As You Like It By William Shakespeare Act I: Scene 1

ACT I. SCENE I. An Orchard near OLIVER'S house.

[Enter ORLANDO and ADAM.]

ORLANDO.
As I remember, Adam, it was upon this fashion, — bequeathed me by
will but poor a thousand crowns, and, as thou say'st, 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.

ADAM.
Yonder comes my master, your brother.

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

[ADAM retires]

[Enter OLIVER.]

OLIVER.
Now, sir! what make you here?

ORLANDO.
Nothing: I am not taught to make anything.

OLIVER.
What mar you then, sir?

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

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

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

OLIVER.
Know you where you are, sir?

ORLANDO.
O, sir, very well: here in your orchard.

OLIVER.
Know you before whom, sir?

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.

OLIVER.
What, boy!

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

OLIVER.
Wilt thou lay hands on me, villain?

ORLANDO.
I am no villain: I am the youngest son of Sir Rowland de
Bois: 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 has railed on thyself.

ADAM.
[Coming forward] Sweet masters, be patient; for your
father's remembrance, be at accord.

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
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.

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.

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

OLIVER.
Get you with him, 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.

[Exeunt ORLANDO and ADAM.]

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!

[Enter DENNIS.]

DENNIS.
Calls your worship?

OLIVER.
Was not 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.

OLIVER.
Call him in.

[Exit DENNIS.]

— 'Twill be a good way; and to-morrow the wrestling is.

[Enter CHARLES.]

CHARLES.
Good morrow to your worship.

OLIVER.
Good Monsieur Charles! — what's the new news at the new court?

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