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 per. suaded him from a first. Orl. You mean to mock me after; you should not have nocked 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, Thou should'st 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*, To be adopted heir to Frederick. Ros. My father lov'd Sir Rowland as his soul, Cel. Gentle cousin. Let us go thank him, and encourage him: My father's rough and envious disposition 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 t; 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 for tunes: I'll ask him what he would:-Did you call, sir?- More than your enemies. Cel. Will you go, coz? Ros. Have with you :-Fare you well. [Exeunt Rosalind and Celia, Orl. What passion hangs these weights upon my tongue? I cannot speak to her, yet she urg'd conference. * Appellation. + Turned out of her service. The object to dart at in martial exercises. 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, I shall desire more love and knowledge of you. Thus must I from the smoke into the smother: From tyrant duke, unto a tyrant brother: But heavenly Rosalind! [Exit. 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 child's father: 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! you will try in time, in despite of a fall.-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 'faith, 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. Within these ten days if that thou be'st found Ros. I do beseech your grace, Or have acquaintance with mine own desires; (As I do trust I am not), then, dear uncle, Duke F. Thus do all traitors; If their purgation did consist in words. 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 duke. dom; So was I, when your highness banish'd him; • Inveterately. |