As You Like It: Act 2, Scene 3
*Enter ORLANDO and ADAM, [meeting].
2What, my young master? O, my gentle master!
3O my sweet master! O you memory
4Of old Sir Rowland! why, what make you here?
5Why are you virtuous? why do people love you?
6And wherefore are you gentle, strong and valiant?
7Why would you be so fond to overcome
8The bonny priser of the humorous duke?
9Your praise is come too swiftly home before you.
10Know you not, master, to some kind of men
11Their graces serve them but as enemies?
12No more do yours: your virtues, gentle master,
13Are sanctified and holy traitors to you.
14O, what a world is this, when what is comely
15Envenoms him that bears it!
16Why, what's the matter?
16O unhappy youth!
17Come not within these doors; within this roof
18The enemy of all your graces lives:
19Your brotherno, no brother; yet the son
20Yet not the son, I will not call him son
21Of him I was about to call his father
22Hath heard your praises, and this night he means
23To burn the lodging where you use to lie
24And you within it: if he fail of that,
25He will have other means to cut you off.
26I overheard him and his practises.
27This is no place; this house is but a butchery:
28Abhor it, fear it, do not enter it.
29Why, whither, Adam, wouldst thou have me go?
30No matter whither, so you come not here.
31What, wouldst thou have me go and beg my food?
32Or with a base and boist'rous sword enforce
33A thievish living on the common road?
34This I must do, or know not what to do:
35Yet this I will not do, do how I can;
36I rather will subject me to the malice
37Of a diverted blood and bloody brother.
38But do not so. I have five hundred crowns,
39The thrifty hire I sav'd under your father,
40Which I did store to be my foster-nurse
41When service should in my old limbs lie lame
42And unregarded age in corners thrown:
43Take that, and He that doth the ravens feed,
44Yea, providently caters for the sparrow,
45Be comfort to my age! Here is the gold;
46And all this I give you. Let me be your servant:
47Though I look old, yet I am strong and lusty;
48For in my youth I never did apply
49Hot and rebellious liquors in my blood,
50Nor did not with unbashful forehead woo
51The means of weakness and debility;
52Therefore my age is as a lusty winter,
53Frosty, but kindly: let me go with you;
54I'll do the service of a younger man
55In all your business and necessities.
56O good old man, how well in thee appears
57The constant service of the antique world,
58When service sweat for duty, not for meed!
59Thou art not for the fashion of these times,
60Where none will sweat but for promotion,
61And having that, do choke their service up
62Even with the having: it is not so with thee.
63But, poor old man, thou prunest a rotten tree,
64That cannot so much as a blossom yield
65In lieu of all thy pains and husbandry.
66But come thy ways; we'll go along together,
67And ere we have thy youthful wages spent,
68We'll light upon some settled low content.
69Master, go on, and I will follow thee,
70To the last gasp, with truth and loyalty.
71From seventeen years till now almost fourscore
72Here lived I, but now live here no more.
73At seventeen years many their fortunes seek;
74But at fourscore it is too late a week:
75Yet fortune cannot recompense me better
76Than to die well and not my master's debtor.