The Oxford Shakespeare: The Complete Works

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The Oxford Shakespeare: The Complete Works Page 216

by William Shakespeare


  LE BEAU You must if you stay here, for here is the place appointed for the wrestling, and they are ready to perform it.

  CELIA Yonder sure they are coming. Let us now stay and see it.

  Flourish. Enter Duke Frederick, Lords, Orlando, Charles, and attendants

  DUKE FREDERICK Come on. Since the youth will not be entreated, his own peril on his forwardness.

  ROSALIND Is yonder the man?

  LE BEAU Even he, madam.

  CELIA Alas, he is too young. Yet he looks successfully.

  DUKE FREDERICK How now, daughter and cousin; are you crept hither to see the wrestling?

  ROSALIND Ay, my liege, so please you give us leave.

  DUKE FREDERICK 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.

  CELIA Call him hither, good Monsieur Le Beau.

  DUKE FREDERICK Do SO. I’ll not be by.

  He stands aside

  LE BEAU (to Orlando) Monsieur the challenger, the Princess calls for you.

  ORLANDO I attend them with all respect and duty.

  ROSALIND Young man, have you challenged Charles the wrestler?

  ORLANDO No, fair Princess. He is the general challenger; I come but in as others do, to try with him the strength of my youth.

  CELIA 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 own safety and give over this attempt.

  ROSALIND Do, young sir. Your reputation shall not therefore be misprized. We will make it our suit to the Duke that the wrestling might not go forward.

  ORLANDO 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 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.

  ROSALIND The little strength that I have, I would it were with you.

  CELIA And mine, to eke out hers.

  ROSALIND Fare you well. Pray heaven I be deceived in you.

  CELIA Your heart’s desires be with you.

  CHARLES Come, where is this young gallant that is so desirous to lie with his mother earth?

  ORLANDO Ready, sir; but his will hath in it a more modest working.

  DUKE FREDERICK You shall try but one fall.

  CHARLES No, I warrant your grace you shall not entreat him to a second that have so mightily persuaded him from a first.

  ORLANDO You mean to mock me after; you should not have mocked me before. But come your ways.

  ROSALIND (to Orlando) Now Hercules be thy speed, young man!

  CELIA I would I were invisible, to catch the strong fellow by the leg.

  Charles and Orlando wrestle

  ROSALIND O excellent young man!

  CELIA If I had a thunderbolt in mine eye, I can tell who should down.

  Orlando throws Charles. Shout

  DUKE FREDERICK

  No more, no more.

  ORLANDO Yes, I beseech your grace.

  I am not yet well breathed.

  DUKE FREDERICK How dost thou, Charles?

  LE BEAU He cannot speak, my lord.

  DUKE FREDERICK Bear him away.

  Attendants carry Charles off

  What is thy name, young man?

  ORLANDO Orlando, my liege, the youngest son of Sir Rowland de Bois.

  DUKE FREDERICK

  I would thou hadst been son to some man else.

  The world esteemed thy father honourable,

  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 Frederick, Le Beau, [Touchstone,] Lords, and attendants

  CELIA (to Rosalind)

  Were I my father, coz, would I do this?

  ORLANDO

  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.

  ROSALIND

  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.

  CELIA 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.

  ROSALIND (giving him a chain from her neck) Gentleman, Wear this for me—one out of suits with fortune, That could give more but that her hand lacks means. Shall we go, coz?

  CELIA Ay. Fare you well, fair gentleman.

  Rosalind and Celia turn to go

  ORLANDO (aside)

  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.

  ROSALIND (to Celia)

  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.

  CELIA Will you go, coz?

  ROSALIND Have with you. (To Orlando) Fare you well.

  Exeunt Rosalind and Celia

  ORLANDO

  What passion hangs these weights upon my tongue?

  I cannot speak to her, yet she urged conference.Enter Le Beau

  O poor Orlando! Thou art overthrown.

  Or Charles or something weaker masters thee.

  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 misconsters all that you have done.

  The Duke is humorous. What he is indeed

  More suits you to conceive than I to speak of.

  ORLANDO

  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 shorter is his daughter.

  The other is daughter to the banished Duke,

  And here detained 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,

  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.

  ORLANDO

  I rest much bounden to you. Fare you well.

 
Exit Le Beau

  Thus must I from the smoke into the smother,

  From tyrant Duke unto a tyrant brother.—

  But heavenly Rosalind! Exit

  13. Enter Celia and Rosalind

  CELIA Why cousin, why Rosalind—Cupid have mercy, not a word?

  ROSALIND Not one to throw at a dog.

  CELIA No, thy words are too precious to be cast away upon curs. Throw some of them at me. Come, lame me with reasons.

  ROSALIND Then there were two cousins laid up, when the one should be lamed with reasons and the other mad without any.

  CELIA But is all this for your father?

  ROSALIND No, some of it is for my child’s father. O how full of briers is this working-day world!

  CELIA 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.

  ROSALIND I could shake them off my coat. These burs are in my heart.

  CELIA Hem them away.

  ROSALIND I would try, if I could cry ‘hem’ and have him.

  CELIA Come, come, wrestle with thy affections.

  ROSALIND O, they take the part of a better wrestler than myself.

  CELIA 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 son?

  ROSALIND The Duke my father loved his father dearly.

  CELIA 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.

  ROSALIND No, faith, hate him not, for my sake.

  CELIA Why should I not? Doth he not deserve well? Enter Duke Frederick, with Lords

  ROSALIND Let me love him for that, and do you love him because I do. Look, here comes the Duke.

  CELIA With his eyes full of anger.

  DUKE FREDERICK (to Rosalind) Mistress, dispatch you with your safest haste, And get you from our court.

  ROSALIND Me, uncle?

  DUKE FREDERICK You, cousin. Within these ten days if that thou beest found So near our public court as twenty miles, Thou diest for it.

  ROSALIND I do beseech your grace

  Let me the knowledge of my fault bear with me.

  If with myself I hold intelligence,

  Or have acquaintance with mine own desires,

  If that I do not dream, or be not frantic—

  As I do trust I am not—then, dear uncle,

  Never so much as in a thought unborn

  Did I offend your highness.

  DUKE FREDERICK

  Thus do all traitors.

  If their purgation did consist in words

  They are as innocent as grace itself.

  Let it suffice thee that I trust thee not.

  ROSALIND

  Yet your mistrust cannot make me a traitor.

  Tell me whereon the likelihood depends?

  DUKE FREDERICK

  Thou art thy father’s daughter—there’s enough.

  ROSALIND

  So was I when your highness took his dukedom;

  So was I when your highness banished him.

  Treason is not inherited, my lord,

  Or if we did derive it from our friends,

  What’s that to me? My father was no traitor.

  Then, good my liege, mistake me not so much

  To think my poverty is treacherous.

  CELIA Dear sovereign, hear me speak.

  DUKE FREDERICK

  Ay, Celia, we stayed her for your sake,

  Else had she with her father ranged along.

  CELIA

  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, learned, played, eat together,

  And wheresoe’er we went, like Juno’s swans

  Still we went coupled and inseparable.

  DUKE FREDERICK

  She is too subtle for thee, and her smoothness,

  Her very silence, and her patience

  Speak to the people, and they pity her.

  Thou art a fool. She robs thee of thy name,

  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

  Which I have passed upon her. She is banished.

  CELIA

  Pronounce that sentence then on me, my liege.

  I cannot live out of her company.

  DUKE FREDERICK

  You are a foot.—You, niece, provide yourself.

  If you outstay the time, upon mine honour

  And in the greatness of my word, you die.

  Exit Duke Frederick, with Lords

  CELIA

  O my poor Rosalind, whither wilt thou go?

  Wilt thou change fathers? I will give thee mine.

  I charge thee, be not thou more grieved than I am.

  ROSALIND

  I have more cause.

  CELIA Thou hast not, cousin.

  Prithee, be cheerful. Know’st thou not the Duke

  Hath banished me, his daughter?

  ROSALIND That he hath not.

  CELIA

  No, hath not? Rosalind, lack’st thou then the love

  Which teacheth thee that thou and I am one?

  Shall we be sundered? Shall we part, sweet girl?

  No. Let my father seek another heir.

  Therefore devise with me how we may fly,

  Whither to go, and what to bear with us,

  And do not seek to take your change upon you,

  To bear your griefs yourself, and leave me out.

  For by this heaven, now at our sorrows pale,

  Say what thou canst, I’ll go along with thee.

  ROSALIND Why, whither shall we go?

  CELIA

  To seek my uncle in the forest of Ardenne.

  ROSALIND

  Alas, what danger will it be to us,

  Maids as we are, to travel forth so far!

  Beauty provoketh thieves sooner than gold.

  CELIA

  I’ll put myself in poor and mean attire,

  And with a kind of umber smirch my face.

  The like do you, so shall we pass along

  And never stir assailants.

  ROSALIND Were it not better,

  Because that I am more than common tall,

  That I did suit me all points like a man,

  A gallant curtal-axe upon my thigh,

  A boar-spear in my hand, and in my heart,

  Lie there what hidden woman’s fear there will.

  We’ll have a swashing and a martial outside,

  As many other mannish cowards have,

  That do outface it with their semblances.

  CELIA

  What shall I call thee when thou art a man?

  ROSALIND

  I’ll have no worse a name than Jove’s own page,

  And therefore look you call me Ganymede.

  But what will you be called?

  CELIA

  Something that hath a reference to my state.

  No longer Celia, but Aliena.

  ROSALIND

  But cousin, what if we essayed to steal

  The clownish fool out of your father’s court.

  Would he not be a comfort to our travel?

  CELIA

  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 we in content,


  To liberty, and not to banishment.

  Exeunt

  2.1 Enter Duke Senior, Amiens, and two or three Lords dressed as foresters

  DUKE SENIOR

  Now, my co-mates and brothers in exile,

  Hath not old custom made this life more sweet

  Than that of painted pomp? Are not these woods

  More free from peril than the envious court?

  Here feel we not the penalty of Adam,

  The seasons’ difference, as the icy fang

  And churlish chiding of the winter’s wind,

  Which when it bites and blows upon my body

  Even till I shrink with cold, I smile, and say

  ‘This is no flattery. These are counsellors

  That feelingly persuade me what I am.’

  Sweet are the uses of adversity

  Which, like the toad, ugly and venomous,

  Wears yet a precious jewel in his head;

  And this our life, exempt from public haunt,

  Finds tongues in trees, books in the running brooks,

  Sermons in stones, and good in everything.

  AMIENS

  I would not change it. Happy is your grace

  That can translate the stubbornness of fortune

  Into so quiet and so sweet a style.

  DUKE SENIOR

  Come, shall we go and kill us venison?

  And yet it irks me the poor dappled fools,

  Being native burghers of this desert city,

  Should in their own confines with forked heads

  Have their round haunches gored.

  FIRST LORD

  Indeed, my lord,

  The melancholy Jaques grieves at that,

  And in that kind swears you do more usurp

  Than doth your brother that hath banished you.

  Today my lord of Amiens and myself

  Did steal behind him as he lay along

  Under an oak, whose antic root peeps out

  Upon the brook that brawls along this wood,

  To the which place a poor sequestered stag

  That from the hunter’s aim had ta‘en a hurt

  Did come to languish. And indeed, my lord,

  The wretched animal heaved forth such groans

  That their discharge did stretch his leathern coat

  Almost to bursting, and the big round tears

  Coursed one another down his innocent nose

  In piteous chase. And thus the hairy fool,

  Much marked of the melancholy Jaques,

  Stood on th’extremest verge of the swift brook,

 

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