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SCENE II. The Palace.

Enter Duke with Lords.

Duke. Can it be poffible that no Man faw them?
It cannot be; fome Villains of my Court
Are of Confent and Sufferance in this.

Lord. I cannot hear of any that did fee her.
The Ladies, her Attendants of her Chamber,
Saw her abed, and in the Morning early
They found the Bed untreafur'd of their Miftrefs.

2 Lord. My Lord, the roynish Clown, at whom fo oft Your Grace was wont to laugh, is alfo miffing: Hifperia, the Princefs Gentlewoman,

Confeffes that fhe fecretly o'er-heard

Your Daughter and her Coufin much commend
The Parts and Graces of the Wrestler
That did but lately foil the finowy Charles,
And the believes where-ever they are gone,
That Youth is furely in their Company.

Duke. Send to his Brother, fetch that Gallant hither,
If he be abfent, bring his Brother to me,
I'll make him find him; do this fuddenly,
And let not Search and Inquifition quail
To bring again thefe foolish Runaways.

[Exeunt.

SCENE III. Oliver's House.

Enter Orlando and Adam.

Orla. Who's there?

Adam. What my young Mafter, oh my gentle Mafter, Oh my fweet Mafter, 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, ftrong, and valiant?
Why would you be fo fond to overcome
The bonny Prifer of the humorous Duke ?
Your Praife is come too fwiftly Home before you.
Know you not, Mafter, to fome kind of Men
Their Graces ferve them but as Enemies;

No

No more do yours; your Virtues, gentle Mafter
Are fanctified and holy Traitors to you:

Oh 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 thefe Doors; within this Roof
The Enemy of all your Graces 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 Praifes, and this Night he means
To burn the Lodging where you ufe to lye,
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 Houfe 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 boiftrous Sword enforce

A thievifh living on the common Road?
This I muft do, or know not what to do:
Yet this I will not do, do how I can';
I rather will fubject 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 Nurfe,
When Service should in my old Limbs lye lame,
And unregarded Age in Corners thrown;
Take that, and he that doth the Ravens feed,
Yea providently caters for the Sparrow,
Be Comfort to my Age; here. is the Gold,
All this I give you, let me be your Servant,
Tho' I look old, yet I am ftrong 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;
L 4

Therefore

Therefore my Age is as a lufty Winter,
Frofty, but kindly; let me go with you,
I'll do the Service of a younger Man
In all your Bufinefs and Neceffities.

Orla. Oh good old Man, how well in thee appears
The conftant Service of the antick World;
When Service sweat for Duty, not for Need!
Thou art not for the Fashion of these times,
Where none will fweat, but for Promotion,
And having that, do choak their Service 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 e'er we have thy youthful Wages fpent,
We'll light upon fome fetled low Content.

Adam. Mafter go on, and I will follow thee
To the laft Gafp with Truth and Loyalty.
From seventeen Years 'till now almoft fourfcore
Here lived I, but now live here no more.
At feventeen Years many their Fortunes feek,
But at fourscore, it is too late a Week;
Yet Fortune cannot recompence me better
Than to die well, and not my Master's Debter.

SCENE IV. The Foreft.

[Exeunt,

Enter Rofalind in Boys Cloaths for Ganimed, Celia dreft like a Shepherdefs for Aliena, and Clown.

Ref. O Jupiter, how merry are my Spirits ?

Clo. I care not for my Spirits, if my Legs were not weary.

Rof. I could find in my Heart to disgrace my Man's Apparel, and cry like a Woman; but I muft comfort the weaker Veffel, as Doublet and Hofe ought to how it felf Courageous to a Petticoat; therefore Courage, good Aliena.

Cel. I pray you bear with me, I can 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.

Ref.

Rof. Well, this is the Forest of Arden.

Clown. Ay, now am I in Arden, the more Fool I, when I was at home I was in a better Place; but Travellers muft be content.

Enter Corin and Silvius.

Rof. Ay, be fo, good Touchstone; look you who comes here, a young Man and an old, in folemn talk.

Cor. That is the way to make her fcorn you ftill.
Sil. O Corin, that thou knew'ft how I do love her.
Cor. I partly guefs, for I have lov'd e'er now.
Sil. No Corin, being old, thou can'st not guess,
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 moft ridiculous
Haft thou been drawn to by thy Fantafie?

Cor. Into a thoufand that I have forgotten.
Sil. Oh thou didst then ne'er love so heartily;
If thou remembreft not the flighted 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 thy 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 Sil.

Ref. Alas poor Shepherd! fearching of thy Wound, I have by hard Adventure found mine own.

Clo. And I mine; I remember when I was in Love, I broke my Sword upon a Stone, and bid him take that for coming a Nights to Jane Smile; and I remember the Kiffing of her Batlet, and the Cow's Dugs that her pretty chopt Hands had milk'd; and I remember the wooing of a Pealcod inftead of her, from whom I took two Cods, and giving her them again, faid with weeping Tears, wear thefe for my fake; we that are true Lovers run into ftrange Capers; but all is Mortal in Nature, fo is all Nature in Love mortal to Folly.

Rof.

Rof. Thou fpeak'st wiser than thou art ware of.

Clo. Nay, I fhall ne'er be ware of mine own Wit, 'till Į break my Shins against it.

Rof. Jove! Jove! this Shepherd's Paffion

Is much upon my Fashion.

Clo. And mine, but it grows fomething stale with me. Cel. I pray you, one of you queftion 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 wretched.

Rof. Peace I fay; good Even to you, Friend.
Cor. And to you, gentle Sir, and to you all.
Rof. I prethee, Shepherd, if that Love or Gold
Can in this defert Place buy Entertainment;
Bring us where we may reft our felves, and feed;
Here's a young Maid with Travel much oppreffed,
And faints for Succour.

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 a Shepherd to another Man,
And do not sheer the Fleeces that I graze;
My Master is of churlish Difpofition,

And little wreaks to find the way to Heav'n
By doing Deeds of Hospitality:

Befides, his Coat, his Flocks, and Bounds of feed
Are now on Sale, and at our Sheep-coat now,
By reafon of his abfence, there is nothing
That you will feed on; but what is, come fee,

And in my Voice most welcome shall you be.

T

Rof. What is he that fhall buy his Flock and Pafture?

Cor. That young Swain that you faw here but e'er while, That little cares for buying any thing.

Rof. I pray thee, if it ftand with Honefty,

Buy thou the Cottage, Pafture, and the Flock,
And thou shalt have to pay for it of us,

Cel

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