Por. If you had known the virtue of the ring, Or half her worthiness that gave the ring, Or your own honour to contain the ring, You would not then have parted with the ring. What man is there so much unreasonable, If you had pleased to have defended it With any terms of zeal, wanted the modesty To urge the thing held as a ceremony? Nerissa teaches me what to believe; I'll die for't, but some woman had the ring. Bass. No, by mine honour,madam, by my soul, No woman had it, but a civil doctor, Which did refuse three thousand ducats of me, And begg'd the ring; the which I did deny him, And suffer'd him to go displeas'd away; Even he that had held up the very life Of my dear friend. What should I say, sweet I was enforc'd to send it after him; I was beset with shame and courtesy; My honour would not let ingratitude So much besmear it: Pardon me, good lady; For, by these blessed candles of the night, Had you been there, I think, you would have begg'd The ring of me to give the worthy doctor. [lady? Por Let not that doctor e'er come near my Now, by mine honour, which is yet my own, Ner. And I his clerk; therefore be well advis'd, Which, but for him that had your husband's ring, Ner. And pardon me, my gentle Gratiano; For that same scrubbed boy, the doctor's clerk, In lieu of this, last night did lie with me. [ways Gra. Why, this is like the mending of highIn summer, where the ways are fair enough: What! are we cuckolds, ere we have deserve'd it? Por. Speak not so grossly.-You are all amaz'd: Here is a letter, read it at your leisure; It comes from Padua, from Bellario: There you shall find, that Portia was the doctor, Nerissa there, her clerk: Lorenzo here Shall witness, I set forth as soon as you, And but even now return'd: I have not yet Enter'd my house.-Antonio, you are welcome; And I have better news in store for you, Than you expect: unseal this letter soon; There you shall find, three of your argosies Are richly come to harbour suddenly; You shall not know by what strange accident I chanced on this letter. Por. How now, Lorenzo? Por. Gra. Let it be so; The first inter-gatory TOUCHSTONE, a Clown. SYLVIUS, Shepherds. WILLIAM, a country Fellow, in love with Audrey. ROSALIND, Daughter to the banished Duke PHEBE, a Shepherdess. AUDREY, a country Wench. Lords belonging to the two Dukes; Pages, Foresters, and other Attendants. The SCENE lies, first, near Oliver's House; afterwards, partly in the Usurper's Court, and partly in the Forest of Arden. Art First. SCENE I. An Orchard, near Oliver's House. Enter ORLANDO and ADAM. Enter OLIVER. Adam. Yonder comes my master, your brother. Orl. Go apart, Adam, and thou shalt hear how he will shake me up. Oli. Now, sir! what make you here? Orl. Nothing: I am not taught to make any Oli. What mar you then, sir? [thing. Orl. Marry, sir, I am helping you to mar that which God made, a poor unworthy brother of yours, with idleness. [naught awhile. Oli. Marry, sir, be better employed, and be Orl. Shall I keep your hogs, and eat husks with them? What prodigal portion have I spent, that I should come to such penury? Oli. Know you where you are, sir? Orl. As I remember, Adam, it was upon this fashion bequeathed me by will: But a poor| thousand crowns; and, as thou say'st, charged my brother, on his blessing, to breed me well: and there begins my sadness. My brother Jaques he keeps at school, and report speaks goldenly of his profit: for my part, he keeps me rustically at home, or, to speak more properly, stays me here at home, unkept: For call you that keeping for a gentleman of my birth, that differs not from the stalling of an ox? His horses are bred better; for, besides that they are fair with their feeding, they are taught their manage, and to Orl. Ay, better than he I am before knows that end riders dearly hired: but I, his brother, me. I know, you are my eldest brother; and, gain nothing under him but growth: for the in the gentle condition of blood, you should so which his animals on his dunghills are as much know me: The courtesy of nations allows you bound to him as I. Besides this nothing that he my better, in that you are the first-born; but so plentifully gives me, the something that na- the same tradition takes not away my blood, ture gave me, his countenance seems to take were there twenty brothers betwixt us: I have from me: he lets me feed with his hinds, bars as much of my father in me, as you; albeit, I me the place of a brother, and, as much as in confess, your coming before me is nearer to his him lies, mines my gentility with my education. reverence. This is it, Adam, that grieves me; and the spirit of my father, which I think is within me, begins! to mutiny against this servitude: I will no longer endure it, though yet I know no wise remedy bow to avoid it. Oli. What, boy! [young in this. Orl. Come, come, elder brother, you are too Oli. Wilt thou lay hands on me, villain. Orl. I am no villain: I am the youngest son of Sir Rowland de Bois; he was my father; and he is thrice a villain, that says, such a father my credit; and he that escapes me without some begot villains: Wert thou not my brother, I broken limb, shall acquit him well. Your browould not take this hand from thy throat, till ther is but young and tender; and, for your love, this other had pulled out thy tongue for say- I would be loath to foil him, as I must, for my ing so: thou hast railed on thyself. own honour, if he come in: therefore out of my Adam. Sweet masters, be patient; for your love to you, I came hither to acquaint you with father's remembrance, be at accord. al; that either you might stay him from his intendment, or brook such disgrace well as he shall run into; in that it is a thing of his own search, and altogether against my will. Oli. Let me go, I say. Orl. I will not, till I please: you shall hear me. My father charged you in his will to give me good education: you have trained me like a peasant, obscuring and hiding from me all gentleman-like qualities: the spirit of my father grows strong in me, and I will no longer endure it: therefore, allow me such exercises as may become a gentleman, or give me the poor allottery my father left me by testament: with that I will go buy my fortunes. Oli. And what wilt thou do? beg, when that is spent? Well, sir, get you in: I will not long be troubled with you: you shall have some part of your will: I pray you, leave me. Orl. I will no further offend you than becomes me for my good. Oli. Get you with him, you old dog. Adam. Is old dog my reward? Most true, I have lost my teeth in your service.-God be with my old master! he would not have spoke such a word. [Exeunt ORLANDO and ADAM. Oli. Is it even so? begin you to grow upon me? I will physick your rankness, and yet give no thousand crowns neither. Hola, Dennis! Enter DENNIS. 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. Enter CHARLES. a Cha. Good morrow to your worship. Oli. Good monsieur Charles!-what's the new news at the new court! Cha. There's no news at the court, sir, but the old news: that is, the old duke is banished by his younger brother the new duke! and three or four loving lords have put themselves into voluntary exile with him, whose lands and revenues enrich the new duke; therefore he gives them good leave to wander. Oli. Can you tell, if Rosalind, the duke's daughter, be banished with her father. Cha. O, no; for the duke's daughter, her cou sin, 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. Oli. Where will the old duke live? Cha. They say, he is already in the forest of Arden, and a many merry men with him; and there they live like the old Robin Hood of England: they say, many young gentlemen flock to him every day: and fleet the time carelessly, as they did in the golden world. Oli. What, you wrestle to-morrow before the new duke?. Oli. Charles, I thank thee for thy love to me, which thou shalt find I will most kindly requite. I had myself notice of my brother's purpose herein, and have by underhand means laboured to dissuade him from it; but he is resolute. I'll tell thee, Charles, it is the stubbornest young fellow of France: full of ambition, an envious emulator of every man's good parts, a secret and villanous contriver against me his natural brother; therefore use thy discretion; I had as lief thou didst break his neck as his finger: and thou wert best look to't; for if thou dost him any slight disgrace, or if he do not mightily grace himself on thee, he will practise against thee by poison, entrap thee by some treacherous device, and never leave thee till he hath ta'en thy life by some indirect means or other: for, I assure thee, and almost with tears I speak it, there is not one so young and so villanous this day living. I speak 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 paywrestle for prize more: And so, God keep your ment: If ever he go alone again, I'll never [Exit. worship. Oli. Farewell, good Charles.-Now will I stir for my soul, yet I know not why, hates nothing this gamester: I hope, I shall see an end of him: more than he. Yet he's gentle; never school'd, and yet learned; full of noble device; of all sorts enchantingly beloved; and, indeed, so much in the heart of the world, and especially of my own people, who best know him, that I am altogether misprised; but it shall not be so long; this wrestler shall clear all: nothing remains, but that I kindle the boy thither, which now I'll go about. [Exit. SCENE II. A Lawn before the Duke's Palace. Enter ROSALIND and CELIA. Cel. I pray thee, Rosalind, sweet my coz, be merry. 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 full weight that I love thee: if my uncle, thy banished father, had banished thy uncle, the duke my father, so thou hadst been still with me, I could have taught my love to take thy father for mine; so woulds't thou, if the truth of thy love to me were so righteously temper'd as mine is to thee. Ros. Well, I will forget the condition of my estate, to rejoice in yours. Cel. You know, my father hath no child but Cha. Marry, do I, sir; and I came to acquaint I, nor none is like to have; and, truly, when he you with a matter. I am given, sir, secretly to dies, thou shalt be his heir: for what he hath understand, that your younger brother, Orlando, taken away from thy father perforce, I will renhath a disposition to come in disguis'd against der thee again in affection; by mine honour, I me to try a fall: To-morrow, sir, I wrestle for will; and when I break that oath, let me turn monster: therefore, my sweet Rose, my dear Rose, be merry. Kos. From henceforth I will, coz, and devise Enter LE BEAU. Ros. With his mouth full of news. sports: let me see; What think you of falling their young. in love? Cel. Marry, I pr'ythee, do, to make sport withal: but love no man in good earnest; nor no further in sport neither, than with safety of a pure blush thou may'st in honour come off again. Ros. What shall be our sport then? Cel. Let us sit and mock the good housewife, Fortune, from her wheel, that her gifts may henceforth be bestowed equally. 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 honest; and those, that she makes honest, she makes very ill-favour'dly. Ros. Nay, now thou goest from fortune's office to nature's: fortune reigns in gifts of the world, not in the lineaments of nature. Enter TOUCHSTONE. Cel. No? when nature hath made a fair creature, may she not by fortune fall into the fire?Though nature hath given us wit to flout at fortune, hath not fortune sent in this fool to cut off the argument? Ros. 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 reason of such goddesses, hath sent this natural for our whetstone: for always the dulness of the fool is the whetstone of his wits.-How now, wit? whither wander you? Touch. Mistress, you must come away to your father. Cel. Were you made the messenger? Touch. No, by mine honour; but I was bid to come for you. 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. [your knowledge? Cel. How prove you that, in the great heap of Ros. Ay, marry; now unmuzzle your wisdom. Touch. Stand you both forth now: stroke your chins, and swear by your beards that I am knave. a 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 my 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. Then shall we be news-cramm'd. Cel. All the better; we shall be the more marketable. Bon jour, Monsieur Le Beau: What's [good sport. the news? Le Beau. Fair princess, you have lost much Cel. Sport? Of what colour? Le Beau. What colour, madam? how shall I Cel. Well said: that was laid on with a trowel. told you of good wrestling, which you have lost the sight of. Le Beau. You amaze me, ladies: I would have Ros. Yet tell us the manner of the wrestling. it please your ladyships, you may see the end; Le Beau. I will tell you the beginning, and, if 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. [three sons,Le Beau. There comes an old man, and his 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 they lie; the poor old man, their father, making such pitiful dole over them, that all the beholders take his part with weeping. he served the second, and so the third: Yonder Ros. Alas! Touch. But what is the sport, monsieur, that the ladies have lost? it Le Beau. Why, this that I speak of. is the first time that ever I heard, breaking Touch. Thus men may grow wiser every day! of ribs was sport for ladies. Cel. Or I, I promise thee. Ros. But is there any else longs to see this broken musick 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. [cessfully. 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 sucDuke 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 F. 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 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. Cel. Were I my father, coz, would I do this? Orl. I am more proud to be Sir Rowland's son, His youngest son :-and would not change that calling, To be adopted heir to Frederick. Ros. My father lov'd Sir Rowland as his soul, Let us go thank him, and encourage him: Ros. [Giving him a chain from her neck. Wear this for me; one out of suits with fortune: That could give more, but that her hand lacks Shall we go, coz. [means. 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; Is but a quintain, a mere lifeless block. 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. 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, 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. 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. [CHA. and OBL. wrestle. Ros. O excellent young man! Cel. If I had a thunderbolt in mine eye, I can tell who should down. [CHA. 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? Duke F. I would, thou hadst been son to some Ros. He calls us back: my pride fell with my I'll ask him what he would:-Did you call, sir?- I cannot speak to her, yet she urg'd conference. O poor Orlando! thou art overthrown; you To leave this place: Albeit you have deserv'd this; But yet, indeed, the smaller is his daughter: I shall desire more love and knowledge of you. |