mispris'd: we will make it our suit to the duke that the wrestling might not go forward.

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Orl. I beseech you, punish me not with your hard thoughts; wherein I confess me much guilty, to deny so fàir and excellent ladies àny thing. But let your fair eyes and gentle wishes go with me to my trial: wherein if I be foil'd, there is but one shamed that was never gracious; if kill'd, 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 Ì have made it empty. 210 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 deceiv'd in you!
Cel. Your heart's desire 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.

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Cha. No, I warrant your grace, you shall not entreat him to a second, that have so mightily persuaded him from a first. Orl. An you mean to mock me after, you should not have mock'd 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. [They wrestle. Ros. O excellent young man! Cel. If I had a thunderbolt in mine eye, I can tell who should down. [Shout. Charles is thrown. 230

Duke F. No more, no more.

Orl. Yes, I beseech your grace: I am not yet well breath'd.
Duke F. How dost thou, Charles?

He cannot speak.

Bear him away. What is thy name, young man ?

Orl. Orlando, my liege; the youngest son of Sir Rowland de Boys.

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.

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[Exeunt Duke Fred., and train.

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,

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[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 quintain, a mere lifeless block.

Ros. He calls us back: my pride fell with my
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.

fortunes;

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[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!

Or Charles, or something weaker, masters thee.

A room in the Palace.

Enter CELIA and ROSALIND.

[Exit.

Cel. Why, cousin! why, Rosalind! Cupid have mercy! not a word ?

Ros. Not one to throw at a dog.

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Cel. No, thy words are too precious to be cast away upon cùrs; throw some of them at mè. 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 is for my father's child. 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 còat: these burs are in my 291 heart.

Cel. Hem them away.

Ros. I would try, if I could cry 'hem,' and have him.

Cel. "Why, cousin! why, Rosalind !-Cupid have mercy -Not a word?"

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.

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Cel. Doth it therefore ensue that yoù should love his sòn dearly? By this kind of chase, I should hàte him, for father my hated his father dearly; yet I hate not Orlando.

Ros. No, faith, hate him not, for sake.

my

Cel. Why should I not? Doth he not desèrve well ?
Ros. Let mè 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, dispatch you with your safest haste, And get you from our court.

Ros.

Duke F.

Mè, uncle ?

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 drèam, or be not fràntic,-
As I do trust I am not-then, dear uncle,
Never so much as in a thòught unborn
Did I offend your highness.

Duke F.

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

Ros. Yet your mistrùst cannot màke me a tràitor.

Tell me whereon the likelihood depends.

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Duke F. Thou art thy father's daughter; there's enough. Ros. Sò was I when your highness took his dùkedom;

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 smoothness,

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330

340

Her very silence, and her patience

Speak to the people, and thèy pity her.

Thou art a fool: she robs thee of thy name;

And thou wilt show more bright, and seem more virtuous
When she is gone. Then open not thy lips:

Firm and irrevocable is my doom

Which I have pass'd upon her; she is banish'd.

Cel. Pronounce that sentence then on mè, my liege :

I cannot live out of her company.

Duke F. You are a fool. You, niece, provide yourself.
If you outstay the time, upon mine honour,
And in the greatness of my word, you die.

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360

[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 am. Ros. I have more cause. Cel. Thou hast not, cousin ; Prithee, be cheerful. Know'st thou not, the duke Hath banish'd me, his daughter?

Ros.

That he hath not.

Cel. No, hàth nòt ? Rosalind lacks then the love
Which teacheth me that thou and I am one.

Shall we be sunder'd? Shall wè part, sweet girl ?
No: let my father seek another heir.
Therefore devise with me how we may fly,
Whither to go, and what to bear with us;
And do not seek to take your change upon you,
To bear your griefs yourself, and leave me out;
For, by this heaven, now at our sorrows pale,
Say what thou canst, I'll go along with thee.
Ros. Why, whither shall we go?

Cel. To seek my uncle in the forest of Arden.
Ros. Alas, what danger will it be to us,

Maids as we are, to travel forth so far!
Beauty provoketh thieves sooner than gold.

Cel. I'll put myself in poor and mean attire,

And with a kind of umber 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,
That I did suit me all points like a màn ?
A gallant curtle-axe upon my thigh,

A boar-spear in my hand; and-in my heart
Lie there what hidden woman's fear there will-
We'll have a swashing and a martial outside,

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