Lords belonging to the two Dukes; with pages, foresters, and other attendants.

The SCENE lies, first, near Oliver's house; and, afterwards, partly in the Duke's court, and purtly in the forest of Arden.

SCENE I.

Oliver's Orchard.

Enter Orlando and Adam.

ACT I

of a brother, and, as much as in him lies, mines my gentility with my education. This is it, Adam, that grieves me; and the spirit of my father, which I think is within me. begins to mutiny

Orlando. ASI remember, Adam, it was upon 5 against this servitude: I will no longer endure

this fashion bequeathed me:-By

will, but a poor thousand crowns; and, as thou
say'st, charg'd my brother on his blessing, to
breed me well: and there begins my sadness. My
brother Jaques he keeps at school, and report 10|
speaks goldenly of his profit: for my part, he
keeps me rustically at home, or, to speak more
properly, stays' me here at home, unkept; For
call you that keeping for a gentleman of my birth,
that differs not from the stalling an ox? His 15
horses are bred better; for, besides that they are fair
with their feeding, they are taught their manage,
and to that end riders dearly hired: but I, his
brother, gain nothing under him but growth; for
the which his animals on his dunghills are as much 20
bound to him as I. Besides this nothing that he so
plentifully gives me, the something that nature
gave me, his countenance seems to take from me:
he lets me feed with his hinds, bars me the place

it, though yet I know no wise remedy how to Javoid it.

Enter Oliver.

Adam. Yonder comes my master, your brother. Orla. Go apart, Adam, and thou shalt hear how he will shake me up.

Oli. Now, sir! what make you here? Orla. Nothing: I am not taught to make any thing.

Oli. What mar you then, sir?

Orla. Marry, sir, I am helping you to mar that which God made, a poor unworthy brother of yours, with idleness.

Oli. Marry, sir, be better employed, and be nought awhile.

Orla. Shall I keep your hogs, and eat husks with them? What prodigal portion have I spent, that I should come to such penury?

Oli. Know you where you are, sir?

'Dr. Warburton thinks we should read styes, i. e. keeps me like a brute, be content to be a cypher, or of no consequence for the present.

Probably meaning,
Orla.

Orla. O, sir, very well: here in your orchard.
Oli. Know you before whom, sir?

5

Orla. Ay, better than he, I am before, knows me. I know you are my eldest brother; and, in the gentle condition of blood, you should so know me: The courtesy of nations allows you my better, in that you are the first-born; but the same tradition takes not away my blood, were there twenty brothers betwixt us; I have as much of my father in me as you; albeit, I confess your coming 10 before me is nearer to his reverence.

Oli. Good monsieur Charles!-what's the new news at the new court?

Cha. There's no pews at the court, sir, but the old news: that is, the old duke is banish'd by his younger brother, the new duke; and three or four loving lords have put themselves into voluntary exile with him, whose land and revenues enrich the new duke, therefore he gives them good leave to wander.

Oli. Can you tell, if Rosalind, the old duke's daughter, be banished with her father?

Cha. O, no; for the new duke's daughter, her cousin, so loves her,-being ever from their cradles bred together, that she would have followed 15 her exile, or have died to stay behind her. She is at the court, and no less beloved of her uncle than his own daughter; and never two ladies loved as they do.

Orla. I am no villain: I am the youngest son of sir Rowland de Boys; he was my father; and he is thrice a villain, that says, such a father begot villains: Wert thou not my brother, I would not take this hand from thy throat, 'till this other had 20 pulled out thy tongue for saying so; thou hast railed on thyself.

Adam. Sweet masters, be patient; for your father's remembrance, be at accord.

Oli. Let me go, I say.

25

Orla. I will not, 'till I please; you shall hear me. My father charg'd you in his will to give me good education: you have train'd me up like a peasant, obscuring and hiding from me all gentle-| man-like qualities: the spirit of my father grows 30 strong in me, and I will no longer endure it: therefore allow me such exercises as may become a gentleman, or give me the poor allottery my father left me by testament; with that I will go buy my fortunes.

Oli. And what wilt thou do? beg, when that is spent? Well, sir, get you in: I will not long be troubled with you: you shall have some part of your will; I pray you, leave me.

35

Orla. I will no further offend you than becomes 40 me for my good.

Oli. Get you with him, you old dog.

Adam. Is old dog my reward? Most true, I have lost my teeth in your service.—God be with my old master, he would not have spoke such a 45 word. [Exeunt Orlando and Adum.

Oli. Is it even so? begin you to grow upon me?} I will physic your rankness, and yet give no thousand crowns neither. Holla, Dennis!

Enter Dennis.

Den. Calls your worship?

Oli. Was not Charles, the duke's wrestler, here to speak with me?

Oli. Where will the old duke live?

Cha. They say, he is already in the forest of Arden, and a many merry men with him; and there they live like the old Robin Hood of England: they say, many young gentlemen flock to him every day; and fleet the time carelessly, as they did in the golden world.

Ŏli. What, you wrestle to-morrow before the new duke?

Cha. Marry, do I, sir, and I come to acquaint you with a matter. I am given, sir, secretly to understand that your younger brother Orlando hath a disposition to come in disguis'd against me to try a fall: To-morrow, sir, I wrestle for my credit; and he that escapes me without some broken limb, shall acquit him well. Your brother is but young, and tender; and, for your love, I would be loth to foil him, as I must for mine own honour, if he come in: therefore, out of my love to you, I came hither to acquaint you withal; that either you might stay him from his intendment, or brook such disgrace well as he shall run into; in that it is a thing of his own search, and altoge ther against my will.

Oli. Charles, I thank thee for thy love to me, which thou shalt find, I will most kindly requite. I had myselfnotice of my brother's purpose herein, and have by underhand means laboured to dissuade him from it; but he is resolute. I'll tell thee, Charles--it is the stubbornest young fellow of France; full of ambition, an envious emulator of 50every man's good parts, a secret and villainous contriver against me his natural brother; therefore use thy discretion: I had as lief thou didst break his neck, as his finger; and thou wert best look to't: for if thou dost him any slight disgrace, or if he do not mightily grace himself on thee, he will practise against thee by poison; entrap thee by some treacherous device; and never leave thee, 'till he hath ta'en thy life by some indirect means or other: for, I assure thee, and almost with tears I speak 60 it, there is not one so young and so villainous, this day living. I speak it but brotherly of him; but

Den. So please, he is here at the door, and 55 importunes access to you.

Oli. Call him in.- -[Exit Dennis.] "Twill be a good way; and to-morrow the wrestling is. Enter Charles.

Cha, Good-morrow to your worship.

'Villain here means, a wicked or bloody man. of low extraction.

2 But in this place Orlando uses it for a fellow

should

should I anatomize him to thee as he is, I must blush and weep, and thou must look pale and wonder.

Cha. I am heartily glad I came hither to you: If he come to-morrow, I'll give him his payment: 5 if ever he go alone again, I'll never wrestle for prize more. And so, God keep your worship!

10

[Exit. Oli. Farewel, good Charles.Now will I stir this gamester: I hope, I shall see an end of him; for my soul, yet I know not why, hates nothing more than he. Yet he's gentle; never school'd, and yet learn'd; full of noble device; of all sorts enchantingly beloved; and, indeed, so much in the heart of the world, and especially of my own 15 people, who best know him, that I am altogether misprised: but it shall not be so long; this wrestler shall clear all: nothing remains, but that I kindle the boy thither, which now I'll go about. [Exit. SCENE II.

An open walk before the Duke's palace.
Enter Rosalind and Celia.

20

Cel. I pray thee, Rosalind, sweet my coz, be 25 merry.

Ros. 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 must not learn me how to remember 30 any extraordinary pleasure.

Cel. Herein, I see, thou lov'st me not with the full weight that I love thee: if my uncle, thy banished father, bad banished thy uncle, the duke my father, so thou hadst been still with me, I could 35 have taught my love to take thy father for mine; so would'st thou, if the truth of thy love to me were so righteously temper'd as mine is to thee.

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

40

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 45 when I break that oath, let me turn monster: therefore my sweet Rose, my dear Rose, be merry.

Ros. From henceforth I will, coz, and devise sports: let me see; What think you of falling in 50 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 safety of a pure .blush thou may'st in honour come off again.

Ros. What shall be our sport then?

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

Ros. Nay, now thou goest 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?-Though nature hath given us wit to flout at fortune, hath not fortune sent in this fool to cut off the argument?

Ros. 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 such goddesses, hath sent 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. Mistress 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.

Ros. Where learned you that oath, fool?

Clo. Ofacertain knight, that swore by his honour they were good pancakes, and swore by his honour the mustard was naught: now I'll stand to it, the pancakes were naught, and the mustard was good; and yet was the knight forsworn.

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

Ros. Ay, marry; now unmuzzle your wisdom. Clo. Stand you both forth now; stroke your chins, and swear by your beards that Fam 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 swear by that that is not, you are not forsworn; no more was this knight, swearing by his honour, for he never had any; or if he had, he had sworn it away, before ever he saw those pancakes or that mustard.

Cel. Pr'ythee, who is it that thou mean'st?
Clo. One that old Frederick, your father, loves.
Cel. My father's love is enough to honour him:
Enough! speak no more of him; you'll be whipp'd
for taxation, one of these days.

Clo. The more pity, that fools may not speak wisely what wise men do foolishly.

Cel. By my troth, thou say'st true; for since the little wit, that fools have, was silenc'd, the little foolery, that wise men have, makes a great show. Here comes Monsieur Le Beau. Enter Le Beau.

Ros. With his mouth full of news.

Cel. Which he will put on us, as pigeons feed 55 their young.

Ros. I would we could do so; for her benefits 60 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 honest; and those, that she makes honest, she makes very ill-favour'dly.

165

Q

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

Cel. All the better; we shall be the more marketable. Bon jour, Monsieur le Beau; what's the news?

Le Beau. Fair princess, you have lost much good sport.

Cel. Sport? of what colour?

Le Beau. What colour, madam? How shall I answer you?

Ros. As wit and fortune will,

Clo. Or as the destinies decree.

Ct. Well said; that was laid on with a trowel'.
Clo. Nay, if I keep not my rank,-
Ros. Thou losest thy old smell.

Le Beau. You amaze me2, ladies: I would have 5 told you of good wrestling, which you have lost the sight of.

Kos. Yet tell us the manner of the wrestling.

Le Beau. I will tell you the beginning, and, if it please your ladyships, you may see the end; fo: 10 the best is yet to do; and here, where you are,| they are coming to perform it.

Cel. Well, the beginning, that is dead and

buried.

Le Beau. There comes an old man and his three

sons,

Cl. I could match this beginning with an old tale.

Le Beau. Three proper young men of excellent growth and presence ;

Kos. With bills' on their necks,-Be it known unto all men by these presents,

but he will not be entreated: Speak to him, ladies; see if you can move him.

Cel. Call him hither, good Monsieur Le Beau, Duke. Do so; I'll not be by. [Duke goes apart. Le Beau. Monsieur the challenger, the princesses call for you.

Orla. I attend them with all respect and duty. Kos. Young man, have you challenged 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 15 man's strength: if you saw yourself with your eyes, or knew yourself with your judgment, the fear of your adventure wouid counsel you to a more equal enterprise. We pray you for your own sake, to embrace your own safety, and give over this 20 attempt.

Le Beau. The eldest of the three wrestled with Charles, the duke's wrestler; which Charles in al moment threw him, and broke three of his ribs, 25 that there is little hope of life in him: so he serv'd the second, and so 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.

Ros. Alas!

Clo. But what is the sport, monsieur, that the ladies have lost?

Le Beau. Why this, that I speak of.

Ros. 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 confess me much guilty, to deny so fair and excellent ladies any thing. But let your fair eyes, and gentle wishes, go with me to my trial: wherein if I be foil'd, there is but one sham'd that was never gracious; if kill'd, but 30 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.

Clo. Thus men may grow wiser every day! It 35 is the first time that ever I heard, breaking of ribs was sport for ladies.

Cel. Or I, I promise thee.

Ros. But is there any else longs to see this broken musick in his sides? is there yet another dotes 40 upon rib-breaking? Shall we see this wrestling, cousin?

Le Beau. 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.

Flourish. Enter Duke Frederick, Lords, Orlando, Charles, and attendants.

45

Duke. Come on: since the youth will not be 50 entreated, his own peril on his forwardness. Ros. Is yonder the man?

Le Beau. Even he, madam.

Cel. Alas, he is too young: yet he tooks successfully.

Duke. How now, daughter and cousin? are you crept hither to see the wrestling?

155

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 60 the challenger's youth, I would fain dissuade him,

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

Cel. And mine to eke out hers.

Ros. Fare you well. Pray heaven I be deceiv'd in you!

Cel. Your heart's 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.

Chu. 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 mocked me before: but come your ways. Ros. Now, Hercules b. 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.
[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?
He cannot speak, my lord.

1 A proverbial expression implying a glaring falshood.

Amaze here signifies to confuse, so as to

put him out of the intended narrative.i. e. bills accepting of the challenge given by Charles, the Duke's wrestler.

Duke.