id="id00139"> Le Beu. I wil tell you the beginning: and if it please your Ladiships, you may see the end, for the best is yet to doe, and heere where you are, they are comming to performe it

Cel. Well, the beginning that is dead and buried

Le Beu. There comes an old man, and his three sons

Cel. I could match this beginning with an old tale

   Le Beu. Three proper yong men, of excellent growth
and presence

   Ros. With bils on their neckes: Be it knowne vnto
all men by these presents

Le Beu. The eldest of the three, wrastled with Charles the Dukes Wrastler, which Charles in a moment threw him, and broke three of his ribbes, that there is little hope of life in him: So he seru'd the second, and so the third: yonder they lie, the poore old man their Father, making such pittiful dole ouer them, that all the beholders take his part with weeping

Ros. Alas

   Clo. But what is the sport Monsieur, that the Ladies
haue lost?
  Le Beu. Why this that I speake of

Clo. Thus men may grow wiser euery day. It is the first time that euer I heard breaking of ribbes was sport for Ladies

Cel. Or I, I promise thee

Ros. But is there any else longs to see this broken Musicke in his sides? Is there yet another doates vpon rib-breaking? Shall we see this wrastling Cosin? Le Beu. You must if you stay heere, for heere is the place appointed for the wrastling, and they are ready to performe it

Cel. Yonder sure they are comming. Let vs now stay and see it.

Flourish. Enter Duke, Lords, Orlando, Charles, and Attendants.

  Duke. Come on, since the youth will not be intreated
His owne perill on his forwardnesse

   Ros. Is yonder the man?
  Le Beu. Euen he, Madam

   Cel. Alas, he is too yong: yet he looks successefully
  Du. How now daughter, and Cousin:
Are you crept hither to see the wrastling?
  Ros. I my Liege, so please you giue vs leaue

Du. You wil take little delight in it, I can tell you there is such oddes in the man: In pitie of the challengers youth, I would faine disswade him, but he will not bee entreated. Speake to him Ladies, see if you can mooue him

Cel. Call him hether good Monsieuer Le Beu

Duke. Do so: Ile not be by

Le Beu. Monsieur the Challenger, the Princesse cals for you

Orl. I attend them with all respect and dutie

   Ros. Young man, haue you challeng'd Charles the
Wrastler?
  Orl. No faire Princesse: he is the generall challenger,
I come but in as others do, to try with him the strength
of my youth

Cel. Yong Gentleman, your spirits are too bold for your yeares: you haue seene cruell proofe of this mans strength, if you saw your selfe with your eies, or knew your selfe with your iudgment, the feare of your aduenture would counsel you to a more equall enterprise. We pray you for your owne sake to embrace your own safetie, and giue ouer this attempt

Ros. Do yong Sir, your reputation shall not therefore be misprised: we wil make it our suite to the Duke, that the wrastling might not go forward

Orl. I beseech you, punish mee not with your harde thoughts, wherein I confesse me much guiltie to denie so faire and excellent Ladies anie thing. But let your faire eies, and gentle wishes go with mee to my triall; wherein if I bee foil'd, there is but one sham'd that was neuer gracious: if kil'd, but one dead that is willing to be so: I shall do my friends no wrong, for I haue none to lament me: the world no iniurie, for in it I haue nothing: onely in the world I fil vp a place, which may bee better supplied, when I haue made it emptie

Ros. The little strength that I haue, I would it were with you

Cel. And mine to eeke out hers

Ros. Fare you well: praie heauen I be deceiu'd in you

Cel. Your hearts desires be with you

   Char. Come, where is this yong gallant, that is so
desirous to lie with his mother earth?
  Orl. Readie Sir, but his will hath in it a more modest
working

Duk. You shall trie but one fall

Cha. No, I warrant your Grace you shall not entreat him to a second, that haue so mightilie perswaded him from a first

Orl. You meane to mocke me after: you should not haue mockt me before: but come your waies

Ros. Now Hercules, be thy speede yong man

Cel. I would I were inuisible, to catch the strong fellow by the legge.

Wrastle.

Ros. Oh excellent yong man

Cel. If I had a thunderbolt in mine eie, I can tell who should downe.

Shout.

Duk. No more, no more

   Orl. Yes I beseech your Grace, I am not yet well
breath'd

   Duk. How do'st thou Charles?
  Le Beu. He cannot speake my Lord

   Duk. Beare him awaie:
What is thy name yong man?
  Orl. Orlando my Liege, the yongest sonne of Sir Roland
de Boys

   Duk. I would thou hadst beene son to some man else,
The world esteem'd thy father honourable,
But I did finde him still mine enemie:
Thou should'st haue better pleas'd me with this deede,
Hadst thou descended from another house:
But fare thee well, thou art a gallant youth,
I would thou had'st told me of another Father.

Exit Duke.

  Cel. Were I my Father (Coze) would I do this?
  Orl. I am more proud to be Sir Rolands sonne,
His yongest sonne, and would not change that calling
To be adopted heire to Fredricke

   Ros. My Father lou'd Sir Roland as his soule,
And all the world was of my Fathers minde,
Had I before knowne this yong man his sonne,
I should haue giuen him teares vnto entreaties,
Ere he should thus haue ventur'd

   Cel. Gentle Cosen,
Let vs goe thanke him, and encourage him:
My Fathers rough and enuious disposition
Sticks me at heart: Sir, you haue well deseru'd,
If you doe keepe your promises in loue;
But iustly as you haue exceeded all promise,
Your Mistris shall be happie

   Ros. Gentleman,
Weare this for me: one out of suites with fortune
That could giue more, but that her hand lacks meanes.
Shall we goe Coze?
  Cel. I: fare you well faire Gentleman

   Orl. Can I not say, I thanke you? My better parts
Are all throwne downe, and that which here stands vp
Is but a quintine, a meere liuelesse blocke

   Ros. He cals vs back: my pride fell with my fortunes,
Ile aske him what he would: Did you call Sir?
Sir, you haue wrastled well, and ouerthrowne
More then your enemies

   Cel. Will you goe Coze?
  Ros. Haue with you: fare you well.
Enter.

  Orl. What passion hangs these waights vpo[n] my toong?
I cannot speake to her, yet she vrg'd