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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 itrength. If you saw yourself with your eyes, or knew yourself with your 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.
Ros. Do, young Sir; your reputation shall not there-
. The little strength that I have, I would it were
Cel. And mine to eke out hers.
u! Cha. Come, where is this young gallant, that is to defirous to lie with his mother earth?
Orla. Ready, Sir; but his will hath in it a more modeft 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 S. Rof. Now Hercules be thy fpeed, young man !
Cel. I would I were invisible, to catch the strong fellow by the leg !
[they wrestle. Ros: O excellent young man! Cél
. If I had a 'thunderbolt ir mine eye, I can tell who fould down.
(shout. 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 ?
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 fon to some man else ; The world esteem'd thy father honourable, But I did find him ftill mine enemy: Thou Mould'st have better pleas'd me with this deed, Hadit thou descended from another house. But fare thee well, thou art a gallant youth; I would, thou hadft told me of another father.
[Exit Duke, with bis Trains. Manent Celia, Rosalind, Orlando. Cel. Were I my father, coz, would I do this?
Orla. I am more proud to be Sir Rowland's fon, His youngest son, and would not change that calling to be adopted heir to Frederick.
Ros. My father lov'd Sir Rowland as his soul,
Cel. Gentle coufin,
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, (6) Is but a quintaine, a mere lifeless block.
Rof. He calls us back : my pride fell with my fortunes.
Exeunt Rof. and Cel.
(5) Wear this for me ;] There is nothing in the sequel of this fcene, expressing what it is that Rosalind here gives to Orlando : nor has there been hitherto any marginal direction to explain it. It would bave been no great burden to the editor's sagacity, to have fupply'd the note I have given in the margin: for afterwards, in the third act, when Rosalind has found a copy of verses in the woods writ on herself, and Celia asks her whether the knows who hath done this, Rosalind replies, by way of question, Is it a man ? to which Celia again replies, Ay, and a chain, tbat you once wore, about his neck.
(6) Is but a quintaine, ---) This word fignifies in general a post or butt set up for several kind of martial exercises. It served fometimes. to run against, on horseback, with a lance: and then one part of it was always moveable, and turn'd about an axis. But, besides this, there was another quintaine, that was only a pof fix'd firmly in the ground on which they hung a buckler, and threw their darts, and thot their arrows against it: and to this kind of quintaine it is that Sbakespeare here alludes : and taking it in this latter fenfe, there is an extreme beauty and justness in the thought. “ I am now, says Orlando, only " a quintaine, a more lifeless block, on which love only exercises his. * arms in jeft; the great difparity between me and Rosalind, in cone. “dition, not fuffering me to hope that ever love will make a serious " matter of it." Regnier, the famous satirist, who died about the time our author did, applies this very metaphor to the fame Subjects, bo' the thought be somewhat different. j
Et qui depuis dix ans, jusqu'en
fes derniers jours,
Mr. Warburtoni 3
Orla. O poor
Orla. What passion hangs these weights upon my
Enter Le Beu.
Le Beu. Good Sir, I do in friendthip counsel you
Orla. I thank you, Sir; and pray you, tell me this;
Le Beu. Neither his daughter, if we judge by manners; But yet, indeed, the shorter is his daughter; The other's daughter to the banilh'd Duke, And here detain'd by her usurping uncle To keep his daughter company, whole loves Are dearer than the natural bond of fifters. But I can tell you, that of late this Duke Hath ta’en displeasure 'gainst his gentle niece ; Grounded
argument, But that the people praise her for her virtues, And pity her for her good father's fake; 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. Exit.
Orla. I rest much bounden to you : fare you well! Thus muft I from the smoke into the smother; From tyrant Duke, unto a tyrant brother : But heav'nly Rosalind !
upon no other
SCENE changes to an Apartment in the
Col. W a ,
Re-enter Celia and Rosalinda
mercy; not a word ! Rof. 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.
Rof. Then there were two cousins laid up; when the one should be lam'd with reasons, and the other mad without any:
Cel. But is all this for your father?
Ref: (7). 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.
Roj. I could take them off my coat ; these burs are in my heart,
Cel. Hem them away.
Cel. O, a good with upon you ! you will try in time, in despight of a fall;- but turning these jelts out of service, let us talk in good earnest: is it posible 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.
(7). No, fome of it is for my father's child.] I have chosen to restore here the reading of the older copies, which evidently contains the poet's sentiment. Rosalind would say, “ no, all my distress and melancholy s is not for my father ; but some of it for my sweetheart,whom I hope " to marry and have children by.". In this sense te ftiles him her shild's fatber.