Enter Orlando and Adam.
ADAM.
Dear master, I can go no further. O, I die for food! Here lie I down and
measure out my grave. Farewell, kind master.
ORLANDO.
Why, how now, Adam? No greater heart in thee? Live a little, comfort a little,
cheer thyself a little. If this uncouth forest yield anything savage, I will
either be food for it or bring it for food to thee. Thy conceit is nearer death
than thy powers. For my sake, be comfortable. Hold death awhile at the arm’s
end. I will here be with thee presently, and if I bring thee not something to
eat, I’ll give thee leave to die. But if thou diest before I come, thou art a
mocker of my labour. Well said, thou look’st cheerly, and I’ll be with thee
quickly. Yet thou liest in the bleak air. Come, I will bear thee to some
shelter and thou shalt not die for lack of a dinner if there live anything in
this desert. Cheerly, good Adam!
[Exeunt.]
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