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been a servant to the Duke.
the fortunes of ORLANDO.
A clown, in love with AUDREY.
Lords belonging to the two Dukes, with pages, foresters, and
The Scene lies first near Oliver's house, and afterwards partly
in the Duke's court, and partly in the forest of Arden.
AS YOU LIKE IT.
Enter Orlando, and Adam.
OR LAND.O. S I remember, Adam, it was upon this my father bequeath'd me by will but a poor thousand crowns; and, as thou fay'st, charged my brother, on his blesing, 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 dunghills are as much bound to him as I. Besides this nothing that he so plentifully gives me, the something that nature gave me his discountenance 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. This is it, Adam, that grieves me; and the spirit of
my father, which, I think, is within me, begins to mutiny against this sérvitude. I will no longer endure it, though yet I know no wife remedy how to avoid it.
Adam. Yonder comes my master, your brother.
Oli. Now, sir, what make
here? Orla. Nothing: I am not taught to make any thing. Oli. What mar you then, sir?
Orla. Marry, sir, I am helping you to mar that which god made, a poor unworthy brother of yours, with idleness.
Oli. Marry, fir, be better employ’d, and do aught a while.
Orla. Shall I keep your hogs, and eat husks with them ? what prodigal's portion have I spent, that I should come to such penury?
Oli. Know you where you are, sir?
orchard. Oli. Know you before whom, fir?
Orla. 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 my better, in that you are the first born; but the same tradition takes not away my blood, were there twenty brothers betwixt us. I have as much of my father in me, as you; albeit, I confess, you coming before me are nearer to his revenue.
Oli. What, boy!
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 says, such a father begot villains. Wert thou not my brother, I would not take this hand from thy throat, till this other had pull’d out thy tongue for saying so; thou hast rail'd on thyself.
Adam. Sweet masters, be patient; for your father's remembrance, be at accord. Oli. Let me go, I say.