ORLANDO As I remember, Adam, it was upon this fashion 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 Jacques 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.
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ORLANDO As I remember it, Adam, in my father's will I was left only a thousand crowns. And, as you say, my father gave my older brother Oliver the responsibility of taking care of me. And that is the source of my sadness. My other brother Jacques is away at school, and they say that he is profiting greatly from his education. But for my part, my brother insists that I stay here at home like a peasant. He is supposed to maintain me like a gentleman, but instead he treats me like an ox in a stall. My brother's horses are treated better than I am—at least they get training and riders along with their food. But I, his brother, get nothing from him but food and shelter. So the only thing I owe him like his livestock on their manure piles—is my physical growth. Besides this "nothing" that he so plentifully gives me, his constant frowning at me also takes from me those things that nature gave to me. He makes me eat with his servants, refuses to call me his brother, and denies me the education that I deserve. Adam, this is what grieves me. And lately I have felt my father's independent spirit—which I think is a part of me—beginning to rebel against this servitude. I will no longer endure it, though I don't know how to improve my situation.
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ORLANDO Marry, sir, I am helping you to mar that which God made, a poor unworthy brother of yours, with idleness.
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ORLANDO Well, sir, by being so idle I am helping you to undo something that God made: your poor, unworthy brother.
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OLIVER Marry, sir, be better employed, and be naught awhile.
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OLIVER Well, sir, do something more useful, and go away for a while.
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