Now by mine honour, which is yet my own,
I'll have that doctor for my bedfellow.

Ner. And I his clerk; therefore be well advis'd,
How you do leave me to mine own protection.
Gra. Well, do you so: let not me take him then;
For, if I do, I'll mar the young clerk's pen.

Ant. I am the unhappy subject of these quarrels. Por. Sir, grieve not you; You are welcome notwithstanding.

Bass. Portia, forgive me this enforced wrong;
And, in the hearing of these many friends,

I swear to thee, even by thine own fair eyes,
Wherein I see myself,

Por.

Mark you but that!
In both my eyes he doubly sees himself:
In each eye, one:-swear by your double self,
And there's an oath of credit.

Bass.
Nay, but hear me:
Pardon this fault, and by my soul I swear,
I never more will break an oath with thee.
Ant. I once did lend my body for his wealth;
Which, but for him that had your husband's ring,
[TO PORTIA.
Had quite miscarried: I dare be bound again,
My soul upon the forfeit, that your lord
Will never more break faith advisedly.

Por. Then you shall be his surety: Give him this; And bid him keep it better than the other.

Ant. Here, lord Bassanio; swear to keep this ring. Bass, By heaven, it is the same I gave the doctor! Por. I had it of him: pardon me, Bassanio; For by this ring the doctor lay with me.

Ner. And pardon me, my gentle Gratiano; For that same scrubbed boy, the doctor's clerk, In lieu of this, last night did lie with me.

Gra. Why, this is like the mending of highways In summer, where the ways are fair enough: What! are we cuckolds, ere we have deserv'd it? Por. Speak not so grossly.-You are all amaz'd: Here is a letter, read it at your leisure;

It comes from Padua, from Bellario:

There you shall find, that Portia was the doctor;
Nerissa there, her clerk: Lorenzo here
Shall witness, I set forth as soon as you,
And but even now return'd: I have not yet
Enter'd my house. -Antonio, you are welcome;

Merchant of Venice.

Bass. Were you the doctor, and I knew you not? Gra. Were you the clerk, that is to make me cuckold? Ner. Ay; but the clerk that never means to do it, Unless he live until he be a man.

Bass. Sweet doctor, you shall be my bedfellow; When I am absent, then lie with my wife.

Ant. Sweet lady, you have given me life, and living; For here I read for certain, that my ships Are safely come to road.

[Exeunt.

AS YOU LIKE IT.

By

WILLIAM SHAKSPERE.

LEIPSIC:

BROTHERS SCHUMANN.

PERSONS REPRESENTED.

Duke, living in exite.

FREDERICK, Brother to the Duke, and Usurper of his Dominions.

AMIENS, Lords attending upon the Duke in his ba-
JAQUES, nishment.

LE BEAU, a Courtier attending upon Frederick.
CHARLES, his Wrestler.

OLIVER,

JAQUES,

Sons of Sir Rowland de Bois.

ORLANDO,

ADAM,

DENNIS Servants to Oliver.

TOUCHSTONE, a Clown.

SIR OLIVER MAR-TEXT, α Vicar.

CORIN,

SYLVIUS, Shepherds.

WILLIAM, a country Fellow, in love with Audrey.
A Person representing Hymen.

ROSALIND, Daughter to the banished Duke.

CELIA, Daughter to Frederick.

PREBE, a Shepherdess.

AUDREY, a country Wench.

Lords belonging to the two Dukes; Pages, Foresters, and other Attendants.

The SCENE lies, first, near Oliver's House; afterwards, partly in the Usurper's Court, and partly in the Forest of Arden.

AS YOU LIKE IT.

ACT I.

SCENE I. An Orchard, near Oliver's House.

Enter ORLANDO and ADAM.

Orl. As I remember, Adam, it was upon this fashion bequeathed me by will: But a poor 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 aré 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 seryitude: I will no longer endure it, though yet I know no wise remedy how to avoid it.

Enter OLIVER.

Adam. Yonder comes my master, your brother. Orl. Go apart, Adam, and thou shalt hear how he will shake me up.