« ПредишнаНапред »
Shall we be sundred? shall we part, sweet Girl?
No, let my father seek another heir.
Therefore devise with me, how we may fly;
Whither to go, and what to bear with us;
And do not seek to take your charge upon you,
To bear your griefs your self, and leave me out:
For by this heav'n, now at our sorrows pale,
Say what thou can'ft, I'll go along with thee.
Ref. Why, whither shall we go?
Cel. To seek my Uncle in the forest of Arden.
Rof. Alas, what danger will it be to us,
Maids as we are, to travel forth so far!
Beauty provoketh thieves sooner than gold.
Cel. I'll put my self in poor and mean attire,
And with a kind of umber smirch my face;
The like do you ; so shall we pass along,
And neyer stir assailants.
Rof. Were't not better,
Because that I am more than common tall,
That I did suit me all points like a man?
A gallant Curtleax upon my thigh,
A boar-spear 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 mannish cowards have,
That do outface it with their semblances.
Cel. What shall 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 callid ?
Cel. Something that hath a reference to my ftate; No longer Celia, but Aliena,
Which teacheth Me for if Rosalird 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 says when She first comes upon the Stage.
Herein I fee, Thou lov'A me not with the full Weight that I love thee: &c. 'I could have taught my Love to take thy Father for mine ; , woulds. Thou, if the Truth of thy Love to me were so righteously temper'd as mine is to thee.
Rof. But, Cousin, what if we assaid 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 ;
Deyife the fittest time, and fafest way
To hide us from pursuit that will be made
After my flight: now go we in content
To Liberty, and not to Banishment. [Exeunt,
Enter Duke Senior, Amiens, and two or three Lords
OW, my co-mates, and brothers.in exile,
Hath not old custom made this life more fweet
Than That of painted Pomp? are not these
More free from peril, than the envious Court?
Here feel we but the penalty of Adam, ()
The Seasons' difference; as, the icic phang,
And churlish chiding of the winter's wind;
Which, when it bites and blows upon my body,
Even 'till I shrink 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 Seasons. The Duke fays, the Cold and Effects of the Winter feelingly persuade him what he is. How does he not then feel the Penalty? Doubtless, the Text must be restor'd as I have corrected it : and 'ris 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 persuade 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 stones, and good in every thing.
Ami. I would not change it; happy is your Grace,
That can translate the stubbornnefs of fortune
Into so quiet and so sweet a style.
Duke Sen. Come, shall we go and kill us venison?
And yet it irks me, the poor dappled fools,
Being native burghers of this desart 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 swears you do more usurp,
Than doth your brother, that hath banith'd you:
To day my Lord of Amiens, and my self,
Did steal behind him, as he lay along
Under an oak, whose antique root peeps
Upon the brook that brawls along this wood
To the which place a poor sequestred stag,
That from the hunters' aim had ta'en a hurt,
Did come to languish ; and, indeed, my lord,
The wretched Animal heav'd forth such groans,
That their discharge did stretch his leathern coat
Almost to bursting, and the big round tears
Cours'd one another down his innocent nose
In piteous chase; and thus the hairy fool,
Much marked of the melancholy Jaques,
Stood on th' extremest verge of the swift brook,
Augmenting it with tears.
Duke Sen. But what said Jaques ?
Did he not moralize this spectacle?
I Lord. O yes, into a thousand fimilies. First, for his weeping in the needless stream ; Poor Deer, quoth he, thou mak'ít a testament
As worldlings do, giving thy sum of more
To that which had too much. Then being alone,
Left and abandon'd of his velvet friends;
'Tis right, quoth he, thus misery doth part
The flux of company: anon a careless herd,
Full of the pasture, jumps along by him,
And never stays to greet him: ay, quoth Jaques,
Sweep on, you fat and greasie citizens,
'Tis just the fashion; wherefore do you look
Upon that poor and broken bankrupt there?
Thus most invectively he pierceth through
The body of the Country, City, Court,
Yea, and of this our life; swearing, that we
Are meer usurpers, tyrants, and what's worse,
To fright the animals, and to kill them up
In their assign'd and native dwelling place.
Duke Sen. And did you leave him in this contem-
plation? 2 Lord. We did, my Lord, weeping and comment
Upon the sobbing deer.
Duke Sen. Show me the place;
I love to cope him in these sullen fits,
For then he's full of matter.
2 Lord, I'll bring you to him straight. [Exeunt.
SCEN E changes to the Palace again.
Enter Duke Frederick with Lords.
Duke. C A cannot be ; Tome villains of my Court
AN it be possible, that no man faw them? Are of consent and sufferance in this.
i Lord. I cannot hear of any that did see her.
The ladies, her attendants of her chamber,
Saw her a-bed, and in the morning early
They found the bed untreasur’d of their mistress.
2 Lord. My Lord, the roynish Clown, at whom so oft Your Grace was wont to laugh, is also missing: Hisperia, the Princess' Gentlewoman,
Confesses, thát she secretly o'er-heard
Your Daughter and her Cousin much commend
The parts and graces of the Wrestler,
That did but lately foil the finewy Charles ;
And she believes, where ever they are gone,
That Youth is surely in their company.
Duke. Send to his brother, fetch that Gallant hither :
If he be absent, bring his brother to me,
I'll make him find him; do this suddenly ;
And let not Search and Inquisition quail
To bring again these foolish runaways. [Exeunt.
SCENE changes to Oliver's House.
Enter Orlando and Adam,
Orla. HO's there?
Adam. What! my young
Oh, my sweet matter, 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, strong, and valiant?
Why would you be so fond to overcome
The bonny Priser of the humorous Duke? (10)
(10) The bonny Priser of the humourous Duke.] Mr. Warburton advises to read,
The boney Priser an Epithet more agreeing with the Wrestler, who is characteriza for his Bulk and Strength; not his Gaiety, Humour, or Affability. I have not disturb’d the Text, as the other Reading gives Sense: tho there are several Passages in the Play, which, in good Measure, vouch for my Friend's Conjecture. The Duke fays, speaking of the Difference betwixt him and Orlando ;
You will take little Delight in it, I can tell you, there is such Odds in the Man: And the Princess says to Orlando ;
Young Gentleman, your Spirits are too bold for your Years: you have seen cruel Proof of this Man's Strength. And again, when they are wrestling;
I would I were invisible, to catch the strong Fellow by the Leg. And in another Passage he is characteriz’d by the Name of the finewy Charles.