Cha. Marry, do I, Sir; and I came to acquaint you with a matter. I am given, Sir, fecretly to understand, that your younger brother Orlando hath a difpofition to come in disguis'd against me to try a Fall. To morrow, Sir, I wreftle for my credit; and he, that escapes me without fome broken limb, fhall 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 mine 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 fuch difgrace well as he fhall run into; in that it is a thing of his own fearch, and altogether against my will. Oli. Charles, I thank thee for thy love to me, which thou fhalt find, I will moft kindly requite. I had myfelf notice of my brother's purpose herein, and have by under-hand means laboured to diffuade him from it; but he is refolute. I tell thee, Charles, he is the ftubborneft young fellow of France; full of ambition, an envious emulator of every man's good parts, a fecret and villainous contriver against me his natural brother. Therefore ufe thy difcretion; I had as lief thou didft 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 himself on thee, he will practise against thee by poifon; entrap thee by fome treacherous device; and never leave thee, 'till he hath ta'en thy life by fome indirect means or other; for I affure thee, (and almoft with tears I fpeak it) there is not one fo young and fo villanous this day living. I speak but brotherly of him; but fhould I anatomize him to thee as he is, I muft blush and weep, and thou muft 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. Fare 1 Oli. Farewel, good Charles. Now will I ftir this gamefter: I hope, I shall see 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, fo much in the heart of the world, and efpecially of my own people who beft know him. that I am altogether mifprised. 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 about. [Exit. Changes to an Open Walk, before the Duke's Palace. Cel. Enter Rofalind and Celia. Pray thee, Rofalind, fweet my coz, be merry. Rof. Dear Celia, I fhow more mirth than I am miftrefs 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 pleafure. Cel. Herein, I fee, thou lov'ft 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 hadit been ftill with me, I could have taught my love to take thy father for mine; fo wouldft 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 affection; by mine Honour, I will-and when I break that that oath, let me turn monfter. Therefore, my sweet Rofe, my dear Rose, be merry. Ref. From henceforth I will, coz, and devife Sports. Let me fee-What think you of falling in love? Cel. Marry, I pr'ythee, do, to make sport withal; but love no man in good earneft; nor no further in fport neither, than with fafety of a pure blush thou may'ft in honour come off again. Rof. What shall be our Sport then? 8 Cel. Let us fit and mock the good housewife Fortune from her wheel, that her gilts 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. 'Tis true; for those, that she makes fair, fhe scarce makes honest; and those, that he 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 lineaments of nature. Enter Touchstone, a Clown. Cel. No! when nature hath made a fair creature, may fhe 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 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 smock the good housewife Fortune from her wheel,] The wheel of fortune is not the wheel of a housewife, Shakespeare has confounded fortune whofe wheel only figures uncertainty and viciffitude, with the deftinie that fpins the thread of life, though indeed not with a wheel. Natural Natural for our whetstone: for always the dulnefs of the fool is the whetstone of the wits. How now, Wit, whither wander you ? Clo. Mistress, 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 knowledge? your 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. if Cel. By our beards, if we had them, thou art. Clo. By my knavery, if I had it, then I were; but 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 saw thofe pancakes or that mustard. Cel. Pr'ythee, who is that thou mean'st? Clo. 9 One, that old Frederick your father loves. 9 Clo. One, that old Frederick your father loves. Rof. My Father's Love is enough to honour him enough;] This Reply to the Clown is in all the Books plac'd to Rofalind; but Frederick was not her Father, but Celia's: I have therefore ventur'd 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 BrotherDukes were Namefakes; and One call'd the Old, and the Other the Younger Frederick; and, without fome fuch Authority, it would make Confufion to suppose it. THEOBALD. Mr. Theobald feems not to know that the Dramatis Perfone were first enumerated by Rowe. -enough! -enough! fpeak no more of him, you'll be whipt for taxation one of these days. Clo. The more pity, that fools may not speak wisely 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. SCENE V. Enter Le Beu. Rof. With his mouth full of news. Cel. Which he will put on us, as pigeons feed their young. Rof. Then fhall we be news-cram'd. Cel. All the better, we shall be the more marketable. Bon jour, 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 answer 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. 3 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 jeffers, 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. 2 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 |
