ORLANDO and ADAM enter.
ORLANDO
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.
ORLANDO
I remember, Adam, that’s exactly why my father only left me a thousand
crowns in his will. And as you know, my father commanded my brother,
Oliver, to make sure that I was brought up well—and that’s where my
sadness begins. Oliver keeps my brother Jaques away at school, and
everyone says he’s doing extremely well there. But he keeps me at home
in the country—to be precise, he keeps me stuck at home but doesn’t
support me. I ask you, is this any way to treat a gentleman as nobly
born as I am, to pen me in like an ox? His horses get treated better
than I do—at least he feeds them and trains them properly, and spends
a lot of money on trainers for them. All I’ve gained from his care is
weight, which makes me as indebted to him as his animals on the manure
pile are. He gives me plenty of nothing, and takes away everything
else, letting me eat with his servants, refusing me what’s owed me as
his brother, and ruining my good birth with a poor education. This is
what angers me, Adam. My father’s temper and spirit, which I think I
share, makes me want to mutiny against my brother’s tyranny. I won’t
stand for it any longer, though I haven’t yet figured out how to
revolt.
Enter OLIVER
OLIVER enters.
ADAM
Yonder comes my master, your brother.
ADAM
Here comes my master, your brother.
ORLANDO
Go apart, Adam, and thou shalt hear how he will shake me up.
ORLANDO
Go hide, Adam, and you’ll hear how he abuses me.
OLIVER
Now, sir, what make you here?
OLIVER
Hey, you! What are you making here?
ORLANDO
Nothing. I am not taught to make anything.
ORLANDO
Nothing. I’ve never been taught how to make anything.
OLIVER
What mar you then, sir?
OLIVER
Well, then, what are you messing up?
ORLANDO
Marry, sir, I am helping you to mar that which God made, a poor
unworthy brother of yours, with idleness.
ORLANDO
I’m helping you mess up one of God’s creations—your poor, unworthy
brother—by having him do nothing.
OLIVER
Marry, sir, be better employed, and be naught awhile.
OLIVER
Indeed, sir, find something better to do and get lost for a while.
ORLANDO
Shall I keep your hogs and eat husks with them? What prodigal portion
have I spent that I should come to such penury?
ORLANDO
Should I tend your pigs and eat husks with them? When did I waste so
much money that I ended up this poor?
OLIVER
Know you where you are, sir?
OLIVER
Do you know where you are, sir?
ORLANDO
O sir, very well: here in your orchard.
ORLANDO
Yes, sir, very well—I’m here in your orchard.
OLIVER
Know you before whom, sir?
OLIVER
Do you know whom you’re talking to?
ORLANDO
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.
ORLANDO
Yes, better than you know me. I know you’re my oldest brother, and
deserve more respect. But we’re in the same family, so you should
acknowledge that I am a gentleman too. According to custom, as the
first-born you are my superior. But it’s not customary to treat me
like I’m not even a gentleman, even if there were twenty brothers
between you and me. I have as much of our father in me as you do,
though I admit you’re closer to him and matter more because you’re
older.
OLIVER
What, boy! (strikes him)
OLIVER
(hitting ORLANDO) What nerve!
ORLANDO
Come, come, elder brother, you are too young in this. (seizes him)
ORLANDO
(grabbing hold of OLIVER) Come on, big brother; you don’t know
anything about fighting.
OLIVER
Wilt thou lay hands on me, villain?
OLIVER
What, you dare put your hands on me, villain?
ORLANDO
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.
ORLANDO
I’m no villain. I’m the youngest son of Sir Rowland de Boys, and
anyone who claims my father’s sons are villains is a villain himself.
If you weren’t my brother, I’d leave this hand of mine on your neck
until I’d pulled out your tongue for talking like this. You’ve only
insulted yourself.
ADAM
Sweet masters, be patient. For your father’s remembrance, be at
accord.
ADAM
Gentlemen, calm down. For the sake of your father’s memory, make
peace.
OLIVER
Let me go, I say.
OLIVER
Let me go, I say.
ORLANDO
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 gentlemanlike 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.
ORLANDO
I won’t until I’m ready. You will listen to me. My father instructed
you in his will to give me a good education. But you’ve raised me as a
peasant, hiding from me what I needed to become a gentleman. My
father’s spirit is growing in me, and I won’t take this any longer.
Either give me the freedom to act like someone of my own rank or give
me my share of the inheritance, so that I can seek my fortune
elsewhere.
OLIVER
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.
OLIVER
And what are you going to do after you’ve spent your money? Beg? Well,
sir, go inside. I’m not going to be bothered by you for long. You’ll
get some of what you want. Now please leave me alone.
ORLANDO
I will no further offend you than becomes me for my good.
ORLANDO
I won’t bother you any more than necessary.
OLIVER
Get you with him, you old dog.
OLIVER
(to ADAM) And you get lost too, 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.
ADAM
Is that my reward—to be called “old dog?” Well, it’s true, I’ve served
this family so long I’ve gotten old and toothless, like a dog. God
bless my old master. He would never have spoken to me like this.
Exeunt ORLANDO and ADAM
ORLANDO and ADAM exit.
OLIVER
Is it even so? Begin you to grow upon me? I will physic your rankness
and yet give no thousand crowns neither.—Holla, Dennis!
OLIVER
Is that how it’s going to be? Are you starting to challenge me? I’ll
cure you of your insolence, and I’m not going to give you a thousand
crowns, either!—Hey, Dennis!
Enter DENNIS
DENNIS enters.
DENNIS
Calls your Worship?
DENNIS
Did you call for me, your Worship?
OLIVER
Was not Charles, the duke’s wrestler, here to speak with me?
OLIVER
Wasn’t Charles, the duke’s wrestler, here to speak with me?
DENNIS
So please you, he is here at the door and importunes access to you.
DENNIS
Yes, sir, he’s here at the door right now and asks to see you.
OLIVER
Call him in.
OLIVER
Call him in.
Exit DENNIS
DENNIS exits.
‘Twill be a good way, and tomorrow the wrestling is. I have a good
plan. And tomorrow is the wrestling match.
Enter CHARLES
CHARLES enters.
CHARLES
Good morrow to your Worship.
CHARLES
Good morning, sir.
OLIVER
Good Monsieur Charles, what’s the new news at the new court?
OLIVER
Good Mr. Charles! Tell me, what’s the latest news at the new court?
CHARLES
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.
CHARLES
No news but the old news: the old Duke Senior has been banished by his
younger brother, the new Duke Frederick. A few loyal lords have gone
into exile with Duke Senior, and given up their lands and money to
Frederick—so he’s happy enough to have them leave.
OLIVER
Can you tell if Rosalind, the duke’s daughter, be banished with her
father?
OLIVER
Can you tell me whether Rosalind, Duke Senior’s daughter, has also
been banished?
CHARLES
Oh, 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.
CHARLES
Oh, no. Duke Frederick’s daughter, Celia, grew up with Rosalind, and
Celia loves her cousin so much that she would have either followed her
into exile or died of grief. Rosalind has stayed at court, where Duke
Frederick loves her like his own daughter. No two women ever loved
each other like they do.
OLIVER
Where will the old duke live?
OLIVER
Where will the old duke live?
CHARLES
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. CHARLES
They say he’s already in the Forest of Arden. He has many cheerful men
with him, and they live like Robin Hood and his outlaws. People say
that new batches of young men flock there every day, and that they all
pass the time without a care, like people did in the Golden Age.
OLIVER
What, you wrestle tomorrow before the new duke?
OLIVER
So, are you going to wrestle before the new duke tomorrow?
CHARLES
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 disguised against me to try a fall.
Tomorrow, 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 loath to foil him, as I must for
my own honor 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.
CHARLES
Indeed I do, sir, and I’ve come to let you in on a certain problem.
I’ve been informed by certain sources I can’t disclose that your
younger brother Orlando plans to fight me in disguise. Tomorrow, sir,
I’m fighting for my reputation, and any man who gets away without a
broken bone or two is an exceptional wrestler indeed. Your brother is
young and inexperienced, and because of my affection for you, I’d hate
to crush him—though I’d have to, if he challenged me. I’m telling you
all this out of affection for you, so you can either keep him from
carrying out his plans or prepare to accept his disgrace, which will
be his own fault, not mine.
OLIVER
Charles, I thank thee for thy love to me, which thou shalt find I will
most kindly requite. I had myself notice of my brother’s purpose
herein and have by underhand means labored 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 villainous 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 practice 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 villainous 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.
OLIVER
Charles, I thank you for your loyalty to me, and you’ll see that I’ll
reward you. I’d heard about my brother’s plan and have been subtly
trying to change his mind, but he’s determined. I tell you, Charles,
he’s the stubbornest young fellow in France: overly ambitious, jealous
of other people’s good qualities, and a traitor against me, his own
blood brother. So use your discretion. I’d be just as happy if you
broke his neck as his finger. And you’d better be careful, because if
you embarrass him at all—in fact, if he doesn’t beat you thoroughly—
he’ll come after you and won’t leave you alone till he’s poisoned you
or trapped you—killed you, in other words, one way or another. It
brings me to tears to say this, but there isn’t another person alive
who is so young and at the same time so wicked. Because he’s my
brother, I have to take his side. But if I really laid him bare, I’d
have to weep and hang my head, and you would not believe me, his
behavior is so shocking.
CHARLES
I am heartily glad I came hither to you. If he come tomorrow, I’ll
give him his payment. If ever he go alone again, I’ll never wrestle
for prize more. And so God keep your Worship. CHARLES
I’m very glad I came to see you. If he shows up tomorrow, I’ll give
him what’s coming to him. If he can manage to walk after our fight,
I’ll never wrestle for money again. Farewell, my lord.
OLIVER
Farewell, good Charles.
OLIVER
Take care, Charles.
Exit CHARLES
CHARLES exits.
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
sorts 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 misprized. 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.
Now it’s time to get this playboy brother of mine all worked up. I
hope I’ll see the end of him soon—I don’t know why, but I hate nothing
in the world as much as him, though he’s an upstanding guy. He’s never
gone to school but he’s smart, with good values, and everyone is
delighted by him and loves him, especially my subjects, who know him
the best. They love him, and therefore they despise me. But not for
long; Charles will take care of everything. All I have to do is get
Orlando to fight, which I’ll do now.
Exit
He exits.
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