Than doth your brother that hath banish'd you.
To-day, my lord of Amiens, and myself,

Did steal behind him, as he lay along

Under an oak, whose antique root peeps out
Upon the brook that brawls along this wood:
To the which place a poor sequester'd stag,
That from the hunters' aim had ta'en a hurt,
Did come to languish; and, indeed, my lord,
The wretched animal heaved forth such groans,
That their discharge did stretch his leathern coat
Almost to bursting; and the big round tears
Coursed one another down his innocent nose
In piteous chase: and thus the hairy fool,
Much marked of the melancholy Jaques,

Stood on the extremest verge of the swift brook,
Augmenting it with tears.

Duke S.

But what said Jaques ?

Did he not-moralise this spectacle?

1 Lord. O, yes, into a thousand similes.

First, for his weeping in the needless stream;

1

'Poor deer,' quoth he, thou makest a testament

As worldlings do, giving thy sum of more

To that which had too much.' Then, being there

alone,

Left and abandon'd of his velvet friends;

''Tis right,' quoth he; 'thus misery doth part The flux of company.' Anon, a careless herd, Full of the pasture, jumps along by him,

1 The stream that needed not such a supply of moisture.

And never stays to greet him; 'Ay,' quoth Jaques,
'Sweep on, you fat and greasy citizens;
'Tis just the fashion: wherefore do you look
Upon that poor and broken bankrupt there?'
Thus most invectively he pierceth through
The body of country, city, court,

Yea, and of this our life; swearing, that we
Are mere usurpers, tyrants, and what's worse,
To fright the animals, and to kill them up,

In their assign'd and native dwelling-place.

Duke S. And did you leave him in this contemplation ?

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

Upon the sobbing deer.

Duke S.

Show me the place :

I love to cope 1 him in these sullen fits,

For then he's full of matter.

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

SCENE II.

A room in the palace.

Enter DUKE FREDERICK, LORDS, and Attendants.

Duke F. Can it be possible that no man saw them?

It cannot be some villains of my court

Are of consent and sufferance in this.

1 Encounter.

1 Lord. I cannot hear of any that did see her. The ladies, her attendants of her chamber, Saw her a-bed; and, in the morning early, They found the bed untreasured of their mistress. 2 Lord. My lord, the roynish1 clown, at whom so oft

Your grace was wont to laugh, is also missing.
Hesperia, the princess' gentlewoman,
Confesses, that she secretly o'erheard

Your daughter and her cousin much commend
The parts and graces of the wrestler
That did but lately foil the sinewy Charles;

And she believes, wherever they are gone,

That youth is surely in their company.

Duke F. Send to his brother; fetch that gallant hither;

If he be absent, bring his brother to me;
I'll make him find him: do this suddenly;
And let not search and inquisition quail?
To bring again these foolish runaways.

[Exeunt.

SCENE III.

Before Oliver's house.

Enter ORLANDO and adam, meeting.

Orl. Who's there?

Adam. What! my young master?—O, my gentle

master!

1 Scurvy.

2 Faint, be wanting.

O, my sweet master! O, you memory

1

Of old sir Rowland! why, what make you here? Why are you virtuous? Why do people love you? And wherefore are you gentle, strong, and valiant? Why would you be so fond 2 to overcome

The bony priser 3 of the humorous duke?

Your praise is come too swiftly home before you.
Know you not, master, to some kind of men
Their graces serve them but as enemies?

No more do yours; your virtues, gentle master,
Are sanctified and holy traitors to you.

O, what a world is this, when what is comely
Envenoms him that bears it!

Orl. Why, what's the matter?

Adam.

O unhappy youth! 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.

• Memorial.
3 Prize-fighter.

2 Indiscreet.

4 Mansion, residence.

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

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,1 and bloody brother.

Adam. But do not so: I have five hundred

crowns,

The thrifty hire I saved 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 :
Take that; and He that doth the ravens feed,
Yea, providently caters for the sparrow,
Be comfort to my age! Here is the gold;
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;

1 Blood turned out of the course of nature.