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 the 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. And did you leave him in this contemplation? 2 Lord. We did, my lord, weeping and commenting Upon the sobbing deer.

Duke.

Show me the place: I love to cope him in these sullen fits,

For then he's full of matter.

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

SCENE II. A Room in the Palace.

[Exeunt.

Enter DUKE FREDERICK, Lords, and Attendants.
Fred. 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 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 untreasur'd of their mistress.

2 Lord. My lord, the roynish 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.

Fred. Send to his brother's; 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.

1 Roynish, according to Richardson, is from the French ronger, to gnaw eat, corrode. Thus it is much the same as scurvy or mangy.

2 Slacken, or give over.

SCENE III. Before OLIVER's House.

Enter ORLANDO and ADAM, meeting.

Orl. Who's there?

Adam. What, my young master? O my gentle master! O my sweet master! O, you memory

Of old Sir Roland! why, what make you here? 1
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 bony prizer of the humorous Duke ?2
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.3

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.

Orl. Why, whither, Adam, would'st thou have me go?

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

Orl. What, would'st thou have me go and beg my food?

Or with a base and boisterous sword enforce

1 "What do you here?" just as in Act i. scene 1, note 4. Fond means foolish here, a sense it often bears in these plays. Instead of bony, the original has bonnie, which some editors retain. Bony gives the sense of strength, and agrees with "sinewy Charles."- Prizer is a taker of prizes. Here, as before, humorous carries the sense of moody or capricious.

3 The Poet is fond of thus mixing incongruous words, in order to express certain complexities of thought. In like sort, even so grave a writer as Richard Hooker has the expression heavenly fraud, in a thoroughly good sense. — Envenoms, second line atter, means poisons; not that which makes a man venomous but that which acts like venom upon him.

4 That is, no place for you.

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.

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: 'tis 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:7

5 Blood turned out of the course of nature. Blood is continually used in Shakespeare for passions and affections.

6 In return for; the sense which the phrase commonly bears in Shakepeare.

"An indefinite period; somewhat too late.

Yet fortune cannot recompense me better,

Than to die well, and not my master's debtor.

SCENE IV. The Forest of Arden.

[Exeunt.

Enter ROSALIND in Boy's Clothes, CELIA drest like a Shepherdess, and 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 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.1 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.

Ros. Ay, be so, good Touchstone. Look here; a young man and an old in solemn talk.3

Enter CORIN and SILVIUS.

you,

who comes

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,

1 This doubling of the negative is common in our old writers.

2 In the Poet's time certain English coins had a cross stamped on one side, and hence were called crosses. This gave occasion for frequent puns. Thus in 2 Henry IV, i. 2, we have the grave Lord Chief Justice punning upon it: Falstaff having asked him for a loan of money, he replies: "Not a penny, not a penny; you are too impatient to bear crosses."

In old language, solemn is often used in the sense of serious or earnest.

Thou hast not lov'd:

Or if thou hast not sat as I do now,

Wearying thy hearer in 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.

[Exit.

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 batlet, and the cow's dugs that her pretty chapp'd hands had milk'd: and I remember the wooing of a peascod instead of her; from whom I took two 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 speak'st 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.

Touch. Holla, you clown!

Ros. Peace, Fool: he's not thy kinsman.
Cor. Who calls?

Touch. Your betters, sir.

Cor. 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 pr'ythee, shepherd, if that love or gold
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.

4 The imaginary rival for whose visits to Jane the stone was held vicariously responsible.

An instrument with which washers beat clothes.

6 That is, from his mistress. Cod was formerly used for the shell of peas, what we now call the pod. Pea-pods seem to have been worn sometimes for ornament. Thus Camden, speaking of Richard II., in his Remains: "He also used a peascod branch with the cods open, and the peas out, as it is upon his robe in his momument at Westminster."

7 I am not quite clear as to what sense the last mortal is used in here. The word is sometimes used in common talk as a general intensive.