1    As I remember, Adam, it was upon this fashion
2    bequeathed me by will but poor a thousand crowns,
3    and, as thou sayest, charged my brother, on his
4    blessing, to breed me well: and there begins my
5    sadness. My brother Jaques he keeps at school, and
6    report speaks goldenly of his profit: for my part,
7    he keeps me rustically at home, or, to speak more
8    properly, stays me here at home unkept; for call you
9    that keeping for a gentleman of my birth, that
10   differs not from the stalling of an ox? His horses
11   are bred better; for, besides that they are fair
12   with their feeding, they are taught their manage,
13   and to that end riders dearly hired: but I, his
14   brother, gain nothing under him but growth; for the
15   which his animals on his dunghills are as much
16   bound to him as I. Besides this nothing that he so
17   plentifully gives me, the something that nature gave
18   me his countenance seems to take from me: he lets
19   me feed with his hinds, bars me the place of a
20   brother, and, as much as in him lies, mines my
21   gentility with my education. This is it, Adam, that
22   grieves me; and the spirit of my father, which I
23   think is within me, begins to mutiny against this
24   servitude: I will no longer endure it, though yet I
25   know no wise remedy how to avoid it.

26   Yonder comes my master, your brother.

27   Go apart, Adam, and thou shalt hear how he will
28   shake me up.

29   Now, sir! what make you here?

30   Nothing: I am not taught to make any thing.

31   What mar you then, sir?

32   Marry, sir, I am helping you to mar that which God
33   made, a poor unworthy brother of yours, with idleness.

34   Marry, sir, be better employed, and be naught awhile.

35   Shall I keep your hogs and eat husks with them?
36   What prodigal portion have I spent, that I should
37   come to such penury?

38   Know you where your are, sir?

39   O, sir, very well; here in your orchard.

40   Know you before whom, sir?

41   Ay, better than him I am before knows me. I know
42   you are my eldest brother; and, in the gentle
43   condition of blood, you should so know me. The
44   courtesy of nations allows you my better, in that
45   you are the first-born; but the same tradition
46   takes not away my blood, were there twenty brothers
47   betwixt us: I have as much of my father in me as
48   you; albeit, I confess, your coming before me is
49   nearer to his reverence.

50   What, boy!

51   Come, come, elder brother, you are too young in this.

52   Wilt thou lay hands on me, villain?

53   I am no villain; I am the youngest son of Sir
54   Rowland de Boys; he was my father, and he is thrice
55   a villain that says such a father begot villains.
56   Wert thou not my brother, I would not take this hand
57   from thy throat till this other had pulled out thy
58   tongue for saying so: thou hast railed on thyself.

59   Sweet masters, be patient: for your father's
60   remembrance, be at accord.

61   Let me go, I say.

62   I will not, till I please: you shall hear me. My
63   father charged you in his will to give me good
64   education: you have trained me like a peasant,
65   obscuring and hiding from me all gentleman-like
66   qualities. The spirit of my father grows strong in
67   me, and I will no longer endure it: therefore allow
68   me such exercises as may become a gentleman, or
69   give me the poor allottery my father left me by
70   testament; with that I will go buy my fortunes.

71   And what wilt thou do? beg, when that is spent?
72   Well, sir, get you in: I will not long be troubled
73   with you; you shall have some part of your will: I
74   pray you, leave me.

75   I will no further offend you than becomes me for my good.

76   Get you with him, you old dog.

77   Is 'old dog' my reward? Most true, I have lost my
78   teeth in your service. God be with my old master!
79   he would not have spoke such a word.

80   Is it even so? begin you to grow upon me? I will
81   physic your rankness, and yet give no thousand
82   crowns neither. Holla, Dennis!

83   Calls your worship?

84   Was not Charles, the duke's wrestler, here to speak with me?

85   So please you, he is here at the door and importunes
86   access to you.

87   Call him in.
Exit DENNIS
88   'Twill be a good way; and to-morrow the wrestling is.

89   Good morrow to your worship.

90   Good Monsieur Charles, what's the new news at the
91   new court?

92   There's no news at the court, sir, but the old news:
93   that is, the old duke is banished by his younger
94   brother the new duke; and three or four loving lords
95   have put themselves into voluntary exile with him,
96   whose lands and revenues enrich the new duke;
97   therefore he gives them good leave to wander.

98   Can you tell if Rosalind, the duke's daughter, be
99   banished with her father?

100  O, no; for the duke's daughter, her cousin, so loves
101  her, being ever from their cradles bred together,
102  that she would have followed her exile, or have died
103  to stay behind her. She is at the court, and no
104  less beloved of her uncle than his own daughter; and
105  never two ladies loved as they do.

106  Where will the old duke live?

107  They say he is already in the forest of Arden, and
108  a many merry men with him; and there they live like
109  the old Robin Hood of England: they say many young
110  gentlemen flock to him every day, and fleet the time
111  carelessly, as they did in the golden world.

112  What, you wrestle to-morrow before the new duke?

113  Marry, do I, sir; and I came to acquaint you with a
114  matter. I am given, sir, secretly to understand
115  that your younger brother Orlando hath a disposition
116  to come in disguised against me to try a fall.
117  To-morrow, sir, I wrestle for my credit; and he that
118  escapes me without some broken limb shall acquit him
119  well. Your brother is but young and tender; and,
120  for your love, I would be loath to foil him, as I
121  must, for my own honour, if he come in: therefore,
122  out of my love to you, I came hither to acquaint you
123  withal, that either you might stay him from his
124  intendment or brook such disgrace well as he shall
125  run into, in that it is a thing of his own search
126  and altogether against my will.

127  Charles, I thank thee for thy love to me, which
128  thou shalt find I will most kindly requite. I had
129  myself notice of my brother's purpose herein and
130  have by underhand means laboured to dissuade him from
131  it, but he is resolute. I'll tell thee, Charles:
132  it is the stubbornest young fellow of France, full
133  of ambition, an envious emulator of every man's
134  good parts, a secret and villanous contriver against
135  me his natural brother: therefore use thy
136  discretion; I had as lief thou didst break his neck
137  as his finger. And thou wert best look to't; for if
138  thou dost him any slight disgrace or if he do not
139  mightily grace himself on thee, he will practise
140  against thee by poison, entrap thee by some
141  treacherous device and never leave thee till he
142  hath ta'en thy life by some indirect means or other;
143  for, I assure thee, and almost with tears I speak
144  it, there is not one so young and so villanous this
145  day living. I speak but brotherly of him; but
146  should I anatomize him to thee as he is, I must
147  blush and weep and thou must look pale and wonder.

148  I am heartily glad I came hither to you. If he come
149  to-morrow, I'll give him his payment: if ever he go
150  alone again, I'll never wrestle for prize more: and
151  so God keep your worship!

152  Farewell, good Charles.
Exit CHARLES
153  Now will I stir this gamester: I hope I shall see
154  an end of him; for my soul, yet I know not why,
155  hates nothing more than he. Yet he's gentle, never
156  schooled and yet learned, full of noble device, of
157  all sorts enchantingly beloved, and indeed so much
158  in the heart of the world, and especially of my own
159  people, who best know him, that I am altogether
160  misprised: but it shall not be so long; this
161  wrestler shall clear all: nothing remains but that
162  I kindle the boy thither; which now I'll go about.