Imagens das páginas

Cel. Herein, I see, thou lovest me not with the honour, for he never had any; or if he had, he hal full weight that I love thee: if my uncle, thy ba- sworn it away, before ever he saw those pancakes nished father, had banished thy uncle, the duke my or that mustard. father, so thou hadst been still with me, I could Cel. Pr'ythee, who is't that thou mean'st? have taught my love to take thy father for mine; Touch. One that old Frederick, your father loves. so wouldst thou, if the truth of thy love to me were Cel. My father's love is enough to honour him. so righteously temper'd as mine is to thee.

Enough! speak no more of him; you'll be whipp'd Ros. Well, I will forget the condition of my for taxation', one of these days. estate, to rejoice in yours.

Touch. The more pity, that fools may not speak Cel. You know, my father hath no child but I, wisely, what wise men do foolishly. nor none is like to have; and, truly, when he dies, Cel. By my troth, thou say'st true : for since the thou shalt be his heir: for what he hath taken away little wit, that fools have, was silenced, the little from thy father perforce, I will render thee again foolery, that wise men have, makes a great show. in affection ; by mine honour, I will; and when I Here comes monsieur Le Beau. break that oath, let me turn monster : therefore, my sweet Rose, my dear Rose, be merry.

Enter LE Beau. Ros. From henceforth I will, coz, and devise Ros. With his mouth full of news. sports; let me see; What think you of falling in love? Cel. Which he will put on us, as pigeons feed

Cel. Marry, I prythee, do, to make sport withal : their young. but love no man in good earnest ; nor no further in Ros. Then shall we be news-cramm'd. sport neither, than with safety of a pure blush thou Cel. All the better ; we shall be the more marmay'st in honour come off again.

ketable. Bon jour, monsieur Le Beau : What's the Ros. What shall be our sport then ?

news? Cel. Let us sit and mock the good housewife, Le Beau. Fair princess, you have lost much good Fortune, from her wheel, that her gifts may hence- sport. forth be bestowed equally.

Cel. Sport? Of what colour ? Ros. I would, we could do so; for her benefits

Le Bcau. What colour, madam ? How shall I are mightily misplaced : and the bountiful blind

answer you? woman doth most mistake in her gifts to women. Ros. As wit and fortune will. Cel. 'Tis true : for those, that she makes fair, she

Touch. Or as the destinies decree. scarce makes honest; and those, that she makes Cel. Well said ; that was laid on with a trowel. honest, she makes very ill-favour'dly.

Le Beau. You amaze me, ladies; I would have Ros. Nay, now thou goest from fortune's office told you of good wrestling, which you have lost the to nature's: fortune reigns in gifts of the world, not sight of. in the lineaments of nature.

Ros. Yet tell us the manner of the wrestling. Enter Touchstone.

Le Beau. I will tell you the beginning, and, if it

please your ladyships, you may see the end; for the Cel. No? When nature bath made a fair creature, best is yet to do; and here, where you are, they are may she not by fortune fall into the fire?- Though coming to perforın it. nature hath given us wit to flout at fortune, hath not Cel. Well, the beginning, that is dead and fortune sent in this fool to cut off the argument ? buried.

Ros. Indeed, there is fortune too hard for nature; Le Beau. There comes an old man, and his three when fortune makes nature's natural the cutter off

sons, of nature's wit.

Cel. I could match this beginning with an old tale. Cel. Peradventure, this is not fortune's work

Le Beau. Three proper young men, of excellent neither, but nature's: who perceiving our natural growth and presence; wits too dull to reason of such goddesses, hath sent Ros. With bills on their necks, Be it known this natural for our whetstone : for always the dul- unto all men by these presents, ness of the fool is the whetstone of his wits,– How

Le Beau. The eldest of the three wrestled with now, wit? whither wander you ?

Charles, the duke's wrestler; which Charles in a Touch. Mistress, you must come away to your moment threw him, and broke three of his ribs, that father.

there is little hope of life in him : so he served the C'e. Were you made the messenger ?

second, and so the third : Yonder they lie; the poor Touch. No, by mine honour ; but I was bid to old man, their father, making such pitiful dole over come for you.

them, that all the beholders take his part with Ros. Where learned you that oath, fool ? weeping.

Touch. Of a certain knight, that swore by his Ros. Alas! honour they were good pancakes, and swore by his Touch. But what is the sport, monsieur, that the honour the mustard was naught: now, I'll stand to ladies have lost? it, the pancakes were naught, and the mustard was

Le Beau. Why, this that I speak of. good; and yet was not the knight forsworn.

Touch. Thus men may grow wiser every day! it Cel. How prove you that, in the great heap of is the first time that I ever heard, breaking of ribs your knowledge ?

was sport for ladies. Ros. Ay, marry; now unmuzzle your wisdom.


. Or I, I promise thee. Touch. Stand you both forth now : stroke your Ros. But is there any else longs to see this broken chins, and swear by your beards that I am a knave.musick in his sides? is there yet another dotes upon Cel. By our beards, if we had them, thou art.

rib-breaking ?- Shall we see this wrestling, cousin ? Touch. By my knavery, if I had it, then I were :

Le Beau. You must, if you stay here : for here is but if you swear by that that is not, you are not forsworn : no more was this knight, swearing by his

5 Satire.

call for you.

the place appointed for the wrestling, and they are Ros. O excellent young man ! ready to perform it.

Cel. If I had a thunderbolt in mine eye, I can tell Cel. Yonder, sure, they are coming : Let us now who should down. (CHARLES is thrown. Shour. stay and see it.

Duke F. No more, no more.

Orl. Yes, I beseech your grace; I am not yet Flourish. Enter Duke FREDERICK, Lords, Or- well breathed. LANDO, CHARLES, and Attendants.

Duke F. How dost thou, Charles ? Duke F. Come on ; since the youth will not be Le Beau. He cannot speak, my lord. entreated, his own peril on his forwardness.

Duke F. Bear him away. (Charles is borne out. Ros. Is yonder the man ?

What is thy name, young man? Le Beau. Even he, madam.

Orl. Orlando, my liege ; the youngest son of sir Cel. Alas, he is too young: yet he looks suc- Rowland de Bois. cessfully.

Duke F. I would thou hadst been son to some Duke F. How now, daughter, and cousin ? are

man else. you crept hither to see the wrestling.

The world esteem'd thy father honourable, Ros. Ay, my liege ! so please you give us leave. But I did find him still mine enemy:

Duke F. You will take little delight in it, I can Thou shouldst have better pleas'd me with this deed, tell you, there is such odds in the men: In pity of Hadst thou descended from another house. the challenger's youth, I would fain dissuade him, But fare thee well; thou art a gallant youth; but he will not be entreated : Speak to him, ladies; I would thou hadst told me of another father. see if you can move him.

[Ereunt Duke Fred. Train, and LE BEAU. Cel. Call him hither, good monsieur Le Beau. Cel. Were I my father, coz, would I do this? Duke F. Do so : I'll not be by. (Duke goes apart. Orl. I am more proud to be sir Rowland's son, Le Beau. Monsieur the challenger, the princesses His youngest son ; - - and would not change that

calling, Orl. I attend them, with all respect and duty. To be adopted heir to Frederick.

Ros. Young man, have you challenged Charles Ros. My father lov'd sir Rowland as his soul, the wrestler ?

And all the world was of my father's mind : Orl. No, fair princess; he is the general chal-Had I before known this young man his son, lenger : I come but in, as others do, to try with him I should have given him tears unto entreaties, the strength of my youth.

Ere he should thus have ventur'd. Cel. Young gentleman, your spirits are too bold Cel.

Gentle cousin, for your years : You have seen cruel proof of this Let us go thank him, and encourage him : man's strength; if you saw yourself with your eyes, My father's rough and envious disposition or knew yourself with your judgment, the fear of Sticks me at heart. — Sir, you have well deserv'd : your adventure would counsel you to a more equal If you do keep your promises in love, enterprise. We pray you, for your own sake, to But justly, as you have exceeded promise, embrace your own safety, and give over this attempt. Your mistress shall be happy. Ros. Do, young sir; your reputation shall not Ros.

Gentleman, therefore be misprised : we will make it our suit to

[Giving him a chain from her neck. the duke, that the wrestling might not go forward. Wear this for me; one out of suits with fortune ;

Orl. I beseech you, punish me not with your That could give more, but that her hand lacks hard thoughts; wherein I confess me much guilty, to deny so fair and excellent ladies any thing. But Shall we go, coz? let your fair eyes, and gentle wishes, go with me to Cel. Ay: – Fare you well, fair gentleman. my trial : wherein if I be foiled, there is but one Orl. Can I not say, I thank you ? My better parts shamed that was never gracious; if killed, but one Are all thrown down; and that which here stands up, dead that is willing to be so : I shall do my friends Is but a quintain, a mere lifeless block. no wrong, for I have none to lament me; the world Ros. He calls us back: My pride fell with my no injury, for in it I have nothing; only in the

fortunes : world I fill up a place, which may be better sup- I'll ask him what he would: Did you call, sir? plied when I have made it empty.

Sir you have wrestled well, and overthrown Ros. The little strength that I have, I would it More than your enemies. were with you.


Will you go, coz ? Cel. And mine, to eke out hers.

Ros. Have with you :— Fare you well. Ros. Fare you well. Pray heaven, I be deceived

[Exeunt Rosalind and Celia. in you!

Orl. What passion hangs these weights upon my Cel. Your heart's desires be with you.

tongue? Cha. Come, where is this young gallant, that is I cannot speak to her, yet she urg'd conference. so desirous to lie with his mother earth? Orl. Ready, sir.

Re-enter Le Beau. Duke F. You shall try but one fall.

0, poor Orlando! thou art overthrown; Cha. No, I warrant your grace; you shall not Or Charles, or something weaker, masters thee. entreat bim to a second, that have so mightily per

Le Benu. Good sir, I do in friendship counsel you suaded him from a first.

To leave this place: Albeit you have deserv'd Orl. You mean to mock me after ; you should High commendation, true applause, and love ; not have mocked me before : but come your ways.

Yet such is now the duke's condition 7,
Ros. Now, Hercules be thy speed, young man ! That he misconstrues all that you have done
Cel. I would I were invisible, to catch the strong

6 The object to dart at in martial exercises. fellow by the leg. (CHARLES and Orlando wrestle. 7 Temper, disposition.


The duke is humorous; what he is, indeed,

Enter Duke FREDERICK, with Lords. More suits you to conceive, than me to speak of. Duke F. Mistress, despatch you with your safest Orl. I thank you, sir : and pray you, tell me

haste, this;

And get you from our court. Which of the two was daughter of the duke,


Me, uncle? That here was at the wrestling ?

Duke F.

You, cousin ; Le Beau. Neither his daughter, if we judge by Within these ten days if that thou he'st found manners;

So near our public court as twenty miles,
But yet, indeed, the shorter is his daughter : Thou diest for it.
The other is daughter to the banish'd duke,


I do beseech your grace, And here detain'd by her usurping uncle,

Let me the knowledge of my fault bear with me : To keep his daughter company; whose loves If with myself I hold intelligence, Are dearer than the natural bond of sisters.

Or have acquaintance with mine own desires ; But I can tell you, that of late this duke

If that I do not dream, cr be not frantick,
Hath ta'en displeasure 'gainst his gentle niece; (As I do trust I am not,) then, dear uncle,
Grounded upon no other argument,

Never, so much as in a thought unborn,
But that the people praise her for her virtues, Did I offend your highness.
And pity her for her good father's sake :

Duke F.

Thus do all traitors; And, on my life, his malice 'gainst the lady If their purgation did consist in words, Will suddenly break forth. — Sir, fare you well; They are as innocent as grace itself; Hereafter, in a better world than this,

Let it suffice thee, that I trust thee not. I shall desire more love and knowledge of you. Ros. Yet your mistrust cannot make me a traitor : Orl. I rest much bounden to you : fare you well! | Tell me whereon the likelihood depends.

[Erit LE BEAU.

Duke F. Thou art thy father's daughter, there's Thus must I from the smoke into the smother ;

enough. From tyrant duke, unto a tyrant brother :

Ros. So was I, when your highness took his But heavenly Rosalind !



So was I when your highness banish'd him :
SCENE III. A Room in the Palace.

Treason is not inherited my lord ;

Or, if we did derive it from our friends,
Enter Celia and ROSALIND.

What's that to me? my father was no traitor : Cd. Why, cousin ; why, Rosalind ; -Cupid have Then, good my liege, mistake me not so much, mercy! Not a word ?

To think my poverty is treacherous. Ros. Not one to throw at a dog.

Cel. Dear sovereign, hear me speak, Cel. No, thy words are too precious to be cast Duke F. Ay, Celia ; we stay'd her for your sake, away upon curs, throw some of them at me ; come, Else had she with her father rang'd along. lame me with reasons.

Cel. I did not then entreat to have her stay, Ros. Then there were two cousins laid up; when It was your pleasure, and your own remorse 8: the one should be lamed with reasons, and the other I was too young that time to value her, mad without any.

But now I know her: if she be a traitor, Cel. But is all this for your father?

Why so am I; we still have slept together, Ros. No, some of it for my father's child: 0, Rose at an instant, learn'd, play'd, eat together ; how full of briars is this working-day world! And wheresoe'er we went, like Juno's swans,

Cel. They are but burs, cousin, thrown upon thee Still we went coupled, and inseparable. in holiday foolery; if we walk not in the trodden Duke F. She is too subtle for thee; and her paths, our very petticoats will catch them.

smod ess Ros. I could shake them off my coat; these burs Her very silence, and her patience, are in my heart.

Speak to the people, and they pity her. Cel. Hem them away.

Thou art a fool: she robs thee of thy name; Ros. I would try; if I could cry hem, and have And thou wilt show more bright, and seem more him.

virtuous, Cel. Come, come, wrestle with thy affections. When she is gone : then open not thy lips;

Ros. O, they take the part of a better wrestler Firm and irrevocable is my doom than myself.

Which I have pass'd upon her; she is banish’d. Cel. O, a good wish upon you ! - But, turning Cel. Pronounce that sentence then on me, my these jests out of service, let us talk in good earnest :

liege; Is it possible, on such a sudden, you should fall into I cannot live out of her company. so strong a liking with old sir Rowland's youngest Duke F. You are a fool : You, niece, provide

yourself; Ros. The duke my father lov'd his father dearly. If you out-stay the time, upon mine honour,

Cel. Doth it therefore ensue, that you should love And in the greatness of my word, you die. his son dearly? By this kind of chase, I should hate

[Exeunt Duke Frederick and Lords. him, for my father hated his father dearly; yet Cel. O my poor Rosalind! whither wilt thou go? I hate not Orlando.

Wilt thou change fathers? I will give thee mine. Ros. No; hate him not, for my sake.

I charge thee, be not thou more griev'd than I am. Cel. Why should I not ? doth he not deserve Ros. I have more cause. well?


Thou hast not, cousin ; Ros. Let me love him for that; and do you love Pr’ythee, be cheerful: know'st thou not, the duke him, because I do: — Look, here comes the duke. Hath banish'd me his daughter? Cel. With his eyes full of anger.

8 Compassion.



That he hath not. A gallant curtle-ax? upon my thigh, Cel. No? hath not ? Rosalind lacks then the love A boar spear in my hand; and (in my heart Which teacheth thee that thou and I am one: Lie there what hidden woman's fear there will,) Shall we be sunder'd ? shall we part, sweet girl ? We'll have a swashing and a martial outside ; No; let my father seek another heir.

As many other mannish cowards have, Therefore devise with me, how we may fly,

That do outface it with their semblances. Whither to go, and what to bear with us :

Cel. What shall I call thee, when thou art a man? And do not seek to take your change upon you, Ros. I'll have no worse a name than Jove's own To bear your griefs yourself, and leave me out;

For, by this heaven, now at our sorrows pale, And therefore look you call me, Ganymede.
Say what thou canst, I'll go along with thee. But what will you be call’d?
Ros. Why, whither shall we go?

Cel. Something that hath a reference to my state ;
Cel. To seek my uncle in the forest of Arden. No longer Celia, but Aliena.
Ros. Alas, what danger will it be to us,

Ros. But, cousin, what if we assay'd to steal Maids as we are, to travel forth so far?

The clownish fool out of your father's court ? Beauty provoketh thieves sooner than gold. Would he not be a comfort to our travel ?

Cel. I'll put myself in poor and mean attire, Cel. He'll go along o'er the wide world with me; And with a kind of umber 9 smirch my face; Leave me alone to woo him: Let's away, The like do you ; so shall we pass along,

And get our jewels and our wealth together; And never stir assailants.

Devise the fittest time, and safest way Ros.

Were it not better, To hide us from pursuit that will be made Because that I am more than common tall, After my flight: Now go we in content That I did suit me all points like a man?

To liberty, and not to banishment. (Ereunt.



SCENE I. The Forest of Arden. Did come to languish ; and, indeed, my lord,

The wretched animal heav'd forth such groans, Enter Duke Senior, Amiens, and other Lords, in

That their discharge did stretch his leathern coat the dress of Foresters.

Almost to bursting; and the big round tears Duke S. Now, my co-mates, and brothers in exile, Cours'd one another down his innocent nose Hath not old custom made this life more sweet In piteous chase : and thus the hairy fool, Than that of painted pomp? Are not these woods Much marked of the melancholy Jaques, More free from peril than the envious court ? Stood on the extremest verge of the swift brook, Here feel we but the penalty of Adam,

Augmenting it with tears. The seasons' difference; as, the icy fang,

Duke S.

But what said Jaques ? And churlish chiding of the winter's wind;

Did he not moralize this spectacle ? Which when it bites and blows upon my body, 1 Lord. O, yes, into a thousand similes. Even till I shrink with cold, I smile, and say, First, for his weeping in the needless stream; This is no flattery : these are counsellors

Poor deer, quoth he, thou mak'st a testament That feelingly persuade me what I am.

As worldlings do, giving thy sum of more Sweet are the uses of adversity;

To that which had too much : Then, being alone, Which, like the toad, ugly and venomous,

Left and abandon'd of his velvet friends; Wears yet a precious jewel in his head ;

'Tis right, quoth he; thus misery doth part
And this our life, exempt from public haunt, The flur of company: Anon, a careless herd,
Finds tongues in trees, books in the running brooks, Full of the pasture, jumps along by him,
Sermons in stones, and good in every thing. And never stays to greet him ; Ay, quoth Jaques,

Ami. I would not change it: Happy is your grace, Sweep on, you fat and greasy citizens ;
That can translate the stubbornness of fortune 'Tis just the fashion : Wherefore do you look
Into so quiet and so sweet a style.

Upon that poor and broken bankrupt there?
Duke S. Come, shall we go and kill us venison? Thus most invectively he pierceth through
And yet it irks me, the poor dappled fools, – The body of the country, city, court,
Being native burghers of this desert city,– Yea, and of this our life : swearing, that we
Should in their own confines, with forked heads! Are mere usurpers, tyrants, and what's worse
Have their round haunches gor’d.

To fright the animals, and to kill them up, I Lord.

Indeed, my lord, In their assign'd and native dwelling-place. The melancholy Jaques grieves at that ;

Duke S. And did you leave him in this contemAnd, in that kind, swears you do more usurp

plation ? Than doth your brother that hath banish'd you. 2 Lord. We did, my lord, weeping and commentTo-day, my lord of Amiens, and myself,

ing Did steal behind him, as he lay along

Upon the sobbing deer. Under an oak, whose antique root peeps out

Duke S.

Show me the place;
Upon the brook that brawls along this wood : I love to cope 4 him in these sullen fits,
To the which place a poor sequester'd stag,

For then he's full of matter. That from the hunter's aim had ta'en a hurt, 2 Lord. I'll bring you to him straight. (Exeunt. 9 A lusky, yellow.coloured earth.

2 Cutlass.

3 Swaggering

1 Barbed arrows.

4 Encounter,

SCENE II. A Room in the Palace. I rather will subject me to the malice

Of a diverted bloody, and bloody brother. Enter Duke FREDERICK, Lords, and Attendants.

Adam. But do not so: I have five hundred clowns Duke F. Can it be possible, that no man saw them? The thrifty hire I sav'd under your father, It cannot be: some villains of my court

Which I did store, to be my foster-nurse, Are of consent and sufferance in this.

When service should in my old limbs lie lame, 1 Lord. I cannot hear of any that did see her. And unregarded age in corners thrown: The ladies, her attendants of her chamber,

Take that: and He that doth the ravens feed, Saw her a-bed ; and, in the morning early,

Yea, providently caters for the sparrow, They found the bed untreasur'd of their mistress. Be comfort to my age! Here is the gold;

2 Lord. My lord, the roynish"clown, at whom so oft All this I give you: Let me be your servant ; Your grace was wont to laugh, is also missing Though I look old, yet I am strong and lusty : Hesperia, the princess' gentlewoman,

For in my youth I never did apply Confesses, that she secretly o’erheard

Flot and rebellious liquors in my blood;
Your daughter and her cousin much commend Therefore my age is as a lusty winter,
The parts and graces of the wrestler

Frosty, but kindly: let me go with you;
That did but lately foil the sinewy Charles ; I'll do the service of a younger man
And she believes, wherever they are gone,

In all your business and necessities.
That youth is surely in their company.

Orl. O good old man; how well in thee appears Duke F. Send to his brother ; fetch that gallant The constant service of the antique world, hither;

When service sweat for duty, not for meed! If he be absent, bring his brother to me,

Thou art not for the fashion of these times, I'll make him find him: do this suddenly;

Where none will sweat, but for promotion ; And let not search and inquisition quail 6

And having that, do choke their service up To bring again these foolish runaways. [Ereunt. Even with the having: it is not so with thee.

But, poor old man, thou prun'st a rotten tree, SCENE III. Before Oliver's House.

That cannot so much as a blossom yield,

In lieu of all thy pains and husbandry : Enter ORLANDO and Adam, meeting. But come thy ways, we'll go along together; Orl. Who's there?

And ere we have thy youthful wages spent, Adam. What! my young master ? -0, my gentle We'll light upon some settled low content. master,

Adam. Master, go on; and I will follow thee, 0, my sweet master, O you memory?

To the last gasp, with truth and loyalty. – Of old sir Rowland ! why, what make you here?

From seventeen years till now almost fourscore Why are you virtuous ? Why do people love you ?

Here lived I, but now live here no more. And wherefore are you gentle, strong, and valiant? At seventeen years many their fortunes seek; Why should you be so fond 8 to overcome

But at fourscore, it is too late a week : The bony prizer of the humorous duke ?

Yet fortune cannot recompense me better, Your praise is come too swiftly home before you.

Than to die well, and not my master's debtor. (Exeunt.
Know you not, master, to some kind of men
Their graces serve them but as enemies ?

SCENE IV. - The Forest of Arden.
No more do yours; your virtues, gentle master,
Are sanctified and holy traitors to you.

Enter Rosalind in Boy's clothes, Celia drest like 0, what a world is this, when what is comely

a Shepherdess, and TouchsTONE. Envenoms him that bears it ?

Ros. O Jupiter ! how weary are my spirits ! Orl. Why, what's the matter ?

Touch. I care not for my spirits, if my legs were Adam.

O unhappy youth, not weary. Come not within these doors; within this roof

Ros. I could find in my heart to disgrace my The enemy of all your graces lives :

man's apparel, and to cry like a woman : but I must Your brother - (no, no brother; yet the son

comfort the weaker vessel, as doublet and hose ought Yet not the son ;-I will not call him son- to show itself courageous to petticoat : therefore, Of him I was about to call his father,) –

courage, good Aliena. Hath heard your praises ; and this night he means

Cel. I pray you, bear with me; I can go no further, To burn the lodging where you use to lie,

Touch. For my part, I had rather bear with you, And you within it: if he fail of that,

than bear you : yet I should bear no cross ', if I did He will have other means to cut you off:

bear you : for, I think, you have no money in your I overheard him, and his practices.

purse. This is no place, this house is but a butchery ; Ros. Well, this is the forest of Arden. Abhor it, fear it, do not enter it.

Touch. Ay, now am I in Arden : the more fool Orl. Why, whither, Adam,wouldst thou havemego? I; when I was at home, I was in a better place; Adam. No matter whither, so you come not here. but travellers must be content. Orl. What, wouldst thou have me go and beg my

Ros. Ay, be so, good Touchstone:- Look you, food ?

who comes here; a young man and an old, in Or, with a base and boisterous sword, enforce solemn talk. A thievish living on the common road ?

Enter Corin and Suvius. This I must do, or know not what to do :

Cor. That is the way to make her scorn you still. Yet this I will not do, do how I can ;

Sil. O Corin, that thou knew'st how I do love her!

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9 Blood turned from its natural course,
A piece of money stamped with a cross,

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