upon that poor and broken bankrupt there?
Thus most invectively he pierceth through
The body of the country, city, court,
Yea, and of this our life: swearing, that we
Are mere usurpers, tyrants, and what's worse,
To fright the animals, and to kill them up,

In their assign'd and native dwelling place.

Duke S. And did you leave him in this contemplation? 2 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.

2 Lord. I'll bring you to him straight.

SCENE II.

[Exeunt.

A Room in the Palace. Enter Duke FREDERICK, Lords, and Attendants.

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.

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 untreasur'd of their mistress.

2 Lord. My lord, the roynish clown, at whom so oft
Your grace was wont to laugh, is also missing.
Hesperia, the princess' gentlewoman,
Confesses, that she secretly o'er-heard
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 quail9 To bring again these foolish runaways. [9] To quail is to faint, to sink into dejection.

STEEVENS.

[Exeunt

SCENE III.

Before OLIVER's House. Enter ORLANDO and ADAM,

Orla. Who's there?

meeting.

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?
Why are you virtuous? Why do people love you ?
And wherefore are you gentle, strong, and valiant?
Why would
you be so fond 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.

O, 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 these doors; within this roof of all your graces

The enemy

lives:

Your brother-(no, no brother; yet the son-
Yet not the son;-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 house is but a butchery;
Abhor it, fear it, do not enter it.

Orla. Why, whither, Adam, wouldst 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 sword, 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

[1] Place here signifies a seat, a mansion, a residence. So, in the first Book of Samuel: "Saul set him up a place, and is gone down to Gilgal." We still use the word in compound with another, as St. James's place, &c. STEEVENS. Plas in the Welch language, signifies a mansion-house. MALONE.

16

VOL. II.

L

Of a diverted blood, and bloody brother.

Adam. But do not so: 1 have five hundred crowns,
The thrifty hire I sav'd under your father,
Which I did store to be my foster-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, providentially caters for the sparrow,?
Be comfort to my age! Here is the gold;
All this I give you : Let me be your servant;
Though I look old, yet I am strong and lusty :
For in my youth I never did apply

Hot and rebellious liquors in my blood;
Nor did not with unbashful forehead woo
The means of weakness and debility;
Therefore my age is as a lusty winter,
Frosty, but kindly let me go with you;
I'll do the service of a younger man
In all your business and necessities.

Orla. 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,
Where none will sweat, but for promotion;
And having that, do choke their service up
Even with the having: it is not so with thee.
But, poor old man, thou prun'st a rotten tree,
That cannot so 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 some settled low content.

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.

[Exe.

[2] Blood turned out of the course of nature. JOHNS. To divert a watercourse, that is, to change its course, was a common legal phrase, and an object of Ittigation in Westminster Hall, in our author's time, as it is at present. REED. [3] See Saint Luke, xii. 6, and 24. DOUCE.

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 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.

4

Ros. Well, this is the forest of Arden.

Touch. 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.

Ros. Ay, be it 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.
Sil. O Corin, that thou knew'st how I do love her!
Cor. I partly guess; for I have lov'd ere now.
Sil. No, Corin, being old, thou canst not guess;
Though in 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 lov'd:

Or if thou hast not sat as I do now,

Wearying thy hearer in my mistress' praise,

Thou hast not lov'd:

Or if thou hast not broke from company

[4] A cross was a piece of money stamped with a cross. On this our author is perpetually quibbling. STEEVENS