Orl. Ready, sir.

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 ways. Ros. Now, Hercules be thy speed, young man ! 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 more, 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:

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 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

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 fortunes:

I'll ask him what he would:
Sir, you have wrestled well,
More than your enemies.

Cel.

Did you call, sir ?and overthrown

Will you go, coz?

Ros. Have with you: Fare

[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.

O poor Orlando! thou art overthrown;

Or Charles, or something weaker, masters thee.

6

The object to dart at in martial exercises.

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

manners;

But yet, indeed, the shorter 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.
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,

well!

I shall desire more love and knowledge of you.
Orl. I rest much bounden to you: fare you
[Exit LE BEAU.
Thus must I from the smoke into the smother;
From tyrant duke, unto a tyrant brother:
But heavenly Rosalind!

[Exit.

7 Temper, disposition.

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 father's child: O, how full of briars 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! 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; 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

Within these ten days if that thou be'st found
So near our publick 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 frantick,
(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 dukedom;

So was I, when your highness banish'd him :
Treason is not inherited, my lord;