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yourself with your judgment, the fear of your adventure would counsel you to a more equal enterprife. We pray you, for your own fake, to embrace your own fafety, and give over this attempt.

Rof. Do, young fir; your reputation fhall not therefore be mifprised: we will make it our fuit to the duke, that the wrestling might not go forward.

Orla. I beseech you, punish me not with your hard thoughts: herein I confefs me much guilty, to deny so fair and excellent ladies any thing. But let your fair eyes, and gentle wishes, go with me to my trial: wherein if I be foil'd, there is but one fham'd that was never gracious: if kill'd, but one dead that is willing to be fo: I fhall do my friends no wrong, for I have none to lament me; the world no injury, for in it I have nothing; only in the world I fill up a place, which may be better fupplied when I have made it empty.

Rof. The little ftrength that I have, I would it were with you.

Cel. And mine to eke out hers.

Rof. Fare you well. Pray heaven I be deceiv'd in you! Cel. Your heart's defires be with you!

Cha. Come, where is this young gallant, that is fo defirous to lie with his mother earth?

Orla. Ready, fir; but his will hath in it a more modest working.

Duke. You fhall try but one fall.

Cha. No, I warrant your grace; you fhall not entreat him to a fecond, that have fo mightily perfuaded him from a first.


Orla. You mean to mock me after; you fhould not have mocked me before: but come your ways.

be mifprifed:]-fuffer any impeachment.


* If you mean.


Rof. Now, Hercules be thy fpeed, young man! Cel. I would I were invifible, to catch the ftrong fellow by the leg! [They wrestle.

Ref. O excellent young man!

Cel. If I had a thunderbolt in mine eye, I can tell who should down.

Duke. No more, no more.


[Charles is thrown. Orla. Yes, I beseech your grace; I am not yet well breathed.

Duke. How doft thou, Charles?

Le Beau. He cannot speak, my lord.

Duke. Bear him away. What is thy name, young man? Orla. Orlando, my liege; the youngest son of fir Rowland de Boys.

Duke. I would, thou hadst been fon to fome man else. The world esteem'd thy father honourable,

But I did find him ftill mine enemy:

Thou shouldst have better pleas'd me with this deed,
Hadft thou descended from another house.

But fare thee well; thou art a gallant youth;
I would, thou hadst told me of another father.

[Exit Duke, with his train.

Manent Celia, Rofalind, Orlando.

Cel. Were I my father, coz, would I do this?
Orla. I am more proud to be fir Rowland's fon,
His youngest fon ;-and would not change that calling,.
To be adopted heir to Frederick.

Rof. My father lov'd fir Rowland as his foul,
And all the world was of my father's mind:
Had I before known this young man his son,
I should have given him tears unto entreaties,
Ere he should thus have ventur'd.

Cel. Gentle cousin,


Let us go thank him, and encourage him :
My father's rough and envious disposition
Sticks me at heart.-Sir, you have well deferv'd:
If you do keep your promifes in love

But justly, as you have exceeded all promise,
Your mistress shall be happy.

Rof. Gentleman,

Wear this for me; one
That could give more,

Shall we go, coz ?


[Giving him a chain from her neck.

out of fuits with fortune;

but that her hand lacks means.

Cel. Ay:-Fare you well, fair gentleman.

Orla. Can I not say, I thank you? My better parts Are all thrown down; and that which here stands up, Is but a quintaine, a mere lifeless block..


Rof. He calls us back: My pride fell with my fortunes: I'll ask him what he would:-Did you call, fir?— Sir, you have wrestled well, and overthrown

More than your enemies.'

Cel. Will you go, coz?

Rof. Have with you :-Fare you well.

[Exeunt Rofalind and Celia. Orla. What paffion hangs these weights upon my tongue? I cannot speak to her, yet she urg'd conference.



Enter Le Beau.

Orlando! thou art overthrown;

Or Charles, or fomething weaker, masters thee.
Le Beau. Good fir, I do in friendship counsel you
To leave this place: Albeit you have deserv'd
High commendation, true applause, and love;

b out of fuits-out of her favour, difmifs'd her service.

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a quintaine,]-a butt, or mark for military exercifes; the ftake of

a trophy, which remains, when ftript of all its garniture.


Yet fuch is now the duke's "condition,
That he mifconftrues all that you have done.
The duke is humourous: what he is, indeed,
More fuits you to conceive, than me to speak of.
Orla. Į thank you, fir: and, pray you, tell me this;
Which of the two was daughter of the duke
That here was at the wrestling?

Le Beau. Neither his daughter, if we judge by manners;
But yet, indeed, the fhorter is his daughter :
The other is daughter to the banish'd duke,
And here detain'd by her ufurping uncle,
To keep his daughter company; whofe loves
Are dearer than the natural bond of fifters.
But I can tell you, that of late this duke
Hath ta'en displeasure 'gainst his gentle niece;
Grounded upon no other argument,

But that the people praise her for her virtues,
And pity her for her good father's fake
And, on my life, his malice 'gainst the lady
Will fuddenly break forth.-Sir, fare you well;
Hereafter, in a better world than this,


I shall defire more love and knowledge of you.
Orla. I reft much bounden to you: fare you well!

Thus muft I from the fmoke into the fmother;

From tyrant duke, unto a tyrant brother :-
But heavenly Rofalind!

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Cel. Why, coufin; why, Rofalind;-Cupid have mercy!

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Rof. Not one to throw at a dog.

Cel. No, thy words are too precious to be caft away upon curs, throw fome of them at me; come, lame me with reafons.

Rof. Then there were two coufins laid up; when the one fhould be lam'd with reasons, and the other mad without any.

Cel. But is all this for your father?

Rof. No, fome of it is for my child's father: Oh, how full of briars is this working-day world!

Cel. They are but burs, coufin, thrown upon thee in holiday foolery; if we walk not in the trodden paths, our very petticoats will catch them.

Rof. I could shake them off my coat; these burs are in my heart.

Cel. Hem them away.

Rof. I would try; if I could cry, hem, and have him. Cel. Come, come, wrestle with thy affections.

Rof. O, they take the part of a better wrestler than myself.

Cel. O, a good wish upon you! you will try in time, in defpight of a fall.-But, turning thefe jests out of fervice, let us talk in good earneft: Is it poffible on fuch a fudden you should fall into fo ftrong a liking with old fir Rowland's youngest fon?

Rof. The duke my father lov'd his father dearly.


Cel. Doth it therefore enfue, that you should love his fon dearly? By this 'kind of chase, I should hate him, for my father hated his father * dearly; yet I hate not Orlando.

my child's father :]-future husband-father's child.

a good with upon you !]-Heavens bless you.

dearly to your heart.

kind of chafe,]-method of argument. dearly;]-mortally.


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