Oli. Charles, I thank thee for thy love to me, which thou fhalt find, I will mot kindly requite. I had myfelf notice of my brother's purpofe herein, and have by under-hand means laboured to diffuade him from it; but he is refolute. I tell thee, Charles, he is the stubbornet young fellow of France; full of ambition, an envious, emulator of every man's good parts, a fecret and villanous contriver against me his natural brother; therefore ufe thy difcretion; I had as lief thou didst break his neck, as his finger. And thou wert beft look to't; for if thou doft him any flight difgrace, or if he do not mightily grace himfelf on thee, he will practife against thee by poifon; entrap thee by fome treacherous de-. vice; and never leave thee, 'till he hath ta'en thy life by fome indirect means or other; for I affure thee, (and, almost with tears I fpeak it) there is not one fo young and fo villanous this day living. I fpeak but brotherly of him but fhould 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 fo, God keep your worship. [Exit.

Oli. Farewel, good Charles. Now will I ftir this, gamefter: I hope, I shall fee an end of him; for my foul, yet I know not why, hates nothing more than he. Yet he's gentle; never school'd, and yet learned; full of noble device, of all forts enchantingly beloved; and, indeed, fo much in the heart of the world, and especially of my own people who beft know him, that I am altogether mifprifed. But it fhall not be fo, long; this. wreftler fhall clear all; nothing remains, but that I kindle the boy thither, which now I'll go about.

SCENE changes to an open Walk, before the Duke's Palace.

Cel.

Enter Rofalind and Celia.

Rof. Dear Celia, I fhow more mirth than I am mistress of; and would you yet I were merrier ? unlefs you could teach me to forget a banish'd father, you must not learn me how to remember any extraordinary pleasure.

Cel. Herein, I fee, thou lov't me not with the full weight that I love thee. If my uncle, thy banished father, had banished thy uncle the Duke, my father, fo thou hadst been fill with me, I could have taught my love to take thy father for mine; fo wouldst thou, if the truth of thy love to me were fo righteously temper'd, as mine is to thee.

Rof. Well, I will forget the condition of my eftate, 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 fhalt be his heir; for what he hath taken away from thy father perforce, I will render thee again in affection; by mine honour, I will; and when I break that oath, let me turn monster: therefore, my fweet Rose, my dear Rafe, be merry.

Rof. From henceforth I will, coz, and devife fports; let me fee, what think you of falling in love?

Cel. Marry, I pr'ythee, do, to make fport withal; but love no man in good earnest, nor no further in sport neither, than with fafety of a pure blush thou may'st in honour come off again.

Rof. What fhall be our sport then?

Cel. Let us fit and mock the good housewife Fortune from her wheel, that her gifts may henceforth be bestowed equally.

Rof. I would, we could do fo; for her benefits are mightily misplaced, and the bountiful blind woman doth most mistake in her gifts to women.

Cel.

Cel. 'Tis true; for thofe, that he makes fair, fhe fcarce makes honeft; and thofe, that the makes honest, fhe makes very ill-favoured.

Rof. Nay, now thou goeft 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 the not by fortune fall into the fire? tho' nature hath given us wit to flout at fortune, hath not fortune fent in this Fool to cut off this argument?

Ro. 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 reafon of fuch Goddeffes, hath fent this Natural for our whetstone: for always the dulnefs of the fool is the whetstone of the wits. How now, Wit, whither wander you?

Clo. Miftrefs, you must come away to your father.
Cel. Were you made the meffenger?

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

Rof. Where learned you, that oath, fool?

Clo. Of a certain Knight, that fwore by his honour they were good pancakes, and fwore by his honour the muftard was naught: Now I'll ftand to it, the pancakes were naught, and the muftard was good, and yet was not the Knight forfworn.

Cel. How prove you that in the great heap of your knowledge?

Rof. Ay, marry; now unmuzzle your wisdom.

Clo. Stand you both forth now; ftroke your chins, and fwear 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 fwear by that that is not, you are not forfworn; no more was this knight fwearing by his ho-"

M 4

nour,

nour, for he never had any; or if he had, he had fworn it away, before ever he faw thofe 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; fpeak no more of him, you'll be whipt for taxation one of thefe days.

Clo. The more pity, that fools may not fpeak wifely what wife men do foolishly.

Cel. By my troth, thou fay'it true; for fince the little wit that fools have was filenced, the little foolery that wife men have makes a great Show: here comes Monfieur Le Beu.

Enter Le Beu.

Rof. With his mouth full of news.

Cel. Which he will put on us, as pigeons feed their young.

Ro. Then fhall we be news-cram'd.

Cel. All the better, we fhall be the more marketable. Bonjour, Monfieur le Beu; what news?

Le Beu. Fair Princess, you have loft much good Sport.

Cel. Sport; of what colour?

Le Beu. What colour, Madam? how fhall I anfwer

you?

Rof. As wit and fortune will.

Clo. Or as the deftinies decree.

• Cel. Well faid; that was laid on with a trowel.

(1) Clo. One, that old Frederick your Father loves.

Rof. My Father's Love is enough to bonour bim enough; This Reply to the Clown is in all the Books placed to Rofalind; but Frederick was not her Father, but Celia's: I have therefore ventured to prefix the Name of Celia. There is no Countenance from any Paffage in the Play, or from the Dramatis Perfonæ, to imagine, that Both the Brother-Dukes were Namefakes; and one called the Old, and the other the Younger Frederick; and, without fome fuch Authority, it would make Confufion to fuppofe it.

T

Clo

Clo. Nay, if I keep not my rank,

Rof. Thou lofeft thy old smell.

Le Beu. You amaze me, ladies; I would have told you of good wrestling, which you have loft the fight of. Rof. Yet tell us the manner of the wrestling.

Le Beu. I will tell you the beginning, and, if it please your Ladyfhips, you may fee 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 prefence ;

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: fo he ferv'd the fecond, and fo the third : yonder they lie, the poor old man their father making fuch pitiful dole over them, that all the beholders take his part with weeping.

Rof. Alas!

Clo. But what is the fport, Monfieur, that the ladies have loft?

Le Beu. Why this, that I fpeak of.

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

Cel. Or I, I promise thee.

Rof. But (2) is there any elfe longs to fet this broken

(2) Is there any elfe longs to fee this broken Mufick in his Sides?] This feems a ftupid Error in the Copies. They are talking here of fome who had their Ribs broke in Wrestling: and the Pleasantry of Rofalind's Repartee muft confift in the Allufion fhe makes to compofing in Mufick. It neceffarily follows therefore, that the Poet wrote fet this broken Mufick in bis Sides. Mr. Warburton.