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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: Thou shouldst have better pleas'd me with this deed, Hadst thou descended from another house. But fare thee well; thou art a gallant youth. I would thou hadst told me of another father.

[Exeunt Duke Fred. Train, and LE BEAU. 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,
And all the world was of my father's mind.
Had I before known this young man his son,
I should have given him tears unto entreaties,
Ere he should thus have ventur'd.
Cel.

Gentle cousin,
Let us go thank him, and encourage him :
My father's rough and envious disposition
Sticks me at heart.—Sir, you have well deserv’d:
If you do keep your promises in love
But justly, as you have exceeded all promise,
Your mistress shall be happy.
Ros.

Gentleman,

[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 means.Shall we go, coz? 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 Is but a quintaine, a mere lifeless blocks.

8 Is but a quintaine, a mere lifeless block.) A quintaine was originally a wooden object, generally in the figure of a man, used in martial exercises, as a mark against which weapons were directed. It afterwards became a sport, and was such in the time of Shakespeare.

Ros. He calls us back. My pride fell with my for

tunes;
I'll ask him what he would.—Did you call, sir?
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.

Re-enter LE BEAU.

0, poor Orlando! thou art overthrown.
Or Charles, or something weaker, masters thee.

Le Beau. Good sir, I do in friendship counsel you
To leave this place. Albeit you have deserv'd
High commendation, true applause, and love,
Yet such is now the duke's condition,
That he misconstrues all that you have done.
The duke is humorous : what he is, indeed,
More suits you to conceive, than me to speak of.

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 man-

ners;
But yet, indeed, the smaller is his daughter':
The other is daughter to the banish'd duke,
And here detain’d by her usurping uncle,
To keep his daughter company; whose loves
Are dearer than the natural bond of sisters.

more

- the SMALLER is his daughter :) The old copies have taller, which is certainly wrong, because Rosalind in the next scene says, that she is “ than common tall.” Pope altered it to shorter ; but, as Malone observes, smaller comes nearer to the old reading, and we may add, that shorter and “ daughter” read dissonantly.

But I can tell you, that of late this duke
Hath ta’en displeasure 'gainst his gentle niece,
Grounded upon no other argument,
But that the people praise her for her virtues,
And pity her for her good father's sake;
And, on my life, his malice 'gainst the lady
Will suddenly break forth.—Sir, fare you well:
Hereafter, in a better world than this,
I shall desire more love and knowledge of you.
Orl. I rest much bounden to you : fare you well.

[Exit LE BEAU.
Thus must I from the smoke into the smother;
From tyrant duke, unto a tyrant brother.-
But heavenly Rosalind !

[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 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 briars is this working-day world !

'No, some of it for my child's father.] This is according to the old copies ; but, as Coleridge suggests, (Lit. Rem. ii. 116,) we ought to read my father's child; an improvement both natural and delicate. However, with this observation, we feel bound, notwithstanding, to adhere to the ancient text.

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 lov'd 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.

Enter Duke FREDERICK, with Lords.
Look, here comes the duke.

Cel. With his eyes full of anger.
Duke F. Mistress, dispatch you with your safest

haste,
And get you from our court.
Ros.

Me, uncle? Duke F.

You, cousin : Within these ten days if that thou be'st found So near our public court as twenty miles, Thou diest for it. Ros.

I do beseech your grace,

Let me the knowledge of my fault bear with me.
If with myself I hold intelligence,
Or have acquaintance with mine own desires,
If that I do not dream, or be not frantic,
(As I do trust I am not) then, dear uncle,
Never so much as in a thought unborn
Did I offend your highness.
Duke F.

Thus do all traitors :
If their purgation did consist in words,
They are as innocent as grace itself.
Let it suffice thee, that I trust thee not.

Ros. Yet your mistrust cannot make me a traitor. 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 duke

dom;
So was I when your highness banish'd him.
Treason is not inherited, my lord ;
Or if we did derive it from our friends,
What's that to me? my father was no traitor.
Then, good my liege, mistake me not so much,
To think my poverty is treacherous.

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 smooth

ness, Her very silence, and her patience,

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