Imatges de pÓgina

Cel. 'Tis true; for those, that she makes fair, the fcarce makes honest; and those, that she makes honelt, she makes very ill-favoured.

Rof. 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, a Clown.' Cel. No! when nature hath made a fair creature, may she not by fortune fall into the fire ? tho' nature hath given us wit to flout at fortune, hath not fortune sent in this Fool to cut off this argument?

Ref. Indeed, there is fortune 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, perceiving our natural wits too dull to reason of such Goddesses, hath sent this Natural for our whetstone: for always the dulness of the fool is the whetstone of the wits. How now, Wit, whither wander you

? Clo. Mistress, you must come away to your father. Cel. Were you made the messenger ?

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

Ref. Where learned you that oath, fool?

Clo. 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 wisdom.

Clo. 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.

Clo. By my knavery, if I had it, then I were; but : if you swear by That that is not, you are not for{worn; no more was this Knight swearing by his ho



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nour, for he never had any; or if he had, he had
fworn it away, before ever he saw. those pancakes or
that mustard.

Cel. Pr’ythee, who is that thou mean'st ?
Clo. (1) One, that old Frederick your father loves.

Cel. My father's love is enough to honour him enough; speak no more of him, you'll be whipt for taxation one of these days.

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

Cel. By my troth, thou say'st true ; for since the little wit that fools have was filenc'd, the little foolery that wise men have makes a great Show: here comes Monsieur Le Beu.

Enter Le Beu. Rof. With his mouth full of news.

Cél. Which he will put on us, as pidgeons feed their young.

Rof. Then shall we be news-cram'd.

Cél. All the better, we shall be the more marketable. Bon jour, Monfieur le Beu; what news?

Le Beu. Fair Princess, you have loft much good

Gel. Sport; of what colour ?
Le Beu. What colour, Madam? how shall I answer

you ?

Rof. As wit and fortune will.
Cl.. Or as the deftinies decree.
Cel. Well said; that was laid on with a trowel.
(1) Clo. One, that old Frederick your father loves.

Ros. My Father's Love is enough to honour him enough; ] This Reply to the Clown is in all the Books plac'd to Rosalind; but Frederick was not her Father, but Celia's: I have therefore ventur'd to prefix the Name of Celia. There is no Countenance from any Passage in the Play, or from the Dramatis Persone, to imagine, that. Both the Brother-Dukes were Namesakes; and One call'd the Old, and the Other the Younger Fredericks and, without some such Authority, it would make Confusion to suppose it.


Clo. Nay, if I keep not my rank,
Ros. Thou losest thy old smell.

Le Beu. You amaze me, ladies; I would have told you of good wrestling, which you have lost the fight of.

Ros. Yet tell us the manner of the wrestling:

Beu. 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 per form it.

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

Le Beu. There comes an old man and his three fons,

Cel. I could match this beginning with an old tale.

Le Beu. Three proper young men, of excellent growth and presence;

Rof. With bills on their necks: Be it known unto all men by these prefents,

Le Beu. 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 serv'd the Second, and so the Third: yonder 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!

Clo. But what is the Sport, Monsieur, that the ladies have lost?

Le Beu. Why this, that I speak of.

Clo. Thus men may grow wiser every day! It is the first time that ever I heard breaking of ribs was sport for ladies.

Cel. Or I, I promise thee.
Rof. But (2), is there any else longs to set this broken


(2) Is there any else longs to see this broken Mufick in his Sides ? ] This seems a stupid Error in the Copies. They are talking here of Some who had their Ribs broke in Wrestling : and the Pleasantry of Rosalind's Repartee must consist in the Allufion She makes to composing in Mufick. It necessarily fol.



musick in his fides ? is there yet another. doats upon rib-breaking ? fhall we see this wrestling, Cousin ?

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

Cel. Yonder, sure, they are coming ; let us now stay and see it. Flourish. Enter Duke Frederick, Lords, Orlando,

Charles, and Attendants. Dåke. Come on, since the Youth will not be entreated ; his own peril on his forwardness.

Rof. Is yonder the man ? Le Beu. Even he, Madam. Cel. Alas, he is too young; yet he looks fuccessfully.

Duke. How now, Daughter and Coufin; are you erept hither to see the wrestling?

Rol: Ay, my liege, so pleale you give us leave.

Duke. You will take little delight in it, I can tell you, there is such odds in the man : in pity of the challenger's youth, I would feign diffuade him, but he will not be entreated.' Speak to him, ladies, see if you can move him.

Cel. Call him hither, good Monsieur Le Beu.
Duke. Do so ; I'll not be by. [Duke goes apart.

Le Beu. Monsieur the Challenger, the Princesses call for

Orla. I attend them with all respect and duty.

Rof. Young man, have you challeng’d Charles the wrestler?

Orla. No, fair Princess; he is the general challenger: I come but in, as others do, to try with him the ftrength 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 your self with your own eyes, or knew your self with your judgment, the fear of your adventure would counsel you to a more equal enterprise. We pray you, for your own fake, to embrace your own safety, and give over this attempt.

lows therefore, that the Poet wrote in his Sides.

- set this broken Musick Mi, Warburton,


Rof. Do, young Sir; your reputation Mall not therefore be misprised;

we will make it our suit to the Duke, that the wrestling might not go forward.

Orla. I beseech you, punish me not with your hard thoughts, wherein I confess 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 tryal, wherein if I be foil'd, there is but one sham'd that was never gracious ; if kill'd, but one dead that is willing to be fo: 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 I have, I would it were

with you.

Cel. And mine to eek out hers.

Rof. Fare you well ; pray heav'n, I be deceiv'd in , you.

Orla. Your heart's desires be with you!

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

Orla. Ready, Sir ; but his Will hath in it a more : modest working

Duke. 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.

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

Rof. Now Hercules be thy speed, young man !

Cél. I would I were invisible, to catch the strong fellow by the leg!

[they wrestle. Ros. O excellent young man!

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

hout, Duke.

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