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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 ons,
Cel. I could match this beginning with an old tale.
Le Beau. Three proper young men, of excellent growth and presence;
Ros. With bills on their necks,- Be 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 a moment threw him, and broke three of his 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. But what is the sport, monsieur, that the ladies have lost?
Le Beau. Why, this that I speak of.
Touch. Thus men may grow viser every day! it is the first time that ever I hear'd, breaking of ribs was sport for ladies.
Cel. Or I, I promise thee.
Ros. But is there any else longs to see this broken musick 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, Orlando,
Charles, and Attendants. Duke F. Come on; since the youth will not be entreated, his own peril on his forwardness.
Ros. Is yonder the man?
Cel. Alas, he is too young: yet he looks successfully.
Duke F. How now, daughter, and cousin? are you crept hither to see the wrestling?
Ros. Ay, my liege; so please you give us leave.
Duke F. You will take little delight in it, I can tell you, there is such odds in the men: 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.
Cel. Call him hither, good Monsieur Le Beau. Duke F. Do so; I'll not be by.
[Duke goes apart. Le Beau. Monsieur the challenger, the princesses call for you.
Orl. I attend them, with all respect and duty.
Ros. Young man, have you challenged Charles the wrestler?
Orl. No, fair princess; he is the general challenger: I come but in, as others do, to try with him the strength of my youth.
Cel. 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 judgment, 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.
Ros. Do, young sir; your reputation shall not therefore be misprised: we will make it our suit to ' the duke, that the wrestling might not go forward.
Orl. I beseech you, punish me not with your hard thoughts; wherein I confess me much guilty, to deny so fair and excellent ladies any thing. 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.
Ros. The little strength that I have, I would it were with you.
Cel. And mine, to eke out hers.
Cel. Your heart's desires be with you!
Cha. Come, where is this young gallant, that is so desirous to lie with his mother earth?
Orl. Ready, sir; but his will hath in it a more modest working
Duke F. You shall try but one fall.
Cha. No, I warrant your grace; you shall not entreat him to a second, that have so mightily persuaded him from a first.
Ori. You mean to mock me after; you should not have mocked me before: but come your ways.
Ros. Vow, Hercules be thy speed, young man!
Cel. I would I were invisible, to catch the strong fellow by the leg. Charles and Orlando wrestle.
Ros. O excellent young man!
Cel. If I had a thunderbolt in mine eye, I can tell who should down. [Charles is thrown. Shout.
Duke F. No more, no more.
Orl. Yes, I beseech your grace; I am not yet well breathed.
Duke F. How dost thou, Charles?
Duke F. Bear him away. (Charles is borne out.] What is thy name, young man?
Orl. Orlando, my liege; the youngest son of sir Rowland de Bois. Duke F. 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 Fred. Train, and Le Beau. Cel. Were I my father, coz, would I do this? Orl. I am more proud to be sir Rowland's son,
His youngest son;—and would not change that
Ros. My father lov'd sir Rowland as his soul,
[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?
Cel. Ay:-Fare you well, fair gentleman.
Orl. 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. Ros. 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. Cel.
Will you go, cozi