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should I anatomize him to thee as he is, I must | | Ros. Nay, now thou goest from fortune's office blush and weep, and thou must look pale and! Ito nature's: fortune reigns in gifts of the world, wonder.

Inot in the lineaments of nature.. Cha. I am heartily glad I came hither to you:

Enter Touchstone, a clown. If he come to-morrow, I'll give hinı his payment : 5! Cel. No? When nature hath made a fair crea. if ever he go alone again, I'll never wrestle for ture, may she not by fortune fall into the fire? prize more. And so, God keep your worship! | Though nature hath given us wit to flout at for

Èxit. Juune, hath not fortune sent in this foul to cut off Oli. Farewel, good Charles.-Now will I stir the argument? this gamester: I hope, I shall see an end of him; 10 Ros. Indeed there is fortune too hard for nafor my soul, yet I know not why, hates nothing ture, when fortune makes nature's natural the more than he. Yet he's gentle; never school'd, cutter off of nature's wit. and yet learn'd; full of noble device; of all sorts | Cel. Peradventure this is not fortune's work enchantingly beloved; and, indeed, so much in neither, but nature's ; who perceiving our natural the heart of the world, and especially of my own 15 wits too dull to reason of such goddesses, hath sent people, who best know him, that I ain altogether this natural for our whetstone: for always the dula misprised: but it shall not be so long;this wrestlerness of the fool is the whetstone of the wits. How shall clear all: nothing remains, but that I kindle now, wit? whither wander you? the boy thither, which now I'll go about. (Exit. | Clo. Mistress you must come awayto your father..

201 Cel. Were you made the messenger? SCENE II.

Clo. No, by mine honour; but I was bid to An open walk before the Duke's palace.

come for you.

| Ros. Where learned you that oath, fool? Enter Rosalind and Celia.

Clo. Ofacertain knight, that swore by his honour Cel. I pray thee, Rosalind, sweet my coz, be 23 they weregoud pancakes, and swore by his honour merry.

the mustard was naught: now I'll stand to it, the Ros. Dear Celia, I show more mirth than I am Ipancakes were paught, and the mustard was good; mistress of; and would you yet I were merrier:|| sand yet was the knight forsworn. l'nless you could teach me to forget a banish'd Cél. How prove you that, in the great heap oi father, you must not learn me how to remember 30 your knowledge ? any extraordinary pleasure.

Ros. Ay, marry; now unmuzzle your wisdom. Cel. Herein, I see, thou lov'st me not with the Clo. Stand you both forth now; stroke your full weight that I love thee: if my uncle, thy ba- chins, and swear by your beards that I am a knave. nished father, bad banished thy uncle, the duke my | Cel. By our beards, if we had them, thou art. father, so thou hadst been still with me, I could 35 Clo. By my knavery, if I had it, then I were: have taught my love to take thy father for mine :) but if you swear by that that is not, you are not so would'st thou, if the truth of thy love to me! Iforsworn; no more was this knight, gwearing by were so righteously temper'd as mine is to thee. his honour, for he never had any; or if he had, .

Ros. Well, I will forget the condition of my he had sworn it away, before ever he saw those estate, to rejoice in yours.

40 pancakes or that mustard. Cel. You know, my father hath no child but I, | Cel. Pr’ythee, who is it that thou mean'st? nor none is like to have; and, truly, when he dies, Clo. One that old Frederick, your father, loves. thou shalt be his heir : for what he hath taken | Cel. My father's love is enough to honour him: away froin thy father perforce, I will render theel Enough! speak no more of him; you'll be whipp'd again in affection ; by mine honour, I will; and 45 for taxation, one of these days. when I break that oath, let me turn monster: Clo. The more pity, that fools may not speak therefore my sweet Rose, my dear Rose, be wisely what wise men do foolishly. merry.

Cel. By my troth, thou say'st true; for since the Ros. From henceforth I will, coz, and derise little wit, that fools have, was silenc'd, the little sports: let me see; What think you of falling in 50 foolery, that wise men have, makes a great show, love?

Here comes Monsieur Le Beau. Cel. Marry, I pr’ythee, do, to make sport

Enter Le Beau. withal: but love no man in good earnest ; nor no Ros. With his inouth full of news. further in sport neither, than with safety of a purel Cel. Which he will put on us, as pigeons feed blush thou may'st in honour come off again. 55 their young. Ros. What shall be our sport then?

Ros. Then shall we be news-cranım'd. Cel. Let us sit and mock the good housewife, | Cel. All the better; we shall be the more Fortune, from her wheel, that her gifts may hence- marketable. Bon jour, Monsieur le Beau; what's forth be bestowed equally.

the news? Ros. I would we could do so; for her benefits 60 Le Brau. Fair princess, you have lost much are mightily misplaced: and the bountiful blind good sport. woman doth most mistake in her gifts to women. Cel. Sport? of what colour?

Cel. 'T'is true: for those, that she makes fair, Le Beau. What colour, madam? How shall I she scarce makes honest; and those, that she makes answer vou? honest, she makes very ill-favour'dly.

165) Ros. As wit and fortune will.

Clo. Or as the destinies decree.

i ibut he will not be entreated: Speak to him, ladies; . Cl. Well said ; that was laid on with a trowell. I see if you can move him. Clo. Nay, if I keep not my rank,

Celi Call him bither, good Monsieur Le Beau. Ros. 1 hou losest thy old smell.

Duke. Do so; Ill not be by. [Duke gres apurt. Li Benu. You amaze me?, ladies: I would have 51 Le Beau. Monsieur the challenger, the printold you of good wrestling, which you have lost cesses call for you. the sight of

Orla: I attend them with all respect and duty. kos. Yet tell us the manner of the wrestling. 1 | Ros. Young man, have you challenged Charles

Le Bcau. I will tell you the beginning, and, if ill the wrestler? please your ladyslips, you may see the end ; to 10 Orla. No, fair princess ; he is the general chalthe best is yet to do; and here, where you are, llenger : I come but in as others do, to try with they are coming to perforin it.

him the strength of my youth. Cel. Well, he beginning, that is clead and Cul. Young gentleman, your spirits are too bold buried.

for your vears: You have seen cruel proof of this Le Beau. There comes an old man and his three i 5 man's strength: if you saw yourself with your sons,

I leyes, or knew yourself with your judgment, the Cil. I could match this beginning with an old rear ot your adventure wouid counsel you to a more tale.

Jequal enterprise. We pray you for your own sake, Le Beau. Three proper young men of excellent to embrace your own safety, and give over this growth and presence;

120 attempt. lios. With biils' on their necks,-- Be it known Ros. Do, young sir: your reputation shall not untu cillinin b. these presents,

I therefore be inisprised: we will make it our suit to Le Beur. i he eldest of the three wrestled with the duke, that the wrestling might not go forward. Charles, the duke's wrestler; which Charles in al Orla. I beseech you, punish me not with your moment threw hun, and broke three of his ribs,25 hard thoughts: wherein I confess me much guilty, that there is little hop. of lite in him: so he serv'd to deny so fair and excellent ladies any thing. But the se 'ond, and so the third: Yonder they lie; let your fair eyes, and gentle wishes, go with me th, poyi old man, their father, making such piti- to my trial: wherein it I be foii'd, there is but

fu ūvi over them, that all the beholders take his one shan'd that was never gracious; if kuld, but - part with weeping.

30 one dead that is willing to be so: I shall do my Ros. Alus!

friends no wrong, for I have none to lament ine; Tln. But what is the sport, monsieur, that the the world no injury, for in it I have nothing; only ladies have lost?

in the world I fill up a place, which may be better I Beau. Winy this, that I speak of.

supplied when I have made it empty. Clo. Thus mi may grow wiser every day! It 35 Ros. The little strength that I have, I would it is the first time that ever I heard, breaking of ribs were with you. was spo i lor iadies.

1 Cel. And mine to eke out hers. Coi. Or 1, I promise thee.

Ros. Fare you well. Pray heaven I be deceiv'd Ros. But is there any else longs to see this broken in you! musich in his sides? is there yet another dotes 40 Cel. Your heart's desires be with you! upon rib-breaking? Shall we see this wrestling, Cha. Come, where is this young gallant, that cousin ?

I is so desirous to lie with his mother earth? Le beau. You must, if you stay here: for here Orla. Ready, sir; but his will hath in it a more is the place appointed for the wrestling, and they modest working. are ready to perforin it.

45 Duke. You shall try but one fall. Cel. Yonder, sure, they are coming: Let us Cha. No, I warrant your grace; you shall not now stay and see it.

I entreat him to a second, that have so mightily Flourish. Enier Duke Frederick, Lords, Or- persuaded bin from a first. Inndo, Charles, and attendants.

| Orlu. You mean to mock me after; you should Duke. Come on: since the youth will not be 50 not have mocked me before: but come your ways. entreated, his own peril on his forwardness.

Ros. Now, Hercules bi• thy speed, young man! Ros. Is yonder the man?

Cel. I would I were invisible, to catch the strong Le eau. Even he, maram.

I fellow by the leg !

[They wrestle. Cl. Alas, he is too young: yet he looks suc. Ros. O excellent young man ! cessfully.

155) Cel. If I had a thunderbolt in mine eye, I can Duki. How now, daughter and cousin? are you tell who should down.

[Shout. crept hither to see the wrestling?

Duke. No more, no more. [Charles is thrown. Ros. Ay, my liege, so please you give us leave. Orla. Yes, I beseech your grace; I am not yet

Duke. You will take little delight in it, I can well breathed. tell you, there is such odds in the men: In pity of 60 Duke. How dost thou, Charles ? the challenger's youth, I would fain dissuade him, | Le Beau. Ile cannot speak, my lord.

I A proverbial «xpression implying a glaring fulshood. ? Amaze here signifies to confuse, so as to put oin out of the intended narrative. i. e. bills accepting of the challenge given by Charles, the Duke's wrestler,

Duke.

Duke. Bear him away. What is thy name, 1 Orla. I thai k you, sir; and, pray you, tell me young man?

this; Orla. Orlando, my liege; the youngest son of Which of the two was daughter of the duke sir Rowland de Boys.

That bere was at the wrestling? (manners; Duke. I would thou had'st been son to sonie 5 Le Biau. Neither is daughter, if we judge by man else.

Put yet, indeed, the shorter is his daughter: The world esteem'd thiy father honourable, The other is daughter to the banish'd duke, But I did rind him still mine enemy ·

And here detain'd by her usurping uncle, Thou should'st have better pleas'd me with this To keep his daughter company ; whose loves Ilacist thou descended from another house. Ideed, 10 Are dearer than the natural bord of sisters. But fire thee well: thou art a gallant youlli;

ut I can tell you, that of late this duke I would thou hadst told me of another father. I Hath ta'en displeasure 'gainst bis gentle niece;

.. [Erit Duke, with his train. Grounded upon no other argument, Minnent Celia, Rosalind, Orlando. .. |But that the people praise her for her virtues, Cel. Were I my father, coz, would I do this? 115 Aud pity her for her good father's sake: , Orla. I am more proud to be sir Royland's son, And, on my life, bis malice 'gainst the lady His youngest son ; -and would not change that Will suddenly break forth.—Sir, fare you well! To be adopted heir to Fredericki [calling, Hereafter, in a better world than this,

Ros. My father lov’d sir Rowland as his soul, I shall desire more love and knowledge of you. And all the world was of my father's mind:

201

[Erit. Hal I before known this young man his son,

Orli. I rest much bounden to you ; fare you well. I should have given him tears unto entreaties;

| Thus must I from the smoke into the smother; Ere he should thus have ventur'd.

From tyrant duke unto a tyrant brother:Cil. Gentle cousin,

But, heavenly Rosalind !

(Erit. Let us go thank him, and encourage him: 125)

SCENE III.
My father's rough and envious disposition

An apartment in the Palace.
Sticks me at heart.-Sir, you have well deserv'd:! |
If you do keep your promises in love,

Enter Celia and Rosalind.
Biit justly as you have exceeded all promise, Cel. Why, cousin ; why, Rosalind;-Cupid
Your inistress shall be happy.

130 have mercy -Not a word? Ros. Gentirman,

| Ros. Not one to throw at a dog. [Giving him a chain from her neck. Cel. No, thy words are too precious to be cast Wear this for me; one out of suits with fortune ; laway upon curs, throw some of them at me; That could give more, but that her hand lacks coine, lame me with reasons. Shall we go, coz?

(means. 351 Ros. Then there were two cousins laid up; when Cel. Ay:--Fare you well, fair gentleman. the one should be lai'd with reaścns, and the Orla. Can I not say, I thank you! My better other mad without any. parts

[up, Cel. But is all this for your father? Are all thrown down; and that which here stands | Ros. No, some of it is for my child's father: Is but a quintaine', a m re lifeless block. 40 Oh, how full of briars is this working-day world! Ros. Be calls us bach: My pride tell with my! | Cel. They are but burs, cousin, thrown upon fortunes :

| Ithee in holiday foolery; if we walk not in the I'll ask him what he would :-Did you call, sir?- trodden paths, our very petticoats will catch them., Şir, you have wrestled well, and overthrown | Ros. I could shake them out my coat; these More than your enemies.

|45|burs are in my heart. Cl. Will you go, coz?

Ctl. Hem them away. Ros. Have with you :-Fare you well.

Ros. I would try; if I could cry, hem, and [Ereunt Rosalind and Celia. have hiin. Orla. Ithat passion langs these weights upon | Cel. Come, come, wrestle with thy affections. my tongue?

50 Ros. O, they take the part of a better wrestler I cannot speak to her, yet she urg'd conference, than myself. Enter Le Benu.

| Cel. O, a good wish pon vou! you will try O poor Orlando i thou art overthrown; I lin time, in despight of a fall.-- But, turning these Or Charles, or so;ething weaker, masters thee: | jests out of service, let us talk in good earnesi : Le Beau. Guo:isir, leo in friendship counsel you 55 Is it possible on şucli a sudden you should fall irTo leave this place: Abeit you have deserved to so strong a liking with old sir Rowland's youngHigh commendation, true applause, and love; est son ? Yet such is now the duke's condition?, Il Ros. The duke my father lor'd his father That he misconstrues all that you have done. I dearly. The duke is humourous; what he is indeed, 160 Cel. Doth it therefore ensue, that you should More suits you to conceive, than me to speak ofI love his son dearly? By this kind of chase, I

i The quintaine was a stake driven into a field, upon which were hung a shield and other trophies of war, at which they shot, darted, or rode with a lance. When the shield and the wophies were all Surowa down, the quintains remained. . i. e. character, disposition.

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should bate hiin, for my faiher hated his fathert | Cel. Pronounce that sentence then on me, my dearly': yet I hate not Orlando.

I cannot live out of her company. [liege; Ros. No, faith, hate him not, for my sake.

Duke. You are a tool :-You, niece, provide Cel. Why should I not? doth he not deservel

yourself; well ?

5 If you out-stay the time, upon mine honour, Enter Duke, with lords.

And in the greatness of my word, you die. Ros. Let me love him for that; and do you love

[Ereunt Duke, &c. him, because I do :-Look, here comes the duke. Cel. O iny poor Rosalind! whither wilt thou go?

Cel. With his eyes full of anger. I shaste, Wilt thou change fathers? I will give thee mine.

Duke. Mistress, dispatch you with your safest 101 charge thee, be not thou more griev'd than I am. And get you from our court.

Ros. I have more cause. Ros. Me, uncle?

| Cel. Thou hast not, cousin; Duke. You, cousin.

a Pr’ythee, be cheerful: know'st thou not, the duke Within these ten days, if that thou be'st found Haih banish'd me his daugbter ? So near our public court as twenty miles, 115 Ros. That he hath not."

flove Thou diest for it.

| Cel. No? hath not? Rosalind lacks then the Ros. I do beseech your grace,

Which teacheth thee that thou and I am one: Let me the knowledge of my fault bear with me :/ Shall we be sunder'd ? shall we part, sweet girl? If with myself I hold intelligence,

No; let my father seek another heir, Or have acquaintance with my own desires; 20 Therefore devise with me, how we inay fly, If that I do not dream, or be not frantick,

Whither to go, and what to bear with us: (As I do trust I am not) then, dear uncle,

And do not seek to take your change upon yon, Never, so much as in a thought unborn,

Tobear your griefs yourself, and leave me out; Did I offend your highness.

For, by this heaven, now at our sorrow's pale, Duke. Thrus do all traitors;

125 Say what thou canst, I'll go along with thee. If their purgation did consist in words,

Ros. Why, whither shall we go! They are as innocent as grace itself:

Cel. To seek my uncle in the forest of -Arden. Let it susfice thee, that I trust thee not.

| Ros. Alas, what danger will it be to us, Ros. Yet your mistrust cannot make me a trai- Maids as we are, to travel forth so far! Tell me, whereon the likelihood depends. {tor : 30 Beauty provoketh thieves sooner than gold. , Duke. Thou art thy father's daughter, there's 1 Cel. l'll put myself in poor and mean attire, enough.

dom; And with a kind of umber smirch my face: Ros. So was I, when your highness took his duke- The like do you; so shall we pass along, So was I, when your highness banish'd him;

And pever stir assailants. Treason is not inherited, my lord;

135 Ros. Were it not better, Or, if we did derive it from our friends,

Because that I am more thay common fall,
What's that to me? my father was no traitor: That I did suit me all points like a man?
Then, good my liege, mistake me not so much, A gallant curtle-ax? upon my thigh,
To think my poverty is treacherous.

A boas-spear in any hand; and (in my heart Cel. Dear sovereign, hear me speak. [sake, 40 Lie there what hidden woman's fear there will)

Duke. Ay, Celia; we but stay'd her for your We'll have a swashing and a martial outside; Else had she with her father rang'd along.

As many other mannish cowards have,
Col. I did not then entreat to have her stay, l That do outface it with their semblances.
It was your pleasure, and your own remorse; Cel. What shall I call thee when thou art a
I was too young that time to vahie her,

45
man?

[page; But now I know ber: if she be a traitor,

Ros. I'll have no worse a name than Jove's own Why, so am I: we still have slept together, and therefore look you call me Ganimed. Rose at an instant, learn’d, play'd, eat together; But what will you be call'd? And wheresoe'er we went, like Juno's swans, Cet. Something that hath a reference to my state; Still we went coupled and inseparable.

50 No longer Celia, but Aliena. Duke. She is too subtle for thee; and her Ros. But, cousin, what if we assay d to steal smoothness,

The clownish fool out of your father's court? Her very silence, and her patience,

Would he not be a coinfort to our travel? Speak to the people, and they pity her:

Cil. He'll go along o’er the wide world with me; Thou art a fool: she robs thee of thy name; 55 Leave me alone to woo him: Let's away, And thou wilt show more bright, and seem morel Jandget our jewels and our wealth together: virtuous,

Devise the tittest time, and safest way When she is gone: then open not thy lips;

To hide us from pursuit that will be made Firin and irrevocable is my doon

| After my flight: Now go we in content; Which I have past upon her; she is banislı'd. 1601To liberty, and not to banishment. Excunt.

Dear has the double meaning in Shak-peare of bebored, as well as of hurtful, huted, baleful; when applied in the latter sense, however, it ought to be spelt dere, «i. e, a broad-sword, i. e. a noisy, bullying outside,

ACT

АСТ II.

SCE NE J.

1 1 Lord. O, yes, into a thousand sinjilies.

First for his weeping in the needless stream; The Forest of Arden.

“ Poor deer,"quoth he, “thou mak'st a testament Enter Duke Senior, Amiens, and two or three

“ As worldlings do, giving thy sum of more

" 5" To that which had too much :” Then, being Lords like Forester's.

I Left and abandoner of his velvet friends; (alone, Duke Sen. Now, my.co-mates, and brothers for "Tisright,” quoth he; “ thus misery doth part in exile,

“ The flux of company:" Anon, a careless herd, Hath not old custom made this life more sweet Full of the pasture, jumps along by him, Than that of painted pomp? Are not these 10 And never stavs to greet him;“Ay,"quoth Jaques, woods

"Sweep on, you fat and greasy citizens; More free from peril than the envious court? "Tis just the fashion: Ilherefore do you look Here feel we but the penalty of Adam,

"Upon that poor and broken bankrupt there;" The seasons' difference; as the icy fang,

Thus most invectively he pierceth through And churlish chiding of the winter's wind; 15 The body of the country, city, court, Which when it bites and blows upon my body, Yea, and of this our life; swearing that we Even till I shrink with cold, I smile and say, Are mere usurpers, tyrants, and what's worse, This is no Hattery: these are counsellors

To fright the animals, and to kill them up, That feelingly persuade me what I am.

In their assign’d and native dwelling-place. Sweet are the uses of adversity.;

20 Duke Sen. And did you leave him in this conWhich, like the toad, ugly and venomous,

templation ;

[ing Wears yet a precious jewel in his head ' :

2 Lord. We did, my lord, weeping and commentAnd this our life, exempt from public baunt, 1 Upon the sobbing deer. Finds tonguesin trees, books in the running brooks, 1 Duke Sen. Show me the place ; Sermonsinstones, and good in every thing. (grace, 25 I love to cope ' him in these sullen fits,

Ami. I would not change it: Happy is your For then he's full of matter. That can translate the stubbornness of fortune | 2 Lord. I'll bring you to him straight. [Exeunt, Into so quiet and so sweet a stile. Duke Sen. Come, shallwe go and killus venison?

S CE N E II,
And yet it irks me, the poor dappled fools, 30

The Palace.
Being native burghers of this desert city,
Should in their own contines, with forked heads ? | Enter Duke Frederick with Lords.
Have their round haunches gor'd.

Duke. Can it be possible, that no man saw them? I Lord. Indeed, my lord,

It cannot be : some villains of my court The melancholy Jaques grieves at that;

35 Are of consent and sufferance in this, And, in that kind, swears you do more usurp 1 1 Lord, I cannot hear of any that did see her. Than doth your brother that hath banish'd you. The ladies, her attendants of her chamber, To-day my lord of Amiens, and myself,

Saw her a-bed; and, in the morning early, Did steal behind him, as he lay along

They found the bed untreasured of their mistress. Under an oak, whose antique root peeps out 1401 2 Lord. My lord, the roynish * clown, at whom I'pon the brook that brawls along this wood:

su oft To the which place a poor sequester'd stag,

Your grace was wont to laugh, is also missing. That from the hunters' aim had ta'en a hurt, Hesperia, the princess' gentlewoman, Did come to languish; and, indeed, my lord, Confesses that she secretly o’erheard The wretched animal heav'd forth such groans, 45 Your daughter and her cousin much cominend That their discharge did stretch his leathern coat! The parts and graces of the wrestler Almost to bursting; and the big round tears That did but lately foil the sinewy Charles; Cours'd one another down his innocent nose

And she believes, wherever they are gone, In piteous chase: and thus the hairy fool,

That youth is surely in their coinpany. [ther; Much marked of the melancholy Jaques, 501 Duke. Send to his brother; fetch that gallaut hiStood on the extremest verge of the swift brook, If he be absent, bring his brother to me. Augmenting it with tears.

I'll make him find him: do this suddenly; Duke Sen. But what said Jaques ?

And let not search and inquisition quail Did he not moralize this spectacle?

To bring again these foolish runaways, [Exeunt.

? This alludes to an opinion then prevalent, that in the head of an old toad was to be found a stone, or pearl, to which great virtues were ascribed. This stone has been often sought, but never found. Meaning, with arrows, ?That is, encounter hiin. ti, e, scurvy, inangy... To quail is to juint.

SCENE

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