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 hers. Ros. Fare you well! 'Pray Heaven, I be deceived in you! Cel. Your heart's desires be with you ! Charles. 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. You shall try but one fall. Charles. No, I warrant your grace; you shall not entreat him to a second, that have so mightily persuaded him from a first. 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! Ccl. I would I were invisible, to catch the strong fellow by the leg! [They wrestle. Ros. If I had a thunderbolt in mine eye, I can tell who should down. Duke. No more, no more. [Shout. [CHARLES is thrown. Orl. Yes, I beseech your grace; I am not well breathed. Duke. How dost thou, Charles? Touch. He cannot speak, my lord. Duke. Bear him away. What is thy name, young man? Orl. Orlando, my liege: the youngest son of Sir Rowland de Boys. Duke. I would thou hadst been son to some man else! The world esteem'd thy father honourable, But I did find him still mine enemy: I would thou hadst told me of another father! [Exit DUKE, with his Train. 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. Cel. Were I my father, coz, would I do this? Cel. Gentle cousin, Let us go thank him, and encourage him: But justly, as you have exceeded all promise, Ros. Gentleman, [Giving him a Chain from her Neck, Wear this for me; one out of suits with fortune; 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 quintaine, 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. Oh, poor Orlando! thou art overthrown; Enter LE BEAU. Le Beau. Good sir, I do in friendship counsel you 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. [Exit. Thus must I, from the smoke into the smother; well! [Exit. SCENE IV. An Apartment 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.-But is all this for your father? Ros. No, some of it is for my child's father: Oh, 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. Oh, they take the part of a better wrestler than myself. Cel. Oh, a good wish upon you!-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, loved 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. Enter DUKE FREDERICK, with LORDS. 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. Fred. Mistress, dispatch you with your safest haste, And get you from our court! Ros. Me, uncle? Fred. You, cousin : Within these ten days, if that thou be'st found Ros. [Kneeling.] I do beseech your grace, Or have acquaintance with my own desires; Fred. 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. Fred. Thou art thy father's daughter, there's enough. Ros. So was 1, when your highness took his dukedom. So was I, when your highness banish'd him : Or, if we did derive it from our friends, Cel. Dear sovereign, hear me speak! |