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have taught my love to take thy father for mine; so would'st thou, if the truth of thy love to me were so righteously temper'd as mine is to thec.
Ros. Well, I will forget the condition of my estate, to rejoice in yours.
Cel. You know, my father hath no child but I, nor none is like to have: and, truly, when he dies, thou shalt be his heir: for what he hath taken away from thy father perforce, I will render thee again in affection; by mine honour, I will; and when I break that oath, let me turn monster; therefore, my sweet Rose, my dear Rose, be merry.
Ros. From henceforth, I will, coz, and devise sports: let me see; What think you of falling in love?
Cel. Marry, I pr'ythee, do, to make sport withal: but love no man in good earnest; nor no further in sport neither, than with safety of a pure blush thou may'st in honour come off again.
Ros. What shall be our sport then?
Cel. Let us sit and mock the good housewife, Fortune, from her wheel, that her gifts may henceforth be bestowed equally.
Ros. I would, we could do so; for her benefits are mightily misplaced: and the bountiful blind woman doth most mistake in her gifts to women.
Cel. 'Tis true: for those, that she makes fair, she scarce makes honest; and those, that she makes honest, she makes very ill-favour'dly.
Ros. Nay, now thou goest from fortune's office to nature's fortune reigns in gifts of the world, not in the lineaments of nature.
Cel. No? When nature hath made a fair creature, may she not by fortune fall into the fire? Though nature hath given us wit to flout at fortune, hath not fortune sent in this fool to cut off the argument?
Ros. Indeed, there is fortune too hard for nature; when fortune makes nature's natural the cutter off of nature's wit.
Cel. Peradventure, this is not fortune's work neither, but nature's; who, perceiving our natural wits too dull to reason of such goddesses, hath sent this natural for our whetstone: for always the dulness of the fool is the whetstone of his wits. - How now, wit? whither wander you? Touch. Mistress, you must come away to your father,
Cel. Were you made the messenger? Touch. No, by mine honour; but I was bid to come for you.
Ros. Where learned you that oath, fool?
Touch. Of a certain knight, that swore by his honour they were good pancakes, and swore by his honour the mustard was naught: now, I'll stand to it, the pancakes were naught, and the mustard was good and yet was not the knight forsworn.
Cel. How prove you that, in the great heap of your knowledge?
Ros. Ay, marry; now unmuzzle your wisdom. Touch. Stand you both forth now: stroke your chins, and swear by your beards that I am a knave. Cel. By our beards, if we had them, thou art. Touch. By my knavery, if I had it, then I were: but if you swear by that that is not, you are not forsworn: no more was this knight, swearing by his honour, for he never had any; or if he had, he had sworn it away, before ever he saw those pancakes or that mustard.
Cel. Fr'ythee, who is't that thou mean'st? Touch. One that old Frederick, your father, loves. Cel. My father's love is enough to honour him. Enough! speak no more of him: you'll be whip'd for taxation, one of these days.
Touch. The more pity, that fools may not speak wisely, what wise men do foolishly.
Cel. By my troth, thou say'st true: for since the little wit, that fools have, was silenced, the little foolery, that wise men have, makes a great show. Here comes Monsieur Le Beau.
Enter LE BEAU.
Ros. With his mouth full of news.
Cel. Which he will put on us, as pigeons feed their young.
Ros. Then shall we be news-cramm'd.
Cel. All the better; we shall be the more marketable. Bon jour, Monsieur Le Beau: What's the news?
Le Beau. Fair princess, you have lost much good sport.
Cel. Sport? of what colour?
Le Beau. What colour, madam? How shall I answer you?
Ros. As wit and fortune will.
Touch. Or as the destinies decree.
Cel. Well said; that was laid on with a trowel.
Le Beau. You amaze me, ladies: I would have told you of good wrestling, which you have lost the sight of.
Ros. Yet tell us the manner of the wrestling.
Le Beau. I will tell you the beginning, and, if it please your ladyships, you may see the end; for the best is yet to do; and here, where you are, they are coming to perform it.
the beginning, that is dead and
Cel. Well, buried. Le Beau. There comes an old man, and his three sons,➖➖➖➖➖➖➖
Cel. I could match this beginning, with an old tale.
Le Beau. Three proper young men, of excellent growth and presence;
Ros. With bills on their necks, unto all men by these presents,·
Le Beau. 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: so he served the second, and so the third: Yonder they lie; the poor old man, their father, making such pitiful dole over them, that all the beholders take his part with weeping.
Be it known
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 up a place, which may be better supplied when I have made it empty.
Ros. The little strength that I have, I would it were with you.
Cel. And mine to eke out her's.
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?
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.
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 !
Shall we go, coz ?
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? -
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.
Re-enter LE BEAU.
0 poor Orlando! thou art overthrown : Or Charles, or something weaker, masters thee. Le Beau. Good sir, I do in friendship counsel
To leave this place: Albeit you have deserv'd
High commendation, true applause, and love;
Le Beau. Neither his daughter, if we judge by
But yet, indeed, the shorter is his daughter:
Orl. I rest much bounden to you: fare you well!
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 hea, 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.
Or, if we did derive it from our friends, What's that to me? my father was no traitor : Then, good, my liege, mistake me not so much, Cupid have To think my poverty is treacherous. Cel. Dear sovereign, hear me speak.
Duke F. Ay, Celia; we stay'd her for your sake. Else had she with her father rang'd along.
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 hm, because I do:-Look, here comes the duke. Cel. With his eyes full of anger.
Enter DUKE FREDERICK, with Lords.
Duke F. Mistress, despatch you with your safes haste,
And get you from our court.
Ros. Duke. You, cousin : Within these ten days if that thou be'st found So near our publick court as twenty miles, Thou diest for it.
I do beseech your grace,
Or have acquaintance with mine own desires;
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 dukedom;
Thus do all traitors;
So was I, when your highness banish'd him : Treason is not inherited, my lord:
Cel. I did not then entreat to have her stay,
Duke F. She is too subtle for thee; and her smoothness,
That he hath not.
Cel. I'll put myself in poor and mean attire,
The Forest of Arden.
SCENE I. Enter DUKE Senior, AMIENS, and other Lords, in the dress of Foresters.
Duke S. Now, my co-mates, and brothers in
Hath not old custom made this life more sweet
Which, like the toad, ugly and venemous,
Duke S. Come, shall we go and kill us venison ?
A gallant curtle-ax upon my thigh,
Cel. What shall I call thee, when thou art a man?
And therefore, look you, call me, Ganymede.
Cel. Something that hath a reference to my state :
Indeed, my lord,
Under an oak, whose antique root peeps out
Ros. But, cousin, what if we assay'd to steal
1 Lord. O, yes, into a thousand similies.
Ami. I would not change it: Happy is your 'Tis just the fashion: Wherefore do you look
Upon that poor and broken bankrupt there?
Duke S. And did you leave him in this contem
2 Lord. We did, my lord, weeping, and com
I love to cope him in these sullen fits,
2 Lord. I'll bring you to him straight.
That from the hunters' aim had ta’en a hurt,
Show me the place;
A Room in the Palace. Enter DUKE FREDERICK, Lords, and Attendants. Duke F. Can it be possible, that no man saw them? It cannot be some villains of my court Are of consent and sufferance in this.
1 Lord. I cannot hear of any that did see her. The ladies, her attendants of her chamber, Saw her a-bed; and, in the morning early, They found the bed untreasur'd of their mistress. 2 Lord. My lord, the roynish clown, at whom so oft
SCENE III. - Before Oliver's House. Enter ORLANDO and ADAM, meeting. Orl. Who's there?
Adam. What! my young master? gentle master,
O, my sweet master, O you memory
Orl. Why, what's the matter?
Your brother-(no, no brother; yet the son
He will have other means to cut you off;
I overheard him, and his practices.
Orl. Why, whither, Adam, wouldst thou have me go?
Adam. No matter whither, so you come not here. Orl. What, wouldst thou have me go and beg my food?
Or, with a base and boisterous sword, enforce
I rather will subject me to the malice Of a diverted blood, and bloody brother.
Adam. But do not so: I have five hunded crowns, The thrifty hire I sav'd under your father, Which I did store, to be my foster-nurse, When service should in my old limbs lie lame. And unregarded age in corners thrown; Take that and He that doth the ravens feed, Yea, providently caters for the sparrow, Be comfort to my age! Here is the gold; All this I give you: Let me be your servant ; Though I look old, yet I am strong and lusty: For in my youth I never did apply Hot and rebellious liquors in my blood; Nor did not with unbashful forehead woo The means of weakness and debility; Therefore my age is as a lusty winter, Frosty, but kindly let me go with you; I'll do the service of a younger man In all your business and necessities.
Orl. O good old man; how well in thee appears The constant service of the antique world, When service sweat for duty, not for meed! Thou art not for the fashion of these times, Where none will sweat, but for promotion; And having that, do choke their service up Even with the having: it is not so with thee. But, poor old man, thou prun'st a rotten tree, That cannot so much as a blossom yield, In lieu of all thy pains and husbandry : But come thy ways, we'll go along together; And ere we have thy youthful wages spent, We'll light upon some settled low content.
Adam. Master, go on; and I will follow thee, To the last gasp, with truth and loyalty.. From seventeen years till now almost fourscore Here lived I, but now live here no more. At seventeen years many their fortunes seek; But at fourscore, it is too late a week: Yet fortune cannot recompense me better, Than to die well, and not my master's debtor. [Exeunt.
SCENE IV. The Forest of Arden. Enter ROSALIND in boy's clothes, CELIA drest like a Shepherdess, and TOUCHSTONE.
Ros. O Jupiter! how weary are my spirits!
Touch. I care not for my spirits, if my legs were not weary.
Ros. I could find in my heart to disgrace my man's apparel, and to cry like a woman: but I must comfort the weaker vessel, as doublet and hose ought to show itself courageous to petticoat: therefore, courage, good Aliena.
Cel. I pray you, bear with me; I can go no further.