SCENE II. Enter Oliver, Adam. Yonder comes my mafter, your brother. Orla. Go apart, Adam, and thou shalt hear how he will shake me up. Oli. Now, Sir, what make ye here? Orla. Nothing: I am not taught to make any thing. Oli. What mar ye then, Sir? 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 better employ'd, and be nought a while +. 4 Be 'better employ'd and be nought a while.] Mr. Theobald has here a very critical note; which, though his modefty fuffered him to withdraw it from his fecond edition, deferves to be perpetuated, i. e. (fays he) be better employed, in my opinion, in being and doing nothing. Your idlenes as you call it may be an exercife, by which you may make a figure, and endear your felf to the world: and I had rather you were a contemptible Cypher. The poet Jeems to me to have that trite proverbial fentiment in his eye quoted, from Attilius, by the younger Pliny and others; fatius eft otiofum effe quàm nihil agere. But Oliver in the perverfenefs of his difpofition would reverse the doctrine of the proverb. Does the Read Orla. er know what all this means? But 'tis no matter. I will affure him-be nought a while is only a north-country proverbial curfe equivalent to, a mischief on you. So the old Poet Skelton." Correct firft thy felfe, walke and BE NOUGHT, Deeme what thou lift, thou know eft not my thought. But what the Oxford Editor could not explain, he would amend, and reads, and do aught a while. WARBURTON. If be nought a while has the fignification here given it,. the reading may certainly stand; but,. till I learned its meaning from this note, I read, Orla. Shall I keep your hogs, and eat bufks with them? what Prodigal's portion have I spent, that I fhould come to fuch penury? Oli. Know you where you are, Sir? Orla. O, Sir, very well; here in your Orchard. 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 fhould fo know me. The courtesy of nations allows you my better, in that you 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; albeit, I confefs your coming before me is nearer to his reverence'. us. Oli. What, boy! [menacing with his hand, Orla. Come, come, elder brother, you are too young in this. [collaring him, Oli. Wilt thou lay hands on me, villain? Orla. I am no villain: I am the youngest fon of Sir Rowland de Boys; he was my father, and he is be better employed, and be naught intended a fatirical reflection on a while. In the fame fenfe as we say it is better to do mischief, than to do nothing. 5 Albeit, I confefs your coming before me is nearer to his REVERENCE.] This is fenfe indeed, and may be thus understood, The reverence due to my father is, in fome degree, derived to you, as the first born-But I am perfuaded that Orlando did not here mean to compliment his brother, or condemn himself; fomething of both which there is in that fenfe. I rather think he his brother, who by letting him feed with his binds treated him as one not fo 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, i. e. though you are no nearer in blood, yet it must be owned, indeed, you are nearer in estate. WARBURTON. 6 I am no villain.] The word villain is ufed by the elder brother, in its prefent meaning, for a wicked or bloody man; by Orlando, in its original fignification, for a fellow of base extraction. thrice thrice a villain, that fays, fuch a father begot villains. Wert thou not my brother, I would not take this hand from thy throat, 'till this other had pulled out thy tongue for faying fo; thou haft rail'd on thyself. Adam. Sweet inafters, be patient; for your father's remembrance, be at accord. Oli. Let me go, I fay. Orla. I will not 'till I pleafe. You fhall hear me: My father charged you in his Will to give me good education; you have train'd me up like a peafant, obfcuring and hiding from me all gentleman-like qualities. The Spirr of my father grows ftrong in me, and I will no longer endure it: therefore allow me fuch exercises as may become a gentleman, or give me the poor allottery my father left me by teftament; with that I will go buy my fortunes. Oli, And what wilt thou do? beg, when that is fpent? Well, Sir, get you in-I will not long be troubled with you: you fhall have fome part of your will. 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 fervice. God be with my old mafter, he would not have fpoke fuch a word. [Exe. Orlando and Adam. SCENE III. Oli. Is it even fo?-Begin you to grow upon me? -I will phyfick your ranknefs, and yet give no thou fand crowns neither. Holla, Dennis! Enter Dennis. Den. Calls your Worship? B 4 Qli. Oli. Was not Charles, the Duke's Wrestler, here to fpeak with me? Den. So please you, he is here at the door, and importunes accefs to you. Oli. Call him in [Exit Dennis.] "Twill be a good way; and to-morrow the wrestling is. Enter Charles. Cha. Good morrow to your Wonhip. Oli. Good monfieur Charles, what's the new news at the new Court? Cha. There's no news at the Court, Sir, but the old news; that is, the old Duke is banish'd by his younger brother the new Duke, and three or four lov ing lords have put themfelves into voluntary exile with him; whofe lands and revenues enrich the new Duke, therefore he gives them good leave to wander. Oli. Can you tell, if Rofalind, the old Duke's daughter', be banish'd with her father? Cha. O, no; for the new Duke's daughter her coufin fo loves her, being ever from their cradles bred together, that the would have followed her exile, or have died to ftay behind her. She is at the Court, and no lefs 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 fay, he is already in the foreft of Arden, and a many merry men with him; and there they live like the old Robin Hood of England. They fay, many young gentlemen flock to him every day, and fleet the time carelefly, as they did in the golden world. Oli. What, you wreftle to-morrow before the new Duke? The old Duke's daughter.] of the dialogue, are inferted from The words old and new, which Sir T. Hanmer's Edition. feem neceffary to the perfpicuity Cha. 1 Cha. Marry, do I, Sir; and I came to acquaint you with a matter. I am given, Sir, fecretly to underftand, that your younger brother Orlando hath a difpofition to come in difguis'd against me to try a Fall. To-morrow, Sir, I wrestle for my credit; and he, that efcapes me without fome broken limb, fhall acquit him well. Your brother is but young and tender, and for your love I would be loth to foil him; as I muft for mine own honour, if he come in. Therefore out of my love to you, I came hither to acquaint you withal; that either you might stay him from his intendment, or brook fuch difgrace well as he fhall run into; in that it is a thing of his own fearch, and altogether against my will. Oli. Charles, I thank thee for thy love to me, which thou fhalt find, I will moft kindly requite. I had myfelf notice of my brother's purpofe herein, and have by under-hand means laboured to diffuade him from it; but he is refolute. I tell thee, Charles, he is the ftubbornest young fellow of France; full of ambition, an envious emulator of every man's good parts, a fecret and villainous contriver againft me his natural brother. Therefore ufe thy difcretion; I had as lief thou didft break his neck, as his finger. And thou wert best look to't; for if thou doft him any flight difgrace, or if he do not mightily grace himself on thee, he will practise against thee by poison; entrap thee by fome treacherous device; and never leave thee, 'till he hath ta'en thy life by fome indirect means or other; for I affure thee, (and almost with tears I speak it) there is not one fo young and fo villanous this day living. I fpeak but brotherly of him; but should I anatomize him to thee as he is, I muft bluth and weep, and thou: must look pale and wonder. Cha. I am beartily glad, I came hither to you. If he come to morrow, I'll give him his payment; if ever he go alone again, I'll never wreftle for prize more. And fo, God keep your Worship. [Exit. Oli. Fare |