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    Act 2, Scene III

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    Chapter 6
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    SCENE III. Before OLIVER'S house.

    Enter ORLANDO and ADAM, meeting
    ORLANDO
    Who's there?

    ADAM
    What, my young master? O, my gentle master!
    O my sweet master! O you memory
    Of old Sir Rowland! why, what make you here?
    Why are you virtuous? why do people love you?
    And wherefore are you gentle, strong and valiant?
    Why would you be so fond to overcome
    The bonny priser of the humorous duke?
    Your praise is come too swiftly home before you.
    Know you not, master, to some kind of men
    Their graces serve them but as enemies?
    No more do yours: your virtues, gentle master,
    Are sanctified and holy traitors to you.
    O, what a world is this, when what is comely
    Envenoms him that bears it!

    ORLANDO
    Why, what's the matter?

    ADAM
    O unhappy youth!
    Come not within these doors; within this roof
    The enemy of all your graces lives:
    Your brother--no, no brother; yet the son--
    Yet not the son, I will not call him son
    Of him I was about to call his father--
    Hath heard your praises, and this night he means
    To burn the lodging where you use to lie
    And you within it: if he fail of that,
    He will have other means to cut you off.
    I overheard him and his practises.
    This is no place; this house is but a butchery:
    Abhor it, fear it, do not enter it.

    ORLANDO
    Why, whither, Adam, wouldst thou have me go?

    ADAM
    No matter whither, so you come not here.

    ORLANDO
    What, wouldst thou have me go and beg my food?
    Or with a base and boisterous sword enforce
    A thievish living on the common road?
    This I must do, or know not what to do:
    Yet this I will not do, do how I can;
    I rather will subject me to the malice
    Of a diverted blood and bloody brother.

    ADAM
    But do not so. I have five hundred crowns,
    The thrifty hire I saved under your father,
    Which I did store to be my foster-nurse
    When service should in my old limbs lie lame
    And unregarded age in corners thrown:
    Take that, and He that doth the ravens feed,
    Yea, providently caters for the sparrow,
    Be comfort to my age! Here is the gold;
    And all this I give you. Let me be your servant:
    Though I look old, yet I am strong and lusty;
    For in my youth I never did apply
    Hot and rebellious liquors in my blood,
    Nor did not with unbashful forehead woo
    The means of weakness and debility;
    Therefore my age is as a lusty winter,
    Frosty, but kindly: let me go with you;
    I'll do the service of a younger man
    In all your business and necessities.

    ORLANDO
    O good old man, how well in thee appears
    The constant service of the antique world,
    When service sweat for duty, not for meed!
    Thou art not for the fashion of these times,
    Where none will sweat but for promotion,
    And having that, do choke their service up
    Even with the having: it is not so with thee.
    But, poor old man, thou prunest a rotten tree,
    That cannot so much as a blossom yield
    In lieu of all thy pains and husbandry
    But come thy ways; well go along together,
    And ere we have thy youthful wages spent,
    We'll light upon some settled low content.

    ADAM
    Master, go on, and I will follow thee,
    To the last gasp, with truth and loyalty.
    From seventeen years till now almost fourscore
    Here lived I, but now live here no more.
    At seventeen years many their fortunes seek;
    But at fourscore it is too late a week:
    Yet fortune cannot recompense me better
    Than to die well and not my master's debtor.

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