OLIVER.
Wilt thou lay hands on me, villain?
ORLANDO.
I am no villain. I am the youngest son of Sir Rowland de Boys; he was my father, and he is thrice a villain that says such a father begot villains. Wert thou not my brother, I would not take this hand from thy throat till this other had pulled out thy tongue for saying so. Thou has railed on thyself.
ADAM.
[Coming forward.] Sweet masters, be patient. For your father’s remembrance, be at accord.
OLIVER.
Let me go, I say.
ORLANDO.
I will not till I please. You shall hear me. My father charged you in his will to give me good education. You have trained me like a peasant, obscuring and hiding from me all gentleman-like qualities. The spirit of my father grows strong in me, and I will no longer endure it. Therefore allow me such exercises as may become a gentleman, or give me the poor allottery my father left me by testament; with that I will go buy my fortunes.
OLIVER.
And what wilt thou do? Beg when that is spent? Well, sir, get you in. I will not long be troubled with you. You shall have some part of your will. I pray you leave me.
ORLANDO.
I no further offend you than becomes me for my good.
OLIVER.
Get you with him, you old dog.
ADAM.
Is “old dog” my reward? Most true, I have lost my teeth in your service. God be with my old master. He would not have spoke such a word.
[Exeunt Orlando and Adam.]