DUKE, living in exile. FREDERICE, brother to the Duke, and usurper of his dominions. AMIENS, a lord attending upon the Duke in his banishment. ORLANDO, son of Sir Rowland de Bois. ROSALIND, danghter to the banished duke, CELIA, daughter to Frederick. PHEBE, a shepherdess. AUDREY, a country wench, SCENE. First, near Oliver's House; afterwards, partly in the Usurper's Court, and partly in the Forest of Arden. ACT I. SCENE I.-An Orchard, near Oliver's House. Enter ORLANDO and ADAM. Orl. As I remember, Adam, it was upon this fashion bequeathed me by will, but poor a thousand crowns; and, as thou say'st, charged my brother, on his blessing, to breed me well: and there begins my sadness. My brother Jaques he keeps at school, and report speaks goldenly of his profit: for my part, he keeps me rustically at home, or, to speak more properly, stays me here at home unkept. For call you that keeping for a gentleman of my birth, that differs not from the stalling of an ox? His horses are bred better; for, besides that they are fair with their feeding, they are taught their manage, and to that end riders dearly hired: but I, his brother, gain nothing under him but growth; for the which his animals on his dunghills are as much bound to him as I. Besides this nothing that he so plentifully gives me, the something that nature gave me his coun tenance seems to take from me: he lets me feed with his hinds, bars me the place of a brother, and as much as in him lies, mines my gentility with my education. This is it, Adam, that grieves me; and the spirit of my father, which I think is within me, begins to mutiny against this servitude: I will no longer endure it, though yet I know no wise remedy how to avoid it. Enter OLIVER. Adam. Yonder comes my master, your brother. Orl. Go apart, Adam, and thou shalt hear how he will shake me up. Oli. Now, sir! what make you here? Orl. Marry, sir, I am helping you to mar that which God made, a poor unworthy brother of yours, with idleness. Oli. Marry, sir, be better employed, and be naught awhile. Orl. Shall I keep your hogs, and eat husks with them? What prodigal portion have I spent, that I should come to such penury? Oli. Know you where you are, sir? Orl. Ay, better than him I am before knows me. I know you are my eldest brother; and in' the gentle condition of blood, you should so know me: The courtesy of nations allows you my better, in that you are the first-born; but the same tradition takes not away my blood, were there twenty brothers betwixt us: I have as much of my father in me, as you; albeit, I confess, your coming before me is nearer to his reverence. Oli. What, boy! Orl. Come, come, elder brother, you are too young in this. Oli. Wilt thou lay hands on me, villain! Orl. I am no villain: I am the youngest son of Sir Rowland de Bois; he was my father; and he is thrice a villain that says such a father begot villains. Wert thou not my brother, I would not take this hand from thy throat till this other had pulled out thy tongue for saying so; thou hast railed on thyself. Adam. Sweet masters, be patient; for your father's remembrance, be at accord. Oli. Let me go, say. Orl. I will not, till I please: you shall hear me. My father charged you in his will to give me good education: you have trained me like a peasant, obscuring and hiding from me all gentlemanlike qualities: the spirit of my father grows strong in me, and I will no longer endure it: therefore allow me such exercises as may become a gentleman, or give me the poor allottery my father left me by testament; with that I will go buy my fortunes. Oli. And what wilt thou do? beg, when that is spent? Well, sir, get you in: I will not long be troubled with you: you shall have some part of your will: I pray you, leave me. Orl. I will no further offend you than becomes ine for my good. Oli. Get you with him, you old dog. Adam. Is old dog, my reward? Most true, I have lost my teeth in your service.-God be with my old master! he would not have spoke such a [Exeunt ORLANDO and ADAM. Oli. Is it even so? begin you to grow upon ine I will physic your rankness, and yet give no thousand crowns neither. Holla, Dennis! word. Enter DENNIS. Den. Calls your worship? Oli. Was not Charles, the duke's wrestler, here to speak with me? Den. So please you, he is here at the door, and importunes access to you. Oli. Call him in. [Exit DENNIS.] 'T will be a good way; and to-morrow the wrestling is. Enter CHARLES. Cha. Good morrow to your worship. Oli. Good Monsieur Charles!-what's the new news at the new court? Cha. There's no news at the court, sir, but the old news: that is, the old duke is banished by his younger brother the new duke; and three or four loving lords have put themselves into voluntary exile with him, whose lands and revenues enrich the new duke; therefore he gives them good leave to wander. Oli. Can you tell if Rosalind, the duke's daughter, be banished with her father? Cha. O, no; for the duke's daughter, her cousin, so loves her, being ever from their cradles bred together, that she would have followed her exile, or have died to stay behind her. She is at the court, and no less beloved of her uncle, than his own daughter; and never two ladies loved as they do. Oli. Where will the old duke live? Cha. They say he is already in the forest of Arden, and a many merry men with him; and there they live like the old Robin Hood of England: they say many young gentlemen flock to him every day, and fleet the time carelessly, as they did in the golden world. Oli. What, you wrestle to-morrow before the new duke? Cha. Marry, do I, sir; and I came to acquaint you with a matter. I am given, sir, secretly to understand that your younger brother, Orlando, hath a disposition to come in disguised against me to try a fall: To-morrow, sir, I wrestle for my credit; and he that escapes me without some broken limb shall acquit him well. Your brother is but young, and tender; and, for your love, I would be loth to foil him, as I must, for my own honour, if he come in: therefore, out of my love to you, I came hither to acquaint you withal; that either you might stay him from his intendment, or brook such disgrace well as he shall run into; in that it is a thing of his own search, and altogether against my will. Oli. Charles, I thank thee for thy love to me, which thou shalt find I will most kindly requite. I had myself notice of my brother's purpose herein, and have by underhand means laboured to dissuade him from it; but he is resolute. I'll tell thee, Charles, it is the stubbornest young fellow of France; full of ambition, an envious emulator of every man's good parts, a secret and villainous contriver against me his natural brother; therefore use thy discretion; I had as lief thou did-t break his neck as his finger: And thou wert best look to t; for if thou dost him any slight disgrace, or if he do not mightily grace himself on thee, he will practise against thee by poison, entrap thee by some treacherous device, and never leave thee till he hath ta'en thy life by some indirect means or other: for, I assure thee, and almost with tears I speak it, there is not one so young and so villainous this day living. I speak but brotherly of him; but, should I anatomize him to thee as he is, I must blush and weep, and thou must look pale and wonder. Cha. I am heartily glad I came hither to you: If he come to-morrow I'll give him his payment: If ever he go alone again I'll never wrestle for prize more: And so, God keep vour worship. Exit. Oli. Farewell, good Charles.-Now will I sti this gamester: I hope I shall see an end of him for my soul, yet I know not why, hates nothing more than he. Yet he's gentle; never schooled and yet learned; full of noble device; of all sorts enchantingly beloved; and, indeed, so much in the heart of the world, and especially of my own people who best know him, that I am altogether misprised: but it shall not be so long; this wrestler shall clear all: nothing remains but that I kindle the boy thither, which now I'll go about. [Exit. SCENE II-A Lawn before the Duke's Palace. Enter ROSALIND and CELIA. 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 lov'st me not with the full weight that I love thee: if my uncle, thy banished rather, 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 honour J 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 honour 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 tha she makes fair she scarce makes honest; and those that she makes honest she makes very ill favouredly. 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 firef Though nature hath given us wit to flout at fortune, hath not fortune sent in this fool 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, perceiving our natural wits too dull to reason of such goddesses, hath Ros. With bills on their necks- --"Be it known unto all men by these presents," 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. Touch. Mistress, you must come away to your father. Cel. Were you made the messenger? Touch. No, by mine honour; but I was bid to come for you. Ros. Where learned you that oath, fool? Touch. 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 our knowledge? Kos. Ay, marry; now unmuzzle your wisdom. Touch. Stand you both forth now: stroke your hins 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 brsworn no more was this knight, swearing by his honour, 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 mean'st? Touch. One that old Frederick, your father, loves. Cel. My father's love is enough to honour him nough: speak no more of him; you'll 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 say'st 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. Enter LE BEAU. Ros. With his mouth full of news. 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 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. 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 Cel. Which he will put on us, as pigeons reed him, but he will not be entreated: Speak to him, their young. Ros. Then shall we be news-crammed. Cal. All the better, we shall be the more marketable. Bon jour, Monsieur le Beau: What's the news? Le Beau, Fair princess, you have lost much good sport. Cel. Sport? Of what colour? Le Beau What colour, madam? How shall I answer you? Ros. As wit and fortune will. Touch. Or as the destinies decree. Cel. Well said; that was laid on with a trowel. Le Beau. You amaze me, ladies: I would have told you of good w estling, which you have lost the sight of. Ros. Yet tell us the manner of the westling. 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 Bons, Cel. I could match this beginning with an old tale. Le Beau. Three proper young men of excellent growth and presence;- ladies: see if you can move him. Cel. Call him hither, good Monsieur le Beau. Duke F. Do so; I'll not be by. [DUKE goes apart. Le Beau. Monsieur the challenger, the princess calls for you. Orl. I attend them, with all respect and duty. Ros. Young man, have you challenged 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 your-elf with your eyes, or knew yourself with your judgment, the fear of your adventure would counsel you to a more equal enterprise. We pray yon, for your own sake, to embrace your 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 for ward. Orl. I beseech you, punish me not with your hard thoughts, wherein I confess me much guilty to deny so fair and excellent ladies anything. 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 is willing to be so: I shall do my friends no wrong, for Lave me to Linen! me; the world no injury, for in it I have nothing; | Sir, you have wrestled well, and overthrown only in the world I fill up a place which may be More than your enemies. better supplied when I have made it empty. Cel. Will you go, coz? Ros. The little strength that I bave, I would it Ros. Have with you :-Fare you well. were with you. [Exeunt ROSALIND and CELIA Orl. What passion hangs these weights upon my tongue? Cel. And mine, to eke out hers. Ros. Fare you well. Pray heaven, I be deceived 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 mightily persuaded him from a first. Orl. 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. [CHARLES and ORLANDO wrestle. Ros. O excellent young man! Cel. If I had a thunderbolt in mine eye, I can tell who should down. [CHARLES is thrown. Shout. Duke F. No more, no more. well breathed. Duke F. How dost thou, Charles? Le Beau. He cannot speak, my lord. Duke F. Bear him away. [CHARLES is borne out. What is thy name, young man? Orl. Orlando, my liege, the youngest son of Sir Rowland de Bois. [else. Duke F. I would thou hadst been son to some man The world esteem'd thy father honourable, But I did find him still mine enemy: [deed Thou shouldst have better pleased me with this 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 lov'd Sir Rowland as his soul, But justly as you have exceeded all promise, 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 hands lacks Shall we go, coz? [means. Cel. Ay:-Fare you well, fair gentleman. 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? I cannot speak to her, yet she urg'd conference. O poor Orlando! thou art overthrown; [manners Le Beau. Neither his daughter, if we judge by But yet, indeed, the shorter 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 But that the people praise her for her virtues, I shall desire more love and knowledge of you. SCENE III.-A Room in the Palace. Enter CELIA and ROSALIND. [Exit Cel. Why, cousin; why, Rosalind;-Cupid have mercy!--not a word? Ros. Not one to throw at a dog. Cal. No, thy words are too precious to be cast away upon curs; throw some of then at me: come, lame me with reasons. Ros. Then there were two cousins laid up; when the one should be lamed 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: 0, 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 petticoats will catch them. Ros. I could shake them off my coat; these burs are in my heart. [him. Cel. Hem them away. Ros. I would try; if I could cry hem, and have Cel. Come, come, wrestle with thy affections. Ros. O, they take the part of a better wrestler than myself. Cel. O, a good wish upon you! you will try in time, in despite of a fall.-But, turning these jests out of service, let us talk in good earnest: Is it possible, on such a sudden, you should fall into so strong a liking with old Sir Rowland's youngest sou? Ros. The duke my father loved his father dearly. Cel. Doth it therefore ensue that you should love his son dearly? By this kind of chase, I should hate him, for my father hated his father dearly; yet I hate not Orlando. Ros. No, 'faith, hate him not, for my sake. Cel. Why should I not? doth he not deserve well? Ros. 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. Enter DUKE FREDERICK, with Lords. Duke F. Mistress, despatch you with your safest haste, And get you from our court. Ros. Duke F. Me, uncle? You, cousin: Within these ten days if that thou be'st found So near our public court as twenty miles, Thou diest for it. Ros. I do beseech your grace, Let me the knowledge of my fault bear with me: Or have acquaintance with mine own desire, Thus do all traitors; Duke F. Thou art thy father's daughter, there's enough. Ros. So was I when your highness took his dukedom; So was I when your highness banish'd him; Cel. Dear sovereign, hear me speak. 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 still have slept together, Rose at an instant, learn'd, play'd, eat together; Aud wheresoe'er we went, like Juno's swans, Still we went coupled, and inseparable. Duke F. She is too subtle for thee; and her smoothness, Her very silence, and her patience, And thou wilt show more bright, and seem more virtuous, When she is gone: then open not thy lips; Firm and irrevocable is my doom I cannot live out of her company. Duke F. You are a fool:-You, niece, provide yourself; If you outstay the time, upon mine honour, [Exeunt DUKE FRED. and Lords. That he hath not. Cel. No? hath not? Rosalind lacks then the love Which teacheth thee that thou and I am one: Cel. To seek my uncle in the forest of Arden Cel. I put myself in poor and mean attire, Ros. Cel. What-hall I call thee when thou art a man? Ros. I'll have no worse a name than Jove's own And therefore look you call me Ganymede. [page. But what will you be call'd? Cel. Something that hath a reference to my state; No longer Celia, but Aliena. Ros. But, cousin, what if we essay'd to steal The clownish fool out of your father's court? Would he not be a comfort to our travel? Cel. He'll go along o'er the wide world with me; Leave me alone to woo him: Let's away, And get our jewels and our wealth together; Devise the fittest time, and safest way To hide us from pursuit that will be made After my flight: Now go in we content, To liberty, and not to banishment. [Exeunt |