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No, not my body, nor my husband's bed.
It comes from Padua, from Bellario : Know him I shall, I am well sure of it :
There you shall find that Portia was the doctor, Lie not a night from home; watch me like Argus: Nerissa there, her clerk : Lorenzo here If you do not, if I be left alone,
Shall witness I set forth as soon as you Now, by mine honour, which is yet mine own, And even but now return'd; I have not yet I'll have that doctor for my bedfellow.
Enter'd my house. Antonio, you are welcome; Ner. Aud I his clerk; therefore, be well advis'd And I have better news in store for you How you do leave me to mine own protection. Than you expect : unseal this letter soon ; Gra. Well, do you so : let not me take him There you shall find three of your argosies then;
Are richly come to harbour suddenly. For if I do, I'll mar the young
You shall not know by what strange accident Ant. I am the unhappy subject of these quarrels. I chanced on this letter. Por. Sir, grieve not you; you are welcome Ant.
I am dumb. notwithstanding.
Bass. Were you the doctor and I knew you not! Buss. Portia, forgive me this enforced wrong ; Gra. Were you the clerk that is to make me And in the hearing of these many friends,
cuckold ? I swear to thee, even by thine own fair eyes, Ner. Ay; but the clerk that never means to Wherein I see myself,
do it, Por.
Mark you but that! Unless he live until he be a man. In both my eyes he doubly sees himself ;
Bass. Sweet doctor, you shall be my bedfellow: In each eye, one: swear by your double self, When I am absent, then lie with my wife. And there's an oath of credit.
Ant. Sweet lady, you have given me life and Bass.
Nay, but hear me: living,
For here I read for certain that my ships
How now, Lorenzo ! Which, but for him that had your husband's ring, My clerk hath some good comforts too for you. Had quite miscarried : I dare be bound again, Ner. Ay, and I'll give them him without a My soul upon the forfeit, that your lord
fee. Will never more break faith advisedly.
There do I give to you and Jessica, Por. Then you shall be his surety. Give him From the rich Jew, a special deed of gift, this,
After his death, of all he dies possess'd of. And bid him keep it better than the other. Lor. Fair ladies, you drop manva in the way Ant. Here, Lord Bassanio; swear to keep Of starved people. this ring
It is almost morning, Betss. By heaven! it is the same I gave the And yet I am sure you are not satisfied doctor.
Of these events at full. Let us go in; Por. I had it of him : pardon me, Bassanio, And charge us there upon inter'gatories, For, by this ring, the doctor lay with me. And we will answer all things faithfully,
Ver. Anil pardon me, my gentle Gratiano, 260 Gra. Let it be so : the first inter’gatory For that same scrubbed boy, the doctor's clerk, That my Nerissa shall be sworn on is, In lieu of this last night did lie with me. Whether till the next night she had rather stay,
Gra. Why, this is like the mending of highways or go to bed now, being two hours to day: In summer, where the ways are fair enough. But were the day come, I should wish it dark, What are we cuckolds ere we have deserv'd it? That I were couching with the doctor's clerk.
Por. Speak not so grossly. You are all amazd: Well, while I live I 'll fear no other thing Here is a letter ; read it at your leisure; So sore as keeping safe Nerissa's ring. Exeunt.
AS YOU LIKE IT.
DUKE, living in banishment.
FREDERICK, his Brother, Usurper of his domi
AMIENS,Lords attending on the banished Duke. JAQUES,
LE BEAU, a Courtier.
CHARLES, a Wrestler.
JAQUES, Sons of Sir Rowland de Boys.
ADAM, Servants to Oliver. DENNIS, S
SCENE I.-An Orchard, near OLIVER'S House. Enter ORLANDO and ADAM.
SCENE.-First, near Oliver's House; afterwards, in the Usurper's Court, and in the Forest of Arden.
Orl. As I remember, Adam, it was upon this fashion bequeathed me by will but poor a thousand crowns; and, as thou savest, charged my brother on his blessing, to breed me well: and there begins my sadness. My brother Jaques he keeps at school, and report speaks goldenly of his profit for my part, he keeps me rustically at home, or, to speak more properly, stays me here at home unkept; for call you that keeping for a gentleman of my birth, that differs not from the stalling of an ox? His horses are bred better; for, besides that they are fair with their feeding, they are taught their manage, and to that end riders dearly hired: but I, his brother, gain nothing under him but growth, for the which his animals on his dunghills are as much bound to him as I. Besides this nothing that he so plentifully gives me, the something that nature gave me, his countenance seems to take from me: he lets me feed with his hinds, bars me the place of a brother, and, as much as in him lies, mines my gentility with my education. This is it, Adam, that grieves me; and the spirit of my father, which I think is within me, begins to mutiny against this servitude. I will no longer endure it, though yet I know no wise remedy how to avoid it.
Adam. Yonder comes my master, your brother. Orl. Go apart, Adam, and thou shalt hear how he will shake me up.
Oli. Now, sir! what make you here? Orl. Nothing: I am not taught to make any thing.
Orl. Ay better than him I am before knows me. I know you are my eldest brother; and, in the gentle condition of blood, you should so know me. The courtesy of nations allows you my better, in that you are the first-born; but the same tradition takes not away my blood, were there twenty brothers betwixt us. I have as much of my father in me as you; albeit, I confess, your coming before me is nearer to his reverence.
Oli. What, boy!
Orl. Come, come, elder brother, you are too young in this.
Oli. Wilt thou lay hands on me, villain? Orl. I am no villain; I am the youngest son of Sir Rowland de Boys; he was my father, and he is thrice a villain that says such a father begot villains. Wert thou not my brother, I would not take this hand from thy throat till this other had pulled out thy tongue for saying so thou hast railed on thyself.
Adam. Sweet masters, be patient: for your father's remembrance, be at accord. Oli. Let me go, I say.
Orl. I will not, till I please: you shall hear My father charged you in his will to give me good education: you have trained me like a peasant, obscuring and hiding from me all
gen: lemanlike qualities: the spirit of my father | love to you, I came hither to acquaint you withal, grows strong in me, and I will no longer endure that either you might stay him from his intend. it; therefore, allow me such exercises as may ment, or brook such disgrace well as he sball become a gentleman, or give me the poor allot- run into, in that it is a thing of his own search tery my father left me by testament ; with that and altogether against my will. I will go buy my fortunes.
Oli. Charles, I thank thee for thy love to me, Oli. And what wilt thou do? beg, when that which thou shalt find I will most kindly requite. is spent ? Well, sir, get you in : I will not long had myself notice of my brother's purpose be troubled with you; you shall have some part herein, and have by underband means laboured of your will : I pray you, leave me.
to dissuade him from it, but he is resolute. I'll Orl. I will no further offend you than becomes tell thee, Charles, it is the stubbornest young me for my good.
fellow of France; full of ambition, an envious Oli. Get you with him, you old dog.
emulator of every man's good parts, a secret Adam. Is 'old dog' my reward? Most true, and villanous contriver against me his natural I have lost my teeth in your service. God be brother : therefore use thy discretion. I had as with my old master! he would not have spoke lief thou didst break his neck as his finger. And such a word. Ercunt ORLANDO an 1 ADAM. 9) thou wert best look to't ; for if thou dost him
Oli. Is it even so ? begin you to grow upon any slight disgrace, or if he do not mightily me? I will physic your rankness, and set give grace himself on thee, he will practise against no thousand crowns neither. Holla, Dennis ! thee by poison, entrap thee by some treacherous
device, and never leave thee till he bath ta'en Enter DENNIS.
thy life by some indirect means or other; for, Den. Calls your worship?
I assure thee, and almost with tears I speak it, Oli. Was not Charles, the duke's wrestler, there is not one so young and so villanous this day here to speak with me?
living. I speak but brotherly of him ; but should Den. So please you, he is here at the door, I anatomize him to thee as he is, I must blush and and importunes access to you.
weep, and thou must look pale and wonder. 185 Oli. Call him in.
Exit DENNIS. Cha. I am heartily g'ad I came hither to you. 'Twill be a good way; and to-morrow the he come to-morrow, I'll give him bis pas. wrestling is.
ment: if ever he go alone again, I'll never Enter CHARLES.
wrestle for prize more ; and so God keep your worship!
Eicit. Cha. Good morrow to your worsbip.
Oli. Farewell, good Charles. Now will I stir Oli. Good Monsieur Charles, what's the new this gamester.ì hope I shall see an end of news at the new court ?
him ; for my soul, yet I know not why, hates Cha. There's no news at the court, sir, but nothing more than he. Yet he's gentle, nerer the old news: that is, the old duke is banished schooled and yet learned, full of noble device, by his younger brother the new duke ; and three of all sorts enchantingly beloved, and indeed so or four loving lords have put themselves into much in the heart of the world, and especially voluntary exile with him, whose lands and re- of my own people, who best know him, that I venues enrich the new duke; therefore he gives am altogether misprised. But it shall not be so them good leave to wander.
un long ; this wrestler shall clear all : nothing reOli. Can you tell if Rosalind, the duke's mains but that I kindle the boy thither, which daughter, be banished with her father ?
now I'll go about.
Erit. 153 Cha. O, no; for the duke's daughter, her cousin, so loves her, being ever from their SCENE II.-A Lawn before the Duke's Palace. cradles bred together, that she would have fol. lowed her exile, or have died to stay behind her.
Enter ROSALIND and CELIA. She is at the court, and no less beloved of her Cel. I pray thee, Rosalind, sweet my coz, be uncle than his own daughter; and never two merry. ladies loved as they do.
Ros. Dear Celia, I show more mirth than I am Oli. Where will the old duke live?
mistress of, and would you yet I were merrier! Cha. They say he is already in the forest of Unless you could teach 'me to forget a banished Arden, and a many merry men with him ; and father, you must not learn me bow to remember there they live like the old Robin Hood of Eng. any extraordinary pleasure. land. They say many young gentlemen flock to Cd. Herein I see thou lovest me not with the him every day, and fleet the time carelessly, as full weight that I love thee. If my uncle, thy they did in the golden world.
banished father, had banished thy uncle, the Oli. What! you wrestle to-morrow before the duke my father, so thou hadst been still with new duke ?
me, I could have taught my love to take thy Cha. Marry, do I, sir; and I came to acquaint father for mine : so would'st thou, if the truth you with a matter. I am given, sir, secretly to of thy love to me were so righteously tempered understand that your younger brother Orlando as inine is to thee. hath a disposition to come in disguised against Ros. Well, I will forget the condition of my me to try a fall. To-morrow, sir, I wrestle for estate, to rejoice in yours. my credit, and he that escapes me without some Cl. You know my father hath no child but 1, broken limb shall acquit him well. Your brother nor none is like to have ; and, truly, when he dies, is but young and tender ; and, for your love, I thou shalt be his heir : for what he hath taken would be loath to foil him as I must, for my away from thy father perforce, I will render thee own honour, if he come in : therefore, out of my again in affection ; by mine honour, I will; and
when I break that oath, let me turn monster. Therefore, my sweet Rose, my dear Rose, be merry. Ros. From henceforth I will, coz, and devise sports. Let me see; what think you of falling in love?
Cel. Marry, I prithee, do, to make sport withal: but love no man in good earnest ; nor no further in sport neither, than with safety of a pure blush thou mayest in honour come off again.
Ros. What shall be our sport then?
Cel. Let us sit and mock the good housewife Fortune from her wheel, that her gifts may henceforth be bestowed equally.
Ros. I would we could do so, 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 she scarce makes honest, and those that she makes honest she makes very ill-favouredly. 41
Ros. Nay, now thou goest from Fortune's office to Nature's Fortune reigns in gifts of the world, not in the lineaments of Nature.
Cel. No when Nature hath made a fair creature, may she not by Fortune fall into the fire? Though Nature hath given us wit to flout at Fortune, hath not Fortune sent in this fool to cut off the argument?
Ros. Indeed, there is Fortune too hard for Nature, when Fortune makes Nature's natural the cutter-off of Nature's wit.
Ros. Where learned you that oath, fool? Touch. Of a certain knight that swore by his honour they were good pancakes, and swore by his honour the mustard was naught: now, I'll stand to it, the pancakes were naught and the mustard was good, and yet was not the knight forsworn. 70
Cel. How prove you that, in the great heap of your knowledge?
the little wit that fools have was silenced, the
Cel. Which he will put on us, as pigeons feed their young.
Ros. Then shall we be news-crammed.
Cel. All the better; we shall be the more marketable.
Ros. Ay, marry: now unmuzzle your wisdom. Touch. Stand you both forth now: stroke your chins, and swear by your beards that I am a knave. Cel. By our beards, if we had them, thou art. Touch. By my knavery, if I had it, then I were; but if you swear by that that is not, you are not forsworn no more was this knight, swearing by his honour, for he never had any; or if he had, he had sworn it away before ever he saw those pancakes or that mustard. 82
Cd. Prithee, who is 't that thou meanest ? Touch. One that old Frederick, your father,loves. Cel. My father's love is enough to honour him. Enough! speak no more of him; you'll be whipped for taxation one of these days.
Touch. The more pity, that fools may not speak wisely what wise men do foolishly.
Cel. By my troth, thou sayest true; for since
Ros. Yet tell us the manner of the wrestling. Le Bean. I will tell you the beginning; and. if it please your ladyships, you may see the end, for the best 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 Beau. There comes an old man and his three sons, —
Cl. I could match this beginning with an old tale.
Cel. Peradventure this is not Fortune's work neither, but Nature's; who perceiving our natural wits too dull to reason of such goddesses, hath sent this natural for our whetstone: for always the dulness of the fool is the whetstone of the wits. How now, wit! whither wander you? Touch. Mistress, you must come away to your father.
Le Beau. Three proper young men, of excellent growth and presence ;
Ros. With bills on their necks, Pe it known unto all men by these presents.'
Le Beau. The eldest of the three wrestled with Charles, the duke's wrestler; which Charles in
Cd. Were you made the messenger? Touch. No, by mine honour; but I was bid a moment threw him and broke three of his to come for you. ribs, that there is little hope of life in him: so he served the second, and so the third. Yonder they lie; the poor old man, their father, making such pitiful dole over them that all the beholders take his part with weeping.
Touch. Or as the Destinies decree.
Cel. Well said: that was laid on with a trowel.
Le Beau. You amaze me, ladies: I would have told you of good wrestling, which you have lost the sight of.
Touch. But what is the sport, monsieur, that the ladies have lost?
Le Beau. Why, this that I speak of.
Touch. Thus men may grow wiser every day: it is the first time that ever I heard breaking of ribs was sport for ladies.
Cel. Or I, I promise thee.
Ros. But is there any else longs to see th's broken music in his sides? is there yet another dotes upon rib-breaking? Shall we see this wrestling, cousin ?
Le Beau. You must, if you stay here; for here is the place appointed for the wrestling, and they are ready to perform it.
Cel. Yonder, sure, they are coming: let us now stay and see it.
Flourish. Enter Duke FREDERICK, Lords,
Duke F. Come on since the youth will not be entreated, his own peril on his forwardness, Ros. Is yonder the man?
Le Beau. Even he, madam.
Duke F. No more, no more. Cel. Alas! he is too young: yet he looks Orl. Yes, I beseech your grace: I am not yet successfully.
well breathed. Duke F. How now, daughter and cousin! are Duke F. How dost thou, Charles ? you crept hither to see the wrestling ?
Le Beau. He cannot speak, my lord. Ros. Ay, my liege, so please you give us leave. Duke F. Bear him away. What is thy name,
Duke . You will take little delight in it, I young man ? can tell you, there is such odds in the man. In Ori. Orlando, my liege; the youngest son of pity of the challenger's youth I would fain dis- Sir Rowland de Boys. suade him, but he will not be entreated. Speak Duke F. I would thou badst been son to some to him, ladies ; see if you can move him.
man else : Cel. Call him hither, good Monsieur Le Beau. The world esteem'd thy father honourable, Duke F. Do so : I'll not be by.
But I did find him still mine enemy :
Duke goes apart. Thou should’st have better pleas'd me with this Le Beau. Monsieur the challenger, the prin- deed, cesses call for you.
Hadst thou descended from another house. Orl. I attend them with all respect and duty. But fare thee well ; thou art a gallant youth:
Ros. Young man, have you challenged Charles I would thou hadst told me of another father. the wrestler
Exeunt Duke FREDERICK, Train, Orl. No, fair princess; he is the general
and LE BEAU. challenger : I come but in, as others do, to try Cd. Were I my father, coz, would I do this! with him the strength of my youth.
Orl. I am more proud to be Sir Rowland's son, Cel. Young gentleman, your spirits are too His youngest son; and would not change that bold for your years.
You have seen cruel proof calling, of this man's strength: if you saw yourself with To be arlopted heir to Frederick. your eyes or knew yourself with your judgment, Rox. My father lov'd Sir Rowland as his soul, the fear of your adventure would counsel you And all the world was of my father's mind : to a more equal enterprise. We pray you, for Had I before known this young man his son, your own sake, to embrace your own safety and I should have given him tears unto entreaties, give over this attempt.
184 Ere he should thus have ventur'd. Ros. Do, young sir : your reputation shall not Cel.
Gentle cousin, therefore be misprised. We will make it our Let us go thank him and encourage him : suit to the duke that the wrestling might not My father's rough and envious disposition go forward.
Sticks me at leart. Sir, you have well deserv'd: Orl. I beseech you, punish me not with your If you do keep your promises in love hard thoughts, wherein I confess me much guilty, But justly, as you have exceeded all promise, to deny so fair and excellent ladies any thing. Your mistress shall be happy. But let your fair eyes and gentle wishes go with Ros.
Gentleman, me to my trial : wherein if I be foiled, there is
Giving him a chain from her neck. but one shamed that was never gracious; if Wear this for me, one out of suits with fortune, killed, but one dead that is willing to be so. 1 That could give more, but that her hand lacks shall do my friends no wrong, for I have none to lament me; the world no injury, for in it I Shall we go, coz? have nothing ; only in the world I fill up a place, Cel. Ay. Fare you well, fair gentleman. which may be beiter supplied when I have made Orl. Can I not say, I thank you ? My better it empty.
parts los. The little strength that I have, I would Are all thrown down, and that which bere stands it were with you.
up Cel. And mine, to eke out hers.
Is but a quintain, a mere lifeless block. Ros. Fare you well. Pray heaven I be de- Rs. He calls us back: my pride fell with my ceived in you!
fortunes ; Cel. Your heart's desires be with you! I'll ask him what he would. Did you call, sir ?
Cha. Come, where is this young gallant that Sir, you have wrestled well, and overthrown is so desirous to lie with his mother earth ? More than your enemies. Orl. Ready, sir ; but his will hath in it a more Cel.
Will you go, coz? modest working.
Ros. Have with you. Fare you well. Duke F. You shall try but one fall.
Ereunt ROSALIND and CELIA. Cha. No, I warrant your grace, you shall not Orl. What passion hangs these weights upon entreat him to a second, that have so mightily my tongue ? persuaded him from a first.
I cannot speak to her, yet she urg'd conference. Orl. You mean to mock me after : you should () poor Orlando, thou art overthrown! not have mocked me before; but come your ways. Or Charles or something weaker masters thee.
Ros. Now Hercules be thy speed, young man !
Re-enter LE BEAT. strong fellow by the leg.
Le Beau. Good sir, I do in friendship counsel CHARLES and ORLANDO wrestle.
you Ros. O excellent young man!
22) To leave this place. Albeit you have deserv'd 30 Cel. If I had a thunderbolt in mine eye, I can High commendation, true applause and love, tell who should down.
Yet such is now the duke's coudition CHARLES is thrown. Shout. That he misconstrues all that you have done.