'the fury of the tiger; and the most piercing sorrow in juxtaposition with untranslat 'able conceits of reckless license.' George Sand, therefore, deemed it neither a 'profanation nor an outrage to clothe this Colossus in borrowed garments—rather it is 'a homage, rendered to the impossibility of finding robes of modern French fashion sufficiently grand and majestic for him.'

It would be easy enough to be flippant and to make merry over the cut of the very modern French garments in which George Sand has here clothed the characters of As You Like It. To her, as to the Germans, the wit and charm of heavenly Rosalind are lost; the melancholy Jaques fascinates her, and he becomes the hero of the play, far eclipsing all the rest. The treatment of such a comedy by such a woman, in our own day, presents so curious a problem that it is, I think, well worth while to ponder over a sketch, at least, of her version.

We must bear in mind that in this adaptation George Sand is simply what her public made her. She merely interprets the demands of the day and speaks to French ears. Under this inspiration, let us trust, rather than under what is genuinely her own, the Forest of Arden is transformed into the Faubourg Saint-Germain.

In the opening scene, which is laid on a lawn before the Ducal Paiace, with the ring prepared for the wrestling, Orlando declares to Adam his determination to stay and see the games and the court, but, above all, the fair Rosalind; Oliver enters and a quarrel ensues, wherein some of Shakespeare's phrases are used, such as Orlando's demand for his patrimony and reproaches for his ill-treatment. Oliver calls Orlando 'jeune drôle,' and threatens him with a switch, which the younger brother snatches and flings away, but which Adam picks up and respectfully returns to Oliver, who calls him, as is in the original, 'old dog,' and goes out leaving Orlando in tears. Jaques, who had entered during the quarrel and been a silent spectator, now comes forward and asks for an explanation of the scene from Adam, with the suggestion that it may have been a rehearsal for the games at hand;-this, Orlando resents, and at last demands who Jaques is: 'Qui je suis?' replies the latter, 'Hélas! un homme bien las de l'être.' 'Si vous avez le spleen,' rejoins Orlando, 'ne dégoûtez pas les jeunes gens de vivre.' After some bitter comments by Jaques on that style of 'living,' Orlando departs, having expressed his determination to try a fall with the champion Charles. Adam then reveals to Jaques that he has recognised him as an old adherent of the banished Duke, and begs to know if a place could be found at the banished Duke's court for Orlando. Before this point is settled Rosalind, Celia, and some pages enter, and Adam and Jaques retire. Celia begs Rosalind to be gay, but the latter explains her melancholy by revealing her suspicions that her uncle by his recent illtreatment of her intends shortly to banish her. Celia assures Rosalind that when the succession to the throne falls to her she will restore it all again to Rosalind; Oh! j'en fais le serment,' she adds, 'et, si j'y manque, puissé-je devenir un monstre de laideur!' Touchstone enters (here called Pierre Touchard), and the original is somewhat followed in the story of the knight and the pancakes, but before it is finished Rosalind catches sight of Jaques and Adam at the back, and gazes intently at Jaques, of whose features she has a dim memory. Adam kisses Jaques's hand and retires; Jaques comes forward, and asks Touchstone which of the two ladies is the daughter of the Duke. Celia advances and replies:

Je suis la fille du duc qui règne. (Montrant Rosalinde.) Elle est la fille de celui qui devrait régner.

Jacques. Madame, vous dites plus vrai peut-être que vous ne pensez.

Celia (étonnée de la brusquerie de Jacques). Ah! ami, que ne prends-tu le bonnet de ce fou? Tu sembles fait pour le porter!

Jacques. Je sais qu'à la cour, il faut porter ce bonnet pour dire la vérité. (A Rosalinde, en allant à elle.) Madame, je vous apporte des nouvelles de votre père. Rosalinde. Mon père! Ah! parlez vite! et parlez beaucoup !

Jacques. Il m'a chargé de vous dire qu'il vous souhaitait un printemps aussi vert que sa vieillesse.

Rosalinde (allant à Célia.) Embrasse-moi, chère Célia, et Dieu soit loué! (A Jacques.) Est-il toujours dans son château des Ardennes, et compte-t-il y rester encore ?

Jaques is able to assure Rosalind that her father is contented and happy; and then becomes himself the object of the ladies' curiosity. Je ne suis plus ce que j'étais,' he says, ' ne me cherchez pas dans vos souvenirs; mon nom a changé de sens comme tout le reste. Autrefois, ici, j'étais pour tous Jacques le viveur et le magnifique; aujourd'hui, on m'appelle, là-bas, Jacques le rêveur et le solitaire.' He promises to carry a letter from Rosalind to her father, and Celia, as she retires, says of him: Son œil est encore vif et beau; mais sa bouche est une tombe où le sourire est enseveli.' While Jaques is waiting for this letter he overhears Oliver and Charles plotting the death of Orlando at the wrestling, and has time only to warn Adam of it before the Duke and his court enter and take their places to witness the games, and Rosalind gives Jaques the letter. Orlando, despite Adam's agonised entreaties, insists upon wrestling, and is of course victorious. The Duke is angered at hearing his name. Rosalind gives him a chain. The Duke recognises Jaques, and trembles. After the games are over, and Celia, Rosalind, and Jaques are in conversation, Touchstone enters hastily and announces that the Duke's suspicion against Rosalind is again aroused, and that, having marked her interest in Orlando, and detected her in giving a letter to Jaques, is convinced that she is in a conspiracy against him, and that he has therefore banished her. The First Act closes with the resolution of Celia and Rosalind to fly to the Forest of Ardennes under the escort of Jaques and of Touchstone, whose thoughts, by the way, are always engrossed by eating and drinking. The Second Act opens in the Forest of Ardennes with the Duke, Amiens, and lords. A fire is lit at the back for an improvised kitchen, and valets are unpacking hampers and dishes.

Le Duc. Voici le lieu choisi pour notre halte. (A ses gens.) Amis, servez-nous la collation sous ces arbres. (Aux seigneurs.) Si Jacques revient aujourd'hui, il saura nous retrouver ici. Puissé-je recevoir aujourd'hui des nouvelles de ma fille chérie et revoir la figure d'un ami fidèle! Et vous, mes frères, mes compagnons d'exil, ne vous tarde-t-il point d'entendre soupirer ou gronder notre philosophe mélancholique?.... Pour moi, plus il me gourmande, plus il m'intéresse, et c'est dans ses plus grands accès de misanthropie que je trouve du profit à l'entendre. J'aime alors à le contredire et à le critiquer pour l'obliger à parler davantage; car, au fond de ses récriminations contre le genre humain, je vois toujours briller l'amour du vrai et la haine du mal, comme les claires étoiles derrière les nouages sombres.'

Audrey appears bringing in 'le lait de ses brebis et les fruits de son verger,' whereupon the Duke is touched and thus addresses her: 'Sois toujours la bienvenue, ma pauvre enfant! Ma fille est à peu près de son âge; mais combien je me la représente plus grande et plus belle!' Touchstone enters, much to Audrey's alarm, and while demanding to have the Duke pointed out to him falls to eating whatever he can lay

his hands on. At last he takes an apple with the remark: 'Je prends cette pomme pour philosopher sur le destin de l'homme. Ce fruit n'est-il pas son image? Que faisait cette pomme sur son arbre, et que va-t-elle devenir si je ne la mange? (♫ mords dans la pomme.) C'est ainsi que, d'heure en heure, nous mûrissons, merrissons; et puis d'heure en heure, nous pourrissons, pourrissons, jusqu'à ce que la mort nous croque et que la terre nous avale.'

Jaques enters with Rosalind, clad as a young boy. 'Jacques !' exclaims the Duke, 'et ma fille? ma fille ?

Jacques. Voici une lettre d'elle.

Le Duc. Une lettre ?

Jacques Vous attendiez-vous donc à la revoir?

....

Le Duc (ouvrant la lettre). Helas! non .... Si elle est heureuse, qu'elle reste où elle est bien !

Jacques (à Rosalinde, qui est restée loin derrière lui, à mi-voix). Approchez.... et parlez-lui avec précaution.

Rosalinde. Ah! je ne saurais lui parler!

Le Duc (lisant la littre). Elle espère qu'un jour on lui permettra. . . .. Ah! si j'étais moins vieux, j'aurais plus de patience. (A Rosalinde, qui met un genou en terre devant lui.) Que veux-tu mon enfant ? Es-tu le fils ou le petit-fils de quelque ami de ma jeunesse ? Et, pour cela, on te persécute peut-être à la cour de mon frère? (Jacques fait un signe affirmatif.) Si tu cherches un refuge auprès de moi, sois le bienvenu. Mais ne compte pas faire ici une brillante carrière. Nous avons perdu la pompe de notre rang et trouvé une vie plus rude pour le corps, plus saine pour l'âme. Ces bois nous offrent moins de dangers que les palais, séjour de l'envie. Ici, nous n'avons à subir que la peine infligée à notre premier père, le changement des saisons et la nécessité de devoir notre nourriture aux fatigues de la chasse; mais, brûlé par le soleil ou surpris par la tempête, je souris parfois en me disant: “Il n'y a point ici de flatteurs, car voilà des conseillers qui me font sentir qu'un prince est un homme, et un homme est bien peu de chose!...." Mais pourquoi pleures-tu, mon enfant ? car je sens tes larmes sur mes mains! Mon sort t'effraye, et tu regrettes d'être venu le partager?

Rosalinde. Ah! je veux vivre près de vous, monseigneur; ne me renvoyez pas! Jacques (souriant). Gardez-le près de vous; il vous servira bien.

Le Duc. J'y consens; mais qu'il me dise son nom et me montre son visage. (Rosalinde se relève. Il la regarde avec émotion. Elle n'y peut tenir et se jette dans ses bras.)

Rosalinde. Ah! mon père! c'est moi!

Le Duc Ma fille, ma Rosalinde! sous ce déguisement! (Surprise et movement général.)

Rosalinde. La crainte de vous surprendre trop vite me l'avait fait prendre en

voyage.

There is general rejoicing, which is restrained within due bounds by Jaques, who repeats, as the sum of his travels, the Seven Ages. Orlando breaks in, demanding food for himself and Adam pretty much as in Shakespeare. Rosalind speaks to him, and in an aside Orlando exclaims, 'O puissances célestes! Rosalinde!' but, aloud, addresses Rosalind as 'Monsieur,' who in turn, in an aside, says sadly, 'Je croyais qu'il m'aurait reconnue!' While still in doubt as to the reception which the exiled Duke would give to his niece, Celia, the daughter of his enemy, it is considered advisable to keep Celia in concealment in an old castle belonging to Jaques. Much

time is now devoted to the conversion of Jaques from a misanthrope to a jealous lover of Celia In the midst of a conversation between Jaques, Celia, Rosalind, and Orlando, in which Rosalind, still in a page's dress, endeavours in vain to make Orlando tell the name of his love, Touchstone enters hastily, crying to them to save themselves and fly. In the attempt to comply they are met face to face by Charles the wrestler, who at the head of une petite escorte de Gens Armés' has been sent by Duke Frederick to bring back his daughter. Out of complaisance to Orlando, his former antagonist and vanquisher, Charles chivalrously and gallantly declines to seize Celia, and, with a grace snatched beyond the bounds of truth, tells his soldiers that the object of their search is not present, and then retires.

6

The first two or three Scenes of the Third Act are taken up with the love-making of Touchstone, Audrey, and William, with Jaques as the guide, philosopher and friend of all parties. Jaques manifests his increasing devotion to Celia by his exertions to furbish up his old mansion, and while thus occupied Orlando begs his aid in correcting some love-verses which he had composed, beginning: Bonnes gens, oyez la merveille! L'Amour, petit comme une abeille, Est venu cacher dans mon cœur Et son venin et sa douceur,' &c. Celia enters, and by her coquetry with Orlando so stirs Jaques's jealousy that nothing less than an appeal to the duello will satisfy Jaques, convinced as he now is that Orlando's verses were intended for Celia, who in vain tries to allay the storm Rosalind enters, and at a word from her Orlando sheaths his sword; thereupon Jaques does the like, but Orlando is still too bashful to acknowledge that the verses were meant for Rosalind. The Duke enters and announces that his brother has repented and restored to him his dominions. Celia salutes Rosalind as 'ma princesse, ma souveraine! Je te vais prêter foi et hommage! mais tu permettras.... (elle fait signe Roland) qu'un de ses amis prenne place à tes genoux.' Hereupon the Duke interferes, and in severe tones expresses his doubts as to Orlando's honesty, and commands Oliver to approach, who accuses Orlando and old Adam of robbing him of a sum of money before they left home, and of having threatened his life. Old Adam swears that the money was his own, and Jaques testifies to the plot on Orlando's life which he overheard Oliver and Charles devise. Thereupon, the Duke commands Oliver to be thrown from a high rock; a fine chance is now given to Orlando to show his magnanimity in pleading for his brother's life; and he improves it. Oliver is pardoned. Rosalind is given to Orlando. William eclipses Touchstone and carries off Audrey. Jaques declares that he will not leave the forest, but will bid them all farewell-he cannot follow them. Thereupon, Celia, who is left alone with Jaques, gently confesses that her heart is his :

Jacques. Célia!.... Non! vous raillez! je ne suis plus jeune !....

Célia, Aimez-vous ?

Jacques. Je suis pauvre, triste, mécontent de toutes choses.....

Célia. Vous n'aimez donc pas ?

Jacques (transporté). Ah! tenez! vous avez raison! Je suis jeune, je suis riche, je suis gai, je suis heureux. Oui, oui, le firmament s'embrase là-haut et la terre fleurit ici-bas! Je respire avec l'amour une vie nouvelle, et mes yeux s'ouvrent à la véritié! Qui? moi, mélancholique? Non! je ne suis pas un impie! Le ciel est bon, les hommes sont doux, le monde est un jardin de délices et la femme est l'ange du pardon.... (il tombe à ses pieds), si je ne rêve pas que vous m'aimez !

Célia. Il doute encore! . . . . Jacques, par les roses du printemps, par la virginité des lis, par la jeunesse, par la foi, par l'honneur, je vous aime! vous me quitter? A présent, voulez

Jacques. Non, jamais! car je t'aime aussi ! Oh! la plus belle parole que l'homme puisse dire: Je t'aime! . . . .

Célia. Eh bien, puisque mon père n'est plus ni riche ni puissant. . . . puisque, grâce au ciel, je puis être à vous, . . . . suis-moi!

FIN DE COMME IL VOUS PLAIRA.

ACTORS

BOADEN (Memoirs of Mrs Siddons, 1827, vol. ii, p. 166): The Rosalind of As You Like It had been a favourite character of MRS SIDDONS on theatres nearer to the Forest of Arden; and for her second benefit this season [1785] she ventured to appear upon the London stage in a dress which more strongly reminded the spectator of the sex which she had laid down than that which she had taken up..... Rosalind was one of the most delicate achievements of MRS SIDDONS. The common objection to her comedy, that it was only the smile of tragedy, made the express charm of Rosalind,— her vivacity is understanding, not buoyant spirits, she closes her brilliant assaults upon others with a smothered sigh for her own condition. She often appears to my recollection addressing the successful Orlando by the beautiful discrimination of Shakespeare's feelings: 'Gentleman, Wear this for me,' &c., I, ii, 241; ‘Orlando' had been familiar, ‘young man' now coarse. And, on the discovery that modesty kept even his encouraged merit silent, the graceful farewell faintly articulated was such a style of comedy as could come only from a spirit tenderly touched..... MRS SIDDONS put so much soul into all the raillery of Ganymede as really to cover the very boards of the stage. She seemed indeed brought up by a deep magician, and to be forest born. But the return to the habiliments of Rosalind was attended with that bappy supplement to the poet's language, where the same terms are applied to different personages, and the meaning is expanded by the discrimination of look, and tone, and action, To you I give myself, for I am YOURS.'

CAMPBELL (Life of Mrs Siddons, 1834, vol. ii, p. 68): The new character which she performed [30 April, 1785] was that of Rosalind. After a successful transition from the greatest to the gentlest parts of tragedy, it would have been but one step further, in the versatility of genius, to have been at home in the enchanting Rosalind; and as the character, though comic, is not broadly so, and is as romantic and poetical as anything in tragedy, I somewhat grudgingly confess my belief that her performance of it, though not a failure, scems to have fallen equally short of a triumph. It appears that she played the part admirably in some particulars. But, altogether, Rosalind's character has a gay and feathery lightness of spirits which one can easily imagine more difficult for MRS SIDDONS to assume than the tragic meekness of Desdemona. In As You Like It Rosalind is the soul of the piece; aided only by the Clown (and, oh that half the so-called wise were as clever as Shakespeare's clowns!), she has to redeem the wildness of a forest and the dulness of rustic life. Her wit and beauty have to throw a sunshine in the shady place.' Abate but a spark of her spirit, and we should become, in the forest scenes, as melancholy and moralising as Jaques. Shakespeare's Rosalind, therefore, requires the gayest and archest representative. In a letter from Mr Young, which I have before me, he says, 'Her Rosalind wanted neither playfulness nor feminine softness; but it