SCENE I. Orchard of Oliver's house
Enter ORLANDO and ADAM
As I remember, Adam, it was upon this fashion bequeathed me by will but poor a thousand
crowns, and, as thou sayest, 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 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 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. This 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.
Yonder comes my master, your brother.
Go apart, Adam, and thou shalt hear how he will shake me up.
Now, sir! what make you here?
Nothing: I am not taught to make any thing.
What mar you then, sir?
Marry, sir, I am helping you to mar that which God made, a poor unworthy brother of yours,
Marry, sir, be better employed, and be naught awhile.
Shall I keep your hogs and eat husks with them? What prodigal portion have I spent, that I
should come to such penury?
Know you where your are, sir?
O, sir, very well; here in your orchard.
Know you before whom, sir?
Ay, better than him 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, your coming before me is nearer to his reverence.
Come, come, elder brother, you are too young in this.
Wilt thou lay hands on me, villain?
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 pulled out thy tongue for saying
so: thou hast railed on thyself.
Sweet masters, be patient: for your father's remembrance, be at accord.
Let me go, I say.
I will not, till I please: you shall hear me. 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
endure it: therefore allow me such exercises 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.
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.
I will no further offend you than becomes me for my good.
Get you with him, you old dog.
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
Is it even so? begin you to grow upon me? I will physic your rankness, and yet give no
thousand crowns neither. Holla, Dennis!
Calls your worship?
Was not Charles, the duke's wrestler, here to speak with me?
So please you, he is here at the door and importunes access to you.
Call him in.
'Twill be a good way; and to-morrow the wrestling is.
Good morrow to your worship.
Good Monsieur Charles, what's the new news at the new court?
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.