SCENE II
Lawn before the DUKE's palace.Enter CELIA and ROSALIND.
Cel.
I pray thee, Rosalind, sweet my coz,
be merry.
Ros.
Dear Celia, I show more mirth than
I am mistress of; and would you yet I were
merrier? Unless you could teach me to forget
a banished father, you must not learn me
how to remember any extraordinary pleasure.
Cel.
Herein I see thou lovest me not with
the full weight that I love thee. If my uncle,
thy banished father, had banished thy uncle,
the duke my father, so thou hadst been still
with me, I could have taught my love to take
thy father for mine: so wouldst thou, if the
truth of thy love to me were so righteously
tempered as mine is to thee.
Ros.
Well, I will forget the condition of
my estate, to rejoice in yours.
Cel.
You know my father hath no child
but I, nor none is like to have: and, truly,
when he dies, thou shalt be his heir, for what
he hath taken away from thy father perforce,
I will render thee again in affection; by mine
honor, I will; and when I break that
oath, let me turn monster: therefore, my sweet
Rose, my dear Rose, be merry.
Ros.
From henceforth I will, coz, and devise
sports. Let me see; what think you of
falling in love?
Cel.
Marry, I prithee, do, to make sport
withal: but love no man in good earnest; nor
no further in sport neither than with safety
of a pure blush thou mayst in honor come off
again.
Ros.
What shall be our sport, then?
Cel.
Let us sit and mock the good housewife
Fortune from her wheel, that her gifts
may henceforth be bestowed equally.
Ros.
I would we could do so, for her benefits
are mightily misplaced, and the bountiful
blind woman doth most mistake in her gifts to
women.
Cel.
'Tis true; for those that she makes
fair she scarce makes honest, and those that
she makes honest she makes very ill-favoredly.
Ros.
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.
Cel.
No? when Nature hath made a fair
creature, may she not by Fortune fall into the
fire? That Nature hath given us wit to flout
at Fortune, hath not Fortune sent in this fool (50)
to cut off the argument?
Ros.
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 perceiveth
our natural wits too dull to reason of such
goddesses and 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? (61)
Touch.
Mistress, you must come away to your father.
Cel.
Were you made the messenger?
Touch.
No, by mine honor, but I was bid
to come for you.
Ros.
Where learned you that oath, fool?
Touch.
Of a certain knight that swore by
his honor they were good pancakes and swore
by his honor the mustard was naught: now
I'll stand to it, the pancakes were naught and
the mustard was good, and yet was not the (71)
knight forsworn.
Cel.
How prove you that, in the great heap
of your knowledge?
Ros.
Ay, marry, now unmuzzle your wisdom.
Touch.
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.
Touch.
By my knavery, if I had it, then
I were; but if you swear by that that is not,
you are not forsworn: no more was this
knight, swearing by his honor, for he never
had any; or if he had, he had sworn it away
before ever he saw those pancakes or that
mustard.
Cel.
Prithee, who is't that thou meanest?
Touch.
One that old Frederick, your father,
loves.
Cel.
My father's love is enough to honor
him: enough! speak no more of him; you'll (91)
be whipped for taxation one of these days.
Touch.
The more pity, that fools may not
speak wisely what wise men do foolishly.
Cel.
By my troth, thou sayest true; for
since the little wit that fools have was silenced,
the little foolery that wise men have makes a
great show. Here comes Monsieur Le Beau.
Ros.
With his mouth full of news.
Cel.
Which he will put on us, as pigeons (100)
feed their young.
Ros.
Then shall we be news-crammed.
Cel.
All the better; we shall be the more
marketable. Enter LE BEAU.
Bon jour, Monsieur Le Beau: what's the news?
Le Beau.
Fair princess, you have lost much
good sport.
Cel.
Sport! of what color?
Le Beau.
What color, madam! how shall
I answer you? (110)
Ros.
As wit and fortune will.
Touch.
Or as the Destinies decree.
Cel.
Well said: that was laid on with a
trowel.
Touch.
Nay, if I keep not my rank,--
Ros.
Thou losest thy old smell.
Le Beau.
You amaze me, ladies: I would
have told you of good wrestling, which you
have lost the sight of.
Ros.
Yet tell us the manner of the wrestling.
Le Beau.
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 perform it.
Cel.
Well, the beginning, that is dead and buried.
Le Beau.
There comes an old man and his
three sons,--
Cel.
I could match this beginning with an
old tale.
Le Beau.
Three proper young men, of excellent (130)
growth and presence.
Ros.
With bills on their necks, 'Be it
known unto all men by these presents.'
Le Beau.
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 served the second, and so
the third. Yonder they lie; the poor old man,
their father, making such pitiful dole over (140)
them that all the beholders take his part with weeping.
Ros.
Alas!
Touch.
But what is the sport, monsieur,
that the ladies have lost?
Le Beau.
Why, this that I speak of.
Touch.
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.
Ros.
But is there any else longs to see this
broken music in his sides? is there yet another
dotes upon rib-breaking? Shall we see
this wrestling, cousin?
Le Beau.
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.
Duke F.
Come on: since the youth will
not be entreated, his own peril on his forwardness. (160)
Ros.
Is yonder the man?
Le Beau.
Even he, madam.
Cel.
Alas, he is too young! yet he looks
successfully.
Duke F.
How now, daughter and cousin!
are you crept hither to see the wrestling ?
Ros.
Ay, my liege, so please you give us
leave.
Duke F.
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 fain dissuade
him, but he will not be entreated. Speak
to him, ladies; see if you can move him.
Cel.
Call him hither, good Monsieur Le Beau.
Duke F.
Do so: I 'll not be by.
Le Beau.
Monsieur the challenger, the princesses
call for you.
Orl.
I attend them with all respect and duty.
Ros.
Young man, have you challenged (179)
Charles the wrestler?
Orl.
No, fair princess; he is the general
challenger: I come but in, as others do, to try
with him the strength 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 yourself
with your eyes or knew yourself with your
judgement, the fear of your adventure would
counsel you to a more equal enterprise. We
pray you, for your own sake, to embrace your (190)
own safety and give over this attempt.
Ros.
Do, young sir; your reputation shall
not therefore be misprised: we will make it
our suit to the duke that the wrestling might
not go forward.
Orl.
I beseech you, punish me not with
your hard thoughts; wherein I confess me
much guilty, to deny so fair and excellent
ladies any thing. But let your fair eyes and
gentle wishes go with me to my trial: wherein
if I be foiled, there is but one shamed that was
never gracious; if killed, but one dead that
was willing to be so: 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 eke out hers.
Ros.
Fare you well: pray heaven I be deceived (210)
in you!
Cel.
Your heart's desires be with you!
Cha.
Come, where is this young gallant
that is so desirous to lie with his mother earth?
Orl.
Ready, sir; but his will hath in it a
more modest working.
Duke F.
You shall try but one fall.
Cha.
No, I warrant your grace, you shall
not entreat him to a second, that have so (219)
mightily persuaded him from a first.
Orl.
An you mean to mock me after, you
should not have mocked me before: but come
your ways.
Ros.
Now Hercules be thy speed, young man!
Cel.
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. [Shout. Charles is thrown.
Duke F.
No more, no more. (230)
Orl.
Yes, I beseech your grace: I am not yet well breathed.
Duke F.
How dost thou, Charles?
Le Beau.
He cannot speak, my lord.
Duke F.
Bear him away. What is thy name, young man?
Orl.
Orlando, my liege; the youngest son
of Sir Rowland de Boys.
Duke F.
I would thou hadst been son to some man else:
The world esteem'd thy father honorable,
But I did find him still mine enemy:
Thou shouldst have better pleased me with this deed,
Hadst thou descended from another house.
But fare thee well; thou art a gallant youth:
I would thou hadst told me of another father. [Exeunt Duke Fred., train, and Le Beau.
Cel.
Were I my father, coz, would I do this?
Orl.
I am more proud to be Sir Rowland's son,
His youngest son; and would not change that calling,
To be adopted heir to Frederick.
Ros.
My father loved 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 given him tears unto entreaties,
Ere he should thus have ventured.
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 deserved:
If you do keep your promises in love
But justly, as you have exceeded all promise,
Your mistress shall be happy.
Ros.
Gentleman, [Giving him a chain from her neck.
Wear this for me, one out of suits with fortune,
That could give more, but that her hand lacks means.
Shall we go, coz?
Cel.
Ay. Fare you well, fair gentleman. (261)
Orl.
Can I not say, I thank you? My better parts
Are all thrown down, and that which here stands up
Is but a quintain, a mere lifeless block.
Ros.
He calls us back: my pride fell with my fortunes;
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?
Ros.
Have with you. Fare you well. [Exeunt Rosalind and Celia.
Orl.
What passion hangs these weights upon my tongue?
I cannot speak to her, yet she urged conference. (271)
O poor Orlando, thou art overthrown!
Or Charles or something weaker masters thee. Re-enter LE BEAU.
Le Beau.
Good sir, I do in friendship counsel you
To leave this place. Albeit you have deserved
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 I to speak of. (280)
Orl.
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 Beau.
Neither his daughter, if we judge by manners;
But yet indeed the lesser is his daughter:
The other is 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 sisters.
But I can tell you that of late this duke
Hath ta'en displeasure 'gainst his gentle niece, (291)
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, fare you well:
Hereafter, in a better world than this,
I shall desire more love and knowledge of you.
Orl.
I rest much bounden to you: fare you well. [Exit Le Beau.
Thus must I from the smoke into the smother; (300)
From tyrant duke unto a tyrant brother:
But heavenly Rosalind! [Exit.
