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Duke F. How dost thou, Charles?

Le Bean. 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,

But I did find him still mine enemy:

Thou shouldst have better pleased me with this deed,

Hadst thou descended from another house.
But fare thee well; thou art a gallant youth;
I would, thou hadst told me of another father.

[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 loved 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 given him tears unto entreaties,
Ere he should thus have ventured.

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 deserved:
If you do keep your promises in love,

But justly, as you have exceeded promise,
Your mistress shall be happy.

Ros. Gentlemen, [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 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?

• Appellation.

+ The object to dart at in martial exercises.

Sir, you have wrestled well, and overthrown
More than your enemies.

Cel. Will you go coz?

Ros. Have with you :-Fare you well.

[Exeunt Rosalind and Ce lia. Orl. What passion hangs these weights upon my tongue?

I cannot speak to her, yet she urged conference,
Re-enter LE BEAU.

O poor Orlando! Thou art overthrown;
Or Charles, or something weaker, masters thee.
Le Beau. Good Sir, I do in friendship counsel you
To leave this place: albeit you have deserved
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.
Orl. 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?
[manners:
Le Beau. Neither his daughter, if we judge by
But yet, indeed, the shorter is his daughter:
The other is daughter to the banish'd duke,
And here detain'd by her usurping uncle,
To keep his daughter company; whose loves
Are dearer than the natural bond of sisters.
But I can tell you, that of late this duke
Hath ta'en displeasure 'gainst his gentle niece;
Grounded upon no other argument,

But that the people praise her for her virtues,
And pity her for her good father's sake;
And, on my life, his malice 'gainst the lady
Will suddenly break forth.-Sir, fare you well;
Hereafter, in a better world than this,

I shall desire more love and knowledge of you.
Orl. I rest much bounden to you: fare yon well!
[Exit Le Beau.
Thus must I from the smoke into the smother;
From tyrant duke, unto a tyrant brother :-
But heavenly Rosalind!

SCENE III-A Room in the Palace.

Enter CELIA and ROSALIND.

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Cel. Why, cousin; why, Rosalind ;-Cupid have mercy!-Not a word?

• Temper.

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: 0, how full of briars is this working-day world!

Cel. They are but burs, cousin, thrown upon thee in holyday 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 pos sible, 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.

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.

Enter Duke FREDERICK, with Lords.

Duke F. Mistress, despatch you with your safest And get you from our court.

Ros. Me, uncle!

Duke F. You, cousin :

[haste,

Within these ten days if that thou be'st found
So near our public court as twenty miles,

Thou diest for it.

• Inveterately.

Ros. I do beseech your grace,

Let me the knowledge of my fault bear with me: If with myself I hold intelligence,

Or have acquaintance with mine own desires;

If that I do not dream, or be not frantic,
(As I do trust I am not), then, dear uncle,
Never, so much as in a thought unborn,
Did I offend your highness.

Duke F. Thus do all traitors;

If their purgation did consist in words,
They are as innocent as grace itself:-
Let it suffice thee, that I trust thee not.

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. [dukedom; Ros. So was I, when your highness took his So was I, when your highness banish'd him: Treason is not inherited, my lord;

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,
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 ranged along. Cel. I did not then entreat to have her stay, It was your pleasure, and your own remorse I was too young that time to value her, But now I know her: if she be a traitor, Why so am I; we still have slept together, Rose at an instant, learn'd, play'd, eat together; And wheresoe'er we went, like Juno's swans, Still we went coupled, and inseparable.

Duke F. She is too subtle for thee; and her smoothness,

Her very silence, and her patience,

Speak to the people, and they pity her.

Thou art a fool: she robs thee of thy name;

And thou wilt shew more bright, and seem more virtuous,

When she is gone: then open not thy lips;
Pirm and irrevocable is my doom

Which I have pass'd upon her; she is banish'd.
Cel. Pronounce that sentence then on me, u

liege;

I cannot live out of her company.

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And, in that kind, swears you do more usurp
Than doth your brother that hath banish'd you.
To-day, my lord of Amiens, and myself,
Did steal behind him, as he lay along

Under an oak, whose antique root peeps out
Upon the brook that brawis along this wood:
To the which place a poor sequester'd stag,
That from the hunters' aim had ta'en a hurt,
Did come to languish; and, indeed, my lord,
The wretched animal heaved forth such groans,
That their discharge did stretch his leathern coat
Almost to bursting; and the big round tears
Coursed one another down his innocent nose
In piteous chase; and thus the hairy tool,
Much marked of the melancholy Jaques,
Stood on the extremest verge of the swift brook,
Augmenting it with tears.

Duke S. But what said Jaques ?
Did he not moralize this spectacle?

1 Lord. O, yes, into a thousand similies.
First, for his weeping in the needless stream;
Poor deer, quoth he, thou mak'st a testament
As worldlings do, giving thy sum of more

To that which had too much-Then, being alone,
Left and abandon'd of his velvet friends;
'Tis right, quoth he; thus misery doth part
The flux of company :-Anon, a careless herd,
Full of the pasture, jumps along by him,
And never stays to greet him; Ay, quoth Jaques,
Sweep on, you fat and greasy citizens;
'Tis just the fashion:-Wherefore do you look
Upon that poor and broken bankrupt there?
Thus most invectively he pierceth through
The body of the country, city, court,
Yea, and of this our life: swearing, that we
Are mere usurpers, tyrants, and what's worse,
To fright the animals, and to kill them up,
In their assign'd and native dwelling place.

Duke S. And did you leave him in this contemplation?

2 Lord. We did, my lord, weeping and commenting

Upon the sobbing deer.

Duke S. Shew me the place;

I love to cope him in these sullen fits,

For then he's full of matter.

2 Lord. I'll bring you to him straight.

• Encounter.

[Exeunt.

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