Imatges de pàgina

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

[Shout. Duke. No more, no more. [Charles is thrown

Orla. Yes, I beseech your Grace. I am not yet well breathed.

Luke. 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 Rowland de Boys. Duke. I would, thou hadst been fon to some man

else! The world esteem'd thy Father honourable, · But I did find him still mine enemy : Thou shouldst have better pleas'd me with this deed, Hadst thou defcended from another House. But fare thee well, thou art a gallant youth; I would thou hadít told me of another father.

(Exit Duke, with his train.


Manent Celia, Rosalind, Orlando.

Cel. Were I my father, coz, would I do this?

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

Rof. 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,
I should have giv’n him tears unto entreaties,
Ere he should thus have ventur'd.

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 deservd :

If you do keep your promises in love,
But justly as you have exceeded all promise,
Your mistress shall be happy.

Rof. Gentleman,
Wear this for me; one out of suits with fortune 8,
That could give more, but that her hand lacks means.
-Shall we go, coz? [Giving him a Chain from her Neck.

Cel. Ay-Fare you well, fair gentleman.
Orla. Can I not say, I thank you?-my better

Are all thrown down; and that, which here stands up,
Is but a quintaine”, a meer lifeless block.
Rof. He calls us back-my pride fell with my for:

I'll ask him what he would.- Did you call, Sir ?
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 passion hangs these weights upon iny

tongue ? I cannot speak to her; yet she urg'd conference:


one out of suits with for- me, not suffering me to hope that tane,] This seems an allufion to love will ever make a serious matcards, where he chat bàs no more ter of it. The famous satirist cards' to play of any particular Regnier, who lived about the fort is out of fuit.

time of our author, uses the same I but a quintaine, a meer metaphor, on the same subject, lifeless black.) A Quintaine was tho' the thought be different. a Poft or Butt set for several kinds of martial exercises, against Et qui depuis dix ans, jusqu'en which they threw their darts and ses derniers jours, exercised their arms. The allusion A foutenu le prix en l'escrime d" is beautiful, I am, fays Orlando, only a quintaine, a lifeless block Laje en fin de servir au peuple ex wbich love only exercises his de QUINTAINE, arms in jeft; the great difparity

Elle &c. of condition between Rosalind and



amours ;

Enter Le Beu.

O poor Orlando! thou art overthrown;
Or Charles, or something weaker, masters thee.

Le Beu. Good Sir, I do in friendship counsel you
To leave this place. Albeit you have deserv'd
High commendation, true applause, and love;
Yet such is now the Duke's condition,
That he misconstrues 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 was at the wrestling ? Le Beu. Neither his daughter, if we judge by man

ners; But yet, indeed, the shorter is his daughter. The other's 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 fifters. 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, And pity her for her good father's fake; And, on my life, his malice 'gainst the lady Will suddenly break forth. --Sir, fare ye well; Hereafter, in a better world than this, I shall defire more love and knowledge of you. [Exit

. Orla. I rest much bounden to you : fare ye well! Thus must I from the smoke into the smother; From tyrant Duke unto à tyrant Brother : But, heav'nly Rosalind !-


i the Duke's condition,] Antonio, the Merchant of Venice, The word condition means cha- is called by his friend the best racter, temper, difpofition. So conditioned man.


Changes to an Apartment in the Palace.

Re-enter Celia and Rosalind.


Cel. HY, 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 Cousins laid up; when the one should be lam'd with Reasons, and the other mad without any.

Cel. But is all this for your father?

Rof. No, some of it is for my father's child”. Oh, how full of briars is this working-day world!

Cel. They are but burs, cousin, thrown upon thee in holiday foolery; if we walk not in the trodden paths, our very peçicoats will catch them.

Ref. I could shake them off my coat; these burs are in my heart

Cel. Hem them away. Rof. I would try, if I could cry, hem, and have him. Cel. Come, come, wrestle with thy affections. Ro? O, they take the part of a better Wrestler than myself.

Cel. O, a good wish upon you! you will try in time, in despight of a Fall. ---But turning these jests out of service, let us talk in good earnest. Is it pos£ble on such a sudden you should fall into so strong a liking with old Sir Rowland's youngest son ? Rof. The Duke niy father lov'd his father dearly,

for my father's child.] The by Mr. Theobald, for my future old Editions have it, for my child's husband. faiber, that is, as it is explained


C 3

Cel. Doth it therefore ensue, that you should love his son dearly? by this kind of chase }, I should hate him; for


father hated his father dearly ; yet I hate not Orlando.

Ref. No, faith, hate him not, for my fake.
Cel. Why should I? doch he not deserve well ?


Enter Duke, with Lords,


Rof. Let me love him for that; and do you love him, because I do. Look, here comes the Duke.

Cel. With his eyes full of anger.

Duke. Mistress, dispatch you with your fafest haste, And get you froin our Court.

Ros. Me, Uncle!

Dukė. You, Cousin.
Within these ten days if that thou be'st found
So near our publick Court as twenty miles,
Thou diest for it.

Rof. I do beseech your Grace,
Let me the knowledge of my fault bear with me:
If with myself I hold intelligence,
Or have acquaintance with my own desires;
If that I do not dream, or be not frantick,
As I do trust, I am not, then, dear Uncle,
Never so much as in a thought unborn
Did I offend your Highness

Duke. Thus do all traitors;
If their purgation did consist in words,
They are as innocent as grace itself.
Let it suffice thee, that I trust thee not.


by this kind of chese,] rised, and both drawn from etyThat is, by this way of follow.. mology, but properly beloved'is ing the argument. Dear is used dour, and hateful is dere. Roby Shakespeare in a double senfe, falind uses dearly in the good, and for beloved, and for hurtful, hated, Celia in the bad sense. baleful. Both lentes are autho


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