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SCENE VII.

Manent Celia, Rosalind, Orlando, Cel. WER TERE I my father, coz, would I do this? Orla. I

am more proud to be Sir Row

land's son, His youngest son, 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 deserv'd: If you do keep your promises in love, But juftly as you have exceeded all in promise, Your mistress shall be happy.

Rof. Gentleman,
Wear this for me; one out of suits with fortune,
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?

parts
Are all thrown down; and that, which here stands

up, * Is but a quintaine; a mere lifeless block. Rof. He calls us back: my pride fell with my for

tunes. * Is but a quintaine, a mere li feless block.) A Quintaine was a Post or Bute set up for several kinds of martial Exercises, against which they threw their Darts and exercised their Arms. The Allufion is beautiful. I am, says Orlando, only a quintaine, a lifeless Block on which Love only Exercises his Arins in Jeft ; the great Disparity of Condition between Rosalind and me, not suffering me to hope that Love will ever make a serious Matter of it. B6

I'll

my better

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

[Exeunt Rös. and Cel. Orla. What passion hangs these weights upon my

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

you: fare

you well.

Enter Le Beu.
O 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 deserv'd
High commendation, true applause, and love;
Yet such is now the Duke's condition,
That he misconstrues all that

you
have

onę.
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-

mers;
But yet, indeed, the shorter is his daughter;
The other's daughter to the banilh'd Duke,
And here detain'd by her ufurping Uncle
To keep his daughter company; whose loves
Are dearer than the natural bond of Gifters.
But I can tell

you,

that of late this Duke
Hath ta'en displeasure 'gainst his gentle Neice;
Grounded upon no other argument,
But that the people praise her for her virtues,
And pity her for her good father's sake;
And, on my life, his malice 'gainst the lady
Will suddenly break forth. Sir, fair you well;

Here.

WH

Hereafter, in a better world than this,
I shall desire more love and knowledge of you. [Exit.
Orla. I rest 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. S CE N E VIII. Changes to an Apartment in the Palace.

Re-enter Celia and Rosalind. Cel. HY, Cousin; why, Rosalind; Cupid

have

mercy; not a word ! Ros. 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 ?

Ros. 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, coufin, thrown upon thee in holiday foolery; if we walk not in the trodden paths, our very petticoats will catch them. Rof. I could shake them off my coat; these burs my

heart. Cel. Hem them

away: Ros. I would try, if I could cry, hem, and have him.

Cel. Come, come, wrestle with thy affections.

Rof. O, they take the part of a better Wrestler than myself. Cel. O, a good wish upon you 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 poffible on such a sudden you should fall into so strong a liking with old Sir Rowland's youngest son ?

Rof.

are in

IX.

Rof.

full of anger.

Rof. The Duke my father lov'd his father dearly.

Cel. Doth it therefore ensue, that you should love his son dearly? by this kind of chale, I should haie him; for my father hated his father dearly; yet I hate not Orlando. Rof. No, faith, hate him not, for my.

fake. Cel. Why should I ? doth he not deserve well?

SCENE

Enter Duke, with Lords.
ET me love him for that; and do
L

love

you him, because I do. Look, here comes the

Duke. Cel. With his

eyes Duke. Mistress, dispatch you with your safest haste, And get you from our Court.

Rof. Me Uncle !

Duke, You, Cousin.
Within these ten days if that thou be'st found
So near our public Court as twenty miles,
Thou dieft 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 frantic,
(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 fuffice thee, that I trust thee not.
Ros. Yet

your miftrust cannot make me a traitor; Tell me wherein the likelihood depends.

Duke. Thou art thy father's daughter, there's enough. Rof. So was I, when your Highness took his Dukedom;

So

So was I, when your Highness banish'd him;
Treason is not inherited, my lord;
Or if we did derive it from our friends,
What's that to me? my father was no traitor:
Then, good my liege, mistake me not so much,
To think my poverty is treacherous.

Cel. Dear Sovereign, hear me speak.

Duke. Ay, Celia, we but staid her for your fake; Else had she with her father rang'd along.

Cel. I did not then entreat to have her stay; It was your pleasure, and your own remorse; I was too young that time to value her; But now I know her; if she be a traitor, Why so am I; we ftill have slept together, Rose at an instant, learn'd, play d, eat together; And wheresoe'er we went, like funo's Swans, Still we went coupled, and inseparable. [ness,

Duke. She is too subtle for thee; and her smooth-
Her very filence and her patience,
Speak to the people, and they pity her:
Thou art a fool ; she robs thee of thy name,
And thou wilt show more bright, and shine more

virtuous,
When she is gone; then open not thy lips :
Firm and irrevocable is my doom,
Which I have paft upon her;. she is banish'd.

Cel. Pronounce that sentence then on me, my Liege; I cannot live out of her company.

Duke. You are a fool: you, Neice, provide yourself; If you out-stay the time, upon mine Honour, And in the Greatness of

my word, you

die.

Exeunt Duke, &c.
S CE N E X.
O

My poor Rosalind; where wilt thou go?
Wilt thou change fathers ! I will give thee

`mine: I charge thee, be not thou more griev'd than I am.

ROS.

Cel.

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