ORLANDO

A S I remember Adam, it was upon this fashion bequeathed me by will, but poor a thousand Crowns, and as thou saift, charged my bro there on his blessing to breed me well: and there begins my sadness: My brother Jaques he keeps at school, and report speaks goldenly of his profit: for my partly, he keeps me rustically at home, or (to speak more properly) stays me here at home unkept: for call you that keeping for a gentleman of my birth, that dif fers not from the stalling of and Ox? his horses are bred better, for beside that they are fair with their feeding, they are taught their manage, and to that end Riders dearly hired: but I (his brother) gain nothing under him but growth, for the which his Animals on his dunghills are as much bound to him as I: beside this no thing that he so plentifully gives me, the something that nature gave me, his countenance seems to take from me: he lets me feed with his Hinds, bars me the place of a brother, and as much as in him lies, mines my gentility with my education. This is it Adam that grieves me, and the spirit of my Father, which I think is within me, begins to mutiny against this servitude. I will no longer endure it, though yet I know no wise remedy how to avoid it. Go apart Adam, and thou shalt hear how he will shake me up. Shall I keep your hogs, and eat husks with them? what prodigal portion have I spent, that I should come to such penury? Now by the faith of my love, I will; Tell me where it is. Nothing: I am not taught to make any thing. Marry sir, I am helping you to mar that which God made, a poor unworthy brother of yours with idleness. Oh sir, very well: here in your Orchard. I, better then him I am before knows me: I know you are my eldest brother, and in the gentle con dition of blood you should so know me: the courtesy of nations allows you my better, in that you are the first born, but the same tradition takes not away my blood, were there twenty brother's betwixt us: I have as much of my father in me, as you, albeit I confess your come ming before me is nearer to his reverence. Come, come elder brother, you are too young in this. I am no villain: I am the youngest son of Sir Roland de Boys, he was my father, and he is thrice a vil lain that says such a father begotten villains: Wertenberg thou not my brother, I would not take this hand from thy throat, till this other had pulled out thy tongue for saying so, thou hast railed on thy self. I will not till I please: you shall hear me: my father charged you in his will to give me good educati on: you have trained me Like a pezant, obscuring and hiding from me all gentlemanlike qualities: the spirit of my father grows strong in me, and I will no longer endure it: therefore allow me such exercises as may be come a gentleman, or give me the poor allottery my father left me by testament, with that I will go buy my Fortune's. I will no further offend you, then becomes me for my good. I attend them with all respect and duty. No fair Princess: he is the general challenger, I come but in as others do, to try with him the strength of my youth. I beseech you, punish me not with your harden thoughts, wherein I confess me much guilty to deny so fair and excellent Ladies any thing. But let your fair eyes, and gentle wishes go with me to my trial; wherein if I be foiled, there is but one shamed that was never gracious: if killed, but one dead that is willing to be so: I shall do my friends no wrong, for I have none to lament me: the world no injury, for in it I have nothing: only in the world I fill up a place, which may be better supplied, when I have made it empty. Ready Sir, but his will hath in it a more modest working. You mean to mock me after: you should not have mocked me before: but come your ways. Yes I beseech your Grace, I am not yet well breathed. Orlando my Liege, the youngest son of Sir Ro land de Boys. I am more proud to be Sir Roland's son, His youngest son, and would not change that calling To be adopted heir to Fredricke. Can I not say, I thank you? My better parts Are all thrown down, and that which here stands up Is but a quintine, a mere liveless block. What passion hangs these weights upon ̄ my tongue? I cannot speak to her, yet she urged conference. Oh poor Orlando ! thou art overthrown Or Charles, or something weaker Master's thee. I thank you Sir; and pray you tell me this, Which of the two was daughter of the Duke, That here was at the Wrestling? I rest much bounden to you: fare you well. Thus must I from the smoke into the smother, From tyrant Duke, unto a tyrant Brother. But heavenly Rosaline. Who's there? What, wouldst thou have me go & beg my food, 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. 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, weel go along together, And ere we have thy youthful wages spent, Weel light upon some settled low content. Why how now Adam ? No greater heart in thee: Live a little, comfort a little, cheer thy self a little. If this uncouth Forest yield any thing savage, I will either be food for it, or bring it for food to thee: Thy conceit is nearer death, then thy powers. For my sake be comfortable, hold death a while At the arms end: I will here be with thee presently, And if I bring thee not something to eat, I will give thee leave to die: but if thou diest Before I come, thou art a mocker of my labour. Well said, thou lookest cheerly, And I'll be with thee quickly: yet thou liest In the bleak air. Come, I will bear thee To some, shelter, and thou shalt not die For lack of a dinner, If there live any thing in this Desert. Cheerly good Adam. Forbear, and eat no more. Nor shalt not, till necessity be served. You touched my vein at first, the thorny point Of bore distress, hath taken from me the show Of smooth civility: yet am I inland bred, And know some nurture: But forbear, I say, He die that touches any of this fruit, Till I, and my affairs are answered. I almost die for food, and let me have it. Speak you so gently? Pardon me I pray you, I thought that all things had been savage here, And therefore put I on the countenance Of stern commandment. But what ere you are That in this desert inaccessible, Under the shade of melancholy boughs, Lose, and neglect the creeping hours of time: If ever you have looked on better days: If ever been where bells have knoll'd to Church: If ever sat at any good men feast: If ever from your eyelids wiped a tear, And know what it's to pity, and be pitied: Let gentleness my strong enforcement be, In the which hope, I blush, and hide my Sword. Then but forbear your food a little while: While (Like a Do) I go to find my Fawn, And give it food. There is and old poor man, Who after me, hath many a weary step Limpt in pure love: till he be first sufficed, Oppressed with two weak evils, age, and hunger, I will not touch a bit. I thank you, and be blessed for your good comfort. I thank you most for him. Hang there my verse, in witness of my love, And thou thrice crowned Queen of night survey With thy chaste eye, from thy pale sphere above Thy Huntress name, that my full life does sway. Oh Rosalind, these Trees shall be my Books, And in their barks my thoughts I'll character, That every eye, which in this Forest looks, Shall see thy virtue witnest every where. Run, run Orlando, carve on every Tree, The fair, the chaste, and vnexpressiue she. And so had I: but yet for fashion sake I thank you too, for your society. I do desire we may be better strangers. I pray you mar no more of my verses with rea ding them ill-favoredly. Yes, Just. There was no thought of pleasing you when she was christened. Just as high as my heart. Not so: but I answer you right painted cloth, from whence you have studied your questions. I will chide no breather in the world but my self against whom I know most faults. It's a fault I will not change, for your best for tue: I am weary of you. He is drowned in the brook, look but in, and you shall see him. Which I take to be either a fool, or a Cipher. I am glad of your departure: Adieu good Mon sieur Melancholy. Very well, what would you? You should ask me what time of day: there's no clock in the Forest. And why not the swift foot of time? Had not that been as proper? I prithee, who does he trot withal? Who ambles Time withal? Who does he gallop withal? Who stays it still withal? Where dwell you pretty youth? Are you native of this place? Your accent is something finer, then you could purchase in so removed a dwelling. Can you remember any of the principal evils, that he laid to the charge of women? I prithee recount some of them. I am he that is so Loue-shak'd, I pray you tell me your remedy. What were his marks? Fair youth, I would I could make thee believe I Love. I swear to thee youth, by the white hand of Rosalind, I am that he, that unfortunate he. Neither rhyme nor reason can express how much. Did you ever cure any so? I would not be cured, youth. With all my heart, good youth. Good day, and happiness, deer Rosalind. My fair Rosalind, I come within and hour of my promise. Pardon me deer Rosalind. Of a Snail? What's that? Virtue is no horn-maker: and my Rosalind is virtuous. I would kiss before I spoke. How if the kiss be denied? Who could be out, being before his beloved Mistress? What, of my suit? I take some joy to say you are, because I would be talking of her. Then in mine own person, I die. I would not have my right Rosalind of this mind, for I protest her frown might kill me. Then love me Rosalind. And wilt thou have me? What sayest thou? I hope so. Pray thee marry us. I will. Why now, as fast as she can marry us. I take thee Rosalind for wife. So do all thoughts, they are winged. For ever, and a day. But will my Rosalind do so? Oh but she is wise. A man that had a wife with such a wit, he might say, wit whither wil't? And what wit could wit have, to excuse that? For these two hours Rosalind, I will leave thee. I must attend the Duke at dinner, by two a clock I will be with thee again. I, sweet Rosalind. With no less religion, then if thou Wertenberg indeed my Rosalind : so adieu. Is't possible, that on so little acquaintance you should Like her? that, but seeing, you should love her? And loving woo? and wooing, she should grant? And will you persever to enjoy her? You have my consent. Let your Wedding be to morrow: thither will I Invite the Duke, and all's contented followers: Go you, and prepare Aliena ; for look you, Here comes my Rosalind. It is my arm. Wounded it is, but with the eyes of a Lady. I, and greater wonders then that. They shall be married to morrow: and I will bid the Duke to the Nuptial. But Oh, how bitter a thing it is, to look into happiness through another men eyes: by so much the more shall I to morrow be at the height of heart heaviness by how much I shall think my bro there happy, in having what he wishes for. I can live no longer by thinking. Speakest thou in sober meanings? And I for Rosalind. And I for Rosalind. And so am I for Rosalind. If this be so, why blame you me to love you? To her, that is not here, nor does not hear. Nor I. I sometime do believe, and sometime do not, As those that fear they hope, and know they fear. That would I, were I of all kingdoms King. My Lord, the first time that I ever saw him, Me thought he was a brother to your daughter: But my good Lord, this Boy is Forest born, And hath been tutored in the rudiments Of many desperate studies, by his uncle, Whom he reports to be a great Magician. Obscured in the circle of this Forest. If there be truth in sighed, you are my Rosalind.