ave looked on better days; if ever you have been
where bells have knolled to church; if you have ever sat at any good
man's feast; if ever from your eyelids you have wiped a tear, and know
what it is to pity or be pitied, may gentle speeches now move you to do
me human courtesy!" The duke replied, "True it is that we are men (as
you say) who have seen better days, and though we have now our
habitation in this wild forest, we have lived in towns and cities, and
have with holy bell been knolled to church, have sat at good men's
feasts, and from our eyes have wiped the drops which sacred pity has
engendered; therefore sit you down, and take of our refreshment as much
as will minister to your wants." "There is an old poor man," answered
Orlando, "who has limped after me many a weary step in pure love,
oppressed at once with two sad infirmities, age and hunger; till he be
satisfied, I must not touch a bit." "Go, find him out, and bring him
hither," said the duke; "we will forbear to eat till you return." Then
Orlando went like a doe to find its fawn and give it food; and presently
returned, bringing Adam in his arms; and the duke said, "Set down your
venerable burthen; you are both welcome:" and they fed the old man, and
cheered his heart, and he revived, and recovered his health and strength
again.

The duke inquired who Orlando was; and when he found that he was the son
of his old friend, Sir Rowland de Boys, he took him under his
protection, and Orlando and his old servant lived with the duke in the
forest.

Orlando arrived in the forest not many days after Ganymede and Aliena
came there, and (as has been before related) bought the shepherd's
cottage.

Ganymede and Aliena were strangely surprised to find the name of
Rosalind carved on the trees, and love-sonnets, fastened to them, all
addressed to Rosalind; and while they were wondering how this could be,
they met Orlando, and they perceived the chain which Rosalind had given
him about his neck.

Orlando little thought that Ganymede was the fair Princess Rosalind,
who, by her noble condescension and favour, had so won his heart that he
passed his whole time in carving her name upon the trees, and writing
sonnets in praise of her beauty: but being much pleased with the
graceful air of this pretty shepherd-youth, he entered into conversation
with him, and he thought he saw a likeness in Ganymede to his beloved
Rosalind, but that he had none of the dignified deportment