ambition, an envious emulator of every man's good parts, a fecret and villanous contriver against me his natural brother; therefore ufe thy difcretion; I had as lief thou dift break his neck, as his finger. And thou wert beft look to't; for if thou doft him any flight difgrace, or if he do not mightily grace himself on thee, he will practise against thee by poifon; entrap thee by fome treacherous device; and never leave thee, 'till he hath ta'en thy life by fome indirect means or other; for I affure thee, (and almost with tears I speak it) there is not one so young and fo villanous this day living. I fpeak but brotherly of him; but should I anatomize him to thee as he 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 fo, God keep your Worship. [Exit. Oli. Farewel, good Charles. Now will I ftir this gamefter: I hope, I fhall fee an end of him; for my foul, yet I know not why, hates nothing more than he. Yet he's gentle; never fchool'd, and yet learned; full of noble device, of all Sorts enchantingly beloved; and, indeed, fo much in the heart of the world, and especially of my own people who beft know him, that I am altogether mifprifed. But it fhall not be fo, long; this wreftler fhall clear all; nothing remains, but that I kindle the boy thither, which now I'll go about, [Exit. Changes to an Open Walk, before the Duke's Palace. Enter Rofalind and Celia. Cel. Pray thee, Rofalind, fweet my coz, be merry; Rof. Dear Celia, I fhow more mirth than I am am mistress of; and would you yet I were merrier? unless you could teach me to forget a banish'd father, you must not learn me how to remember any extraordinary pleasure. Cel. Herein, I fee, thou lov'ft me not with the full weight that I love thee. If my uncle, thy banifhed father, had banished thy uncle the Duke, my father, fo thou hadst been still with me, I could have taught my love to take thy father for mine; fo would't thou, if the truth of thy love to me were fo righteously temper'd, as mine is to thee. Ref. Well, I will forget the condition of my estate, to rejoice in yours. Cel. You know, my father hath no child but I, nor none is like to have; and, truly, when he dies, thou shalt be his heir; for what he hath taken away from thy father perforce, I will render thee again in affection; by mine Honour, I will; and when I break that oath, let me turn monfter: therefore, my fweet Rofe, my dear Rofe, be merry. Rof. From henceforth I will, coz, and devife Sports: let me fee, what think you of falling in love? Cel. Marry, I pr'ythee, do, to make sport withal: but love no man in good earneft, nor no further in fport neither, than with fafety of a pure blush thou may'st in honour come off again. Rof. What fhall be our Sport then? Cel. Let us fit and mock the good housewife Fortune from her wheel, that her gifts may henceforth be bestowed equally. Rof. I would, we could do fo; 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 honeft; and those, that she makes honeft, fhe makes very ill-favoured. Rof. Nay, now thou goeft from fortune's office to nature's: nature's: fortune reigns in gifts of the world, not in the lineaments of nature. Enter Touchftone, a Clown. Cel. No! when nature hath made a fair creature, may she not by fortune fall into the fire? tho' nature hath given us wit to flout at fortune, hath not fortune fent in this Fool to cut off this argument? Rof. Indeed, there is fortune too hard for nature; when fortune makes Nature's natural the cutter off of nature's Wit. Cel. Peradventure, this is not fortune's work neither, but nature's; who, perceiving our natural wits too dull to reafon of fuch Goddeffes, hath fent this Natural for our whetstone: for always the dulnefs of the fool is the whetstone of the wits. How now, Wit, whither wander you? Clo. Miftrefs, you must come away to your father. Cel. Were you made the meffenger? Clo. No, by mine honour; but I was bid to come for you. Rof. Where learned you that oath, fool? Clo. "Of a certain Knight, that fwore by his ho ❝nour they were good pancakes, and fwore by his ❝honour the muftard was naught: " Now I'll stand to it, the pancakes were naught, and the muftard was good, and yet was not the Knight forfworn. Cel. How prove you that in the great heap of knowledge? your Rof. Ay, marry; now unmuzzle your wisdom. Clo. Stand you both forth now? ftroke your chins, and fwear by your beards that I am a knave. Cel. By our beards, if we had them, thou art. Clo. By my knavery, if I had it, then I were; but if you fwear by That that is not, you are not forfworn; no more was this Knight fwearing by his honour, for he never had any; or if he had, he had fworn fworn it away, before ever he faw thofe pancakes or that mustard. Cel. Pr'ythee, who is that thou mean'st? Clo. One, that old Frederick your father loves. Rof. My father's love is enough to honour him enough; fpeak no more of him, you'll be whipt for taxation one of these days. Clo. The more pity, that fools may not fpeak wifely what wife men do foolishly. Cel. By my troth, thou fay'ft true; for fince the little wit that fools have was filenc'd, the little foolery that wife men have makes a great Show: here comes Monfieur Le Beu. SCENE V. Enter Le Beu. Rof. With his mouth full of news. Cel. Which he will put on us, as pidgeons feed their young. Rof. Then fhall we be news-cram'd. Cel. All the better, we shall be the more marketable. Bonjour, Monfieur le Beu; what news? Le Beu. Fair Princess, you have loft much good Sport. Cel. Sport; of what colour? Le Beu. What colour, Madam? how fhall I answer you? Rof. As wit and fortune will. Clo. Or as the deftinies decree. Cel. Well faid; that was laid on with a trowel. Rof. Thou lofeft thy old smell. Le Beu. You amaze me, ladies; I would have told you of good wrestling, which you have loft the fight of. Rof. Yet tell us the manner of the wrestling. Le Beu. Le Beu. I will tell you the beginning, and, if it please your Ladyfhips, you may fee the end, for the beft 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 Beu. There comes an old man and his three fons, Cel. I could match this beginning with an old tale. Le Beu. Three proper young men, of excellent growth and prefence ; · Rof. With bills on their necks. Clo. Be it known unto all men by thefe prefents Le Beu. The eldeft of the three wrestled with Charles the Duke's Wreftler; which Charles in a moment threw him, and broke three of his ribs, that there is little hope of life in him: fo he ferv'd the Second, and fo the Third: yonder they lie, the poor old man their father making fuch pitiful Dole over them, that all the beholders take his part with weeping. Rof. Alas! Clo. But what is the Sport, Monfieur, that the ladies have loft? Le Beu. Why this, that I speak of. Clo. Thus men may grow wifer every day! It is the first time that ever I heard breaking of ribs was fport for ladies. 7 Cel. Or I, I promise thee. With BILLS on their necks: Be it known unto all men by thefe prefents.] The ladies and the fool, according to the mode of wit at that time, are at a kind of cross purposes. Where the words of one speaker are wrefted by another, in a repartee, to a different meaning. As where the Clown fays juft before- Nay, if I keep not my rank. Rofalind replies-thou lofeft thy old smell. So here when Rofalind had faid, With bills on their necks, the Clown, to be quits with her, puts in, Know all men by these prefents. She spoke of an inftrument of war, and he turns it to an inftrument of law of the fame name, beginning with these words: So that they must be given to him. Rof. |