Puslapio vaizdai
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AS YOU LIKE IT.

TH

ACTI, SCENE I.

HIS Play begins with a reflection on the firft, and I may add the principal, concern in life, the education of children. Men are often more fedulous in training the brutes of their kennels, their mews and their ftables, than they feem to be about the heirs of their blood, their fortunes, or their honours. In fad truth may it be faid, that we seldom meet with a jockey, an huntsman, or a fportiman, who is half fo well-bred as his horses, his hawks, or his hounds.

Orlando, fpeaking of the unkindness of his elder brother and guardian, fays,

For my part, he keeps me ruftically at home; or, to speak more properly, fies me here at home, unkept; for call you that keeping, for a gentleman of my birth, that differs not from the falling of an ox? His horfes are bred better; for befides 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 the animals on his dunghills are as much bound to him as I. Befides this Nothing that he fo plentifully gives me, the Something that Nature gave me his countenance feems 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.

SCENE III.

The laft fpeech, here, though it prefents us with no moral, I cannot pafs by without remarking, that it feems to be a perfect defcription of our author's

own character.

Oliver, fpeaking of Orlando, his younger brother, fays,

Yet he's gentle; never fchooled, and yet learned; full of noble device; and of all forts enchantingly beloved

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AS YOU LIKE IT.

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OLIVER, eldest Son to Sir Rowland de Boys.

ORLANDO, his brother.

ADAM, an old Steward of Sir Rowland de Boys. TOUCHSTONE, an Attendant on Celia and Rofalind,

CORIN, an old Shepherd.

SYLVIUS, a young one.

WOMEN.

ROSALIND, Daughter to the Duke.

CELIA, Daughter to Frederick, his Brother, the Ufurper.

AS YOU LIKE IT.

T

ACT I, SCENE I.

HIS Play begins with a reflection on the first, and I may add the principal, concern in life, the education of children. Men are often more fedulous in training the brutes of their kennels, their mews and their ftables, than they feem to be about the heirs of their blood, their fortunes, or their honours. In fad truth may it be faid, that we seldom meet with a jockey, an huntsman, or a fportiman, who is half fo well-bred as his horfes, his hawks, or his hounds.

Orlando, fpeaking of the unkindness of his elder brother and guardian, fays,

For my part, he keeps me ruftically at home; or, to speak more properly, flies me here at home, unkept; for call you that keeping, for a gentleman of my birth, that differs not from the falling of an ox? His horfes are bred better; for befides 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 the animals on his dunghills are as much bound to him as I. Befides this Nothing that he fo plentifully gives me, the Something that Nature gave me his countenance feems 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.

SCENE III.

The laft fpeech, here, though it prefents us with no moral, I cannot pafs by without remarking, that it feems to be a perfect description of our author's own character.

Oliver, speaking of Orlando, his younger brother, fays,

Yet he's gentle; never fchooled, and yet learned; full of noble device; and of all forts enchantingly beloved

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