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By the sweet power of music: Therefore, the
Nor is not mov'd with concord of sweet sounds,
Let no such man be trusted.-Mark the music.
Ner. When the moon shone, we did not see the candle.
This is the man, this is Antonio,
Por. You should in all sense be much bound
For, as I hear, he was much bound for you.
In faith, I gave it to the judge's clerk:
Gra. About a hoop of gold, a paltry ring
Por. So doth the greater glory dim the less: That she did give me; whose posy was
A substitute shines brightly as a king,
Ner. It is your music, madam, of the house.
Lor. That is the voice,
Or I am much deceiv'd, of Portia.
Por. He knows me, as the blind man knows the cuckoo,
By the bad voice.
Lor. Dear lady, welcome home.
Por. We have been praying for our husbands' welfare,
Which speed, we hope, the better for our words.
Lor. Madam, they are not yet;
Por. Go in, Nerissa,
Give order to my servants, that they take
[A tucket sounds. Lor. Your husband is at hand, I hear his trumpet:
We are no tell-tales, madam; fear you not. Por. This night, methinks, is but the daylight sick,
It looks a little paler; 'tis a day,
Bass. We should hold day with the
For all the world, like cutler's poetry
Ner. What talk you of the posy, or the value?
Gave it a judge's clerk!--but well I know, The clerk will ne'er wear hair on his face, that had it.
Gra. He will, an if he live to be a man. Ner. Ay, if a woman live to be a man. Gra. Now, by this hand, I gave it to a youth, A kind of boy; a little scrubbed boy, No higher than thyself, the judge's clerk; A prating boy, that begg'd it as a fee; I could not for my heart deny it him.
Por. You were to blame, I must be plain with you,
To part so slightly with your wife's first gift;
Bass. Why, I were best to cut my left hand
And swear, I lost the ring defending it. [Aside.
Gra. My lord Bassanio gave his ring away
Por. What ring gave you, my lord?
If you would walk in absence of the sun.
For a light wife doth make a heavy husband,
Bass. I thank you, madam: give welcome to my friend.
* A flourish on a trumpet.
Por. Even so void is your false heart of truth. By heaven, I will ne'er come in your bed Until I see the ring.
Ner. Nor I in yours, Till I again see mine.
Bass. Sweet Portia,
If you did know to whom I gave the ring,
* Verbal, complimentary form.
When naught would be accepted but the ring,
Por. If you had known the virtue of the ring,
The ring of me to give the worthy doctor.
Por. Let not that doctor e'er come near my
Since he hath got the jewel that I lov'd,
In summer, where the ways are fair enough: What! are we cuckolds, ere we have deserv'd it?
Por. Speak not so grossly. You are all
Here is a letter, read it at your leisure;
And that which you did swear to keep for me, I chanced on this letter.
I will become as liberal as you :
I'll not deny him any thing I have,
Lie not a night from home: watch me, like
Ner. And I his clerk; therefore be well ad-
How you do leave me to mine own protection.
For, if I do, I'll mar the young clerk's pen.
Por. Sir, grieve not you; You are welcome
Bass. Portia, forgive me this enforced wrong;
Por. Mark you but that!
In both my eyes he doubly sees himself:
Ant. I am dumb.
Bass. Were you the doctor, and I knew you not?
Gra. Were you the clerk, that is to make me cuckold?
Ner. Ay; but the clerk that never means to do it,
Unless he live until he be a man.
Bass. Sweet doctor, you shall be my bed
My clerk hath some good comforts too for you.
Por. It is almost morning.
In each eye, one :-swear by your double self, And yet, I am sure, you are not satisfied
And there's an oath of credit.
Bass. Nay, but hear me :
Pardon this fault, and by my soul I swear,
Of these events at full: Let us go in ;
Gra. Let it be so: The first intergatory,
SCENE I.-An Orchard, near OLIVER's House.
Enter ORLANDO and ADAM.
Orl. As I remember, Adam, it was upon this fashion bequeathed me: By will, but a poor thousand crowns; and, as thou say'st, charged my brother, 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 part, 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 differs not from the stalling of an ox? His horses are bred better; for, besides 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 dung-hills are as much bound to him as I. Besides this nothing 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. That 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.
Adam. Yonder comes my master, your brother.
Orl. Go apart, Adam, and thou shalt hear how he will shake me up.
Oli. Now, Sir! what make you here?* Orl. Nothing: I am not taught to make any thing.
Oli. What mar you then, Sir? *What do you here?
Orl. Marry, Sir, I am helping you to mar that which God made, a poor unworthy brother of yours, with idleness.
Oli. Marry, Sir, be better employed, and be naught awhile.
Orl. Shall I keep your hogs, and eat husks with them? What prodigal portion have I spent, that I should come to such penury? Oli. Know you where you are, Sir? Orl. O, Sir, very well; here in your orchard. Oli. Know you before whom, Sir?
Orl. Ay, better than he I am before knows me. I know, you are my eldest brother; and, in the gentle condition of blood you should so know me: The courtesy of nations allows you the same tradition takes not away my blood, my better, in that you are the first-born; but were there twenty brothers betwixt us: I have as much of my father in me as you; albeit, I confess, your coming before me is nearer to his
Oli. What, boy!
Orl. Come, come, elder brother, you are too young in this.
Oli. Wilt thou lay hands on me, villain?
Orl. I am no villain:* I am the youngest son of Sir Rowland de Bois; he was my father; and he is thrice a villain, that says, such a father begot villains: Wert 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 thyself,
Adam. Sweet masters, be patient; for your father's remembrance, be at accord. Oli. Let me go, I say.
Orl. I will not, till I please: you shall hear My father charged you in his will to give me good education: you have trained me like a peasant, obscuring and hiding from me all gentleman-like qualities: the spirit of my father grows strong in me, and I will no longer
Villain is used in a double sense; by Oliver for a worthless fellow, and by Orlando for a man of base ex
endure it: therefore allow me such exercises | I had myself notice of my brother's purpose as may become a gentleman, or give me the poor allottery my father left me by testament; with that I will go buy my fortunes.
Oli. And what wilt thou do? beg, when that is spent? Well, Sir, get you in: I will not long be troubled with you: you shall have some part of your will: I pray you, leave me. Orl. I will no further offend you than becomes me for my good.
Oli. Get you with him, you old dog. Adam. Is old dog my reward? Most true, I have lost my teeth in your service.-God be with my old master! he would not have spoke such a word. [Exeunt ORLANDO and ADAM. Oli. Is it even so? begin you to grow upon me? I will physic your rankness, and yet give no thousand crowns neither. Hola, 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 monsieur Charles!-what's the new news at the new court?
Cha. There's no news at the court, Sir, but the old news: that is, the old duke is banished by his younger brother, the new duke; and three or four loving lords have put themselves into voluntary exile with him, whose lands and revenues enrich the new duke: therefore he gives them good leave* to wander.
Oli. Can you tell, if Rosalind the duke's daughter, be banished with her father.
Cha. O, no; for the duke's daughter, her cousin, so 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 say he is already in the forest of Arden, and a many merry men with him; and there they live like the old Robin Hood of England: they say 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, Sir; and I came to acquaint you with a matter. I am given, Sir, secretly to understand, that your younger brother, Orlando, hath a disposition to come in disguis'd against me, to try a fall: To-morrow, Sir, I wrestle for my credit, and he that escapes me without some broken limb, shall acquit him well. Your brother is but young, and tender; and, for your love, I would be luath to foil him, as I must, for my 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 such disgrace well as he shall 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 shalt find I will most kindly requite.
A ready assent.
herein, and have by underhand means laboured to dissuade him from it; but he is resolute. I'll tell thee, Charles,-it is the stubbornest young fellow of France; full of ambition, an envious emulator of every man's good parts, a secret and villanous contriver against me his natural brother; therefore use thy discretion; I had as lief thou didst break his neck as his finger: And thou wert best look to't! for if thou dost him any slight disgrace, or if he do not mightily grace himself on thee, he will practise against thee by poison, entrap thee by some treacherous device, and never leave thee till he hath ta'en thy life by some indirect means or other: for, I assure thee, and almost with tears I speak it, there is not one so young and so villanous this day living. I speak but brotherly of him; but should 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: ment: If ever he go alone again, I'll never If he come to-morrow, I'll give him his paywrestle for prize more: And so, God keep your worship!
Oli. Farewell, good Charles. Now will I stir this gamester:* I hope, I shall see an end of him; for my soul, yet I know not why, hates nothing more than he. Yet he's gentle; never schooled, and yet learned; full of noble device: of all sortst enchantingly beloved; and, indeed, so much in the heart of the world, and especially of my own people, who best know him, that I am altogether misprised: but it shall not be so long; this wrestler shall clear all: nothing remains, but that I kindle the boy thither, which now I'll go about.
SCENE II-A Lawn before the Duke's Palace.
Cel. I pray thee, Rosalind, sweet my coz, be
Ros. Dear Celia, I show more mirth than I am mistress of; and would you yet I were merrier? Unless you could teach me to forget a banished father, you must not learn me how to remember any extraordinary pleasure.
Cel. Herein, I see, thou lovest me not with the full weight that I love thee: if my uncle, thy banished father, had banished thy uncle, the duke my father, so thou hadst been still with me, I could have taught my love to take thy father for mine; so would'st thou, if the truth of thy love to me were so righteously tempered as mine is to thee.
estate, to rejoice in yours.
I, nor none is like to have; and, truly, when
Ros. From henceforth I will, coz, and devise sports: let me see; What think you of falling in love?
Cel. Marry, I pr'ythee, do, to make sport withal: but love no man in good earnest: nor no further in sport neither, than with safety of a pure blush thou may'st in honour come off again.