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Rol. The Duke

my

father lov'd his father dearly.
Cel. Doth it therefore ensue, that you should love his
fort dearly ; by this kind of chase, I should hate him ;
for my father hated his father dearly ; yet I hate not
Orlando.

Ref. No, faith, hate him not, for my fake.
Cel. Why should I ? doth he not deserve well :

Enter Duke, with Lords.

Rof. Let me love him for that; and do

you

love him, because I do. Look, here comes the Duke.

Cel. With his eyes full of anger.

Duke. Mistress, dispatch you with your fafeft hafte, And get you from our court.

Rof. Me, uncle !

Dake. You, cousin,
Within these ten days if that thou be'st found
So near our publick court as twenty miles,
Thou dieft for it.

Ros. I do beseech your Grace,
Let me the knowledge of my fault bear with me:
lf with my self I hold intelligence,
Or have acquaintance with my own desires ;
If that I do not dream, or be not frantick,
(As I do truft, I am not,) then, dear uncle,
Never so much as in a thought unborn
Did I offend your Highness.

Duke. Thus do all traitors ;
If their purgation did consist in words,
They are as innocent as grace itself:
Let it suffice thee, that I trust thee not.

Rof. Yet your miftrutt cannot make me a traitor ;
Tell me wherein the likelihood depends.

Duke. Thou art thy father's daughter, there's enough.

Ros. So was I, when your Highness took his dukedom;
So was I, when your Highness banish'd him;
Treason is not inherited, my lord;
Or if we did derive it from our friends,
What's that to me? my father-was no traitor :

Then,

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Then, good my liege, mittake me not so much,
To think my poverty is treacherous.

Cel. Dear Sovereign, hear me speak,

Duke. Ay, Celia, we but Ataid her for your sake;
Else had the with her father rang'd along.

Cel. I did not then entreat to have her ftay ;
It was your pleasure, and your own remorse;
I was too young that time to value her ;
But now I know her ; if Me be a traitot,
Why so am I; we still have slept together,
Rose at an instant, learn'd, play'd, eat together ;
And wherefoe'er we went, like Juno's fwans,
Still we went coupled, and inseparable.

Duke. She is too subtle før thee; and her smoothness,
Her very filence and her patience,
Speak to the people, and they pity her :
Thou art a fool; she robs thee of thy name,
And thou wilt show more bright, and seem more virtuous,
When she is gone ; then open not thy lips :
Firm and irrevocable is my doom,
Which I have pass'd upon her, she is banish’d.

Cel. Pronounce that sentence then on me, my liege; I cannot live out of her company.

Duke. You are a fool : you, niece, provide yourself ; If you out-stay the time, upon mine honour, And in the greatness of my word, you die.

[Exeunt Duke, Esc. Cel. O my poor Rosalind; where wilt thou go? Wilt thou change fathers ! I will give thee mine : I charge thee, be not thou more griev'd than I am.

Roj. I have more cause.

Cel. Thou hast not, cousin;
Priythee, be cheerful; know'lt thou not, the Duke
Has banish'd me his daugher?

Ro'. That he hath not.
Cel. No ? hath not? (3) Rosalind lacks then the love,

Which (3) Rosalind lacks tben the Love,

Which teacketb thee that i hou and I am one. Tho' this be the Reading of all the printed Copies, 'tis evident, the Poet wrote ;

Which teacheth me that thou and I am one:
Shail we be sundred ? fhall 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 yourself, and leave me out :
For by this beav'n, now at our sorrows pale,
Say what thou canst, I'll go along with thee.
Roj

: 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 myself in poor and mean attire,
And with a kind of umber smirch my face;
The like do you; fo shall we pass along,
And hever ftir afsailants.

Rof. Were't not better,
Because that I am more than common tall,
That I did fuit me all points like a man i
A gallant Curtle ax 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 fivathing and a 'martial outfide,
As many other mannish Cowards have,
That do outface it with their semblances,

Cel. What shall I call thee, when thou art a man!

Ref. 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 state : No longer Celia, but Aliena.

Which teacherb Me for if Rosalind had learn’d 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 Staze.

Rof.

Ros. But, Cousin, 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;
Devise the firtest time, and safett way
To hide us from pursuit that will be made
After my fight: now go we in content
To Liberty, and not to Banishment.

[Exeunt. BrossesDesk

ACT II. SCENE, Arden FOREST. Enter Duke Senior, Amiens, and two or three Lords

like Forefters.

DUK Senior
OW, my co mates, and brothers in exile,

Hath not old custom made this life more sweet
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, (4)
The Seasons' difference; as, the icy 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,
This is no Flattery : these are Counsellors,
That feelingly persuade me what I am.

2

NI

(4) 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 says, 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 reitor'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.

Sweet

Sweet are the uses of Adversity,
Which, like the coad, ugly and venomous,
Wears yet a precious jewel in his head :
And this our life, exempt from public haunt,
Finds tongues in trees, books in the running brooks,
Sermons in itones, and good in every thing.

Ami. I would not change it; happy is your Grace,
That can translate the stubbornness 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 defert city,
Should in their own Conínes, with forked heads
Have their round haunches goar’d.

i Lord. Indeed, my Lord,
The melancholy Faques grieves at that ;
And in that kind swears you do more ufurp
Than doth your brother, thar hath banith d you :
To day my Lord of Amiens, and inyself,
Did ftéal behind him,' as he lay along
Under an oak, whose 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 languidh; 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' extremelt verge of the swift brook,
Augmenting it with tears.

Duke Sen. But what faid 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

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