DUKE SENIOR. Show me the place. I love to cope him in these sullen fits, For then he’s full of matter. FIRST LORD. I’ll bring you to him straight. [_Exeunt._] SCENE II. A Room in the Palace Enter Duke Frederick with Lords. DUKE FREDERICK. Can it be possible that no man saw them? It cannot be! Some villains of my court Are of consent and sufferance in this. FIRST LORD. I cannot hear of any that did see her. The ladies, her attendants of her chamber, Saw her abed, and in the morning early They found the bed untreasured of their mistress. SECOND LORD. My lord, the roynish clown, at whom so oft Your grace was wont to laugh, is also missing. Hesperia, the princess’ gentlewoman, Confesses that she secretly o’erheard Your daughter and her cousin much commend The parts and graces of the wrestler That did but lately foil the sinewy Charles; And she believes wherever they are gone That youth is surely in their company. DUKE FREDERICK. Send to his brother; fetch that gallant hither. If he be absent, bring his brother to me. I’ll make him find him. Do this suddenly! And let not search and inquisition quail To bring again these foolish runaways. [_Exeunt._] SCENE III. Before Oliver’s House Enter Orlando and Adam, meeting. ORLANDO. Who’s there? ADAM. What, my young master? O my gentle master, O my sweet master, O you memory Of old Sir Rowland! Why, what make you here? Why are you virtuous? Why do people love you? And wherefore are you gentle, strong, and valiant? Why would you be so fond to overcome The bonny prizer of the humorous Duke? Your praise is come too swiftly home before you. Know you not, master, to some kind of men Their graces serve them but as enemies? No more do yours. Your virtues, gentle master, Are sanctified and holy traitors to you. O, what a world is this, when what is comely Envenoms him that bears it! ORLANDO. Why, what’s the matter? ADAM. O unhappy youth, Come not within these doors! Within this roof The enemy of all your graces lives. Your brother—no, no brother, yet the son— Yet not the son; I will not call him son— Of him I was about to call his father, Hath heard your praises, and this night he means To burn the lodging where you use to lie, And you within it. If he fail of that, He will have other means to cut you off; I overheard him and his practices. This is no place; this house is but a butchery. Abhor it, fear it, do not enter it. ORLANDO. Why, whither, Adam, wouldst thou have me go? ADAM. No matter whither, so you come not here. ORLANDO. What, wouldst thou have me go and beg my food, Or with a base and boisterous sword enforce A thievish living on the common road? This I must do, or know not what to do. Yet this I will not do, do how I can. I rather will subject me to the malice Of a diverted blood and bloody brother.