AS YOU LIKE IT. Sidney Lee

Charles?

       LE BEAU

       He cannot speak, my lord.

       DUKE FREDERICK

       Bear him away.

       [CHARLES is borne out.]

       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 esteem’d thy father honourable,

       But I did find him still mine enemy:

       Thou shouldst have better pleas’d 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, Train, and LE BEAU.]

       CELIA

       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 ventur’d.

       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 deserv’d:

       If you do keep your promises in love

       But justly, as you have exceeded promise,

       Your mistress shall be happy.

       ROSALIND

       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 hand lacks means.—

       Shall we go, coz?

       CELIA

       Ay.—Fare you well, fair gentleman.

       ORLANDO

       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

       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.—Fare you well.

       [Exeunt ROSALIND and CELIA.]

       ORLANDO

       What passion hangs these weights upon my tongue?

       I cannot speak to her, yet she urg’d conference.

       O poor Orlando! thou art overthrown:

       Or Charles, or something weaker, masters thee.

       [Re-enter LE BEAU.]

       LE BEAU

       Good sir, I do in friendship counsel you

       To leave this place. Albeit you have deserv’d

       High commendation, true applause, and love,

       Yet such is now the duke’s condition,

       That he miscónstrues 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 smaller 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

       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.]

      SCENE III. A Room in the Palace

       [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