foul, yet I know not why, hates nothing more than he. Yet he's gentle; never fchool'd, and yet learned; full of noble device, of all Sorts enchantingly beloved; and, indeed, so much in the heart of the world, and especially of my own people who best know him, that I am altogether mifprifed. But it shall not be fo, long; this wrestler shall clear all; nothing remains, but that I kindle the boy thither, which now I'll go about. [Exit.

SCENE IV.

Changes to an Open Walk, before the Duke's Palace.
Enter Rofalind and Celia.

Cel. Pray thee, Rofalind, fweet my coz, be merryRof. Dear Celia, I show more mirth than I am mistress of; and would you yet I were merrier? unless you could teach me to forget a banish'd father, you muft not learn me how to remember any extraordinary pleasure.

Cel. Herein, I fee, thou lov'ft me not with the full weight that I love thee. If my uncle, thy banished father, had banished thy uncle the Duke, my father, fo thou hadst been ftill with me, I could have taught my love to take thy father for mine; fo would't thou if the truth of thy love to me were so righteously temper'd, as mine is to thee.

Rof. Well, I will forget the condition of my estate, to rejoice in yours.

Cel. You know, my father hath no child but I, nor none is like to have; and, truly, when he dies, thou shalt be his heir; for what he hath taken away from thy father perforce, I will render thee again in affection; by mine Honour, I will; and when I break that oath, let me turn monster: therefore, my fweet Rofe, my dear Rofe, be merry.

Rof.

Rof. From henceforth I will, coz, and devise Sports: let me fee, what think you of falling in love?

Cel. Marry, I pr'ythee, do, to make sport withal: but love no man in good earnest, nor no further in sport neither, than with fafety of a pure blush thou may'st in honour come off again.

Rof. What shall be our Sport then?

Cel. Let us fit and mock the good housewife Fortune from her wheel, that her gifts may henceforth be bestowed equally.

Rof. I would, we could do fo; for her benefits are mightily misplaced, and the bountiful blind woman doth most mistake in her gifts to women.

Cel. 'Tis true; for those, that she makes fair, she scarce makes honeft; and those, that she makes honeft, she makes very ill-favoured.

Rof. Nay, now thou goeft from fortune's office to nature's fortune reigns in gifts of the world, not in the lineaments of nature.

Enter Touchstone, a Clown.

Cel. No! when nature hath made a fair creature, may she not by fortune fall into the fire? tho' nature hath given us wit to flout at fortune, hath not fortune fent in this Fool to cut off this argument?

Rof. Indeed, there is fortune too hard for nature; when fortune makes Nature's natural the cutter off of nature's Wit.

Cel. Peradventure, this is not fortune's work neither, but nature's; who, perceiving our natural wits too dull to reason of fuch Goddeffes, hath fent this Natural for our whetstone: for always the dulness of the fool is the whetstone of the wits. How now, Wit, whither wander you?

Clo. Miftrefs, you must come away to your father. Cel. Were you made the messenger? $

Clo. No, by mine honour; but I was bid to come for you.

B 3

1.

Rof.

Rof. Where learned you that oath, fool?

Clo. Of a certain Knight, that fwore by his honour they were good pancakes, and fwore by his honour the muftard was naught: Now I'll ftand to it, the pancakes were naught, and the muflard was good, and yet was not the Knight forfworn.

Cel. How prove you that in the great heap of your knowledge?

Rof. Ay, marry; now unmuzzle your wisdom. Clo. Stand you both forth now? ftroke your chins, and fwear by your beards that I am a knave..!

Cel: By our beards, if we had them, thou art.

Clo. By my knavery, if I had it, then I were; but if you fwear by That that is not, you are not forfworn; no more was this Knight fwearing by his honour, for he never had any; or if he had, he had fworn it away, before ever he saw those pancakes or that mustard.

Cel. Pr'ythee, who is that thou mean'st?

Clo. One, that old Frederick your father loves.

Rof. My father's love is enough to honour him enough; speak no more of him, you'll be whipt for taxation one of these days.

Clo. The more pity, that fools may not speak wifely what wife men do foolishly.

Cel. By my troth, thou fay'ft true; for fince the little wit that fools have was filenc'd, the little foolery that wife men have makes a great Show: here comes Monfieur Le Beu.

SCENE V.

Enter Le Beu.

RofITH his mouth full of news.

W Cel. Which he will put on us, as pigeons

feed their young.

Rof. Then shall we be news-cram'd.

Cel.

Cel. All the better, we fhall be the more marketable. Bon jour, Monfieur le Beu; what news?

Le Beu. Fair Princess, you have loft much good Sport.

Cel. Sport; of what colour?

Le Beu. What colour, Madam? how fhall I anfwer you?

Rof. As wit and fortune will.

Clo. Or as-the deftinies decree.

Cel. Well faid; that was laid on with a trowel.
Clo. Nay, if I keep not my rank,
Rof. Thou lofeft thy old smell.

--

Le Beu. You amaze me, ladies; I would have told you of good wreftling, which you have loft the fight

of.

Rof. Yet tell us the manner of the wrestling.

Le Bew. I will tell you the beginning, and, if it please your Ladyfhips, you may fee the end, for the beft is yet to do; and here where you are, thý are coming to perform it. are.

Cel. Well, the beginning that is dead and buried. Le Beu. There comes an old man and his three fons.

Cel. I could match this beginning with an old tale. Le Beu. Three proper young men, of excellent growth and presence; 5 11 Rof. With bills on their necks.

Clo. Be it known unto all men by these prefents

Le Beu. The eldest of the three wrestled with Charles the Duke's Wrestler; which Charles in a moment threw him, and broke three of his ribs, that there is little hope of life in him: fo he ferv'd the Second, and fo the Third: yonder they lie, the poor old man their father making such pitiful Dole over them, that all the beholders take his part with weeping.

Rof. Alas!

I

Clo. But what is the Sport, Monfieur, that the ladies have loft?

Le Beu. Why this, that I fpeak of.

A

Clo. Thus men may grow wifer every day!. It is the first time that ever I heard breaking of ribs was fport for ladies.

Cel. Or I, I promise thee.

Rof. But is there any else longs to fet this broken mufic in his fides? is there yet another doats upon rib-breaking? fhall we fee this wreftling, Coufin?

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, fure, they are coming; let us now flay and fee it.

: Flourish. Enter Duke Frederick, Lords, Orlando, Charles, and Attendants.

J

Duke. C treated; his own peril on his forwardness.

HOME on, fince the Youth will not be en

Rof. Is yonder the man?

Le Beu. Even he, Madam.

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

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

}

I

Rof. Ay, my liege, fo pleafe you give us leave. Duke. You will take little delight in it, I can tell you, there is fuch 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, fee if you can move him.

Cel. Call him hither, good Monfieur Le Beu. Duke. Do fo; I'll not be by. [Duke goes apart. Le Beu. Monfieur the Challenger, the Princeffes call for you.

Orla. I attend them with all respect and duty.

Rof.