Speak to him, ladies; see if you can move Aim. Cel. Call him hither, good Monsieur Le Beau. Duke F. Do so: I'll not be by. [DUKE goes apart. Le Beau. Monsieur the challenger, the princesses call for you.

Orl. I attend them, with all respect and duty. Ros. Young man, have you challenged Charles the wrestler ?

Orl. No, fair princess; he is the general challenger: I come but in, as others do, to try with him the strength of my youth.

Cel. Young gentleman, your spirits are too bold for your years: You have seen cruel proof of this man's strength: if you saw yourself with your eyes, or knew yourself with your judgement, the fear of your adventure would counsel you to a more equal enterprise. We pray you, for your own sake, to embrace your own safety, and give over this attempt.

Ros. Do, young Sir; your reputation shall not therefore be misprized: we will make it our suit to the duke, that the wrestling might not go forward.

Orl. I beseech you, punish me not with your hard thoughts; wherein I confess 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 foiled, there is but one shamed that was never gracious; if killed, but one dead that is willing to be so I shall 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 supplied when I have made it empty.

Ros. The little strength that I have, I would it were with you.

Cel. And mine, to eke out ners. Ros. Fare you well. Pray heaven, I be deceived in you!

Cel. Your heart's desires be with you. Cha. Come, where is this young gallant, that is so desirous to lie with his mother earth? Orl. Ready, Sir; but his will hath in it a more modest working.

Duke F. You shall try but one fall. Cha. No, I warrant your grace; you shall not entreat him to a second, that have so mightily persuaded him from a first.

Orl. You mean to mock me after; you should not have mocked me before: but come your

Cel. I would I were invisible, to catch the strong fellow by the leg.

[CHARLES and ORLANDO wrestle. Ros. O excellent young man! Cel. If I had a thunderbolt in mine eye, I can tell who should down.

[CHARLES is thrown. Shout. Duke F. No moře, no more. Orl. Yes, I beseech your grace; I am not yet well breathed.

Duke F. How dost thou, Charles? Le Beau. He cannot speak, my lord. Duke F. Bear him away. [CHARLES is borne out.] What is thy name, young man?

Orl. Orlando, my liege; the youngest son of Sir Rowland de Bois.

Duke F. I would, thou hadst been son to some man else.

The world esteem'd thy father honourable,
But I did find him still mine enemy:
Thou shouldst have better pleas'd me with this

[deed,

Hadst thou descended from another house. But fare thee well; thou art a gallant youth; I would, thou hadst told me of another fathe [Exeunt DUKE FRED. Train, and LE BEAR Cel. Were I my father, coz, would I do this Orl. I am more proud to be Sir Rowland' [calling,"

son,

His youngest son;-and would not change that To be adopted heir to Frederick.

Ros. My father loved Sir Rowland as his soul,
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 deserv'd:
If you do keep your promises in love,
But justly, as you have exceeded promise,
Your mistress shall be happy.
Ros. Gentleman,

[Giving him a chain from her neck. Wear this for me; one out of suits with fortune ;t [means.That could give more, but that her hand lacks Shall we go, coz?

Cel. Ay:-Fare you well, fair gentleman. Orl. Can I not say, I thank you? My better

parts

Are all thrown down; and that which here stands up,

my fortunes:

Is but a quintain, a mere lifeless block.
Ros. He calls us back: My pride fell with
[Sir?-
I'll ask him what he would:-Did you call,
Sir, you have wrestled well, and overthrown
More than your enemies.

Cel. Will you go, coz?
Ros. Have with you :-Fare you well.
[Exeunt ROSALIND and CELIA.
Orl. What passion hangs these weights upon
my tongue?

I cannot speak to her, yet she urg'd conference.
Re-enter LE BEAU.

O poor Orlando! thou art overthrown;
Or Charles, or something weaker, masters thee.
Le Beau. Good Sir, I do in friendship coun-

sel you

To leave this place: Albeit, you have deserv'd
High commendation, true applause, and love;
Yet such is now the duke's condition,§
That he misconstrues all that you have done.
The duke is humorous, what he is, indeed,
More suits you to conceive, than me to speak
of.

Orl. I thank you, Sir; 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 shorter is his daughter:
The other is daughter to the banish'd duke
And here detain'd by her usurping uncle,
To keep his daughter company; whose loves
Are dearer than the natural bond of sisters.
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 sake;
And, on my life, his malice 'gainst the lady
* Appellation.

Turned out of her service.
The object to dart at in martial exercises.
Temper, disposition.

[Exit.

SCENE III-A Room in the Palace.

Enter CELIA and ROSALIND.

Cel. Why, cousin; why, Rosalind ;-Cupid have mercy!-Not a word?

Ros. Not one to throw at a dog.

Cel. No, thy words are too precious to be cast away upon curs, throw some of them at me; come, lame me with reasons.

Ros. Then there were two cousins laid up; when the one should be lamed with reasons, and the other mad without any.

Cel. But is all this for your father? Ros. No, some of it for my child's father: O, how full of briers is this working-day world! Cel. They are but burs, cousin, thrown upon thee in holiday foolery; if we walk not in the trodden paths, our very petticoats will catch them.

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

Cel. Hem them away.

Ros. I would try; if I coule cry hem, and have him.

Cel. Come, come, wrestle with thy affections. Ros. O, they take the part of a better wrestler than myself.

Cel. Ŏ, a good wish upon you! you will try in time, in despite of a fall.--But, turning these jests out of service, let us talk in good earnest: Is it possible, on such a sudden, you should fall into so strong a liking with old Sir Rowland's youngest son.

Ros. The duke my father loved his father dearly.

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

Ros. No 'faith, hate him not, for my sake. Cel. Why should I not? doth he not deserve well?

Ros. Let me love him for that; and do you love him, because I do :-Look, here comes the duke.

Cel. With his eyes full of anger.

Enter Duke FREDERICK, with Lords. Duke F. Mistress, despatch you with your safest haste, And get you from our court.

Ros. Me, uncle?

Duke F. You, cousin;

Within these ten days it that thou be'st found So near our public court as twenty miles, Thou diest for it.

Ros. I do beseech your grace,

Let me the knowledge of my fault bear with
If with myself I hold intelligence, [me:
Or have acquaintance with mine own desires;
If that I do not dream, or be not frantic,
(As I do trust I am not,) then, dear uncle,
Never, so much as in a thought unborn,
Did I offend your highness.

Duke F. Thus do all traitors;

If their purgation did consist in words,

* Inveterately.

They are as innocent as grace itself:-
Let it suffice thee, that I trust thee not.
Ros. Yet your mistrust cannot make me a
traitor :

Tell me, whereon the likelihood depends. Duke F. Thou art thy father's daughter, there's enough.

Ros. So was I, when your highness took his
dukedom;

So was I, when your highness banish'd hi
Treason is not inherited, my lord;

Or, if we did derive it from our friends,

| What's that to me? my father was no traitor Then, good my liege, mistake me not so much, To think my poverty is treacherous.

Cel. Dear sovereign, hear me speak.
Duke F. Ay, Celia; we stay'd her for your
sake,

Else had she with her father rang'd along.
Cel. I did not then entreat to have her stay,
It was your pleasure, and your own remorse
I was too young that time to value her,
But now I know her: if she be a traitor,
Why so am I; we still have slept together,
Rose at an instant, learn'd, play'd, eat together;
And wheresoe'er we went, like Juno's swans,
Still we went coupled, and inseparable.

Duke F. She is too subtle for thee; and her
smoothness,

Her very silence, and her patience,
Speak to the people, and they pity her.
Thou art a fool: she robs thee of thy name;
And thou wilt show more bright, and seem
more virtuous,

When she is gone: then open not thy lips;
Firm and irrevocable is my doom
Which I have pass'd upon her; she is banish'd.
Cel. Pronounce that sentence then on me, my
cannot live out of her company. [liege;

I

Duke F. You are a fool :--You, niece, provide yourself;

If you out-stay the time, upon mine honour, And in the greatness of my word, you die. [Exeunt Duke FREDERICK and Lords. Cel. O, my poor Rosalind! whither wilt thou go?

Wilt thou change fathers? I will give thee mine. I charge thee, be not thou more griev'd than I

Which teacheth thee that thou and I am one:
Shall we be sunder'd? shall we part, sweet girl?
No; let my father seek another heir.
Therefore devise with me, how we may fly,
Whither to go, and what to bear with us:
And do not seek to take your change upon you,
To bear your griefs yourself, and leave me out;
For, by this heaven, now at our sorrows pale,
Say what thou canst, I'll go along with thee
Ros. Why, whither shall we go?
Cel. To seek my uncle.

Ros. Alas, what danger will it be to us,
Maids as we are, to travel forth so far?
Beauty provoketh thieves sooner than gold.

Cel. I'll put myself in poor and mean attire, And with a kind of umbert smirch my face; The like do you; so shall we pass along, And never stir assailants. Ros. Were it not better,

Because that I am more than common tall,
That I did suit me all points like a man?
A gallant curtle-ax upon my thigh,
A boar-spear in my hand; and (in my heart
Lie there what hidden woman's fear there will,)
We'll have a swashing and a martial outside;
As many other mannish cowards have,
That do outface it with their semblances.

Cel. What shall I call thee, when thou art a man?

Ros. I'll have no worse a name than Jove's own page,

And therefore look you call me, Ganymede. But what will you be call'd?

Cel. Something that hath a reference to my No longer Celia, but Aliena. [state; Ros. But, cousin, what if we assay'd to steal The clownish fool out of your father's court? Would he not be a comfort to our travel?

Cel. He'll go along o'er the wide world with

SCENE I.-The Forest of Arden. Enter DUKE senior, AMEINS, and other LORDS, in the dress of Foresters.

Duke S. Now, my co-mates, and brothers in exile,

Hath not old custom made this life more sweet Than that of painted pomp? Are not these woods

More free from peril than the envious court?
Here feel we but the penalty of Adam,
The seasons' difference; as, the icy fang,
And churlish chiding of the winter's wind;
Which when it bites and blows upon my body,
Even till I shrink with cold, I smile, and say,—
This is no flattery: these are counsellors
That feelingly persuade me what I am.
Sweet are the uses of adversity;
Which, like the toad, ugly and venomous,
Wears yet a precious jewel in his head :

And this our life, exempt from public haunt, Finds tongues in trees, books in the running brooks,

Sermons in stones, and good in every thing. Ami. I would not change it: Happy is your

son?

That their discharge did stretch his leathern

coat

Almost to bursting; and the big round tears
Cours'd one another down his innocent nose
In piteous chase: and thus the bairy fool,
Much marked of the melancholy Jaques,
Stood on the extremest verge of the swift brook,
Augmenting it with tears.

Duke S. But what said Jaques ?
Did he not moralize this spectacle?

1 Lord. O, yes, into a thousand similes. First, for his weeping in the needless stream; Poor deer, quoth he, thou mak'st a testament As worldings do, giving thy sum of more To that which had too much: Then, being alone, Left and abandon'd of his velvet friends; 'Tis right, quoth he; this misery doth part The flux of company: Anon, a careless herd, Full of the pasture, jumps along by him, And never stays to greet him; Ay, quoth Sweep on, you fut and greasy citizens; [Jaques, 'Tis just the fashion: Wherefore do you look Upon that poor and broken bankrupt there? Thus most invectively he pierceth through The body of the country, city, court, Yea, and of this our life: swearing, that we Are mere usurpers, tyrants, and what's worse, To fright the animals, and to kill them up, In their assign'd and native dwelling place. Duke S. And did you leave him in this contemplation?

2 Lord. We did, my lord, weeping and comUpon the sobbing deer. [menting

Duke S. Show me the place;

*

I love to cope him in these sullen fits,
For then he's full of matter.

2 Lord. I'll bring you to him straight.
[Exeunt.

SCENE 11.-A Room in the Palace. Enter Duke FREDERICK, LORDS, and Attendants. Duke F. Can it be possible, that no man saw It cannot be some villains of my court [them? Are of consent and sufferance in this.

:

1 Lord. I cannot hear of any that did see The ladies, her attendants of her chamber. [her. Saw her a-bed; and, in the morning early, They found the bed untreasur'd of their mis

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 F. 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. Orl. Who's there? Adam. What! my young aster?-0, my gentle master,

O, my sweet master, O you memory

O, what a world is this, when what is comely Envenoms him that bears it?

Orl. 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 sonYet not the son;-I will not call him sonOf 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.

Orl. Why, whither, Adam, wouldst thou have me go?

Adam. No matter whither, so you come not here.

Orl. 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.
Adam. But do not so: I have five hundred
crowns,

The thrifty hire I sav'd under your father,
Which I did store, to be my foster-nurse,
When service should in my old limbs lie lame,
And unregarded age in corners thrown;
Take that: and He that doth the ravens feed,
Yea, providently caters for the sparrow,
Be comfort to my age! Here is the gold;
All this I give you: Let me be your servant;
Though I look old, yet I am strong and lusty:
For in my youth I never did apply
Hot and rebellious liquors in my blood;
Nor did not with unbashful forehead woo
The means of weakness and debility;
Therefore my age is as a lusty winter,
Frosty, but kindly: let me go with you;
I'll do the service of a younger man
In all your business and necessities.

Orl." ( good old man; how well in thee ap

pears

The constant service of the antique world,
When service sweat for duty, not for meed!
Thou art not for the fashion of these times,
Where none will sweat, but for promotion;
And having that, do choke their service up
Even with the having: it is not so with thee.
But, poor old man, thou prun'st a rotten tree,
That cannot so much as a blossom yield,
In lieu of all thy pains and husbandry:
But come thy ways, we'll go along together;
And ere we have thy youthful wages spent,
We'll light upon some settled low content.
Adam. Master, go on; and I will follow thee,
+ Mansion, residence.

• Inconsiderate.

↑ Blood turned from its natural course.

SCENE IV.-The Forest of Arden. Enter ROSALIND in Boy's clothes; CELIA dressed like a Shepherdess, and TOUCHSTONE.

Ros. O Jupiter! how weary are my spirits! Touch. I care not for my spirits, if my legs were not weary.

Ros. I could find in my heart to disgrace my man's apparel, and to cry like a woman: but I must comfort the weaker vessel, as doublet and hose ought to show itself courageous to petticoat: therefore, courage, good Aliena.

Cel. I pray you, bear with me; I cannot go no further.

Touch. For my part, I had rather bear with you, than bear you: yet I should bear no cross, if I did bear you; for, I think, you have no money in your purse.

Ros. Well, this is the forest of Arden.

Touch. Ay, now am I in Arden: the more fool I; when I was at home, I was in a better place; but travellers must be content.

Ros. Ay, be so, good Touchstone:-Look you, who comes here; a young man, and an old, in solemn talk.

Enter CORIN and SILVIUS.

Cor. That is the way to make her scorn you still.

Sil. O Corin, that thou knew'st how I do love her!

Cor. I partly guess; for I have lov'd ere now. Sil. No, Corin, being old, thou canst not

guess;

Though in thy youth thou wast as true a lover
As ever sigh'd upon a midnight pillow:
But if thy love were ever like to mine,
(As sure I think did never man love so,)
How many actions most ridiculous
Hast thou been drawn to by thy fantasy?

Cor. Into a thousand that I have forgotten.
Sil. O, thou didst then ne'er love so heartly:
If thou remember'st not the slightest folly
That ever love did make thee run into,
Thou hast not lov'd:

Or if thou hast not sat as I do now,
Wearying thy hearer in thy mistress' praise,
Thou hast not lov'd:

Or if thou hast not broke from company,
Abruptly, as my passion now makes me,
Thou hast not lov'd: O Phebe, Phebe, Phebe!
[Exit SILVIUS.

Ros. Alas, poor shepherd! searching of thy

wound,

I have by hard adventure found mine own. Touch. And I mine: I remember, when I was in love, I broke my sword upon a stone, and bid him take that for coming anight to Jane Smile: and I remember the kissing of her batlet, and the cow's dugs that her pretty chopp'd hands had milk'd: and I remember the wooing of a peascod instead of her; from whom I took two cods, and, giving her them again, said with weeping tears, Wear these for

my suke. We, that are true lovers, run into strange capers; but as all is mortal in nature, so is all nature in love mortal in folly. Ros. Thou speak'st wiser, than thou art 'ware of.

Touch. Nay, I shall ne'er be 'ware of mine own wit, till I break my shins against it. Ros, Jove! Jove! this shepherd's passion Is much upon my fashion.

Touch. And mine; but it grows something stale with me.

Cel. I pray you, one of you question_yond If he for gold will give us any food;

I faint almost to death.

Touch. Holla; you, clown!

[man,

Ros. Peace, fool; he's not thy kinsman.
Cor. Who calls?

Touch. Your betters, Sir.

Cor. Else are they very wretched.
Ros. Peace, I say :-

Good even to you, friend.

Cor. And to you, gentle Sir, and to you all. Ros. I pr'ythee, shepherd, if that love, or gold, Can in this desert place buy entertainment, Bring us where we may rest ourselves, and

1

Jaq. I thank it. More, I pr'ythee, more. can suck melancholy out of a song, as a weazel sucks eggs: More, I pr'ythee, more.

Ami. My voice is ragged;* I know, I cannot please you.

Jaq. I do not desire you to please me, I do desire you to sing: Come, more; another stanza; Call you them stanzas?

Ami. What you will, monsieur Jaques. Jaq. Nay, I care not for their names; they owe me nothing: Will you sing?

Ami. More at your request, than to please myself.

Jaq. Well then, if ever I thank any man, I'll thank you: but that they call compliment, is like the encounter of two dog-apes: and when a man thanks me heartily, methinks, I have given him a penny, and he renders me the beggarly thanks. Come, sing; and you that will not, hold your tongues.

Ami. Well, I'll end the song.-Sirs, cover the while; the duke will drink under this tree: he hath been all this day to look you.

feed:

Cor. Fair Sir, I pity her,

And wish, for her sake, more than for mine own,

My fortunes were more able to relieve her:

But I am shepherd to another man,
And do not sheer the fleeces that I graze;
My master is of churlish disposition,

And little recks to find the way to heaven
By doing deeds of hospitality:
[feed,
Besides, his cote, his flocks, and bounds of
Are now on sale, and at our sheepcote now,
By reason of his absence, there is nothing
That will feed on: but what is, come see,
And in my voice, most welcome shall you be.
Ros. What is he that shall buy his flock and

you

pasture?

Cor. That young swain that you saw here but erewhile,

That little cares for buying any thing.

Ros. I pray thee, if it stand with honesty, Buy thou the cottage, pasture, and the flock, And thou shalt have to pay for it of us.

Cel. And we will mend thy wages: I like this place,

And willingly could waste my time in it.

Cor. Assuredly, the thing is to be sold:
Go with me; if you like, upon report,
The soil, the profit, and this kind of life,
I will your very faithful feeder be,
And buy it with your gold right suddenly.

SCENE V.-The same.

[Exeunt.

SONG.

Who doth ambition shun, [All together here. And loves to live i'the sun,

Seeking the food he eats,

And pleas'd with what he gets,

Come hither, come hither, come hither;
Here shall he see

No enemy,

But winter and rough weather.

made yesterday in despite of my invention.
Jaq. I'll give you a verse to this note, that I
Ami. And I'll sing it.
Jaq. Thus it goes:

If it do come to pass,
That any man turn ass
Leaving his wealth and ease,
A stubborn will to please,
Ducdame, ducdàme, ducdàme;
Here shall he see,
Gross fools as he,
An if he will come to Ami.

Ami. What's that ducdàme?

Jaq. "Tis a Greek invocation, to call fools into a circle. I'll go sleep if I can; if I cannot, I'll rail against all the first-born of Egypt. Ami. And I'll go seek the duke; his banquet is prepar❜d. [Exeunt severally.

SCENE VI-The same.

Enter ORLANDO and ADAM.

Adam. Dear master, I can go no further: O, I die for food! Here lie I down, and measure out my grave. 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'll here be with thee presently; and if I bring thee not something to eat, I'll give thee

*Ragged and rugged had formerly the same meaning + Disputatious.