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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 ?
Duke, Bear him away. What is thy name, young: man ?
Orla. Orlando, my liege, the youngeft son of Sir
Duke. I would, thou hadft been son to some man else!
[Exit Duke, with his train,
Orla. I am more proud to be Sir Rowland's son,
Rol. My father lov'd Sir Rowland as his soul,
Cel. Gentle Cousin,
Orla. 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 meer lifeless block. Ros. He calls us back : my pride fell with
forI'll ask him what he would. Did you call, Sir ? Sir, you have wrestled well, and overthrown More than
enemies. Cel. Will you go, coz? Ros. Have with you : fare you
[Exeunt Ror. and Cel. Orla. What paffion hangs these weights upon my
tongue ? I cannot speak to her ; yet she urg'd conference.
Enter Le Beu.
Orlando! thou art overthrown;
Le Beu. Good Sir, I do in friendship counsel you
Orla. I thank you, Sir; and, pray you, tell me this ;
Le Beu. Neither his daughter, if we judge by man But yet, indeed, the shorter is his daughter The other's daughter to the banish'd Duke, And here detain'd by her usurping Uncle To keep his daughter company, whose loves Are dearer than the natural bond of fifters. 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 ;
SCENE changes to an Apartment in the Palace.
Re-enter Celia and Rosalind. Cei. Why, Cousin; why, Rosalind; Cupid have mercy; not a word !
Ref. Not one to throw at a dog.
Cél. No, thy words are too precious to be cast away upon curs, throw some of them at me ; come, lame me with reasons.
Rof. Then there were two Cousins laid up; when the one should be lam’d with Reafons, and the other mad. without any: Cel. But is all this for
father? Rof. No, some 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.
Rof. I could shake them off my coat; these burs are in my
heart. Cél. Hem them away. Ros. I would try, if I could cry, hem, and have him. Cel. Come, come, wrestle with thy affections. Rof. O, they take the part of a better Wrestler than
Cel. O, a good wish upon you ! you will try in time, in despight of a Fall; — but turning these jefts out of service, let us talk in good earnest: is it possible on such a sudden you should fall into fo ftrong a liking with old Sir Rowland's youngest son ?
Rof: The Duke my father lov'd his father dearly.
Cel. Doth it therefore ensue, that you should love his fon 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 fake.
Enter Duke, with Lords. Rof. Let me love him for that ; and do you love him, because I do. Look, here comes the Dúke.
Cel. With his eyes full of anger.
Duke. Mistress, dispatch you with your safest haste, And get you from our Court,
Rol. Me, Uncle !
Duke. You, Cousin.
ROS. I do beseech your Grace,
Duke. Thus do all traitors;
Ros. Yet your miftruft cannot make me a traitor ;
Duke. Thou art thy father's daughter, there's enough.
Rof. So was I, when your Highness took his DukeSo was I, when your Highness banish'd him ; [dom; 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 To think my poverty is treacherous.
Cel. Dear Sovereign, hear me speak.
Duke. Ay, Celia, we but staid her for your fake ; : Else had she with her father rang'd along.
Cel. I did not then entreat to have her stay ;
Duke. She is too subtle for thee; and her smoothnessy.
tuous, · When she is gone; then open not thy lips : Firm and irrevocable is my doom, Which I have past upon her; she is banish'd.
Cel. Pronounce that sentence then on me, my Liege ; I cannot live out of her company.
Duke. You are a fool : you, Neice, provide your
[Exeunt Duke, &ci.
Rof. I have more cause.
Cel. Thou hast not, cousin;
Rof. That he hath not.
Which teacherh thee that thou and I am one] Tho' this be the Reading of all the princed Copics, 'tis evi. dent, the Poet wrote ;