“Cousin,” said Rosalind, “what if we tried to steal the clownish fool out of your father’s Court? Would he not be a comfort to us in our travels?” Celia was delighted with the suggestion. “Touchstone would go with me all over the wide world,” she said. “Leave me alone to manage him. Now let us go and get our money and jewels together, and devise the fittest time and safest way to hide from the pursuit that will be made when my flight is known. Come! We go contentedly--to _liberty_, and not to banishment!” In the Forest of Arden On reaching home after the wrestling match, Orlando was met by the old retainer, Adam, who implored him to fly at once. The fame of his victory had already reached Oliver’s ears, and he was so incensed at the praises lavished on his brother that he was quite resolved to do away with him by some means or other. The faithful old man went on to say he had five hundred crowns, saved during his service with his late master, and he begged Orlando to take this money, and also to let him go with him as his servant. He was old, he said, but still strong and active, and could serve him as well as a younger man. Orlando was deeply touched by the fidelity and devotion of this old retainer, and willingly agreed to his request, saying that before the money was spent they would doubtless have found some humble means of support. So the outcasts departed: the young man left the home of his father, and the old man the place where he had spent more than sixty years of faithful service. They started not unhopefully, but matters did not go well with them. Scarcely knowing where to direct their steps, they plunged into the Forest of Arden, and there, in the depths of the greenwood, they lost their way. Worn out with fatigue, almost starving for food, they wandered on, till at last Adam’s strength failed, and he sank to the ground. “Dear master, I can go no further. Oh, I die for food!” he gasped. “Farewell, kind master!” With the tenderest words Orlando strove to cheer the poor old man, and, carefully placing him in a more sheltered spot, he dashed off almost desperate in his quest for food. Not far off in the forest a very different scene was taking place. In the bright days of early summer the days slipped pleasantly past with the banished Duke and his little band of faithful followers. Clad in their foresters’ garb, and living the simple life of outlaws, they hunted, sang, laughed, and feasted under the greenwood tree. The most notable of the band was a certain lord called Jaques, who had been a brilliant and reckless courtier in his early days, but was now a cynic and philosopher, half sad, half satiric, whose moods seemed to vary between biting humour and pensive melancholy. He had a sharp tongue, and took no pains to make himself agreeable, but his quaint moralisings afforded much entertainment to his companions, and especially to the Duke.