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 misprised: 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 place, which may be better supplied when I have made it empty. up a 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 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 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. Duke F. No more, no more. Shout. 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, [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,8 Ros. My father lov'd sir Rowland as his soul, Cel. Gentle cousin, : Let us go thank him, and encourage him But justly, as you have exceeded promise, 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 quintain,' a mere lifeless block. Ros. He calls us back: My pride fell with my fortunes : I'll ask him what he would:-Did you call, sir?-Sir, you have wrestled well, and overthrown 9 Turned out of her service. The object to dart at in martial exercises. 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... That he misconstrues all that you have done. Le Beau. Neither his daughter, if we judge by manners; But yet, indeed, the shorter is his daughter: But that the people praise her for her virtues, 2 Temper, disposition, 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 :- [Exit. Enter CELIA and ROSALIND, Cel. Why, cousin; why, Rosalind;-Cupid have mercy!-Not a word? Pos. 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: 0, 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 my heart. are in Cel. Hem them away. |