1    I pray thee, Rosalind, sweet my coz, be merry.

2    Dear Celia, I show more mirth than I am mistress of;
3    and would you yet I were merrier? Unless you could
4    teach me to forget a banished father, you must not
5    learn me how to remember any extraordinary pleasure.

6    Herein I see thou lovest me not with the full weight
7    that I love thee. If my uncle, thy banished father,
8    had banished thy uncle, the duke my father, so thou
9    hadst been still with me, I could have taught my
10   love to take thy father for mine: so wouldst thou,
11   if the truth of thy love to me were so righteously
12   tempered as mine is to thee.

13   Well, I will forget the condition of my estate, to
14   rejoice in yours.

15   You know my father hath no child but I, nor none is
16   like to have: and, truly, when he dies, thou shalt
17   be his heir, for what he hath taken away from thy
18   father perforce, I will render thee again in
19   affection; by mine honour, I will; and when I break
20   that oath, let me turn monster: therefore, my
21   sweet Rose, my dear Rose, be merry.

22   From henceforth I will, coz, and devise sports. Let
23   me see; what think you of falling in love?

24   Marry, I prithee, do, to make sport withal: but
25   love no man in good earnest; nor no further in sport
26   neither than with safety of a pure blush thou mayst
27   in honour come off again.

28   What shall be our sport, then?

29   Let us sit and mock the good housewife Fortune from
30   her wheel, that her gifts may henceforth be bestowed equally.

31   I would we could do so, for her benefits are
32   mightily misplaced, and the bountiful blind woman
33   doth most mistake in her gifts to women.

34   'Tis true; for those that she makes fair she scarce
35   makes honest, and those that she makes honest she
36   makes very ill-favouredly.

37   Nay, now thou goest from Fortune's office to
38   Nature's: Fortune reigns in gifts of the world,
39   not in the lineaments of Nature.

40   No? when Nature hath made a fair creature, may she
41   not by Fortune fall into the fire? Though Nature
42   hath given us wit to flout at Fortune, hath not
43   Fortune sent in this fool to cut off the argument?

44   Indeed, there is Fortune too hard for Nature, when
45   Fortune makes Nature's natural the cutter-off of
46   Nature's wit.

47   Peradventure this is not Fortune's work neither, but
48   Nature's; who perceiveth our natural wits too dull
49   to reason of such goddesses and hath sent this
50   natural for our whetstone; for always the dulness of
51   the fool is the whetstone of the wits. How now,
52   wit! whither wander you?

53   Mistress, you must come away to your father.

54   Were you made the messenger?

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

56   Where learned you that oath, fool?

57   Of a certain knight that swore by his honour they
58   were good pancakes and swore by his honour the
59   mustard was naught: now I'll stand to it, the
60   pancakes were naught and the mustard was good, and
61   yet was not the knight forsworn.

62   How prove you that, in the great heap of your
63   knowledge?

64   Ay, marry, now unmuzzle your wisdom.

65   Stand you both forth now: stroke your chins, and
66   swear by your beards that I am a knave.

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

68   By my knavery, if I had it, then I were; but if you
69   swear by that that is not, you are not forsworn: no
70   more was this knight swearing by his honour, for he
71   never had any; or if he had, he had sworn it away
72   before ever he saw those pancakes or that mustard.

73   Prithee, who is't that thou meanest?

74   One that old Frederick, your father, loves.

75   My father's love is enough to honour him: enough!
76   speak no more of him; you'll be whipped for taxation
77   one of these days.

78   The more pity, that fools may not speak wisely what
79   wise men do foolishly.

80   By my troth, thou sayest true; for since the little
81   wit that fools have was silenced, the little foolery
82   that wise men have makes a great show. Here comes
83   Monsieur Le Beau.

84   With his mouth full of news.

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

86   Then shall we be news-crammed.

87   All the better; we shall be the more marketable.
Enter LE BEAU
88   Bon jour, Monsieur Le Beau: what's the news?

89   Fair princess, you have lost much good sport.

90   Sport! of what colour?

91   What colour, madam! how shall I answer you?

92   As wit and fortune will.

93   Or as the Destinies decree.

94   Well said: that was laid on with a trowel.

95   Nay, if I keep not my rank,--

96   Thou losest thy old smell.

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

99   You tell us the manner of the wrestling.

100  I will tell you the beginning; and, if it please
101  your ladyships, you may see the end; for the best is
102  yet to do; and here, where you are, they are coming
103  to perform it.

104  Well, the beginning, that is dead and buried.

105  There comes an old man and his three sons,--

106  I could match this beginning with an old tale.

107  Three proper young men, of excellent growth and presence.

108  With bills on their necks, 'Be it known unto all men
109  by these presents.'

110  The eldest of the three wrestled with Charles, the
111  duke's wrestler; which Charles in a moment threw him
112  and broke three of his ribs, that there is little
113  hope of life in him: so he served the second, and
114  so the third. Yonder they lie; the poor old man,
115  their father, making such pitiful dole over them
116  that all the beholders take his part with weeping.

117  Alas!

118  But what is the sport, monsieur, that the ladies
119  have lost?

120  Why, this that I speak of.

121  Thus men may grow wiser every day: it is the first
122  time that ever I heard breaking of ribs was sport
123  for ladies.

124  Or I, I promise thee.

125  But is there any else longs to see this broken music
126  in his sides? is there yet another dotes upon
127  rib-breaking? Shall we see this wrestling, cousin?

128  You must, if you stay here; for here is the place
129  appointed for the wrestling, and they are ready to
130  perform it.

131  Yonder, sure, they are coming: let us now stay and see it.

132  Come on: since the youth will not be entreated, his
133  own peril on his forwardness.

134  Is yonder the man?

135  Even he, madam.

136  Alas, he is too young! yet he looks successfully.

137  How now, daughter and cousin! are you crept hither
138  to see the wrestling?

139  Ay, my liege, so please you give us leave.

140  You will take little delight in it, I can tell you;
141  there is such odds in the man. In pity of the
142  challenger's youth I would fain dissuade him, but he
143  will not be entreated. Speak to him, ladies; see if
144  you can move him.

145  Call him hither, good Monsieur Le Beau.

146  Do so: I'll not be by.

147  Monsieur the challenger, the princesses call for you.

148  I attend them with all respect and duty.

149  Young man, have you challenged Charles the wrestler?

150  No, fair princess; he is the general challenger: I
151  come but in, as others do, to try with him the
152  strength of my youth.

153  Young gentleman, your spirits are too bold for your
154  years. You have seen cruel proof of this man's
155  strength: if you saw yourself with your eyes or
156  knew yourself with your judgment, the fear of your
157  adventure would counsel you to a more equal
158  enterprise. We pray you, for your own sake, to
159  embrace your own safety and give over this attempt.

160  Do, young sir; your reputation shall not therefore
161  be misprised: we will make it our suit to the duke
162  that the wrestling might not go forward.

163  I beseech you, punish me not with your hard
164  thoughts; wherein I confess me much guilty, to deny
165  so fair and excellent ladies any thing. But let
166  your fair eyes and gentle wishes go with me to my
167  trial: wherein if I be foiled, there is but one
168  shamed that was never gracious; if killed, but one
169  dead that was willing to be so: I shall do my
170  friends no wrong, for I have none to lament me, the
171  world no injury, for in it I have nothing; only in
172  the world I fill up a place, which may be better
173  supplied when I have made it empty.

174  The little strength that I have, I would it were with you.

175  And mine, to eke out hers.

176  Fare you well: pray heaven I be deceived in you!

177  Your heart's desires be with you!

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

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

181  You shall try but one fall.

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

185  An you mean to mock me after, you should not have
186  mocked me before: but come your ways.

187  Now Hercules be thy speed, young man!

188  I would I were invisible, to catch the strong
189  fellow by the leg.

190  O excellent young man!

191  If I had a thunderbolt in mine eye, I can tell who
192  should down.

193  No more, no more.

194  Yes, I beseech your grace: I am not yet well breathed.

195  How dost thou, Charles?

196  He cannot speak, my lord.

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

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

199  I would thou hadst been son to some man else:
200  The world esteem'd thy father honourable,
201  But I did find him still mine enemy:
202  Thou shouldst have better pleased me with this deed,
203  Hadst thou descended from another house.
204  But fare thee well; thou art a gallant youth:
205  I would thou hadst told me of another father.

206  Were I my father, coz, would I do this?

207  I am more proud to be Sir Rowland's son,
208  His youngest son; and would not change that calling,
209  To be adopted heir to Frederick.

210  My father loved Sir Rowland as his soul,
211  And all the world was of my father's mind:
212  Had I before known this young man his son,
213  I should have given him tears unto entreaties,
214  Ere he should thus have ventured.

215  Gentle cousin,
216  Let us go thank him and encourage him:
217  My father's rough and envious disposition
218  Sticks me at heart. Sir, you have well deserved:
219  If you do keep your promises in love
220  But justly, as you have exceeded all promise,
221  Your mistress shall be happy.

222  Gentleman,
Giving him a chain from her neck
223  Wear this for me, one out of suits with fortune,
224  That could give more, but that her hand lacks means.
225  Shall we go, coz?

226  Ay. Fare you well, fair gentleman.

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

230  He calls us back: my pride fell with my fortunes;
231  I'll ask him what he would. Did you call, sir?
232  Sir, you have wrestled well and overthrown
233  More than your enemies.

234  Will you go, coz?

235  Have with you. Fare you well.

236  What passion hangs these weights upon my tongue?
237  I cannot speak to her, yet she urged conference.
238  O poor Orlando, thou art overthrown!
239  Or Charles or something weaker masters thee.

240  Good sir, I do in friendship counsel you
241  To leave this place. Albeit you have deserved
242  High commendation, true applause and love,
243  Yet such is now the duke's condition
244  That he misconstrues all that you have done.
245  The duke is humorous; what he is indeed,
246  More suits you to conceive than I to speak of.

247  I thank you, sir: and, pray you, tell me this:
248  Which of the two was daughter of the duke
249  That here was at the wrestling?

250  Neither his daughter, if we judge by manners;
251  But yet indeed the lesser is his daughter
252  The other is daughter to the banish'd duke,
253  And here detain'd by her usurping uncle,
254  To keep his daughter company; whose loves
255  Are dearer than the natural bond of sisters.
256  But I can tell you that of late this duke
257  Hath ta'en displeasure 'gainst his gentle niece,
258  Grounded upon no other argument
259  But that the people praise her for her virtues
260  And pity her for her good father's sake;
261  And, on my life, his malice 'gainst the lady
262  Will suddenly break forth. Sir, fare you well:
263  Hereafter, in a better world than this,
264  I shall desire more love and knowledge of you.

265  I rest much bounden to you: fare you well.
Exit LE BEAU
266  Thus must I from the smoke into the smother;
267  From tyrant duke unto a tyrant brother:
268  But heavenly Rosalind!