place, which may be better supplied, when I have

made it empty.

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 deceived in you!

Cel. Your heart's desires be with you !

Charles. Come, where is this young gallant, that is so desirous to lie with his mother earth?

Orl. Ready, sir; but his will hath in it a more modest working.

Duke. You shall try but one fall.

Charles. No, I warrant your grace; you shall not entreat him to a second, that have so mightily persuaded him from a first.

Orl. You mean to mock me after; you should not have mocked me before: but come your ways. Ros. Now, Hercules be thy speed, young man! Ccl. I would I were invisible, to catch the strong fellow by the leg! [They wrestle. Ros. If I had a thunderbolt in mine eye, I can tell who should down.

Duke. No more, no more.

[Shout. [CHARLES is thrown.

Orl. Yes, I beseech your grace; I am not well breathed.

Duke. How dost thou, Charles?

Touch. He cannot speak, my lord.

Duke. Bear him away. What is thy name, young

man?

Orl. Orlando, my liege: the youngest son of Sir Rowland de Boys.

Duke. I would thou hadst been son to some man

else!

The world esteem'd thy father honourable,

But I did find him still mine enemy:

I would thou hadst told me of another father!

[Exit DUKE, with his Train.

Orl. 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.

Cel. Were I my father, coz, would I do this?
Ros. My father lov'd Sir Rowland as his soul,
And all the world was of my father's mind:
Had I before known this young man his son,
I should have given him tears unto entreaties,
Ere he should thus 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 deserv'd:
If you do keep your promises in love,

But justly, as you have exceeded all promise,
Your mistress shall be happy.

Ros. Gentleman,

[Giving him a Chain from her Neck, 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!

Orl. Can I not say, I thank you? My better parts Are all thrown down; and that, which here stands up, Is but a quintaine, a mere lifeless block.

Ros. He calls us back: My pride fell with my for

tunes:

I'll ask him what he would:-Did you call, sir ?
Sir, you have wrestled well, and overthrown

More than your enemies.

Cel. Will you go, coz ?

Ros. Have with you :-Fare you well!

[Exeunt ROSALIND and CELIA.

Orl. What passion hangs these weights upon my

tongue!

I cannot speak to her, yet she urg'd conference.

Oh, poor Orlando! thou art overthrown;
Or Charles, or something weaker, masters thee.

Enter LE BEAU.

Le Beau. Good sir, I do in friendship counsel you
To leave this place: Albeit you have deserv'd
High commendation, true applause, and love;
Yet, such is now the duke's condition,

That he misconstrues all that you have done.
The duke is humorous; what he is, indeed,
More suits you to conceive, than me to speak of.
Orl. I thank you, sir; and pray you, tell me this:
Which of the two was daughter of the duke,
That here was at the wrestling?

Le Beau. Neither his daughter, if we judge by

manners;

But yet, indeed, the shorter is his daughter:
The other is daughter to the banish'd duke,
And here detain'd by her usurping uncle,
To keep his daughter's company; whose 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 niece;
Grounded upon no other argument,

But, that the people praise her for her virtues,
And pity her, for her good father's sake;
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.
Orl. I rest much bounden to you; fare you

Thus must I, from the smoke into the smother;
From tyrant duke, unto a tyrant brother:
But heavenly Rosalind!

well!

[Exit.

SCENE IV.

An Apartment in the Palace.

Enter CELIA and ROSALIND.

Cel. Why, cousin; why, Rosalind; Cupid have mercy!-not a word?

Ros. 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.-But is all this for your father?

Ros. 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.

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 affections.

Ros. Oh, they take the part of a better wrestler than myself.

Cel. Oh, a good wish upon you!-But turning these jests out of service, let us talk in good earnest: Is it possible, on such a sudden, you should fall into so strong a liking with old Sir Rowland's youngest son?

Ros. The duke, my father, loved his father dearly. Cel. Doth it therefore ensue, that you should love his son dearly? By this kind of chase, I should hate him, for my father hated his father dearly; yet I hate not Orlando.

Ros. No, 'faith, hate him not, for my sake.
Cel. Why should I? doth he not deserve well?

Enter DUKE FREDERICK, with LORDS.

Ros. Let me love him for that; and do you love him, because I do:-Look, here comes the duke! Cel. With his eyes full of anger.

Fred. Mistress, dispatch you with your safest haste, And get you from our court!

Ros. Me, uncle?

Fred. You, cousin :

Within these ten days, if that thou be'st found
So near our public court as twenty miles,
Thou diest for it!

Ros. [Kneeling.] I do beseech your grace,
Let me the knowledge of my fault bear with me!
If with myself I hold intelligence,

Or have acquaintance with my own desires;
If that I do not dream, or be not frantic
(As I do trust I am not), then, dear uncle,
Never, so much as in a thought unborn,
Did I offend your highness.

Fred. Thus do all traitors;

If their purgation did consist in words,
They are as innocent as grace itself:-
Let it suffice thee, that I trust thee not.

Ros. Yet your mistrust cannot make me a traitor : Tell me, whereon the likelihood depends.

Fred. Thou art thy father's daughter, there's enough. Ros. So was 1, when your highness took his dukedom.

So was I, when your highness banish'd him :
Treason is not inherited, my lord,

Or, if we did derive it from our friends,
What's that to me? my father was no traitor :
Then, good my liege, mistake me not so much,
To think my poverty is treacherous.

Cel. Dear sovereign, hear me speak!