Adam.

Dear master, I can go no further: O, I die for food! Here lie I down, and measure out my grave^{3 note}

. Farewell, kind master.

Orl.

Why, how now, Adam! no greater heart in thee? Live a little; comfort a little; cheer thyself a little: If this uncouth forest yield any thing 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 cheerily: 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 any thing in this desert. Cheerly, good Adam!