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tament; with that I will go buy my fortunes. Jand have by underhand means laboured to dissuade Oli. And what wilt thou do? beg, when that is him from it; but he is resolute. I'll tell thee, spent? Well, sir, get you in: I will not long be Charles,-it is the stubbornest young fellow of troubled with you: you shall have some part of France; full of ambition, an envious emulator of your will: I pray you, leave me. every man's good parts, a secret and villanous Orl. I will no further offend you than becomes contriver against me his natural brother; thereme for my good. fore use thy discretion; I had as lief thou didst break his neck as his finger: And thou wert best
Oli. Get you with him, you old dog. Alam. Is old dog my reward? Most true, I look to't; for if thou dost him any slight disgrace, have lost my teeth in your service.-God be with or if he do not mightily grace himself on thee, he my old master, he would not have spoke such a will practise against thee by poison, entrap thee by word. [Exeunt Orlando and Adam. some treacherous device, and never leave thee till Oli. Is it even so? begin you to grow upon me? 'he hath ta'en thy life by some indirect means or I will physic your rankness, and yet give no thou- other: for, I assure thee, and almost with tears I sand crowns neither.-Holia, Dennis! speak it, there is not one so young and so villanous this day living. I speak but brotherly of him but him as is, i must blush and weep, and thou must look pale and wonder.
Cha. I am heartily glad I came hither to you: If he come to-morrow, I'll give him his payment: If ever he go alone again, I'll never wrestle for prize more: And so, God keep your worship!
Den. Calls your worship?
Oli. Was not Charles, the Duke's wrestler, here to speak with me?
Den. So please you, he is here at the door, and importunes access to you.
Oli. Call him in. (Exit Dennis.]-Twill be good way; and to-morrow the wrestling is.
Oli. Farewell, good Charles.-Now will I stir this gamester:2 I hope, I shall see an end of him; for my soul, yet I know not why, hates nothing more than he. Yet he's gentle; never school'd, and yet learned; full of noble device; of all sorts
Cha. There's no news at the court, sir, but the enchantingly beloved; and, indeed, so much in old news: that is, the old duke is banished by his the heart of the world, and especially of my own younger brother the new dake; and three or four people, who best know him, that I am altogether loving lords have put themselves into voluntary misprized: but it shall not be so long; this wrestler exile with him, whose lands and revenues enrich shall clear all: nothing remains, but that I kindle the new duke; therefore he gives them good leave the boy thither, which now I'll go about. [Exit. SCENE II-A lawn before the Duke's palace. Enter Rosalind and Celia.
Cha. Good morrow to your worship.
Oli. Good monsieur Charles! what's the new news at the new court?
Oli. Can you tell, if Rosalind, the duke's daughter, be banished with her father?
Cha. O, no; for the dike's daughter, her cousin, so loves her, being ever from their cradles bred together, that she would have followed her exile, or have died to stay behind her. She is at the court, and no less beloved of her uncle than his own daughter; and never two ladies loved as they do.
Cel. I pray thee, Rosalind, sweet my coz, be merry.
Oli. What, you wrestle to-morrow before the new duke?
Ros. Dear Celia, I show more mirth than I am mistress of; and would you yet I were merrier? Unless you could teach me to forget a banished father, you must not learn me how to remember any extraordinary pleasure.
Cel. Herein, I see, thou lovest me not with the
Oli. Where will the old duke live? Cha. They say, he is already in the forest of full weight that I love thee: if my uncle, thy baArden, and a many merry men with him; and nished father, had banished thy uncle, the duke there they live like the old Robin Hood of England: my father, so thou hads't been still with me, I could they say, many young gentlemen flock to him every have taught my love to take thy father for mine; day; and fleet the time carelessly, as they did in so would'st thou, if the truth of thy love to me the golden world. were so righteously temper'd as mine is to thee. Ros. Well, I will forget the condition of my es tate, to rejoice in yours.
Cha. Marry, do I, sir; and I came to acquaint Cel. You know, my father hath no child but I, you with a matter. I am given, sir, secretly to nor none is like to have; and, truly, when he dies, understand, that your younger brother, Orlando, thou shalt be his heir: for what he hath taken hith a disposition to come in disgui'd against me away from thy father perforce, I will render thee to try a fall: To-morrow, sir, I wrestle for my again in affection; by mine honour, I will; and credit: and he that escapes me without some bro-when I break that oath, let me turn mons'er: thereken limb shall acquit him well. Your brother is fore, my sweet Rose, my dear Rose, be merry. but young, and tender; and, for your love, I would Ros. From henceforth I will, coz, and devise be loath to foil him, as I must, for my own honour, sports: let me see; What think you of falling in if he come in: therefore, out of my love to you, I love?
Ros. What shall be our sport then?
came hither to acquaint you withal; that either Cel. Marry, I pr'ythee, do, to make sport withal: you might stay him from his intendment, or brook but love no man in good earnest; nor no further in such disgrace well as he shall run into; in that it port neither, than with safety of a pure blush thou is a thing of his own search, and altogether against may'st in honour come off again. my will. Oli. Charles, I thank thee for thy love to me, which thou shalt find I will most kindly requite. had myself notice of my brother's purpose herein, (2) Frolicksome fellow.
(1) A ready assent.
Cel. Let us sit and mock the good housewife, Fortune, from her wheel, that her gifts may henceforth be bestowed equally.
(3) Of all ranks.
Ros. I would, we could do so; for her benefits are mightily misplaced: and the bountiful blind) woman doth most mistake in her gifts to women.
Cel 'Tis true: for those, that she makes fair, she scarce makes nonest; and nose, that she makes honest, she makes very ill-favour'dly.
Ros. Nay, now thon goest from fortune's office to nature's: lortune reigns in gifts of the world, not in the lineaments of nature.
Cel. Pe. adventure, this is not fortune's work neither, but nature's; who perceiving our natural wits too dull to reason of such goddesses, hath sent this natural for our whetstone: for always the dullness of the fool is the whetstone of his wits.-How now, wit? whither wander you? Touch. Mistress, you must come away to your father.
Ros. Where learned you that oath, fool? Touch. Of a certain knight, that swore by his honour they were good pancakes, and swore by his honour the mustard was naught: now, I'll stand to it, the pancakes were naught, and the mustard was good; and yet was not the knight forsworn.
Cel. How prove you that, in the great heap of your knowledge?
Cel. No? When nature hath made a fair creature, may she not by fortune fall into the fire!-are coming to perform it. Though nature hath given us wit to flout at fortune, hath not fortune sent in this fool to cut off buried. the argument?
Ros. Indeed, there is fortune too hard for nature; when fortune makes nature's natural the cutter off of nature's wit.
Ros. Ay, marry; now unmuzzle your wisdom. Touch. Stand you both forth now: stroke your chins, and swear by your beards that I am a knave. Cel. By our beards, if we had them, thou art. Touch. By my knavery, if I had it, then I were: but if you swear by that that is not, you are not forsworn: no more was this knight, swearing by his honour, for he never had any; or if he had, he had sworn it away, before ever he saw those pancakes or that mustard.
Cel. Pr'ythee, who is't that thou mean'st? Touch. One that old Frederick, your father, loves. Cel. My father's love is enough to honour him.Enough! speak no more of him: you'll be whipp'd for taxation, one of these days.
Touch. The more pity, that fools may not speak wisely, what wise men do foolishly.
Cel. By iny troth, thou say'st true: for since the little wit, that fools have, was silenced, the little foolery, that wise men have, makes a great show. Here comes monsieur Le Beau.
Ros. As wit and fortune will.
Ros. Then shall we be news-cramm'd.
Cel. All the better; we shall be the more marketable. jour, monsieur Le Beau: What's
Cel. Well said; that was laid on with a trowel.
Cel. I could match this beginning with an old tale. Le Beau. Three proper young men, of excellent growth and presence ;-
Ros. With bills on their necks,-Be it known unto all men by these presents.
Beau. The eldest of three wrestled with Charles, the duke's wrestler; which Charles in a moment threw him, and broke three of his ribs, that there is little hope of life in him: so he served the second, and so the third: Yonder they lie; the poor old man, their father, making such pitiful
Cel. Were you made the messenger?
Touch. No, by mine honour; but I was bid to dole over them, that all the beholders take his part come for you. with weeping.
Le Beau. Fair princess, you have lost much good sport.
Cel. Of what colour?
Le Beau. You amaze me, ladies: I would have told you of good wrestling, which you have lust the sight of.
Ros. Yet tell us the manner of the wrestling. Le Beau. I will tell you the beginning, and, if it please your ladyships, you may see the end; for the best is yet to do; and here, where you are, they
Cel. Well, the beginning, that is dead and
Le Beau. There comes an old man, and his three sons,
Cel. Alas, he is too young: yet he looks successfully.
Duke F. How now, daughter, and cousin? are you crept hither to see the wrestling?
Ros. Ay, my liege? so please you give us leave. Duke F. You will take little delight in it, I can tell you, there is such odds in the men: In pity of the challenger's youth, I would fain dissuade him,
Enter Le Beau.
Ros. With his mouth full of news.
Cel. Which he will put on us, as pigeons feed but he will not be entreated: Speak to him, ladies: their young. see if you can move him.
Cel. Call him hither, good monsieur Le Beau.
Duke F. Come on; since the youth will not be entreated, his own peril on his forwardness. Ros. Is yonder the man?
Le Beau. Even he, madam.
[Duke goes apart. Le Beau. Monsieur the challenger, the prin cesses call for you.
Orl. I attend them, with all respect and duty.
Le Beau. What colour, madam? How shall I the wrestler ? answer you?
(2) Perplex, confuse.
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 I should have given him tears unto entreaties, for your years: You have seen cruel proof of this Ere he should thus have ventur'd. Gentle cousin, man's strength: if you saw yourself with your eyes,
or knew yourself with your judgm nt, the fear Let us go thank him, and encourage him : of your adventure would counsel you to a more My father's rough and envious disposition equal enterprise. We pray you, for your own Sticks me at heart.-Sir, you have well deserv'd: sake, to embrace your own safety, and give over If you do keep your promises in love, But justly, as you have exceeded promise, this attempt. Your mistress shall be happy. Ros.
Ros. Do, young sir; your reputation shall not Gentleman, therefore be misprized; we will make it our suit to [Giving him a chain from her neck. the duke, that the wrestling might not go forward. Ol. I beseech you, punish me not with your Wear this for me; one out of suits with fortune;* hard thoughts; wherein I confess me much guilty, That could give more, but that her hand lacks to deny so fair and excellent ladies any thing. But let your fair eyes, and gentle wishes, go with me Shall we go, coz? Ay:-Fare you well, fair gentleman. to my trial: wherein if I be foiled, there is but Orl. Can I not say, I thank you? My better parts one shamed that was never gracious; if killed, but one dead that is willing to be so: I shall do my Are all thrown down; and that which here stands [up, friends no wrong, for I have none to lament me; Is but a quintain, a mere lifeless block. Ros. He calls us back: My pride fell with my the world no injury, for in it I have nothing; only in the world Ill up a place, which may be better supplied when I have made it empty.
Rus. The little strength that I have, I would it
were with you.
Cel. And mine, to eke out hers.
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?
Or. Ready, sir; but his will hath in it a more modest working.
I'll ask him what he would:-Did you call, sir?
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 per
suaded him from a first.
Orl. You mean to mock me after; you should not have mocked me before: but come your ways. Ros. Now, Hercules be thy speed, young man! 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 more, no more.
Orl. Yes, I beseech your grace; I am not yet! well breathed.
Duke F. How dost thou, Charles?
Orl. Orlando, my liege; the youngest son of
sir Rowland de Bois.
Orlando! thou art overthrown;
Or Charles, or something weaker, masters thee.
Orl. I thank you, sir: and, pray you, tell me this;
Le Beau. Neither his daughter, if we judge by
To be adopted heir to Frederick.
Ros. My father lov'd sir Rowland as his soul, And all the world was of my father's mind: Had I before known this young man his son,
Hadst thou descended from another house.
Will you go, coz? Ros. Have with you:-Fare you well. [Exeunt Rosalind and Celia. Orl. What passion hangs these weights upon my tongue?
cannot speak to her, yet she urg'd conference. Re-enter Le Beau.
Duke F. I would, thou hadst been son to some
The world esteem'd thy father honourable,
But that the people praise her for her virtues,
Thou should'st have better pleas'd me with this Will suddenly break forth.-Sir, fare you well;
Hereafter, in a better world than this,
I shall desire more love and knowledge of you.
(1) Appellation. (2) Turned out of her service. (s) The object to dart at in martial exercises.
But yet, indeed, the shorter is his daughter:
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
(4) Temper, disposition.
away upon curs, throw some of them at me; come, [ Cel. I did not then entreat to have her stay, lame me with reasons. It was your pleasure, and your own remorse ;* Ros. Then there were two cousins laid up; when I was too young that time to value her, the one should be lamed with reasons, and the other But now I know her: if she be a traitor, mad without any.
Cel. But is all this for your father?
Ros. No, some of it for my child's father: 0, 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 could cry hem, and have him.
Cel. Come, come, wrestle with thy affections. Ros. O, they take the part of a better wrestler than myself.
Why so am I; we still have slept together,
Duke F. She is too subtle for thee; and her
Her very silence, and her patience,
When she is gone: then open not thy lips;
Cel. O, a good wish upon you! you will try in
cannot live out of her company.
Ros. No, 'faith, hate him not, for my sake.
Enter Duke Frederick, with lords.
And get you from our court.
I do beseech your grace,
Or have acquaintance with mine own desires;
Thus do all traitors;
Ros. So was I, when your highness took his
So was I, when your highness banish'd him;
Or, if we did derive it from our friends,
Cel. Dear sovereign, hear me speak.
[Exeunt Duke Frederick and lords.
Cel. I'll put myself in poor and mean attire,
Cel. What shall I call thee, when thou art a
Ros. I'll have no worse a name than Jove's own
And therefore look you call me, Ganymede.
Cel. Something that hath a reference to my state,
Duke F. Ay, Celia; we stay'd her for your sake, No longer Celia, but Aliena. Else had she with her father rang'd along.
(1) Inveterately. (2) Compassion.
Ros. But, cousin, what if we assay'd to steal The clownish fool out of your father's court?
Duke S. Now, my co-mates, and brothers in exile,
Hath not old custom made this life more sweet
That can translate the stubbornness of fortune
Duke S. Come, shall we go and kill us venison?
Indeed, my lord,
The melancholy Jaques grieves at that;
Under an oak, whose antique root peeps out
But what said Jaques
To that which had too much: Then, being alone, Left and abandon'd of his velvet friends;
(1) Barbed arrows. (2) Encounter. (3) Scurvy.
'Tis right, quoth he; this misery doth part
menting Upon the sobbing deer. Duke S.
Show me the place; 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 II-A room in the palace. Enter Duke Frederick, Lords, and attendants.
Duke F. Can it be possible, that no man saw them?
It cannot be: some villains of my court
1 Lord. I cannot hear of any that did see her. The ladies, her attendants of her chamber, Saw her a-bed; and, in the morning early, They found the bed untreasur'd of their mistress. 2 Lord. My lord, the roynish' clown, at whom so oft
Your grace was wont to laugh, is also missing.
Duke F. Send to his brother; fetch that gallant hither;
If he be absent, bring his brother to me,
Orl. Who's there?
O, my sweet master, O you memory'
Of old sir Rowland! why, what make you here?
The bony priser of the humorous duke?
No more do yours: your virtues, gentle master,
Orl. Why, what's the matter?