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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 see che End, for 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 Beu. There comes an old Man and his three Sons.

Cel. I would match this beginning with an old Tale. · Le Beu. Three proper young Men of excellent Growth and Presence.

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

Le Ben. 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: So he serv'd the second, and so the third : Yonder they lye, che 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, Monsieur, that the Ladies have lost?

Le Beu. Why this is that I speak of.

Clo. Thus Men grow wiser 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.

Ref. But is there any else longs to see this broken Mufick in his Sides? Is there yet another doats upon Rib-breaking? Shall we see this wrestling, Cousin?

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 sure they are coming: Let us now stay and see it. Flourish. Enter Duke Frederick, Lords, Orlando, Charles,

and Attendants. Duke. Come on, since the Youth will not be entreated, His own Peril on his forwardness. Rof. Is yonder the Man?


Duke. Do for bither, good Mesif you can

Le Beu. Even he, Madam. .

Cel. Alas, he is too young; yet he looks successfully.' isi -. Duke. How now, Daughter and Cousin; ; : - Are you crept hither to see the Wrestling?

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

Duke. You will take little Delight in it, I can tell vou, there is such odds in the Man: In Pity of the Challenger's T: Youth, I would fain diffuade him, but he wil not be enGa treated. Speak to him, Ladies, see if you can move him.

Cel. Call him hither, good Monsieur Le Beu. . . Lena Duke. Do so; I'll not be by. .

Le Ben. Monsieur the Challenger, the Princiss calls 'for a you.

Orla. I attend her with all Respect and Duty:

Ref. Young Man, have you challeng'd Charles the Wreftler?

Orla. No, fair Princess; 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 saw your self with your Eyes, or knew your self with your Judgment, the fear of your Adventure would counfel you to a more equal Enterprise. We pray you for your own Sake to embrace your own Safety, and give over this Attempt.

Rof. 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. i

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 : Bait let your fair Eyes and gentle Wishes go with me to my Trial, v herein if I be foil'd, there is but one sham'd that was never Gracious; if killd, but one dead that is willing to be so: I shall 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 supply'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,


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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 de
Girouş te lye with his Mother Earth?

Orla. Řeady Sir, but his Will hath in it a more modeli working.

Duke. You Tall try but one Fall.

Char. No, I warrant your Grace you shall not entrea him to a second, that have so mightily perfuaded him fron first.

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

Ref. Now Hercules be chy speed, young Man.

Col. I would I were invisible, to catch the strong Fel: low by the Leg.

Rof. Oh exceļlent young Man.

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

[Sbou, Duke. No more, no more,

[Charles is brown. Orle. Yes, I beseech your Grace, I am not yet well breathed.

Duke. How do'st thou, Charles?
Le Better He cannot speak, my Lord,

Drake. Bear him away.
What is thy Name, young Man?

Orla. Orlanda, my Liege, the youngest Son of Sir Roman land de Boys.

Duke. I would thou hadft been Son to some Map elfe;
The World esteem'd thy Father honourable,
But I did find him ftill mine Enemy:
Thou should'st have better pleas'd me with this Deed,
Hadit thou defcended from another House.
But fare thee well, thou art a gallant Youth,
I would thou hadít told me of another Father.

[Exit Dukan Cel. Were I my Father, Coz, would I do this?

Orla. I am m re proud to be Sir Rawland's Son,
His youngest Son, and would not change that Calling
To be adopted Heir to Frederick.

Ref. My Father lov'd Sir Rowland as his soul,
And all th: World was of my Father's Mind: -
Had ļ before known this young Man his Soni,

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, I should have given him Tears unto Entreaties,

E'er he should chus have ventur’d. - 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 deservod,

If you do keep your Promises in Love, ... But justly as you have exceeded all in Promise,

Your Mistress shall be happy:

· Rof. Gentleman,
Wear this for me; one out of Suits with Fortune, i
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 say, I thank you? My better Parts
Are all thrown down, and that which here stands 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 wrestled well, and overthrown
More than your Enemies.

Cel. Will you go, Coz?
Ros. Have with you: fare you well. [Ex, Ros, and Cel.

Orla. What Palljon hangs these Weights upon my Tongue?
I cannot speak to her; yet she urg'd Conference.

Enter Le Beu.
O poor Orlando! thou art overthrown
Or Charles, or something weaker masters thee.

Le Bek. Good Sir, I do in Friendship counsel you
To leave this place : Albeit you have deserv'd
High Commendation, trųe Applause, and Love;
Yet such 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 these two was Daughter to the Duke,
That here was at the Wreftling?

Le Beu. Neither his Daughter, if we judge by Manners,
But yet indeed the taller is his Daughter;
The other is Daughter to the ganishid Duke,

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Cel Willyour Enem: well, and you call 'Si ny Fortune

And here his daughtenarural Bre this Dule Ncice,

And here detain'd by her usurping Uncle
To keep his Daughter Company, whole 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 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 '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 must I from the Smoke into the Smother;
From Tyrant Duke, unto a Tyrant Brother ;
But heav'nly Rosalind!


Enter Celia and Rosalind. Cel. Why Cousin, why Rosalind; Cupid have 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.

Ross. 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?

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, Cousin, thrown upon thee in Holiday 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 Affe&tions.


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