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ROS: But is there any else longs to set this broken musick in his sides? is there yet another doats upon rib-breaking ? shall we see this wrestling, Cousin

Le Beu. You must if you stay here, for here is the place appointed for the wrestling; and they are ready to perform it.

Cel. Yonder, sure, they are coming; let us now stay and see it.

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Flourish. Enter Duke Frederick, Lords, Orlando,

Charles and Attendants. Duke. Come on, since the Youth will not be entreated ; his own peril on his forwardness.

Rof. Is yonder the man?
Le Beu. Even he, Madam.

Cel. Alas, he is too young; yet he looks fuccefffully.

Duke. How now, Daughter and Cousin; are you crept hither to see the wrestling ?

Ros. Ay, my liege, so please you give us leave.

Duke. You will take little delight in it, I can tell you, there is such odds in the men: in pity of the challenger's youth, I would fain diffuade him, but he will not be entreated. Speak to him, ladies, see if

you can move him.
Cel. Call him hither, good Monsieur Le Beu.
Duke. Do so; I'll not be by. [Duke goes apart.
Le Beu. Monsieur the Challenger, the Princesses

call for you.

8 Is there any else longs to see this broken mufick in his fides?) A ftupid error in the copies. They are talking here of some who had their ribs broke in wrestling: and the pleasantry of Rosalind's repartee must consist in the allusion the makes to compofing in musick. It necessarily follows therefore, that the poet -Set this broken mufick in his fides.

Orla.

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Orla. I attend them with all respect and duty.

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

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 spirits are too bold for your years: you have seen cruel proof of this man's strength. If you saw your self with our eyes, or knew your self with our judgment, the fear of your adventure would counsel 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 Sir; your reputation shall not therefore be misprised; we will make it our suit to the Duke, that the wrestling might not go forward.

Orla. I beseech 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 tryal, wherein if I be foild, there is but one sham'd that was never gracious; if kill'd, 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:

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

Cel. And mine to eek out hers.
Ros. Fare you well; pray heav'n, I be deceiv'd

in you.

9. If you saw your self with your eyes, or knew your self with YOUR judgment,] Absurd! The sense requires that we should read, our eyes, and our judgment. The argument is, Your spirits are too bold, and therefore your judgment deceives you ; but did you see and know your self with our more impartial judgment you would forbear,

Orla.

Orla. Your hearts desires be with you!

Cha. Come, where is this young Gallant, that is so desirous to lie with his mother earth?

Orla. Ready, Sir ; but his Will hath in it a more modest working. Duke. You shall try but one Fall.

Cha. No, I warrant your Grace, you shall not entreat him to a second, that have so mightily persuaded him from a first.

Orla. You mean to mock me after ; you should not have mockt 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!

[They wrestle. Ros. O excellent young man!

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

[hout. Duke. No more, no more. [Charles is thrown.

Orla. Yes, I beseech your Grace; I am not yet well breathed.

Duke. How dost thou, Charles ?
Le Beu. He cannot speak, my Lord.

Duke. Bear him away. What is thy name, young man?

Orla. Orlando, my liege, the youngest son of Sir Rowland de Boys. Duke. I would, thou hadft been son to some man

else! The world esteem'd thy Father honourable, But I did find him ftill mine enemy : Thou should'st have better pleas'd me with this deed, Hadft thou descended from another House. But fare thee well, thou art a gallant youth ; I would, thou hadít told me of another father.

[Exit Duke, with his train.

SCENE

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E

N E

VII.

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Manent Celia, Rosalind, Orlando.
Cel. Were I my father, coz, would I do this?

Orla. 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.

Rof. My father lov'd Sir Rowland as his soul,
And all the world was of my father's mind :
Had I before known this young man his son,
I should have giv’n him tears unto entreaties,
Ere he should thus have ventur’d.

Cel. Gentle Cousin,
Let us go thank him and encourage him;
My father's rough and envious disposition
Sticks me at heart. Sir, you have well deserv'd:
If
you

do keep your promises in love,
But justly as you have exceeded all in promise,
Your mistress shall be happy.

Rof. Gentleman,
Wear this for me, one out of suits with fortune,
That could give more, but that her hand lacks means.
Shall we go, coz? [Giving him a Chain from her Neck.

Cel. Ay, fare you well, fair gentleman.
Orla. 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 meer lifeless block.

Ros.

i Is but a quintaine, a meer lifeless block.) A Quintaine was a Poft or Butt set up for several kinds of martial exercises, againit which they threw their darts and exercised their arms. The al. lufion is beautiful. I am, says Orlando, only a quintaine, a lifeless block on which love only exercises his arms in jeft; the great disparity of condition between Rosalind and me, not suffering me to hope that love will ever make a serious matter of it. The fa

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mous

Ref. He calls us back: my pride fell with my for

tunes.
I'll ask him what he would. Did you call, Sir?
Sir, you have wrestled well, and overthrown
More than your enemies.

Cel. Will you go, coz?
Rof. Have with you: fare you well.

[Exeunt Ros. and Cel. Orla. What passion hangs these weights upon my

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

Enter Le Beu.
O
poor

Orlando! thou art overthrown;
Or Charles, or something weaker, masters thee.

Le Beu. Good Sir, I do in friendship counsel you
To leave this place. Albeit you have deserv'd
High commendation, true applause, and love;
Yet such is now the Duke's condition,
That he misconstrues all that you have done.
The Duke is humorous; what he is, indeed,
More suits you to conceive, than me to speak of.

Orla. I thank you, Sir; and, pray you, tell me

this;

Which of the two was Daughter of the Duke
That here was at the wrestling?
Le Beu. Neither his daughter, if we judge by man-

ners ; But yet, indeed, the shorter is his daughter ; The other's daughter to the banilh'd Duke, mous satirift Regnier, who lived about the time of our author, ufes

same metaphor, on the same subject, tho' the thought be different.

Et qui depuis dix ans, jusqu'en ses derniers jours,

A foutenu le prix en efcrime d'amours ;
Lale en fin de servir au peuple de QUINTAINE,
Elle &c.

And

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