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Clo. Of a certain Knight, that fwore by his honour they were good pancakes, and fwore by his honour the muftard was naught: now I'll ftand to it, the pancakes were naught, and the mustard was good, and yet was not the Knight forfworn.

Col. How prove you that in the great heap of your knowledge?

Rof. Ay marry, now unmuzzle your wisdom.

Clo. Stand you both forth now; ftroke your chins, and fwear by your beards that I am a knave.

Cel. By our beards, if we had them, thou art.

Clo. By my knavery, if I had it, then I were; but if you fwear by that that is not, you are not forfworn, no more was this Knight fwearing by his honour, for he never had any; or if he had, he had fworn it away, before ever he faw thofe pancakes or that mustard.

Cel. Pr'ythee who is that thou mean'ft?

Clo. One that old Frederick your father loves.

Cel. My father's love is enough to honour him: enough! fpeak no more of him; you'll be whipt for taxation one of thefe days.

Clo. The more pity that fools may not speak wifely what wife men do foolishly.

Cel. By my troth, thou fay'ft true; for fince the little wit that fools have was filenc'd, the little foolery that wife men have makes a great fhew: here comes Monfieur Le Beu

SCENE V. Enter Le Beu.

Rofs. With his mouth full of news.


Cel. Which he will put on us, as pigeons feed their young. Rof. Then fhall we be news-cram'd.

Cel. All the better, we shall be the more marketable.

Bon jour, Monfieur Le Beu; what news? »

Le Beu. Fair Princefs, you have loft much sport.

Cel. Sport; of what colour?

Le Beu. What colour, Madam? how fhall I answer you?
Rof. As wit and fortune will.

Clo. Or as the deftinies decree.

Cel. Well faid, that was laid on with a trowel.

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Clo. Nay, if I keep not my rank
Rof. Thou lofeft thy old smell.

Le Beu. You amaze me, ladies; I would have told you of good wrestling, which you have loft the fight of Rof. Yet tell us the manner of the wrestling.

Le Beu. I will tell you the beginning, and, if it please your ladyfhips, you may fee the end, for the best is yet to do; and here where you are, they are coming to perform it.

Gel. Well, the beginning that is dead and buried.

Le Beu. There comes an old man and his three fons. Gel. I could match this beginning with an old tale. Le Beu. Three proper young men, of excellent growth and prefence.

Rof. With bills on their necks: Be it known unto all men by thefe prefents.

Le Beu. The eldest of the three wrestled with Charles the Duke's wrestler, which Charles in a moment threw him, and broke three of his ribs, that there is little hope of life in him: fo he ferv'd the fecond, and fo the third: yonder they lye, the poor old man their father making fuch pitiful dole over them, that all the beholders take his part with weeping.

Rof. Alas!

Clo. But what is the fport, Monfieur, that the ladies have loft?

Le Beu, Why, this that I fpeak of.

Clo. Thus men grow wifer every day. It is the first time that ever I heard breaking of ribs was fport for ladies. Cel. Or I, I promise thee.

Rof. But there any elfe longs to fet this broken musick in his fides? is there yet another doats upon rib-breaking? fhall we fee this wrestling, coufin? ·

Le Beu. You must if you stay here, for here is the place appointed for the wrestling; and they are ready to perform it.

Cel. Yonder fure they are coming: let us now stay and fee it.


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Flourish. Enter Duke Frederick, Lords, Orlando, Charles, and Attendants.

Duke. Come on, fince the youth will not be entreated; his own peril on his forwardness.

Rof. Is yonder the man ?

Le Beu. Even he, Madam.

Cel. Alas, he is too young; yet he looks fuccefsfully. Duke. How now, daughter and coufin; are you crept hither to see the wrestling?

Rof. Ay, my liege, fo please you give us leave.

Duke. You will take little delight in it, I can tell you, there is fuch odds in the men; in pity of the challenger's youth, I wou'd fain diffuade him, but he will not be entreated. Speak to him, ladies, fee if you can move him. Cel. Call him hither, good Monfieur Le Beu. Duke. Do fo; I'll not be by.

Le Beu. Monfieur the challenger, the Princefs calls for you.

Orla. I attend her with all refpect and duty.

Rof. Young man, have you challeng'd Charles the wrestler? Orla. No, fair Princefs; he is the general challenger: I come but as others do, to try with him the ftrength of my youth.

Cel, Young gentleman, your spirits are too bold for your years: you have feen cruel proof of this man's ftrength. If you faw your felf with our eyes, or knew your felf with our judgment, the fear of your adventure would counfel you to a more equal enterprise. We pray you for your own fake to embrace your own safety, and give over this attempt.

Raf. Do, young Sir, your reputation shall not therefore be mifprifed; we will make it our fuit to the Duke that the wrestling might not go forward.

Orla. I beseech you punish me not with your hard thoughts, wherein I confefs me much guilty to deny fo fair and excellent ladies any thing. But let your fair eyes and gentle wishes go with me to my tryal, wherein if I be foil'd, there is but one fham'd that was never gracious; if kill'd, but one dead that is willing to be fo: I thall do my friends VOL. III.


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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 fupply'd when I have made it empty.

Rof. The little ftrength that I have, I would it were with you.

Cel. And mine to eek out hers.

Rof, Fare you well; pray heav'n I be deceiv'd in
Orla. Your heart's defires be with you!


Cha. Come, where is this young gallant, that is fo defirous to lye with his mother earth?

Orla. Ready, Sir; but his will hath in it a more modest working.

Duke. You fhall try but one fall.

Cha. No, I warrant your Grace you fhall not entreat him to a fecond, that have fo mightily perfuaded him from a first, Orla, You mean to mock me after; you fhould not have mockt before; but come your ways.

Rof. Now Hercules be thy fpeed, young man!

Cel. I would I were invifible, to catch the ftrong fellow by the leg! [They wreftle.

Ref. O excellent young man !

Cel. If I had a thunderbolt in mine eye, I can tell who fhould down.

Duke. No more, no more.

[Shout. [Charles is thrown. Oria. Yes, I befeech your Grace; I am not yet well breathed.

Duke. How dost thou do, Charles?

Le Beu. He cannot fpeak, my Lord.

Duke. Bear him away. What is thy name, young man ? Orla. Orlando, my liege, the youngest fon of Sir RowU land de Boys.

Duke. I would thou hadft been fon to fome man else i The world efteem'd thy father honourable,

But I did find him ftill mine enemy:

Thou shouldft have better pleas'd me with this deed,

Hadft thou defcended from another house.
But fare thee well, thou art a gallant youth,
I would thou hadst told me of another father,

[Exit Duke with his Train,


Cel. Were I my father, coz, would I do this?
Orla. I am moft proud to be Sir Rowland's fon,
His youngest fon, and would not change that calling
To be adopted heir to Frederick.

Rof. My father lov'd Sir Rowland as his foul,
And all the world was of my father's mind:
Had I before known this young man his fon,
I should have giv'n him tears unto entreaties,
Ere he should thus have ventur❜d.

Cel. Gentle coufin,

Let us go thank him, and encourage him;
My father's rough and envious difpofition
Sticks at my heart. Sir, you have well deferv'd s
If you do keep your promifes in love

But juftly, as you've here exceeded promise,
Your mistress shall be happy.

Rof. Gentleman,

Wear this for me, one out of fuits with fortune,

That would give more, but that her hand lacks means.

Shall we go, coz ?

[Giving him a chain from her neck.

Cel. Ay; fare you well, fair gentleman.

Orla. Can I not fay, I thank you? my better parts
Are all thrown down, and that which here ftands up
Is but a quintain, a meer lifeless block,

Rof. 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

More than your enemies.

Cel. Will you go, coz?

Rof. Have with you: fare you well. [Exe. Rof. and Cel. Orla. What paffion hangs these weights upon my tongue? I cannot speak to her; yet fhe urg'd conference.

Enter Le Beu.

O poor Orlando! thou art overthrown;

Or Charles, or something weaker, masters thee.
Le Beu. Good Sir, I do in friendship counsel you
To leave this place: albeit you have deserv'd
High commendation, true applause, and love;
Yet fuch is now the Duke's condition,

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