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Ref. Yet tell us the manner of the Wrestling.

Le Beu. I will tell you the Beginning, and if it please your Ladyships, you may fee the End, for the beft 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 Beu. There comes an old Man and his three Sons. Cel. I would match this beginning with an old Tale. Le Ben. Three proper young Men of excellent Growth and Profence.

Rof. With Bills on their Necks: Be it known unto all Men by these Presents.

Le Ben. The eldeft of the three wreftled with Charles the Duke's Wreftler, which Charles in a Moment threw him, and broke three of his Ribs, that there is little Hope of Life in him: So he ferv'd the fecond, and fo the third: Yonder they lye, the poor old Man their Father, making fuch pitiful Dole over them, that all the Beholders take his Part with weeping.

Rof. Alas.

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

Le Beu. Why this is that I fpeak of.

Clo. Thus Men grow wifer every Day. It is the first time that ever I heard of breaking of Ribs was Sport for Ladies.

Cel. Or I, I promise thee.

Rof. But is there any elfe longs to fee this broken Mufick in his Sides? Is there yet another doats upon Rib-breaking? Shall we fee this wreftling, Coufin?

Le Beu. You must if you stay here, for here is the Place appointed for wrestling, and they are ready to perform

it.

Cel. Yonder fure they are coming: Let us now ftay and fee it.

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

Duke. Come on, fince the Youth will not be entreated, His own Peril on his forwardness.

Rof. Is yonder the Man?

Le

Le Beu. Even he, Madam.

Cel. Alas, he is too young; yet he looks fuccessfully. ›
Duke. How now, Daughter and Coufin;
Are you crept hither to fee the Wrestling?

Rof. Ay, my Liege, fo please you give us leave.

Duke. You will take little Delight in it, I can tell you, there is fuch odds in the Man: 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 Ben.

Duke. Do fo; I'll not be by.

Le Ben. Monfieur the Challenger, the Princefs calls 'for you.

Orla. I attend her with all Refpect and Duty.

Rof. Young Man, have you challeng'd Charles the Wreft

ler?

Orla. No, fair Princefs; he is the general Challenger, I come but 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 Strength. If you faw your felf with your Eyes, or knew your felf with your Judgment, the fear of your Adventure would counfel you to a more equal Enterprife. We pray you for your own Sake to embrace your own Safety, and give over this Attempt.

Rof. Do, young Sir, your Reputation fhall not therefore be mifprifed; we will make it our Suit to the Duke, that the Wrestling might not go forward.

Orla. I beleech you punish me not with your hard Thoughts, wherein I confefs me much guilty to deny fo 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 fham'd that was never Gracious; if kill'd, but one dead that is willing to be fo: I fhall do my Friends no wrong, for I have none to lament me; the the World no Injury, for in it I have nothing; only in the World I fill up a Place, which may be better fupply'd when I have made it empty.

Rof. The little Strength I have, I would it were with you.

Cel, And mine to eek out hers,

R.

Rof. Fare you well; pray Heav'n I be deceiv'd in you, Cel. Your Heart's Defires be with you.

Char. Come, where is this young Gallant, that is so defirous to lye with his Mother Earth?

Orla. Ready Sir, but his Will hath in it a more modest working.

·Dake. You fhall try but one Fall.

Char. No, I warrant your Grace you fhall not entreat him to a fecond, that have fo mightily perfuaded him from a first.

Orla. You mean to mock me after; you should not have mockt before; but come your ways.

Ref. Now Hercules be thy fpeed, young Man.

Cel. I would I were invifible, to catch the ftrong Fellow by the Leg. [They Wrestle.

Rof. Oh excellent young Man.

Cel. If I had a Thunderbolt in mine Eye, I can tell who fhould down,

Duke. No more, no more,

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[Charles is thrown.

Orla. Yes, I beseech your Grace, I am not yet well

breathed.

Duke. How do'ft thou, Charles?

Le Ben. He cannot speak, my Lord.

Duke. Bear him away.

What is thy Name, young Man?

Orla. Orlando, my Liege, the youngeft Son of Sir R Jand de Boys.

Duke. I would thou hadst been Son to fome Man elfe; The World efteem'd thy Father honourable,

But I did find him still mine Enemy:

Thou should'st have better pleas'd me with this Deed,
Hadft thou defcended from another House.
But fare thee well, thou art a gallant Youth,

I would thou hadft told me of another Father.

[Exit Duke

Cel. 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, And all the World was of my Father's Mind: ad I before known this young Man his Son,

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I should have given him Tears unto Entreaties,
E'er he fhould thus have ventur'd.

Cel. Gentle Coufin,

Let us go thank him, and encourage him;
My Father's rough and envious Difpofition
Sticks me at Heart. Sir, you have well deferv'd,
If you do keep your Promifes in Love,

But juftly as you have exceeded all in Promife,
Your Mistress fhall be happy.

Rof. Gentleman,

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.

Orla. Can I not fay, I thank you? My better Parts Are all thrown down, and that which here ftands up Is but a Quintine, a more liveless Block.

Rof. He calls us back: my Pride fell with my Fortunes. I'll ask him what he would. Did you call Sir?

Şir, you have wreftled well, and overthrown

More than your Enemies.

Cel. Will you go, Coz?

Rof. Have with you: fare you well. [Ex, Rof, and Cel. Orla. What Paffion hangs thefe Weights upon my Tongue? I cannot speak to her; yet the urg'd Conference.

Enter Le Beu.

O poor Orlando! thou art overthrown

Or Charles, or fomething weaker mafters thee.
Le Beu. Good Sir, I do in Friendship counsel you
To leave this Place: Albeit you have deferv'd
High Commendation, true Applaufe, and Love;
Yet fuch is now the Duke's Condition,
That he misconsters all that you have done.
The Duke is humorous; what he is indeed
More fuits you to conceive, than me to speak of.
Orla. I thank you Sir, and pray you tell me this,
Which of thefe two was Daughter to the Duke,
That here was at the Wrestling?

Le Bes. Neither his Daughter, if we judge by Manners, But yet indeed the taller is his Daughter;

The other is Daughter to the banish'd Duke,

And

And here detain'd by her ufurping Uncle
To keep his Daughter Company, whofe Loves
Are dearer than the natural Bond of Sifters:
But I can tell you, that of late this Duke
Hath ta'en Difpleafure 'gainft his gentle Neice,
Grounded upon no other 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 'gainft the Lady
Will fuddenly break forth. Sir, fare you well,
Hereafter in a better World than this,

[Exit.

I fhall defire more Love and Knowledge of you.
Orla. I reft much bounden to you: Fare you well!

Thus must I from the Smoke into the Smother;

From Tyrant Duke, unto a Tyrant Brother;
But heav'nly Refalind!

[Exit.

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Cel. Why Coufin, why Rofalind; Cupid have Mercy; not

a word!

Rof. Not one to throw at a Dog.

Cel. No, thy words are too precious to be caft away upon Curs, throw fome of them at me; come, lame me with Reafons.

Rof. Then there were two Coufins laid up, when the one fhould be lam'd with Reafons, and the other mad, without any.

Cel. But is all this for your Father?"

Rof. No, fome of it is for my Child's Father. Oh how full of Briers is this working-Day-world.

Cel. They are but Burs, Coufin, thrown upon thee in Holiday Foolery; if we walk not in the trodden Paths, our very Petticoats will catch them.

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Rof. I could fhake them off my Coat; thefe Burs are in my Heart.<

Cel. Hem them away.

Rof. I would try, if I could cry Hem, and have him. Cel. Come, come, 'wreftle with thy Affections.

Rof

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