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ADAM

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

       O my sweet 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, strong, and valiant?

       Why would you be so fond to overcome

       The bonny prizer 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!

       ORLANDO

       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.

       ORLANDO

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

       ADAM

       No matter whither, so you come not here.

       ORLANDO

       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 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;

       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;

       I’ll do the service of a younger man

       In all your business and necessities.

       ORLANDO

       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:

       Yet fortune cannot recompense me better

       Than to die well and not my master’s debtor.

       [Exeunt.]

      SCENE IV. The Forest of Arden

       [Enter ROSALIND in boy’s clothes, CELIA dressed like a shepherdess, and TOUCHSTONE.]

       ROSALIND

       O Jupiter! how weary are my spirits!

       TOUCHSTONE

       I care not for my spirits, if my legs were not weary.

       ROSALIND

       I could find 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.

       CELIA

       I pray you bear with me; I can go no further.

       TOUCHSTONE

       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.

       ROSALIND

       Well, this is the forest of Arden.

       TOUCHSTONE

       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.

       ROSALIND

       Ay, be so, good Touchstone.—Look you, who comes here?, a young man and an old in solemn talk.

       [Enter CORIN and SILVIUS.]

       CORIN

       That is the way to make her scorn you still.

       SILVIUS

       O Corin, that thou knew’st how I do love her!

       CORIN

       I partly guess; for I have lov’d ere now.

       SILVIUS

       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?

       CORIN

       Into a thousand

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