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SCENE changes to an Apartment in the
Re-enter Celia and Rosaliad.
mercy' ; not a 'word!
Cel. No, thy words are too precious to be cast away upon curs, throw some of them at me ; come, lame me with reasons.
Rof. Then there were two coufins laid up, when the one Thould be lam'd with reasons, and the other mad without any:
Cel. But is all this for your father?
Cel. They are but burs, cousin, thrown upon thee in holiday foolery ; if we walk not in the trodden paths, our very petticoats will catch them.
Rof. I could shake them off my coat; these burs are in my heart.
Cel. Hem them away..
Rof. O, they take the part of a better wrestler than
in time, in despight of a fall;---but turning these jests out of service, let us talk in good earnest: is it possible on fuch a sudden you should fall into fo strong a liking with old Sir Rowland's youngest son?'
Rof. The Duke my father lov'd his father dearly.
(7) No, fome of it is for my father's child.] I have chosen to restores here the reading of the older copies, which evidently contains the poet'a sentiment, ' Refalind would say, “no, all my distress and melancholy " is not for my father; but some of it for my sweetheart, whom I hope “ to marry and have children by," In this sente lhe ftiles him her child's father,
Cel. Doth it therefore ensue, that you fhould love his fon dearly? by this kind of chase, I Mould hate: bim; for my father hated his father dearly; yet I hate not Orlando.
Rof. No, faith, hate him not, for my fake.
Enter Duke, ruith Lords.
Cel. With his eyes full of anger.
Duke. Mistress, dispatch you with your safest haite, And get you from our court.
Rof. Me, uncle !
Duke. You, coufin.
Ros. I do beseech your Grace,
Duke. Thus do all traitors;
Roj. Yet your mistrust cannot make me a traitor; Tell me, wherein the likelihood depends.
Duke. Thou art thy father's daughter, there's enough.
Rof. So was I, when your Highness took his Dukedom;. So was I, when your Highness banilh'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, good my Liege, mistake me not so much, To think my poverty is treacherous..
Cél. Dear Sovereign, hear me speak.
fake i Else had the with her father rang'd along.
Cel. I did not then entreat to have her stay,
Duke. She is too subtle for thee; and her smoothness
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, &c. Cel. O my poor Rosalind; where wilt thou ? Wilt thou change fathers ! I will give thee mine : I charge thee, be not thou more griev'd than I am.
Rofi. I have more cause.
Cel. Thou hast not, cousin; Pr’ythee, be cheerful; know'st thou not, the Duke Has banil'd me his daughter?
Rof. That he hath not. Cel. No. hath not? (8) Rosalind lacks then the love, Which teacheth me that thou and I am one :
Rosalind lacks then she love, Wilhich teacherb thee that tbou and I om one] Tho' this be the readi of all the printed copies, 'tis evident, the poet: w of i Wich teacherb me--
Shall we be fundred ? thall we part, sweet girl?
Rosi Wiy, whither shall we go?
Rof. Alas, what danger will it be to us,
Cel. I'll put myself in poor and mean attirez
Rof. Wer't not better,
Cel. What shall I call thee, when thou art a man
RS. I'll have no worse a name than Jove's own pages: 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.
or if Refalind had learnt to think Celia one part of herself, she could not lack that love which Celia complains she does. My emendatien is confirm’d by what Celia says when the first comes upon the stage.
Herein I see, thou lovist me not with the full weigbt that I love thee:&c. I could have taugbe my love to take tby father for mine; so woulds thou, if the truth of thy love to me were.
refo righteuilly simper'd as mine is to thee,
Ref. Bat, coufin, what if we allaid to steal
Cel. He'll go along o'er the wide world with me,
А с т ІІ.
SCENE, Ardon Forest.
Enter Duke Senior, Amiens, and two or three Lords
Du k e senior.
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, (9) 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 fay, This is not fattery; these are counfellors, That feelingly persuade me what I am.
(9) Here feel we not the penalty:] What was the penalty of Adani, hinted at by our poet? the being sensible of the difference of the Teasons. 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 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 auther's former editions,