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. Know you before whom, Sir? Orl. Ay, better than he I am before knows me. I know, you are my eldest brother; and, in the gentle condition of blood, you should so know me: The courtesy of nations allows you my better, in that you are the first-born; but the saine tradition takes not away my blood, were there twenty brothers betwixt us: I have as Cha. Marry, do I, Sir; and I came to acmuch of my father in me, as you; albeit, I con- quaint you with a matter. I am given, Sir, sefess, your coming before me is nearer to his re-cretly to understand, that 'your younger brother verence. Oli. What, boy! Ori. Come, come, elder brother, you are too young in this. 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 begot villains: Wert thou not my brother, I would not take this hand from thy throat, till this other had pulled out thy tongue for saying 80; thou hast railed on thyself. Adam. Sweet masters be patient; for your father's remembrance, be at accord. 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. Örl. 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 physic your rankness, and yet give no thousand crowns neither. Holla, 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 a good way; and to-morrow the wrestling is. Enter CHARLES. Cha. Good morrow to your worship. Oli. Good mousieur 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. Oh! no; for the duke'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 • Villain is used in a double sense; by Oliver for a worthless fellow, and by Orlando for a man of base ex traction. Oli. What, you wrestle to-morrow before the new duke? Orlando, hath a disposition to come in disguis'd against me to try a fall: To-morrow, Sir, I wrestle for my credit; and he that escapes me without some broken limb, shall acquit him well. Your brother is but young and tender; and, for your love, I would be loath to foil him, as I must for my own honour, if he come in: therefore, out of my love to you, I came hither to acquaint you withal; 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. 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 payment: If ever he go alone again, I'll never wrestle for prize more: And so, God keep your worship! [Exit. Oli. Farewell, good Charles.-Now will I stir this gamester: 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 schooled, 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, • Ardenne, a large forest in French Flanders. + Frolicksome fellow. 1 Of all ranks. thy banish'd 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 wonld'st thou, if the truth of thy love to me were so righteously tempered as mine is to thee. Ros. Well, I will forget the condition of my estate, to rejoice in your's. 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 monster; therefore, my sweet Rose, my dear Rose, be merry. Ros. From henceforth I will, coz, and devise sports: let me see; What think you of falling 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. Shall we 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 Cel. No? When nature bath made a fair creature, may she not by fortune fall into the Are-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. My father's love is enough to honour him. Enough! speak no more of him: you 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 bave makes a great show. Here comes Monsieur Le Beau. Enter LE BEAU. Ros. With his month full of news. Cel. Which he will put on us, as pigeons feed their young. Ros. Then shall we be news-cramm'd. Le Beau. Fair princess, you have lost much good sport. Cel. Sport of what colour! Le Beau. What colour, madam? bow shall ! answer you? Ros. As wit and fortune will. Cel. Well said; that was laid on with a trowel. Touch. Nay, if I keep not my rank,- Le Beau. You amazet me, ladies; I would have told you of good wrestling, which you have lost 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 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 knows unto all men by these presents. Le Beau. The eldest of the three wrestled with Charles, the duke's wrestler; winch Charles in a moment threw him, and broke Cel. Peradventure, this is not fortune's work three of his ribs, that there is little hope of bie neither, but nature's; who perceiving our na-in him; so he served the second, and so the tural wits too dull to reason of such goddesses, third: Yonder they lie; the poor old man, hath sent this natural for our whetstone: for their father, making such pitiful dole ever always the dulness of a fool is the whetstone them, that all the beholders take his part with of his wits.-How now, wit? whither wander weeping. yon ? 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. Cel. How prove you that, in the great heap of your knowledge? Ros. Ay, marry; now uumuzzle 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 the 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 thou mean'st? Touch. One that old Frederick, your father, loves. Ros. Alas! Touch. But what is the sport, monsieur, that the ladies have lost? Le Beau. Why, this that you speak of. Touch. Thus men may grow wiser every day! it is the first time that ever I beard, 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, mud they are ready to perform it. Cel. Yonder, sure, they are coming: Let as 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 be, madam. Cel. Alas! he is too young: yet he looks suc cessfully. 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 Cel. Call him hither, good Monsieur Le Beau. [DUKE goes apart. Orl. I attend them, with all respect and duty. Ros. Young man, have you challenged Charles the wrestler 1 Orl. No, fair princess; he is the general chal-I lenger: I come but in, as others do, to try with bim the strength of iny 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 misprized: 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 Cel. And mine, to eke out her's. Cel. Your heart's desires be with you. 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 Cel. I would I were invisible, to catch the strong fellow by the leg. [CHARLES and ORLANDO wrestle. Ros. O excellent young man ! But I did find him still mine enemy: Hadst thou descended from another house. Cel. Were I my father, coz, would I do 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 loved Sir Rowland as his And all the world was of my father's mind : Let us go thank him, and encourage him: [Giving him a chain from her neck. Wear this for me; one out of suits with for tune; + That could give more, but that her hand lacks means. Cel. Ay-fare you well, fair gentleman. Are all thrown down; and that which here my fortunes : I'll ask him what he would :-Did you call, I Sir ? Sir, you have wrestled well, and overthrown 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 ? cannot speak to her, yet she urg'd conference. Re-enter LE BEAU. O poor Orlando! thou art overthrown ; sel you To leave this place: Albeit, you have descrv'd Orl. I thank you, Sir; and, pray you, tell Which of the two was daughter of the duke Cel. If I had a thunderbolt in mine eye, That here was at the wrestling? can tell who should down. [CHARLES is thrown. Duke F. No more, no more. But yet, indeed, the shorter is his daughter: Orl. Yes, I beseech your grace; I am not yet The other is daughter to the banish'd duke, well breathed. Duke F. How dost thon, Charles? Orl. Orlando, my liege; the youngest son of Duke F. I would, thou hadst been son to The world esteem'd thy father honourable, And here detain'd by her usurping uncle, • Appellation. 4 Turned out of her service. The object to dart at in martial exercises. Disposition. But that the people praise her for her virtues, And pity her for her good father's sake; I shall desire more love and knowledge of you. [Exit. 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 precions 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: Oh! 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. Come, come, wrestle with thy affections. Ros. Oh they take the part of a better wrestler than myself. Cel. Oh! 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 bate him, for my father hated his father dearly; yet I hate not Orlando. Ros. No 'faith, hate him not, for my sake. Cel. Why should I not? doth he not deserve well? Ros. Let me love him for that; and do you love him, because I do: Look, here comes the duke. Cel. With his eyes full of anger. Enter Duke FREDERICK, with Lords. Duke F. Mistress despatch you with your safest baste, And get you from our court. Ros. Me, uncle ? Duke. F. You cousin ; Within these ten days if that thon be'st found So near our public court as twenty miles, Thou diest for it. Ros. I do beseech your grace, Ros. Yet your mistrust cannot make me a Tell me, whereon the likelihood depends. Res. So was I, when your highness took has So was I, when your highness banish'd him: Or, if we did derive it from our friends, Cel. Dear sovereign, hear me speak. sake, Else had she with her father rang'd along. Cel. I did not then entreat to have her stay, It was your pleasure, and your own remorse;" I was too young that time to value her, But now I know her if she be a traitor, Why so am I; we still have slept together, Rose at an instant, learn'd, play'd, eat together; Aud wheresoe'er we went, like Juno's swans, Still he went coupled, and inseparable. Duke F. She is too subtle for thee; and her smoothness, Her very silence, and her patience, When she is gone: then open not thy lips; I cannot live out of her company. If you out-stay the time, upon mine honour, [Exeunt Duke FREDERICK and Lords. Cel. O my poor Rosalind! whither wilt thos go; Wilt thou change fathers? I will give thee mise. I charge thee, be not thou more grieved than I am. Ros. I have more cause. Pry'thee, be cheerful: know'st thou not, the duke Hath banish'd me his daughter? Cel. Nol bath not? Rosalind lacks then the love Which teacheth thee that thou and I am ose: Ros. Alas! what danger will it be to us, Let me the knowledge of my fault bear with And with a kind of umber+ smirch my face: me: If with myself I hold intelligence, Or have acquaintance with mine own desires; Duke F. Thus do all traitors; • Inveterately. The like do you; so shall we pass along, Ros. Were it not better, Because that I ain more than common tail, A gallaut curtle-ax upon my thigh, A boar-spear in my hand; and (in my heart Lie there what bidden woman's fear there will We'll have a swashing and a martial outside; As many other mannish cowards have, Cel. What shall I call thee, when thou art a man ? Ros. I'll have no worse a rame than Jove's own page, And therefore look you call me, Ganymede. Cel. Something that hath a reference to my state; No longer Celia, but Aliena. 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 me; Leave me alone to woo him: Let's away, ACT II. [Exeunt. SCENE 1.-The Forest of Arden. Enter DUKE senior, AMIENS, and other LORDS, in the dress of Foresters. Duke S. Now, my co-mates, and brothers in exile, Hath not old custom made this life more sweet Than that of painted pomp? Are not these woods More free from peril than the envious court? Sermons in stones, and good in every thing. Ami. I would not change it: Happy is your grace, That can translate the stubbornness of fortune Into so quiet and so sweet a style. Duke S. Come, shall we go and kill us veni Have their round haunches gor'd. 1 Lord. Indeed, my lord, The melancholy Jaques grieves at that; coat Almost to bursting; and the big round tears • Barbed arrows. Duke S. But what said Jaques ? Did he not moralize this spectacle? 1 Lord. Ob yes, into a thousand similes. First, for his weeping in the needless stream; Poor deer, quoth he, thou mak'st a testament As worldings do, giving thy sum of more Left and abandon'd of bis velvet friends; Sweep on, you fat and greasy citizens; Look Upon that poor and broken bankrupt there ? Duke S. And did you leave him in this contemplation? 2 Lord. We did, my lord, weeping and commenting Upon the sobbing deer. Duke S. Show me the place; I love to cope him in these sullen fits, 2 Lord. I'll bring you to him straight. [Exeunt. SCENE VII.-A Room in the Palace. Enter Duke FREDERICK, LORDS, and Atten dants. 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. tress. 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, [Exeunt. |