fpirit of my father, which I think is within me gins to mutiny against this fervitude: I wil longer endure it, though yet I know no wife medy how to avoid it. Enter OLIVER. Adam. Yonder comes my master, your brot Orla. Go apart, Adam, and thou fhalt hear he will shake me up. Oli. Now, fir! what make you here? Orla. Nothing: I am not taught to make thing. Oli. What mar you then, fir? Orla. Marry, fir, I am helping you to mar which God made, a poor unworthy brothe yours, with idlenefs. Oli. Marry, fir, be better employ'd, and rought a while. Orla. Shall I keep your hogs, and eat h with them? What prodigal portion have I f that I fhould come to fuch penury? Oli. Know you where you are, fir? Orla. Ay, better than he, I am before, kn me. I know you are my eldest brother; and the gentle condition of blood, you should fo ki me: The courtesy of nations allows you my ter, in that you are the firft-born; but the fa tradition takes not away my blood, were th twenty brothers betwixt us: I have as much my father in me, as you; albeit, I confess y coming before me is nearer to his reverence. Oli. What, boy! I Orla. Come, come, elder brother, you are too young in this. Oli. Wilt thou lay hands on me, villain? Orla. I am no villain: I am the youngest son of Sir Rowland de Boys; he was my father; and he is thrice a villain, that fays, fuch a father begot rtvillains: Wert thou not my brother, I would not he take this hand from thy throat, 'till this other had pulled out thy tongue for faying fo; thou haft rail'd on thyfelf. all ma Adam. Sweet masters, be patient; for your father's remembrance, be at accord. Oli. Let me go, I say. Orla. I will not, 'till I please: you shall hear me. ot My father charg'd you in his will to give me good education: you have train'd me up like a peafant, a obfcuring and hiding from me all gentleman-like qualities: the fpirit of my father grows ftrong in time, and I will no longer endure it: therefore alI low me fuch exercises as may become a gentleman, or give me the poor allottery my father left me by teftament; with that I will go buy my fortunes. has Oli. And what wilt thou do? beg, when that is fpent? Well, fir, get you ine I will not long be kn troubled with you: you fhall have fome part of your will: I pray you, leave me. nd Orla. I will no further offend you than becomes y me for my good. 1 Oli. Get you with him, you old dog. Adam. Is old dog my reward? Most true, I have ch loft my teeth in your fervice.-God be with my old mafter, he would not have spoke fuch a word. [Exeunt ORLANDO and ADAM. Oli. Is it even fo? begin you to grow upon me? I will phyfick your ranknefs, and yet give no thoufand crowns neither. Holla, Dennis! Enter DENNIS. Den. Calls your worship? Oli. Was not Charles the 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 monfieur Charles !—what's the new news at the new court? Cha. There's no news at the court, fir, but the old news: that is, the old duke is banish'd by his younger brother the new duke; and three or four loving lords have put themselves into voluntary exile with him, whofe lands and revenues enrich the new duke, therefore he gives them good leave to wander. Oli. Can you tell, if Rofalind, the old duke's daughter, be banifh'd with her father? Cha. O, no; for the new duke's daughter, her coufin, fo 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? Cha. They fay, he is already in the forest of Arden, and many merry men with him; and there they they live like the old Robin Hood of England: they fay, many young gentlemen flock to him every day; and fleet the time carelessly, as they did in the golden world. Oli. What, you wrestle to-morrow before the new duke? Cha. Marry, do I, fir; and I came to acquaint you with a matter. I am given, fir, fecretly to understand, that your younger brother Orlando hath a difpofition to come in difguis'd against me to try a fall: To-morrow, fir, I wrestle for my credit; and he that escapes me without fome broken limb, fhall acquit him well. Your brother is but young, and tender; and, for your love, I would be loth to foil him, as I muft, for mine 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 fuch difgrace well as he fhall 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 fhalt find, I will moft kindly requite. I had myself notice of my brother's purpose herein, and have by underhand means laboured to diffuade him from it; but he is refolute. I'll tell thee, Charles-it is the ftubborneft young fellow of France; full of ambition, an envious emulator of every man's good parts, a fecret and villanous contriver against me his natural brother; therefore ufe thy difcretion; I had as lief thou didst break his neck, as his finger; and thou wert beft look to't; for if thou doft him any flight difgrace, or if he do not mightily grace himself on thee, he will practife practife against thee by poifon; entrap thee by fome treacherous device; and never leave thee, 'till he hath ta'en thy life by fome indirect means or other: for, I affure thee, and almost with tears I fpeak it, there is not one fo young and fo villanous this day living. I fpeak but brotherly of him: but fhould 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 fo, God keep your worship! [Exit. Oli. Farewell, good Charles. Now will I ftir this gamefter: I hope I fhall fee an end of him; for my foul, yet I know not why, hates nothing more than he. Yet he's gentle; never-fchool'd, and yet learned; full of noble device; of all forts enchantingly beloved; and, indeed, fo much in the heart of the world, and efpecially of my own people, who best know him, that I am altogether mifprifed: but it fhall not be fo long; this wrestler fhall clear all: nothing remains, but that I kindle the boy thither, which now I'll go about. [Exit. SCENE II. An Open Walk before the Duke's Palace. Enter ROSALIND, and CELIA. Cel. I pray thee, Rofalind, fweet my coz, be merry. Rof. Dear Celia, I fhow more mirth than I am mistress of; and would you yet I were merrier ? Unless you could teach me to forget a banish'd fa ther, |