Ref. Young man, have you challeng'd Charles the wrestler?

Orla. No, fair princefs; he is the general challenger: I come but in, as others do, to try with him the ftrength of my youth.

Gel. Young gentleman, your fpirits are too bold for your years: You have feen cruel proof of this man's ftrength: if you faw yourself with your eyes, or knew yourself with your judgment, the fear of your adventure would counfel you to a more equal enterprise. We pray you, for your own fake, to embrace your own fafety, and give over this attempt.

Ref. Do, young fir; your reputation fhall not therefore be mifprifed: we will make it our fuit to the duke, that the wrestling might not go forward,

Orla. I befeech 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 world no injury, for in it I have nothing; only in the world I fill up a place, which may be better fapplied when I have made it empty.

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

Cel. And mine to eke out hers.

Ref. Fare you well. Pray heaven I be deceiv'd in you!

Cel. Your heart's defires be with you!

Cha. Come, where is this young gallant, that is fo defirous to lie with his mother earth?

Orla

Orla. Ready, fir: but his will hath in it a more modeft working.

Duke. You thall try but one fall.

Cha. No, I warrant your grace; you shall 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 mocked me before: but come your ways. Rof. Now, Hercules be thy speed, young man! Cel. I would I were invifible, to catch the ftrong fellow by the leg! [They wrefile.

Rof. O excellent young man!

Cel. If I had a thunderbolt in mine eye, I can tell who fhould down.

[Shout. Duke. No more, no more. [CHARLES is thrown. Orla. Yes, I beseech your grace; I am not yet well breathed.

Duke. How doft thou, Charles?

Le Beau. He cannot fpeak, my lord.

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

Orla. Orlando, my liege; the youngest son of
Sir Rowland de Boys.

Duke. I would thou hadft been fon to fome man elfe.
The world esteem'd thy father honourable,
But I did find him still mine enemy:

Thou shouldft have better pleas'd me with this deed,
Hadft thou defcended from another house.
But fare thee well; thou art a valiant youth;
I would, thou hadst told me of another father.
[Exit Duke with his Train.

Manent CELIA, ROSALIND, and Orlando.
Cel. Were I my father, coz, would I do this?

Orla

Orla. I am more proud to be Sir Rowland's fon, His youngest fon;-and would not change that To be adopted heir to Frederick. [calling, Rof. My father lov'd Sir Rowland as his foul, And all the world was of my father's mind: Had I before known this young man his fon, I thould have given him tears unto entreaties, Ere he fhould thus have ventur'd.

Cel. Gentle coufin,

Let us thank him and encourage him:
My father's rough and envious disposition
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 promise,
Your mistress fhall be happy.

Rof. Gentleman,

[Giving him a chain from her neck. Wear this for me; one out of fuits 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 quintaine, a mere lifeless block.

Rof. He calls us back: My pride fell with my fortunes:

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

More than your enemies.

Cel. Will you go, coz?

Rof. 'Have with you:

-Fare you well. [Exeunt ROSALIND, and CELIA

Orla. What paffion hangs these weights upon my

tongue!

I cannot

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

Enter LE BEAU.

O poor Orlando! thou art overthrown;
Or Charles, or fomething weaker, mafters thee.
Le Beau. Good fir, I do in friendfhip counsel your
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 mifconftrues all that you have done.
The duke is humerous; what he is, indeed,
More fuits you to conceive, than me to speak of.
Orla. I thank you, fir: 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 fhorter is his daughter:
The other is daughter to the banish'd duke,
And here detain'd by her ufurping uncle,
To keep his daughter company; whofe loves
Are dearer than the natural bond of fifters.
But I can tell you, that of late this duke
Hath ta'en difpleafure 'gainft his gentle niece;
Grounded upon no other argument,

But that the people praife her for her virtues,
And pity her for her good father's fake;
And, on my life, his malice 'gainst the lady
Will fuddenly break forth.-Sir, fare you well
Hereafter, in a better world than this,

I fhall defire more love and knowledge of you

2

[Exit Orla. I reft much bounden to you: fare you well! Thus muft I from the fmoke into the fmother;

From

From tyrant duke unto a tyrant brother::-
But heavenly Rofalind!

[Exit.

SCENE III. An Apartment in the Palace.

Enter CELIA, and ROSALIND.

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 reasons.

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 briars 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. Rof. I could fhake them off my coat; these burs are in my heart.

Cel. Hem them away.

Ref. I would try; If I could cry, hem, and have him.

Cel. Come, wrestle with thy affections.

Rof. O, they take the part of a better wrestler than myself.

in

Cel. O, a good wish upon you! you will try time, in defpight of a fall.-But turning thefe jefts out of fervice, let us talk in good earnest: Is it poffible on fuch a fudden you fhould fall into fo ftrong a liking with old Sir Rowland's youngest fon?

Ref.