and, if it please your ladyships, you may see the end; for the best is yet to do; and here, where you are, they are coming to perform it. Cel. Well,-the beginning, that is dead and buried. Le Beau. There comes an old man, and his three sons,-~ 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,Le Beau. The eldest of the 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 dole over them, that all the beholders take his part with weeping. Ros. Alas! Touch. But what is the sport, monsieur, that the ladies have lost? Le Beau. Why, this that I speak of. Touch. Thus men may grow wiser every day! it is the first time that ever I heard, breaking of ribs was sport for ladies. Cel. Or I, I promise thee. Ros. But is there any else longs to see this broken music in his sides? is there yet another dotes upon rib-breaking?-Shall we see this wrestling, cousin? Le Beau. You must, if you stay here: for here is the place appointed for the wrestling, and they are ready to perform it. Cel. Yonder, sure, they are coming: Let us now stay and see it. Flourish, Enter Duke FREDERICK, Lords, ORLANDO, CHARLES, and Attendants. 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. 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, but he will not be entreated: Speak to him, ladies; see if you can move him. 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 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 judgment, 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 misprised: 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 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? 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. Örl. 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? 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. challenged The world esteem'd thy father honourable, do. But I did find him still mine enemy: Gentleman, [Giving him a chain from her neck. Wear this for me; one out of suits with for[lacks means. tune +; That could give more, but that her hand Shall we go, coz? Cel. Ay-Fare you well, fair gentleman. [ter parts Orl. Can I not say, I thank you? My betAre all thrown down; and that which here stands up, Is but a quintain, a mere lifeless block. Ros. He calls us back: My pride fell with my fortunes: [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? [ence. I cannot speak to her, yet she urged confer- O poor Orlando! thou art overthrown; of. Le Beau. Neither his daughter, if we judge by manners; But yet, indeed, the shorter is his daughter: Hereafter, in a better world than this, 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. Res. I would try; if I could cry hem, and have him. Cel. Come, come, wrestle with thy affec tions. Ros. O, they take the part of a better wrestler than myself. Cel. O, 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. Appellation. + Turned out of her service. exercises. § Temper, disposition. The object to dart at in martial || Inveterately. If with myself I hold intelligence, Or have acquaintance with mine own desires; Duke F. Thus do all traitors; Tell me, whereon the likelihood depends. Cel. Dear sovereign, hear me speak. Else had she with her father rang'd along. And wheresoe'er we went, like Juno's swans, Her very silence, and her patience, When she is gone: then open not thy lips; * Compassion. Cel. Pronounce that sentence then on me, I cannot live out of her company. [my liege; Duke F. You are a fool:-You, niece, pro vide yourself; If you out-stay the time, upon mine honour, the love [duke Which teacheth thee that thou and I am one: Cel. 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-axe 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 mau? [own page, Ros. I'll have no worse a name than Jove's 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 Leave me alone to woo him: Let's away, [me; And get our jewels and our wealth together; Devise the fittest time, and safest way To hide us from pursuit that will be made After my flight: Now go we in content, To liberty, and not to banishment. + A dusky, yellow-coloured earth. t Cutlass. [Exeunt. Swaggering. SCENE I. The Forest of Arden. ACT II. And never stays to greet him; Ay, quoth Jaques, Enter DUKE senior, AMIENS, & other Lords,"Tis just the fashion: Wherefore do you look in the dress of Foresters. Duke S. Now, my co-mates, and brothers Hath not old custom made this life more sweet Sermons in stones, and good in every thing. your grace, Upon that poor and broken bankrupt there? 2 Lord. We did, my lord, weeping and com- I love to copet him in these sullen fits, 2 Lord. I'll bring you to him straight. [Exeunt. SCENE II. A Room in the Palace. Enter Duke FREDERICK, Lords, & Attendants. Are of consent and sufferance in this. [her. Your grace was wont to laugh, is also missing. Duke F. Send to his brother; fetch that That can translate the stubbornness of fortune Barbed arrows. + Encounter. I'll make him find him: do this suddenly; [Exeunt. SCENE III. Before Oliver's House. Why would you be so fond ¶ to overcome + Scurvy. Know you not, master, to some kind of men Orl. Why, what's the matter? means To burn the lodging where you use to lie, Or, with a base and boisterous sword, enforce The thrifty hire I sav'd under your father, [pears Orl. O good old man; how well in thee apThe 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 prunest 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. To the last gasp, with truth and loyalty.— SCENE IV. The Forest of Arden, Enter ROSALIND in boy's clothes, CELIA drest like a Shepherdess, & 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 thirk, 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 od, in solemn talk. Enter CORIN and SILVIUS. Cor. That is the way to make her scorn you still. [love her! Sil. O Corin, that thou knew'st how I do Cor. I partly guess; for I have loved ere now. Sil. No,Corin, being old, thou canst notguess; 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 heartily: If thou rememb'rest not the slightest folly That ever love did make thee run into, Thou hast not loved : Or if thou hast not sat as I do now, Or if thou hast not broke from company, 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 a-night § to Jane Smile: and I remember the kissing of Blood turned from its natural course. money stamped with a cross. In the night. i A piece of |