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I speak but brotherly of him; but, should I anatomize him to thee as he is, I must blush and weep, and thou must look pale and wonder.

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

[Exit, L.

Oliv. Farewell, 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 schooled, 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 misprised. But it shall not be so long; this wrestler shall clear all: nothing remains, but that I kindle the boy thi ther, which now I'll go about. [Exit, R. SCENE III-A Lawn before the Duke's Palace.



Cel. (R.) I pray thee, Rosalind, sweet my coz, be mer

Ros. (L. c.) 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 banished father, you must not learn me how to remember any extraordinary plea


Cel. (R. c.) Herein, I see, thou lov'st me not with the full weight that I love thee. If my uncle, thy banished father, had banished thy uncle, the Duke, my father, so thou hadst been still with me, I could have taught my love to take thy father for mine; so wouldst thou, if the truth of thy love to me were so righteously tempered as mine is to thee.

Ros. 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 per force, I will render thee again in affection; by mine honour, I will; and, 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 love?

Cel. Marry, I pr'ythee, do, to make sport withal; but love no man in good earnest; nor no further in sport, neither, that 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. I would we could do so; 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 honest; and those that she makes honest, she makes very ill-favouredly.

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.

Cel. No! When Nature hath made a fair creature, may she not by Fortune fall into the fire? [Touchstone sings without, L.] Though Nature hath given us wit to flout at Fortune, hath not Fortune sent in this fool, to cut off the argument. [Ladies retire, R.

Enter TOUCHSTONE, L. How now, wit! whither wander you ?

Touch. (L.) Mistress, you must come away to your fa


Cel. Were made the messenger?


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

Ros. Where learned you that oath, fool?

Touch. Of a certain 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 not the knight forsworn.

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

Ros. Ay, marry, now unmuzzle your wisdom. Touch. Stand you both forth now: stroke your chins, and swear by your beards that I am a knave.

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

Touch. 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 all away be fore he ever saw those pancakes, or that mustard.

Cel. Here comes Monsieur Le Beau.

Ros. With his mouth full of news.

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

Ros. Then shall we be news-crammed.

Cel. All the better; we shall be the more marketable.

Enter LE BEAu, l.

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


Ros. As wit and fortune will.

Touch. Or as the destinies decree.

Cel. Well said! that was laid on with a trowel.

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

Ros. Yet tell us the manner of the wrestling.


Le Beau. (L. c.) I will tell you the beginning, [Goes to c. and, if it please your ladyships, you may see the end; for the best is yet to do; and here, where you are, they are coming to perform it.

Cel. (c.) Well-the beginning that is dead and buried. Le Beau. There comes an old man and his three


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

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

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

Le Beau. 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 served 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!

Touch. (L.) But what is the sport, Monsieur, that the ladies have lost?

Le Beau. Why, this that I speak of.

Touch. Thus men may grow wiser every day; it 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 music in his sides? Is there yet another dotes upon ribbreaking? 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.-All retire, R.


Duke. Come on: since the youth will not be 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 looks successfully. Duke. (c.) How now, daughter and cousin? are you crept hither to see the wrestling?

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. [Retires to a State Chair, c. of background.] In pity of the challenger's youth, I would fain dissuade him, but he will not be entreated: speak to him, ladies-see if you can move him.

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


Le Beau. Monsieur, the challenger, the princesses call

for you.

Örl. (L.) I attend them, with all respect and duty.

Ros. [Ros. and Cel. advance nearer Orl] Young man, have you challenged Charles, the wrestler?

Orl. 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 man's strength: if you saw yourself with your eyes, or knew yourself with your judgment, the fear of your adventure would counsel you to a more equal enterprise. We pray you, for your own sake, to embrace your own safety, and give over this attempt.

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.


Orl. I beseech you, punish me not with your hard thoughts; wherein, I confess me much guilty, to deny so fair and excellent ladies anything, But let fair eyes and gentle wishes go with me to my trial; wherein if I be foiled, there is but one shamed, that never was gracious; if killed, but 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.

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!

you 1!

Cel. Your heart's desires be with Chas. 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.

Chas. 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.

[Flourish of Trumpets and Drums while they wrestle.

Charles is thrown.

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