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treat him to a second, that have fo mightily persuaded him from a first.
Orla. You mean to mock me after; you should not have mock'd me before ; but come your ways.
Rif: Now Hercules be thy speed, young man!
Cel. I would I were invisible, to catch the strong fellow by the leg !
[They wrifile. Rof. O excellent young man !
Cel. If I had a thunderbolt in mine eye, I can tell who should down.
[Shout. Drike. No more, no more. [Charles is thrown.
Orla. Yes, I beseech your Grace; I am not yet well breathed.
Duke. How dost thou, Charles ?
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 hadít been son to some man elle ! The world cíteem'd thy father honourable, But I did find him still mine enemy : Thou should'st have better ple is'd me with this deed, Hadst 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 VII. Manent Celia, Rosalind, Orlando.
Gel. 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,
Cel. Gentle cousin,
If you do keep your promises in love,
Gel. Ay, fare you well, fair Gentleman.
parts Are all thrown down ; and that, which here stands up, Is but a quintaine, a mere lifeless block.
Rof. He calls us back: my pride fell with my for
I'll ask him what he would. Did you call, Sir ?
Cel. Will you go, coz ?
[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.
Orlando ! thou art overthrown ;
Le Beu. Good Sir, I do in friendship counsel you
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 manners; But yet, indeed, the shorter is his daughter; The other's daughter to the banish’d Duke, And here detain'd by her ufurping uncle To keep his daughter company; whose loves
Are dearer than the natural bond of lifters.
Orla. I rest much bounden to you: fare you well!
S CE N E VIII.
Re-enter Celia and Rosalind, Cel. Why, cousin; why, Rosalind ; Cupid have mer. cy; not a word!
Rof. Not one to throw at a dog.
Gel. No, thy words are too precious to be cast away upon curs, throw some of them at me ; come, lame me with reasons.
Rof. Then there were two cousins laid up; when the one thould be lam'd with reasons, and the other mad
Cel. But is all this for your father?
Ref. No, some of it is for my father's child. 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,
Rof. I could shake them off my coat; these burs are in my heart.
Cel. Hem them away.
Rof. O, they take the part of a better wrestler than myfeif. Vol. II.
Cel. O, a good with upon you! you will try in time, in despight of a fall;—but, turning these jefts 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 fon?
Rof. 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.
Rof. No, faith, hate him not, for my fake.
RS. Let me love him for that; and do you love him because I do. Look, here comes the Duke.
Gel. With his eyes full of anger.
Duke. Mistress, dispatch you with your fafest hafte, And get you from our court.
Rof. Me, uncle !
Duke. You, cousin.
Duke. Thus do all traitors;
itself : Let it suffice thee that I trust thee not.
Rof. Yet your miftruft cannot make me a traitor; Tell me wherein the likelihood depends.
Duke. Thou art thy father's daughter, there's enough.
Rof. So was I when your Highness took his dukedom; So was I when your Highness banish'd him; Treason is not inherited, my Lord;
Or if we did derive it from our friends,
Cel. Dear Sovereign, hear me speak.
Duke. Ay, Celia, we but staid her for your fake ;
Cel. I did not then intreat to have her stay;
Duke. She is too subtle for thee ; and her smooth-
Cel. Pronounce that sentence then on me, my Liege;
Duke. You are a fool : you, niece, provide yourself;
[Exeunt Duke, &c
SCEN E X.
Rof. I have more cause.
Cel. Thou hast not, cousin :
Rof. That he hath not.
Cel. No ? hath not ? Rosalind lacks then the love,