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Oli. Farewel, good Charles. Now will I ftir thi gamefter: I hope, I fhall fee an end of him; for my foul, yet I know not why, hates nothing more than him. Yet he's gentle; never school'd, and yet learned; full of noble device; of all Sorts enchantingly beloved; and, indeed, so much in the heart of the world, and efpecially of my own people who beft know him, that I am altogether mifprifed. But it fhall not be fo long-this wrestler fhall clear all. Nothing remains, but that I kindle the boy thither, which now I'll go [Exit.
Changes to an Open Walk, before the Duke's Palace.
Enter Rofalind and Celia.
Cet. Pray thee, Rofalind, fweet my coz, be merry. 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 muft not learn me how to remember any extraordinary pleasure.
Cel. Herein, I fee, thou lov'ft me not with the full weight that I love thee. If my uncle, thy banished father, had banifhed thy uncle, the Duke my father, fo thou hadst been ftill 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 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 fhalt be his heir; for what he hath taken away from thy father perforce, I will render thee again in affec tion; by mine Honour, I will-and when I break.
that oath, let me turn monster. Therefore, my sweet Rofe, my dear Rofe, be merry.
Rof. From henceforth I will, coz, and devise Sports. 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 earneft; nor no further in sport neither, than with fafety of a pure blush thou may'st in honour come off again.
Rof. What shall 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 mifplaced, and the bountiful blind woman doth most mistake in her gifts to women.
Cel. 'Tis true; for thofe, that the makes fair, fhe fcarce makes honeft; and thofe, that the makes honest, she 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 dineaments of nature.
Enter Touchstone, a Clown.
Cel. No! when nature hath made a fair creature, may the not by fortune fall into the fire? Though nature hath given us wit to flout at fortune, hath not fortune fent in this Fool to cut off this argument?
Rof. Indeed, there is fortune too hard for nature; when fortune makes nature's Natural the cutter off of nature's Within of ferale
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
8 mock the good housewife Fortune from her wheel,] The wheel of fortune is not the wheel of a bousewife. Shakespeare has confounded fortune whofe wheel
only figures uncertainty and viciffitude, with the deftinie that pins the thread of life, though indeed not with a wheel.
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? 1425
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 mustard 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 wifdom. 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 honour, 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. One, that old Frederick your father loves.
enough! fpeak no more of him, you'll be whipt for taxation one of these days.
Clo. The more pity, that fools may not fpeak wifely what wife men do foolishly.
Cel.. By my troth, thou fay'ft true; for fince the little wit that fools have was filenc'd', 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
Rof. Then fhall we be news-cram'd.
Cel. All the better, we fhall be the more marketable. Bon jour, Monfieur le Beu; what news?
Le Beu, Fair Princefs, you have loft much good Sport.
Cel. Sport; of what colour?
Le Beu. What colour, Madam? How fhall I an fwer you?
Rof. As wit and fortune will.
Clo. Or as the deftinies decree.
Cel. Well faid; that was laid on with a trowel ".
Rof. Thou lofeft thy old smell.
Le Beu. You amaze me, ladies. I would have
fince the little wit that fools have was filenc'd]. ShakeSpeare probably alludes to the ufe of fools or jefters, who for fome ages had been allowed in all courts an unbridled liberty of cenfure and mockery, and about this time began to be less tolerated.
laid on with a trowel.]'
I fuppofe the meaning is, that there is too heavy a mass of big words laid upon a flight fubject.
3 You amaze me, ladies.] To amaze, here, is not to aftonish or ftrike with wonder, but to perplex; to confufe; as, to put out of the intended narrative.
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 pleafe your Ladyfhips, you may fee the end, for the beft 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 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 thefe 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, and there is little hope of life in him: fo he ferv'd the Second, 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!
4 With BILLS on their necks: Be it known unto all men by thefe prefents; The ladies and the fool, according to the mode of wit at that time, are at a kind of cross purposes. Where the words of one fpeaker are wrefted by another, in a repartee, to a different meaning. As where the Clown fays juft before- -Nay, if I keep not my rank. Rojalind replies-thou lofefi thy old smell. So here when Rofalind had faid, With bills on their necks, the Clown, to be quits with her, puts in, Knowy all men by these preJents. She spoke of an inftru