1

Shall we be fundred? fhall we part, sweet Girl?
No, let my father feek another heir.
Therefore devise with me, how we may fly;
Whither to go, and what to bear with us;
And do not feek to take your charge upon you,
To bear your griefs your felf, and leave me out:
For by this heav'n, now at our forrows pale,
Say what thou can'ft, I'll go along with thee.
Rof. Why, whither fhall we go?

Cel. To feek my Uncle in the foreft of Arden.
Rof. Alas, what danger will it be to us,
Maids as we are, to travel forth fo far!
Beauty provoketh thieves fooner than gold.
Cel. I'll put my self in poor and mean attire,
And with a kind of umber fmirch my face;
The like do you; fo fhall we pass along,
And never ftir affailants.

Rof. Were't not better,

Because that I am more than common tall,
That I did fuit me all points like a man?
A gallant Curtleax upon my thigh,

A boar-fpear 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 mannifh cowards have,

That do outface it with their femblances.

Cel. What fhall I call thee, when thou art a man?
Rof. I'll have no worse a name than Jove's own Page;
And therefore, look, you call me Ganimed;
But what will you be call'd?

Cel. Something that hath a reference to my ftate:
No longer Celia, but Aliena,

Which teacheth Me

for if Rofalind had learnt to think Celia one Part of her Self, She could not lack that Love which Celia complains She does. My Emendation is confirm'd by what Celia fays when She first comes upon the Stage:

Herein I fee, Thou l'ft me not with the full Weight that I love thee: &c. I could have taught my Love to take thy Father for mine; fo wouldft Thou, if the Truth of thy Love to me were so righteously temper'd as mine is to thee.

Rof.

Rof. But, Coufin, what if we affaid to steal The clownish Fool out of your father's Court? Would he not be a comfort to our travel?

Cel. 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; Devife the fittest time, and safest way To hide us from purfuit that will be made After my flight: now go we in content To Liberty, and not to Banifhment.

[Exeunt,

ACT II.

SCENE, Arden FOREST.

Enter Duke Senior, Amiens, and two or three Lords like Forefters.

N

DUKE fenior.

OW, my co-mates, and brothers in exile,

Hath not old cuftom made this life more fweet
Than That of painted Pomp? are not these
woods

More free from peril, than the envious Court?
Here feel we but the penalty of Adam, (9)
The Seasons' difference; as, the icie phang,
And churlish chiding of the winter's wind;
Which, when it bites and blows upon my body,
Even 'till I fhrink with cold, I smile, and say,

(9) Here feel we not the Penalty.] What was the Penalty of Adam, hinted at by our Poet? The being fenfible of the Difference of the Seafons. The Duke fays, the Cold and Effects of the Winter feelingly perfuade him what he is. How does he not then feel the Penalty? Doubtless, the Text must be reftor'd as I have corrected it and 'tis obvious in the Course of these Notes, how often not and but by Mistake have chang'd Place in our Author's former Editions.

This is no Flattery: these are Counsellors,
That feelingly perfuade 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 publick haunt,
Finds tongues in trees, books in the running brooks,
Sermons in ftones, and good in every thing.

Ami. I would not change it; happy is your Grace,
That can tranflate the ftubbornnefs of fortune
Into fo quiet and fo fweet a ftyle.

Duke Sen. Come, fhall we go and kill us venifon? And yet it irks me, the poor dappled fools, Being native burghers of this defart city, Should, in their own Confines, with forked heads Have their round haunches goar'd.

I Lord. Indeed, my Lord,

The melancholy Jaques grieves at that;
And in that kind fwears you do more ufurp
Than doth your brother, that hath banish'd you:
To day my Lord of Amiens, and my felf,
Did fteal behind him, as he lay along
Under an oak, whofe antique root peeps out
Upon the brook that brawls along this wood;
To the which place a poor fequeftred ftag,
That from the hunters' aim had ta'en a hurt,
Did come to languifh; and, indeed, my lord,
The wretched Animal heav'd forth fuch groans,
That their discharge did ftretch his leathern coat
Almoft to bursting, and the big round tears
Cours'd one another down his innocent nofe
In piteous chafe; and thus the hairy fool,
Much marked of the melancholy Jaques,
Stood on th' extremeft verge of the fwift brook,
Augmenting it with tears.

Duke Sen. But what faid Jaques?
Did he not moralize this fpectacle?

1 Lord. O yes, into a thousand fimilies.

Firft, for his weeping in the needless stream;
Poor Deer, quoth he, thou mak'st a testament

As

As worldlings do, giving thy fum of more
To that which had too much. Then being alone,
Left and abandon'd of his velvet friends;
'Tis right, quoth he, thus mifery doth part
The flux of company: anon a careless herd,
Full of the pasture, jumps along by him,
And never ftays to greet him: ay, quoth Jaques,
Sweep on, you fat and greafie citizens,

'Tis juft the fashion; wherefore do you look
Upon that poor and broken bankrupt there?
Thus moft invectively he pierceth through
The body of the Country, City, Court,
Yea, and of this our life; fwearing, that we
Are meer ufurpers, tyrants, and what's worse,
To fright the animals, and to kill them up
In their affign'd and native dwelling place.

Duke Sen. And did you leave him in this contemplation?

2 Lord. We did, my Lord, weeping and comment ing

Upon the fobbing deer.

Duke Sen. Show me the place;

I love to cope him in these fullen fits,

For then he's full of matter.

2 Lord, I'll bring you to him ftraight.

[Exeunt.

SCENE changes to the PALACE again.

Enter Duke Frederick with Lords.

Duke. It cannot be; fome villains of my Court

AN it be poffible, that no man faw them?

Are of consent and fufferance in this.

I Lord. I cannot hear of any that did fee her.
The ladies, her attendants of her chamber,
Saw her a-bed, and in the morning early

They found the bed untreafur'd of their mistress.

2 Lord. My Lord, the roynish Clown, at whom so oft Your Grace was wont to laugh, is alfo miffing: Hifperia, the Princefs' Gentlewoman,

Confeffes,

Confeffes, that the fecretly o'er-heard

Your Daughter and her Coufin much commend
The parts and graces of the Wrestler,
That did but lately foil the finewy Charles;
And the believes, where ever they are gone,
That Youth is furely in their company.

Duke. Send to his brother, fetch that Gallant hither:
If he be abfent, bring his brother to me,
I'll make him find him; do this fuddenly;
And let not Search and Inquifition quail
To bring again these foolish runaways.

[Exeunt.

SCENE changes to OLIVER's House.

Enter Orlando and Adam.

HO's there?

Orla.

WE

Adam. What! my young mafter? oh,my gentle mafter, Oh, my sweet mafter, O you memory

Of old Sir Rowland! why, what make you here?
Why are you virtuous? why do people love you?
And wherefore are you gentle, ftrong, and valiant?
Why would you be fo fond to overcome

The bonny Priser of the humorous Duke? (10)

(10) The bonny Prifer of the humourous Duke.] Mr. Warburton advises to read,

The boney Prifer

an Epithet more agreeing with the Wreftler, who is characteriz'd for his Bulk and Strength; not his Gaiety, Humour, or Affability. I have not disturb'd the Text, as the other Reading gives Senfe: tho there are feveral Paffages in the Play, which, in good Measure, vouch for my Friend's Conjecture. The Duke fays, fpeaking of the Difference betwixt him and Orlando;

You will take little Delight in it, I can tell you, there is fuch Odds in

the Man:

And the Princess says to Orlando ;

Young Gentleman, your Spirits are too bold for your Years: you have feen cruel Proof of this Man's Strength.

And again, when they are wrestling;

I would I were invifible, to catch the ftrong Fellow by the Leg. And in another Paffage he is characteriz'd by the Name of the finewy Charles.

Your