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Envenoms him that bears it!

Orl. Why, what's the matter?

O unhappy youth! 16

Come not within these 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 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.





Orl. Why, whither, Adam, wouldst thou have me go?

Adam. No matter whither, so you come not here.

Orl. What! wouldst thou have me go and beg my


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
Of a diverted blood and bloody brother.
Adam. But do not so.
I 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.

15 Envenoms: proves poisonous to; cf. n.

23 use: are wont


26 practices: stratagems

27 place: residence butchery: shambles; cf. n.

37 diverted blood; cf. n. 39 thrifty. . . sav'd: hire I thriftily saved 42 in corners thrown: (lie) cast aside

Take that; and He that doth the ravens feed,
Yea, providently caters for the sparrow,
Here is the gold;

Be comfort to my age!

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.

Orl. 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:

43 ravens; cf. n.

51 means: causes

58 meed: reward

67 youthful: i.e., earned in youth

50 Nor

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53 kindly: seasonable, healthful 65 In lieu of: in return for 74 a week; cf. n.

Yet fortune cannot recompense me better
Than to die well and not my master's debtor.



Scene Four

[The Forest of Arden]

Enter Rosalind for Ganymede, Celia for Aliena, and Clown, alias 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 it 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.

Ros. Well, this is the forest of Arden. Touch. Ay, now am I in Arden; the more fool I when I was at home, I was in a better place: but travellers must be content.

Enter Corin and Silvius.

Ros. Ay, be so, good Touchstone.

Look you,

who comes here; a young man and an old in

solemn talk.

Scene Four S. d. for: i.e., dressed to represent

12 cross. . . money; cf. n.





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,

Wearing thy hearer with thy mistress' praise,
Thou hast not lov'd:

Or if thou hast not broke from company
Abruptly, as my passion now makes me,
Thou hast not lov'd. O Phebe, Phebe, Phebe!







Ros. Alas, poor shepherd! searching of thy wound, I have by hard adventure found mine own.


Touch. 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-night to Jane Smile; and I remember the kissing of her batler, and the cow's dugs that her pretty chopped hands had milked; and I remember the wooing of a 50 peascod instead of her, from whom I took two

31 fantasy: imagination

43 thy wound; cf. n.

38 Wearing: wearing out 44 adventure: hazard, chance

48 batler: bat for beating clothes in the process of washing

49 chopped: chapped

51 peascod; cf. n.

cods, and giving her them again, said with weeping tears, 'Wear these for my sake.' We that are true lovers run into strange capers; but as all is mortal in nature, so is all nature in love mortal in folly.

Ros. Thou speakest wiser than thou art ware of.

Touch. Nay, I shall ne'er be ware of mine own wit till I break my shins against it.

Ros. Jove, Jove! this shepherd's passion

Is much upon my fashion.

Touch. And mine; but it grows something stale with me.

Cel. I pray you, one of you question yond man, If he for gold will give us any food:

I faint almost to death.


Holla, you clown!

Ros. Peace, fool: he's not thy kinsman.


Touch. Your betters, sir.





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Else are they very wretched.

Ros. Peace, I say. Good even to you, friend.
Cor. And to you, gentle sir, and to you all.

Ros. I prithee, shepherd, if that love or gold 72
Can in this desert place buy entertainment,
Bring us where we may rest ourselves and feed.
Here's a young maid with travel much oppress'd,
And faints for succour.


Fair sir, I pity her,

And wish, for her sake more than for mine own,
My fortunes were more able to relieve her;

But I am shepherd to another man,

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59 be ware: beware

mortal in folly: deadly foolish 67 clown: peasant

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