education you have train'd me like a peasant, obscuring and hiding from me all gentleman-like qualities: The spirit of my father grows strong in me, and I will no longer endure it; therefore, allow me such exercises as may become a gentleman, or give me the poor allottery my father left me by testament with that I will go buy my fortunes. Oli. And what wilt thou do? Leg, when that is spent? Well, sir, get you in: I will not long be troubled with you; you shall have some part of your will: I pray you, leave me. Orl. 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 1ost my teeth in your service. - God be with my old master! he would not have spoke such a word. [Exeunt ORLANDO and ADAM. Oli. Is it even so? begin you to grow upon me? I will physic your rankness, and yet give no thousand crowns neither. Hola, Dennis! Enter DENNIS. Den. Ca'ls your worship? Oli. Was not Charles, t) e duke's wrestler, here to speak with me? Den. So please you, he is here at the door, and importunes access 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 worship. Oli. Good monsieur 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 banished by his younger brother the new duke; and three or four loving lords have put themselves into voluntary exile with him, whose lands and revenues enrich the new duke; therefore, he gives them good leave to wander. Oli. Can you tell, if Rosalind, the Duke's daugh ter, be banished with her father? Cha. O! no; for the duke's daughter, her cousin, so loves her, being ever from their cradles bred together, that she would have followed her exile, or have died to stay behind her. She is at the court, and no less beloved of her uncle than his own daughter; and never two ladies loved as they do. Oli. Where will the old Duke live? 8 Cha. They say he is already in the forest of Arden, and a many merry men with him; and there they live like the old Robin Hood of England. That is, the usurping duke's daughter. • Ardenne is a forest of considerable extent in French Flanders, lying near the river Meuse, and between Charlemont and Rocroy. Spenser, in his Colin Clout, mentions it. "So wide a forest, and so waste as this, Not famous Ardeyn, nor foul Arlo was." In Lodge's Rosalynde the exiled king of France is said to be living as "an outlaw in the forest of Arden." This prince of outlaws and "most gentle theefe" lived in the time of Richard I., and had his chief residence in Sherwood forest, Notinghamshire. Wordsworth aptly styles him "the English ballad-singer's joy ;" and in Percy's Reliques is an old ballad entitled Robin Hood and Guy of Gisborne, showing how his praises were wont to be sung. Of his mode of life the best account that we have seen is in the twenty-sixth song of Dray ton's Poly-Olbion, where the nymph of Sherwood forest, All se.f-praise set apart, determineth to sing That lusty Robin Hood, who long time like a king They say many young gentlemen flock to him every day, and fleet the time carelessly, as they did in the golden world.1o Within her compass liv'd, and when he list to range Slept many a summer's night under the greenwood tree. But to his mistress dear, his loved Marian, Was ever constant known, which, wheresoe'er she came, Robin Hood's mode of life is well set forth in Ben Jonson's Sad H. 10 Of this fabled golden age,- an ancient and very general tradition wherein the state of man in Paradise appears to have been shadowed, -some notion is given in Gonzalo's Commonwealth, The Tempest, Act ii. sc. 1, and note 12. The matter is further illustrated by a passage in Fanshawe's version of Guarini's Pastor Fido Fair golden age! when milk was th' only food, Rock'd by the winds; and th' untouch'd flocks did bear Oli. What, you wrestle to-morrow before the new duke? Cha. Marry, do I, sir; and I came to acquaint you with a matter. I am given, sir, secretly to understand, that your younger brother, Orlando, bath a disposition to come in disguis'd against me to try a fall: To-morrow, sir, I wrestle for my credit; and he that escapes me without some broken limb, shall acquit him well. Your brother is but young and tender; and, for your love, I would be loth to foil him, as I must, for my 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 such disgrace well as he shall run into; in that it is a thing of his own search, and altogether against my will. Oli. Charles, I thank thee for thy love to me, which thou shalt find I will most kindly requite. I had myself notice of my brother's purpose herein, and have by underhand means laboured to dissuade him from it; but he is resolute. I'll tell thee, Charles, -it is the stubbornest young fellow of France; full of ambition, an envious emulator of every man's good parts, a secret and villainous contriver against The sword or poison: no black thoughts begun Nor wand'ring pines unto a foreign shore Which they call honour, whom ambition blinds, H me his natural brother; therefore, use thy discretion: I had as lief thou didst break his neck as his finger and thou wert best look to't; for if thou dost him any slight disgrace, or if he do not mightily grace himself on thee, he will practise against thee by poison, entrap thee by some treacherous device, and never leave thee till he hath ta'en thy life by some indirect means or other: for I assure thee, and almost with tears I speak it, there is not one so young and so villainous this day living. I speak but brotherly of him; but should I anatomize him to thee as he is, I must blush and weep, and thou must look pale and wonder. Cha. I am heartily 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 wrestle for prize more And so, God keep your worship! [Exit. Oli. Farewell, good Charles. Now will I stir this gamester." I hope I shall see an end of him; for my soul, yet I know not why, hates nothing more than he: Yet he's gentle; never school'd, and yet learned; full of noble device; of all sorts enchantingly beloved; and, indeed, so much in the heart of the world, and especially of my own people, who best know him, that I am altogether misprised: But it shall not be so long; this wrestler shall clear all nothing remains, but that I kindle 12 the boy thither, which now I'll go about.13 [Exit. 11 That is, frolicsome fellow. 12 Spur him on. Thus, in Macbeth: "That, trusted home might yet enkindle you unto the crown." 13 Upon this passage Coleridge has a very characteristic remark: "It is too venturous to charge a passage in Shakespeare with want of truth to nature; and yet at first sight this speech of Oliver's expresses truths, which it seems almost impossible that |