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'Tis right, quoth he, thus mifery doth part
The flux of company. Anon a careless herd,
Full of the pafture, jumps along by him,
And never ftays to greet him: Ay, quoth Jaques,
Sweep on, you fat and greafy citizens,

'Tis juft the fashion; wherefore do you look
Upon that poor and broken bankrupt there?
Thus moft invectively he pierceth through
The body of the Country, City, Court,
Yea, and of this our life; fwearing, that we
Are meer ufurpers, tyrants, and what's worse,
To fright the animals, and to kill them up
In their affign'd and native dwelling place.
Duke Sen. And did you leave him in this contem-

2 Lord. We did, my lord, weeping and commenting

Upon the fobbing deer.

Duke Sen. Show me the place;


I love to cope him in these fullen fits.

For then he's full of matter.

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



Changes to the PALACE again.

Enter Duke Frederick with Lords.


MAN it be poffible, that no man saw them?


It cannot be. Some villains of my Court Are of consent and fufferance in this.

1 Lord. I cannot hear of any that did fee her,
The ladies, her attendants of her chamber,
Saw her a-bed, and in the morning early
They found the bed untreafur'd of their miftrefs.

to cope him,] To encounter him; to engage with him.
2 Lord.

2 Lord. My lord the roynish Clown, at whom fo

Your Grace was wont to laugh, is alfo miffing.
Hefperia, the Princefs' Gentlewoman,
Confeffes, that the fecretly o'er-heard
Your Daughter and her Coufin much commend
The parts and graces of the Wrestler,
That did but lately foil the finewy 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.



Changes to OLIVER'S Houfe.

Enter Orlando and Adam.

HO's there?


Adam. What!

my gentle mafter,


my young mafter? oh,

Oh, my fweet 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, ftrong, and valiant?
Why would you be fo fond to overcome
The bony 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?

In the former editions, The BONNY Prijer] We should read BONEY Prifer. For this wreftler is characterised for his

ftrength and bulk, not for his gayety or good-humour.

WARBURTON. So Milton, Giants of mighty bone. 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 fon-I will not call him fon
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, fo you come not here. Orla. What wouldst thou have me go and beg my food?

Or with a bafe, and boisterous fword 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 nurse When fervice fhould in my old limbs lie lame, And unregarded age in corners thrown. Take That: and he that doth the ravens feed, Yea, providently caters for the fparrow,


diverted blood.] Blood turned out of the course of nature.

Be comfort to my age! Here is the gold,
All this I give you, let me be your fervant;
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;
Therefore my age is as a lufty winter,
Frofty, but kindly. Let me go with you;
I'll do the fervice of a younger man
In all your bufinefs and neceffities.

Orla. Oh! good old man, how well in thee appears
The conftant fervice of the antique world;
When service sweat for duty, not for meed!
Thou art not for the fashion of thefe times,
Where none will fweat, but for promotion;
And, having That, do cloak their fervice up
Even with the Having. It is not fo with thee.
But poor old man, thou prun'ft a rotten tree,
That cannot so much as a bloffom 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 fome fettled low Content.

Adam. Mafter, go on; and I will follow thee
To the laft gafp with truth and loyalty.
From feventeen years 'till now almoft fourfcore
Here lived I, but now live here no more.
At feventeen years many their fortunes feek;
But at four core, it is too late a week ;
Yet fortune cannot recompence me better
Than to die well, and not my mafter's debtor.


5 Even with the having.] Even with the promotion gained by fervice is fervice extinguifhed.




Changes to the FOREST of Arden.

Enter Rofalind in Boys cloaths for Ganimed, Celia dreft like a Shepherdess for Aliena, and Touchstone the Clown.


Jupiter! how weary are my spirits®?

Clo. I care not for my fpirits, if my legs

were not weary.

Rof. I could find in my heart to difgrace my man's apparel, and cry like a woman; but I must comfort the weaker veffel, as doublet and hofe ought to show itfelf courageous to petticoat; therefore, courage, good


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 cross, if I did bear you; for, I think you have no money in your purse. Rof. Well, this is the foreft of Arden.

Clo. 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.

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

Enter Corin and Silvius.

Cor. That is the way to make her scorn you ftill.

"O Jupiter! how merry are my Spirits? And yet, within the Space of one intervening Line, She fays, She could find in her Heart to difgrace her Man's Apparel, and cry like a Woman. Sure, this is but a very bad Symptom of the Brifkness of Spirits:

rather a direct Proof of the contrary Difpofition. Mr. Warbur ton and I, concurred in conjecturing it fhould be, as I have reformed in the Text: bow weary are my Spirits? And the Clown's Reply makes this Reading certain.


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