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 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 judgement, 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 it were with you. Cel. And mine, to eke out ners. 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 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 moře, 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. The world esteem'd thy father honourable, But I did find him still mine enemy: [deed, Thou shouldst have better pleas'd me with this Hadst thou descended from another house. But fare thee well; thou art a gallant youth; I would, thou hadst told me of another fathe [Exeunt DUKE FRED. Train, and Le Beat Cel. Were I my father, coz, would I do this Orl. I am more proud to be Sir Rowland' son, [calling, His youngest son;-and would not change that To be adopted heir to Frederick. Ros. My father loved Sir Rowland as his soul, Let us go thank him, and encourage him : [Giving him a chain from her neck. Wear this for me; one out of suits with fortune ;t [means.That could give more, but that her hand lacks Shall we go, coz? Cel. Ay-Fare you well, fair gentleman. parts Are 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? I cannot speak to her, yet she urg'd conference. O poor Orlando! thou art overthrown; To leave this place: Albeit, you have deserv'd Orl. I thank you, Sir; and, pray you, tell me this; Which of the two was daughter of the duke That here was at the wrestling? Le Beau. Neither his daughter, if we judge by manners; But yet, indeed, the shorter is his daughter: 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. 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. 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. 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 haste, And get you from our court. Ros. Me, uncle? They are as innocent as grace itself:- Tell me, whereon the likelihood depends. Duke F. Thou art thy father's daughter, there's enough. Ros. So was I, when your highness took his dukedom; So was I, when your highness banish'd hi Or, if we did derive it from our friends, Cel. Dear sovereign, hear me speak. Duke F. Ay, Celia; we stay'd her for your 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; And wheresoe'er we went, like Juno's swans, Still we 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 Duke F. You are a fool :--You, niece, provide yourself; If you out-stay the time, upon mine honour, And in the greatness of my word, you die. [Exeunt Duke FREDERICK and Lords. Cel. O, my poor Rosalind! whither wilt thou go? Wilt thou change fathers? I will give thee mine. I charge thee, be not thou more griev'd than I love Which teacheth thee that thou and I am one: Ros. Alas, what danger will it be to us, 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, man? Ros. I'll have no worse a name than Jove's And therefore look you call me, Ganymede. Cel. Something that hath a reference to my Ros. But, cousin, what if we assay'd to steal me; Leave me alone to woo him: Let's away, ACT II. [Exeunt. SCENE I.-The Forest of Arden. Enter DUKE senior, AMEINS, and other LORDS, in the dress of Foresters. Duke S. Now, my co-mates, and brothers in exíle, 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? Here feel we but the penalty of Adam, The seasons' difference; as, the icy fang, And churlish chiding of the winter's wind; Which when it bites and blows upon my body, Even till I shrink with cold, I smile, and say,This is no flattery: these are counsellors That feelingly persuade me what I am. Sweet are the uses of adversity; Which, like the toad, ugly and venomous, Wears yet a precious jewel in his head : And this our life, exempt from public haunt, Finds tongues in trees, books in the running brooks, 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 son? And yet it irks me, the poor dappled fools,- [headst The melancholy Jaques grieves at that; [ACT IT. That their discharge did stretch his leathern coat Almost to bursting; and the big round tears Duke S. But what said Jaques ? 1 Lord. O, yes, into a thousand similes. 2 Lord. We did, my lord, weeping and comUpon the sobbing deer. [menting Duke S. Show me the place; For then he's full of matter. 2 Lord. I'll bring you to him straight. SCENE 11.-A Room in the Palace. : Are of consent and sufferance in this. 1 Lord. I cannot hear of any that did see The ladies, her attendants of her chamber. [her. 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 Hesperia, the princess' gentlewoman, Duke F. Send to his brother; fetch that gal lant hither; If he be absent, bring his brother to me, [Exeunt. SCENE III.-Before OLIVER'S House. O, my sweet master, Ó you memory Of old Sir Rowland! why, what make you here? | To the last gasp, with truth and loyalty.- O, what a world is this, when what is comely Envenoms him that bears it? Orl. Why, what's the matter? Adam. O unhappy youth, Come not within these doors; within this roof The enemy of all your graces lives: Your brother-no, no brother; yet the sonYet not the son;-I will not call him sonOf him I was about to call his father,)Hath heard your praises; and this night he means To burn the lodging where you use to lie, Orl. Why, whither, Adam, wouldst thou have me go? Adam. No matter whither, so you come not here. Orl. What, wouldst thou have me go and beg my food? Or, with a base and boisterous sword, enforce The thrifty hire I sav'd under your father, Orl. O good old man; how well in thee ap- The constant service of the antique world, Inconsiderate. Blood turned from its natural course. SCENE IV.-The Forest of Arden. Enter ROSALIND in Boy's clothes; CELIA dressed like a Shepherdess, and 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 think, 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 old, in solemn talk. Enter CORIN and SILVIUS. Cor. That is the way to make her scorn you still. Sil. O Corin, that thou knew'st how I do love her! Cor. I partly guess; for I have lov'd ere now. Sil. No, Corin, being old, thou canst not guess; Though in thy youth thou wast as true a lover Cor. Into a thousand that I have forgotten. Or if thou hast not sat as I do now, Or if thou hast not broke from company, Ros. Alas, poor shepherd! searching of 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 anight to Jane Smile: and I remember the kissing of her batlet, and the cow's dugs that her pretty chopp'd hands had milk'd: and I remember the wooing of a peascod instead of her; from whom I took two cods, and, giving her them again, said with weeping tears, Wear these for my suke. We, that are true lovers, run into strange capers; but as all is mortal in nature, so is all nature in love mortal in folly. Ros. Thou speak'st wiser, than thou art 'ware of. Touch. Nay, I shall ne'er be 'ware of mine own wit, till I break my shins against it. Ros, Jove! Jove! this shepherd's passion Is much upon my fashion. Touch. And mine; but it grows something stale with me. Cel. I pray you, one of you question yond If he for gold will give us any food; I faint almost to death. Touch. Holla; you, clown! [man, Ros. Peace, fool; he's not thy kinsman. Touch. Your betters, Sir. Cor. Else are they very wretched. Good even to you, friend. Cor. And to you, gentle Sir, and to you all. Ros. I pr'ythee, shepherd,if that love, or gold, Can in this desert place buy entertainment, Bring us where we may rest ourselves, and feed: [press'd, Here's a young maid with travel much opAnd faints for succour. Cor. Fair Sir, I pity her, And wish, for her sake, more than for mine own, Cor. That young swain that you saw here but erewhile, That little cares for buying any thing. Ros. I pray thee, if it stand with honesty, Buy thou the cottage, pasture, and the flock, And thou shalt have to pay for it of us. Cel. And we will mend thy wages: I like this place, And willingly could waste my time in it. Cor. Assuredly, the thing is to be sold: [Exeunt. Jaq. I thank it. More, I pr'ythee, more. can suck melancholy out of a song, as a weazel sucks eggs: More, I pr'ythee, more. Ami. My voice is ragged;* I know, I cannot please you. Jaq. I do not desire you to please me, I do desire you to sing: Come, more; another stanza; Call you them stanzas? Ami. What you will, monsieur Jaques. Jaq. Nay, I care not for their names; they owe me nothing: Will you sing? Ami. More at your request, than to please myself. Jaq. Well then, if ever I thank any man, I'll thank you: but that they call compliment, is like the encounter of two dog-apes and when a man thanks me heartily, methinks, I have given him a penny, and he renders me the beggarly thanks. Come, sing; and you that will not, hold your tongues. Ami. Well, I'll end the song.-Sirs, cover the while; the duke will drink under this tree: he hath been all this day to look you. Jaq. And I have been all this day to avoid him. He is too dispútablet for my company: I think of as many matters as he; but I give heaven thanks, and make no boast of them. Come, warble, come. But winter and rough weather. made yesterday in despite of my invention. Jaq. I'll give you a verse to this note, that I Ami. And I'll sing it. Juq. Thus it goes: If it do come to pass, Ami. What's that ducdàme? Jaq. 'Tis a Greek invocation, to call fools into a circle. I'll go sleep if I can; if I cannot, I'll rail against all the first-born of Egypt. Ami. And I'll go seek the duke; his banquet is prepar'd. [Exeunt severally. SCENE VI.-The same. Enter ORLANDO and ADAM. Adam. Dear master, I can go no further: O, I die for food! Here lie I down, and measure out my grave. Farewell, kind master. Orl. Why, how now, Adam! no greater heart in thee? Live a little; comfort a little; cheer thyself a little: If this uncouth forest yield any thing savage, I will either be food for it, or bring it for food to thee. Thy conceit is nearer death than thy powers. For my sake, be comfortable; hold death awhile at the arm's end: I'll here be with thee presently; and if I bring thee not something to eat, I'll give thee *Ragged and rugged had formerly the same meaning + Disputatious. |