bequeathed me by will but poor a thousand crowns, and, as
thou sayest, charged my brother on his blessing to breed me
well. And there begins my sadness. My brother Jaques he
5
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
10
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
15
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,
20
begins to mutiny against this servitude. I will no longer
endure it, though yet I know no wise remedy how to avoid
it.
ORLANDO
I remember, Adam, that's exactly
why my father only left me a thousand crowns in his will. And as you know, my father commanded my brother, Oliver, to make sure that I was brought up well—and that's where my sadness begins. Oliver keeps my brother Jaques away at school, and everyone says he's doing extremely well there. But he keeps me at home in the country—to be precise, he keeps me stuck at home but doesn't support me. I ask you, is this any way to treat a gentleman as nobly born as I am, to pen me in like an ox? His horses get treated better than I do—at least he feeds them and trains them properly, and spends a lot of money on trainers for them. All I've gained from his care is weight, which makes me as indebted to him as his animals on the manure pile are. He gives me plenty of nothing, and takes away everything else, letting me eat with his servants, refusing me what's owed me as his brother, and ruining my good birth with a poor education. This is what angers me, Adam. My father's temper and spirit, which I think I share, makes me want to mutiny against my brother's tyranny. I won't stand for it any longer, though I haven't yet figured out how to revolt.
Enter OLIVER
OLIVER enters.
ADAM
Yonder comes my master, your brother.
ADAM
Here comes my master, your brother.
ORLANDO
Go apart, Adam, and thou shalt hear how he will shake me up.
