to do; and here, where you are, they are coming to perform it.

Cel.

Well, the beginning, that is dead and buried.. Le Beau. There comes an old man and his three fons,Cel. I could match this beginning with an old tale. Le Beau. 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 Beau. The eldeft of the three wrestled with Charles, the duke's wreftler; 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 second, and fo the third: yonder they lie; 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 sport, monfieur, that the ladies. have loft?

Le Beau. Why this, that I speak of.

Clo. Thus men may grow wifer every day! It is the first time that ever I heard, breaking of ribs was sport for ladies.

Cel. Or I, I promise thee..

Rof. But is there any elfe longs to fee this broken mu fic in his fides? is there yet another dotes upon ribbreaking ?-Shall we fee this wrestling, coufin?

Le Beau. You muft, 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 flay: and fee it.

Flourish.

Enter Duke FREDERIC, Lords, ORLANDO,
CHARLES, and Attendants.

Duke. Come on: fince the youth will not be intreated, his own peril on his forwardness.

Rof. Is yonder the man?

Le Beau. 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, so 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 would fain diffuade him, but he will not be intreated. Speak to him, ladies; fee if you can move him. Cel. Call him hither, good monfieur Le Beau.

Duke. Do fo; I'll not be by. [Duke goes apart. Le Beau. Monfieur the challenger, the princeffes call for you.

Orla. I attend them with all refpect and duty.

Rof. Young man, have you challeng'd Charles, the wreftler?

Orla. No, fair princess; he is the general challenger: I come but in, as others do, to try with him the strength of my youth.

Cel. Young gentleman, your fpirits are too bold for your years: You have feen cruel proof of this man's ftrength; if you faw yourself with your eyes, or knew yourself with your 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.

Rof. Do, young fir; your reputation shall not therefore be misprized: We will make it our suit to the duke, that the wrestling might not go forward.

Orla. I befeech 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 trial: wherein if I be foil'd, there is but one fham'd that never was gracious; if kill'd, but one dead that is willing to be fo: I fhall 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 I have made it empty.

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

Cel. And mine to eke out hers.

Rof. Fare you well. Pray heaven I be deceiv'd in you!

Cel. Your heart's defires be with you!

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

·Orla. Ready, fir: but his will hath in it a more modeft working.

Duke. You fhall try but one fall.

Cha. No, I warrant your grace; you shall not intreat him to a fecond, that have fo mightily perfuaded him from a firft.

Orla. You mean to mock me after; you fhould not have mocked me before: but come your ways.

Rof. Now, Hercules be thy fpeed, young man! Cel. I would I were invisible, to catch the strong fellow by the leg! [They wrestle..

Rof. O excellent young man !

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

Duke. No more, no more.

[Sbout.. [CHARLES is thrown. Orla. Yes, I befeech your grace; I am not yet well. breathed.

Duke. How doft thou, Charles?

Le Beau. He cannot fpeak, my lord.

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

Duke. I would thou hadst been fon to fome man elfe!. 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 hadft told me of another father.

(Exit Duke with his Train..

Manent CELIA, ROSALIND, and ORLANDO.

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

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 fhould have given him tears unto intreaties,,
Ere he fhould thus have ventur'd.

Cel. Gentle coufin,

Let us go thank him and encourage him:
My father's rough and envious difpofition

Sticks me at heart.-Sir, you have well deferv'd ::
you do keep your promises in love,

If

But juftly as you have exceeded all promise, ·
Your mistress fhall be happy.

Rof. Gentleman, [Giving him a chain from her neck. Wear this for me; one out of fuits with fortune; That could give more, but that her hand lacks means. -Shall we go, coz.

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 quintaine,[5] a mere lifeless block.

Rof. He calls us back: My pride fell with my fortunes? I'll afk him what he would:Did you call, fir ?— Sir, you have wrestled well, and overthrown

More than your enemies.

Cel. Will you go, coz?

Rof. Have with

you :-Fare you well.

[Exeunt ROSALIND and CELIA. Orla. What paffion hangs these weights upon my tongue ?

I cannot speak to her; yet she urg'd conference.

Enter LE BEAU.

O poor Orlando! thou art overthrown;
Or Charles, or fomething weaker, mafters thee.
Le Beau. Good fir, 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,

That he misconftrues all that you have done.
The duke is humorous; what he is, indeed,
More fuits you to conceive, than me to speak of.

Orla. I thank you, fir: and, pray you, tell me this; Which of the two was daughter of the duke

[5] A Quintaine was a poft or butt, fet up for feveral kinds of martial exercises, againft which they threw their darts and exercifed their arms. The allufion is beautiful,-I am, fays Orlando, only a quintaine, a lifelefs block on which love only exercifes his arms in jeft; the great dif parity of condition between Rofalind and me, not fuffering me to hope that love will ever make a ferious matter of it. WARB.

This is but an imperfect (to call it no worfe) explanation of a beau tiful paffage. The quintaine was not the object of the darts and arms: it was a fake driven into a field, upon which were hung a fhield and other trophies of war, at which they fhot, darted, or rode, with a lance. When the fhield and the trophies were all thrown down, the quintaine remained. Without this information, how could the reader understand the allufion of

66 .........................................................my better parts
"Are all thrown down."

CRIT. REVIEW.

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 ufurping uncle,
To keep his daughter company; whofe loves
Are dearer than the natural bond of fifters.
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 fake;
And, on my life, his malice 'gainst the lady
Will fuddenly break forth.—Sir, fare you well;
Hereafter, in a better world than this,

I fhall defire more love and knowledge of you. [Exit.
Orla. I reft much bounden to you: fare ye well!
Thus muft I from the fmoke into the fmother;
From tyrant duke, unto a tyrant brother :-
But heavenly Rofalind!

[Exit.

SCENE III.

An apartment in the Palace. Enter CELIA and ROSALIND. Cel. Why, coufin; why, Rosalind ;-Cupid have mercy!-Not a word?

Rof. Not one to throw at a dog.

Cel. No, thy words are too precious to be caft away upon curs; throw fome of them at me; come, lame me with reafons.

Rof. Then there were two coufins laid up; when the one should be lam'd with reafons, and the other mad without any.

Cel. But is all this for your father?

Rof. No, fome of it is for my child's father: O, how full of briars is this working-day world!

Cel. They are but burs, coufin, thrown upon thee in holiday foolery; if we walk not in the trodden paths, our very petticoats will catch them.

Rof. I could fhake them off my coat; these burs are in my heart.

Cel. Hem them away.

Rof. I would try; if I could cry, hem, and have him.