Do 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 supply'd when I have made it empty

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

Cel. And mine to eek out hers.
Rof. Fare

you
well;
; pray heav'n I be deceiva in

you. Orla, Your heart's desires be with you!

Cha. Come, where is this young gallant, that is so desirous to lye with his mother earth?.

Orla. Ready, Sir ; but his will hath in it a more modeft working

Duke. You shall try but one fall.

Cha. No, I warrant your Grace you shall not entreat him to a second, that have fo mightily persuaded him from a first.

Orla. You mean to mock me after ; you should not have mockt before ; but come your ways. Ros

. Now Hercules be thy speed, young man! Cel. I would I were invisible, to catch the frong fellow by the leg!

[Tbry wreft. Ros. O excellent young man!

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

[Sbout. 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 ?
Le Beu. He cannot speak, my Lord,
Duke. Bear him away. What is thy name, young man?.

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

Duke. I would thou hadft been fon to some man elfe;
The world esteem'd thy father honourable,
But I did find him ftill mine enemy :
Thou shouldI have better pleas'd me with this deed,
Hadit thou descended from another house.
But fare thee well, thou art a gallant youth,
I would thou had& told me of another father.

[Exis Duke wird his Train.

$ CENE

e

SCENE VII.
Cel. Were I my father, coz, would I do this?
Orla. I am moft proud to be Sir Rowland's son,
His youngest son, and would not change that calling,
To be adopted beir to Frederick.

Rg. My father lov’d Sir Rowland as his soul,
And all the world was of my father's mind;
Had I before known this young man his son,
Thould have giv'n him tears unto entreaties,
Ere he should thus have ventur'd.

Cel. Gentle confin,
Let us go thank him, and encourage him;
My fáther’s rough and envious disposition
Socks at my heart. Sir, you have well desery'd 3
If you do keep your promifes in love
But juftly, as you've here exceeded promise,
Your mistress shall be happy.

Rof. Gentleman,
Wear this for me, one out of suits with fortune,
That would give more, but that her hand lacks means.
Shall we go, toz? [Giving bim a cbain from ber neck,

Cel. 'Ay; fare you well, fair gentleman.

Orla. Can I not say, I thank you? my better parts
Are all thrown down, and that which here stands up
If but a quintain, a meer lifeless block.

Rof. He calls us back! my pride fell with my fortunes.
I aik him what he would.“ Did you call, Sir?
Sir, you have wrestled well, and overthrown
More than your enemies.

Cel. wal you go, coz?
Rof. Have with you': fare you well. [Exe. Rof, and Cel.
Orla. What paffion hangs these weights apop my tongue

? I cannot speak to her ; yet she urgʻd conference.

Enter Le Beu.
poor

Orlando ! thou art overthrown;
Or Charles, or something weaker, mafters thee.

Le Beu. Good Sir, I do in friendship counsel you
To leave this place : albeit you have doserv'd
High commendation, true applause, and love;
Yet fúch is now the Duke's

BLE.
are one omert me; the world so

we msgs only in the wald I fill e ma z te upoly'd when I have

time but I have, I wukit were wide

28 de setea se freag felloir

(Tag sprefta. numerous a mix sye, I can tell who

[Sbaar.

(Carles is ihossen. sau Guez; i = 26 yet well

If

SCENE VII.
kl. Were I my father, coz, would I do this?
Orls. I am mok proud to be Si Rosiaad's son,
His youngest son, and would not change that calling
To be adopted beir to Frederici.

Rof. My father lov'd Sir Rowland as his fort,
And all the world was of my father's mind:
Had I before known this young man bis fing
I should have git's him tears mato entreaties,
Ere be fould thus have rentar'd.

Cl. Gencie cefin,
Let us go thank him, and encourage him;
My father's rough and envious disposition
Sticks at my heart. Sár, you have well desera'd;

you do keep your promises in love
But jaftly, as you've bere exceeded procite,
Your miftress fhall be beppy.

Rof. Gentleman,
Wear this for me, one out of faits with fortuse,
That would give more, but that her bead boks means.
Shall we go, coz?

(Giving bin a coair froe ber mest, 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 Bands sp
I but a quintain, a meer lifeless block.

Ref. He calls as back: my pride fell with my fortides.
I'll ask him what he would.' Did you call, Sä?
Sir, you have wreftled well, and overthrowa
More than

enemies. Cel. Wií you go, coz? Rof. Have with you; fare you well. (Exz, Rol. sad Cd. Orla. What paffion hangs these weights upoe my tongue? I cannot speak to ber; yet the org conference.

Enter Le Beu. poor Orlando! thou art overthrown; of Charles, or something weaker, matters thee.

Le Beu. Good Sir, I do in friendship counsel yos To leave this place : albeit you have deferr's High commendation, true applause, and love;

your

Yet lúchas noy

That he misconftrues all that

you

have done.
The Duke is humorous'; what he is indeed
More suits you to conceive, than me to speak of.

Orla. I thank you, Sir ; and pray you, tell me this;
Which of the two was daughter of the Duke,
That here were at the wrestling?

Le Beu. Neither his daughter, if we judge by manners ;
But yet indeed the shorter is his daughter ;,
The other's daughter to the banishid Duke,
And here detaind 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 neices,
Grounded upon no other argument,
But that the people praise her for her virtues,
And pity her for her good father's fake ;
And on my life, his malice 'gainst the lady
Will suddenly break forth. Sir, fare you well ;
Hereafter in a better world than this
I shall defire more love and knowledge of you. [Exit,

Orla. I reft much bounden to you: fare you well?
Thus muft I from the smoke into the smother;
From tyrant Duke unto a tyrant brother :
But, heav’nly Rosalind !

[Exit, SCENE VIII. Re-enter Celia and Rosalind.

Cel. Why, cousin, why, Rosalind; Cupid have mercy, not a word!

Ref. Not one to throw at a dog.

Cel. 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 cousíns laid

upy

when the one should be lam’d with reasons, and the other mad with

out any

Cel. But is all this for your father ?
Ref. No, fome of it is for my father's child. Oh, how
full of briers is this working-day-world !
Cel. They are but burs, cousin, thrown upon thee in ho-