Oliver thanked Charles for his kind thought, and said he had himself tried by every means to dissuade Orlando, but that he was resolute. “I tell you, Charles, he is the stubbornest young fellow in France,” Oliver said maliciously, “full of ambition, envious of every man’s good parts, a secret and villainous contriver against me, his own brother. Therefore use your discretion. I had as lief you broke his neck as his finger. And you had better be on your guard, for if you do him any slight disgrace, or if he fails to win glory for himself, he will practise against you by poison, entrap you by some treacherous device, and never leave you till he has taken your life by some indirect means or other. For I assure you--and I speak it almost with tears--there is no one living at this day so young and so villainous.” Charles was naturally shocked to hear such a bad account of Orlando. “I am heartily glad I came to you,” he said. “If he comes to-morrow I’ll give him his payment;” and away he went, vowing to punish Orlando. “Now I’ll stir up the youngster,” thought Oliver. “I hope I shall soon see the end of him, for, though I don’t know why, I have an absolute hatred of the boy. Yet he is gentle; never schooled, and yet learned; full of noble device; enchantingly beloved by everyone--indeed, so much in the hearts of all, especially of my own people, that I am altogether thrown in the shade. But it shall not be so long; this wrestler will put all right. Nothing remains but to make the boy more eager for the wrestling, and that I’ll go and do at once.” Rosalind and Celia When the rightful Duke was sent into banishment, Frederick, the usurping Duke, allowed his daughter Rosalind to stay on at Court, to be a companion to his own young daughter Celia. The cousins had been brought up together from their cradles, and were so devoted to each other that if Rosalind had been sent into banishment Celia would either have followed her or died of grief at the separation. Celia strove by all the means in her power to cheer her cousin’s sorrow for the loss of her father, and assured her that when Duke Frederick died she would never consent to be his heir, but would immediately restore to Rosalind all that he had wrongfully taken away. Rosalind’s own nature was too bright and happy to waste time in useless repining, and her deep affection for her cousin made her respond very willingly to Celia’s loving attempts at consolation. The girls’ gay wit and merry chatter never failed, and their leisure moments found additional food for entertainment in the whimsical utterances of the Court fool, or jester, Touchstone. Under his apparent nonsense often lay hidden much quaint philosophy, and Touchstone found his fool’s motley a convenient cloak for levelling many a sharp-edged shaft of truth at his hearers.