Celia.
Cel.
I pray thee, Rosalind, sweet my coz, be merry.
Ros.
Dear Celia, I show more mirth than I am mistress
of; and would you yet I were note merrier? Unless you
could teach me to forget a banished father, you must not
learn me how to remember any extraordinary pleasure.
Cel.
Herein I see thou lovest 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 note, 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
perforce, 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?
-- 381 --
Cel.
Marry, I prithee, do, to make sport withal: but
love no man in good earnest; nor no further in sport
neither, than with safety of a pure blush thou mayst 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 note.
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.
Enter Touchstone.
Cel.
No? note when Nature hath made a fair creature, may
she not by Fortune fall into the fire? Though Nature hath
given us wit to flout at Fortune, hath not Fortune sent in
this fool to cut off the note argument?
Ros.
Indeed, there is Fortune note too hard for Nature,
when Fortune makes Nature's natural the cutter-off of
Nature's wit.
Cel.
Peradventure this is not Fortune's work neither,
but Nature's; who perceiveth note our natural wits too dull to
reason of such goddesses, and hath note sent this natural for our
whetstone; for always the dulness of the fool is the whetstone
of the wits note. How now, wit note! whither note wander you?
Touch.
Mistress, you must come away to your father.
-- 382 --
Cel.
Were you 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 note 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 away before ever he
saw those pancakes or that mustard.
Cel.
Prithee, who is't that note thou meanest?
Touch.
One that old Frederick note note, your father, loves.
Cel. note
My father's love is enough to honour him: enough! note
speak no more of him; you'll be whipped for taxation one
of these days.
Touch.
The more pity, that fools may not speak wisely
what wise men note do foolishly.
Cel.
By my troth, thou sayest true; for since the little
wit that fools have was silenced, the little foolery that wise
men have makes a great show. Here comes Monsieur
Le Beau note.
note
Ros.
With his mouth full of news.
-- 383 --
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 note.
Bon note jour, Monsieur Le Beau: what's the note news?
Le Beau.
Fair princess, you have lost much good note sport.
Cel.
Sport! note of what colour?
Le Beau.
What colour, madam! how shall I answer you?
Ros.
As wit and fortune will.
Touch.
Or as the Destinies decrees note.
Cel.
Well said: that was laid on with a trowel.
Touch.
Nay, if I keep not my rank,—
Ros.
Thou losest thy old smell.
Le Beau.
You amaze me, ladies: I would have told
you of good wrestling, which you have lost the sight of.
Ros.
Yet tell us the manner of the wrestling.
Le Beau.
I will tell you the beginning; 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.
Well, the beginning, that is dead and buried.
Le Beau.
There comes an old man and his three sons,—
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. note’
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
-- 384 --
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.
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 note of ribs was sport for
ladies.
Cel.
Or I, I promise thee.
Ros.
But is there any else longs to see note this broken music
in his sides? is there yet another dotes upon rib-breaking?
Shall we see this wrestling, cousin? note
Le Beau.
You must, if you stay here; for here is the
place appointed for the note wrestling, and they are ready to
perform it.
Cel.
Yonder, sure, they are coming: let us now stay
and see it.
noteFlourish. Enter Duke Frederick note, Lords, Orlando, Charles, and Attendants.
Duke F.
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 F.
How now, daughter and cousin! are you
crept hither to see the wrestling?
Ros.
Ay, my liege, so please you give us leave.
Duke F.
You will take little delight in it, I can tell you,
there is such odds in note the man note. 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.
-- 385 --
Cel. note
Call him hither, good Monsieur Le Beau.
Duke F.
Do so: I'll not be by.
Le Beau.
Monsieur the challenger, the princess calls note for
you.
Orl.
I attend them note with all respect and duty.
Ros.
Young man, have you challenged Charles the
wrestler?
Orl.
No, fair princess; he is the general challenger: I
come but in note, 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
judgement, note 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 note I confess me much guilty, note, to deny so
fair and excellent ladies any thing. But let your fair eyes
and gentle wishes go with me to my trial: wherein if I be
foiled, there is but one shamed that was never 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 note I have, I would it were
with you.
-- 386 --
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!
Cha.
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 note a more modest
working.
Duke F.
You shall try but one fall.
Cha.
No, I warrant your Grace, you shall not entreat
him to a second, that have so mightily persuaded him from
a first.
Orl.
You note mean to mock me after; you should not have
mocked me note before: but come your ways.
Ros.
Now Hercules be thy speed, young man!
Cel.
I would I were invisible, to catch the strong fellow
by the leg.
[They wrestle note.
Ros.
O excellent young man!
Cel.
If I had a thunderbolt in mine eye, I can tell who
should down.
[Shout. Charles is thrown. note
Duke F.
No more, no more.
Orl.
Yes, I beseech your Grace: I am not yet well
breathed.
Duke F.
How dost thou, Charles?
Le Beau.
He cannot speak, my lord.
Duke F.
Bear him away. What is thy name, young man?
Orl.
Orlando, my liege; the youngest son of Sir Rowland
de Boys.
Duke F.
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:
Thou shouldst have better pleased me with this deed,
Hadst thou descended from another house.
But fare thee well; thou art a gallant youth:
-- 387 --
I would thou hadst told me of another father.
[Exeunt note Duke Fred., train, and Le Beau.
note
Cel.
Were I my father, coz, would I do this?
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.
Ros.
My father loved 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 ventured.
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 deserved:
If you do keep your promises in love
But justly, as you have exceeded all note promise note,
Your mistress shall be happy.
Ros.
Gentleman,
[Giving note him a chain from her neck.
Wear this for me, one out of suits with fortune note,
That could note give more, but that her hand lacks means note.
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 quintain, a mere lifeless note block.
Ros.
He calls us back: my pride fell with my fortunes;
I'll ask him what he would. Did you call, sir?
Sir, you have wrestled well and overthrown
More than your enemies.
-- 388 --
Cel.
Will you go, coz?
Ros.
Have with you. Fare you well.
[Exeunt note Rosalind and Celia.
Orl.
What passion hangs these weights upon my tongue?
I cannot speak to her, yet she urged conference.
O poor Orlando, thou art overthrown!
Or Charles or something weaker masters thee.
Re-enter note Le Beau.
Le Beau.
Good sir, I do in friendship counsel you
To leave this place. Albeit you have deserved
High commendation, true applause, and love,
Yet such is now the Duke's condition,
That he misconstrues note all that you have done.
The Duke is humorous: what he is, indeed,
More suits you to conceive than I note 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 note at the wrestling?
Le Beau.
Neither his daughter, if we judge by manners;
But yet, indeed, the taller note is his daughter:
The other is note 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 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 note,
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,
-- 389 --
I shall desire more love and knowledge of you.
Orl.
I rest much bounden to you: fare you well.
[Exit note Le Beau.
Thus must I from the smoke into the smother;
From tyrant Duke unto a tyrant brother:
But heavenly Rosalind!
[Exit.
note
William Aldis Wright [1863–1866], The works of William Shakespeare edited by William George Clark... and John Glover [and William Aldis Wright] (Macmillan and Co., London) [word count] [S10701].
