Ref. Young man have you challeng'd Charles the wrestler? Orla. No, fair Princefs; he is the general challenger: I come but in, as others do, to try with him the ftrength of my youth. Cel. Young Gentleman, your spirits are too bold for your years. You have seen cruel proof of this man's ftrength. If you faw yourfelf with your own eyes (6), or knew yourself with your judgment, the fear of your adventure would counfel you to a more equal enterprize. We pray you, for your own fake, to embrace your own fafety, and give over this attempt. Rof. Do, young Sir; your reputation fhall not therefore be mifprifed. We will make it our fuit to the Duke, that the wrestling might not go forward. Orla. (7) I befeech you, punish me not with your hard thoughts, wherein I confefs me much guilty, to deny fo fair and excellent ladies any thing. But Tet your fair eyes and gentle wishes go with me to my trial, wherein if I be foil'd, there is but one tham'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. (6) -If you saw yourself with YOUR eyes, or knew yourself with YOUR judgment,] Abfurd! The fenfe requires that we should read, our eyes, and OUR judgment. The argument is, Your pir ts are too bold, and therefore your judgment deceives you; but did you fee and know yourself with our more impartial judgment you would forbear. WARBURTON. I cannot find the abfurdity of the prefent reading. If you avere not blinded and intoxicated, says the princess, with the spirit of enterprife, if you could use your own eyes to fee, or your own judgment to know your felf, the fear of your adventure would counsel you. (7) I beseech you pun:fo me not, &c. I fhould wish to read, I be feech you, punish me not with your hard thoughts. Therein I confefs myself much guilty to deny fo fair and excellent ladies any thing Rof. Rof. Fare you well. Pray heav'n, 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, Sir. But his Will hath in it a more modeft working. Duke. You fhall try but one Fall. Cha. No-I warrant your Grace; you fhall not entreat him to a second, that have fo mightily perfuaded him from a first. Orla. You mean to mock me after; you should not have mocked me before; but come your ways. Rof. Now Hercules be thy fpeed, young man! Cel. I would I were invifible, ta catch the ftrong fellow by the leg! {they wrestle. Rof. O excellent young man! Cel. If I had a thunderbolt in mine eye, I can tell who fhould down. [bout. [Charles is thrown. Duke. No more, no more. well breathed. Duke. How doft thou, Charles ? Le Beu. He cannot speak, my Lord. I am not yet 2 Duke. Bear him away.-What is thy name, young man ? Orla. Orlando, my liege, the youngest son of Sir Rovland de Boys. Duke. I would, thou hadst been fon to fome man elfe! The world esteem'd thy Father honourable, But I did find him ftill mine enemy: Thou shouldft have better pleas'd me with this deed, But fare thee well, thou art a gallant youth; [Exit Duke, with his train. SCENE SCENE VII. Manent Celia, Rofalind, Orlando. Rof. My father lov'd Sir Roauland as his foul, Cel. Gentle Coufin, Let us go thank him and encourage him But juftly as you have exceeded all promise, Rof. Gentleman, Wear this for me; one out of fuits with fortune (8), That could give more, but that her hand lacks means. -Shall we go, coz? [Giving him a chain from her Neck. Cel. Ay-Fare you well, fair gentleman. Orla. Can I not fay, I thank you ?-my better parts Are all thrown down; and that, which here ftands up, Is but a quintaine (9), a meer lifeless block. (8) one out of fuits with fortune,] This feems an allufion to cards, where he that has no more cards to play of any particular fort is out of fuit. (9) Is but a quintaine, a meer feless block.] A Quintaine was a Pft or Butt ft up for feveral kinds of martial exercifes, against which they threw their darts and exercised their arms The allufion is beautiful, I am, fays Orlando, only a quintaine, a lifeless black on ulich love only exercises bis arms in jeft; the great difparity of condition between Rofalind and me, not fuffering me to hope that love will ever make a ferious matter of it. The famous fatiit Regnier, who lived about the time of our author, ufes the fame metaphor, on the fame fubject, tho' the thought he different. Et qui depuis dix an, jfqu' en fes derniers jours, WARBURTON. Rof. Rof. He calls us back fortunes, my pride fell with my I'll ask him what he would.-Did you call, Sir? Sir. you have wrestled well, and overthrown More than your enemies. Cel. Will you go, coz? Ref. 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 Beu. O poor Orlando! thou art overthrown ; Le Beu. Neither his daughter, if we judge by man ners; But, yet, indeed, the fhorter is his daughter. But that the people praise her for her virtues, (1) the Duke's condition,] The word condition means character, temper, difpofition. So Antbonio, the Merchant of Venice, is called by his friend the best conditioned man. Will fuddenly break forth.-Sir, fare ye well; I fhall defire more love and knowledge of you. [Exit. Orla. I reft much bounden to you: fare ye well! Thus must I from the fmoke into the fmother From tyrant Duke unto a tyrant Brother: But, heav'nly Rofalind!· SCENE VIII. Changes to an apartment in the Palace. Re-enter Celia and Rofalind. [Exit. Cel. W mercy-not a word! THY, Coufin; why, Rofalind-Cupid have 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 reasons. Rof. Then there were two Coufins laid up; when the one should 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 father's child (2). Oh, how full of briars is this working-day world! Cel. They are but burs, coulin, thrown upon thee in holiday foolery; if we walk not in the trodden paths our very petticoats will catch them. Ro. I could shake them off my coat; thefe burs my heart. are in 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 Wreftler than myself. Cel. O, a good with upon you! you will try in time, in defpight of a Fall. But turning these jefts out of fervice, let us talk in good earneft. Is it poffible (2)- for my father's child.] The old Editions have it, for my child's father, that is, as it is explained by Mr. Theobald, for my future bufband. VOL. II. |