Le Beau. Good sir, I do in friendship counsel you
To leave this place: Albeit you have deserv'd
High commendation, true applause, and love;
Yet such is now the duke's condition,
That he misconstrues all that you have done.
The duke is humorous; what he is, indeed,
More suits you to conceive, than me to speak of.
Orla. I thank you, sir: and, pray you, tell me this;
Which of the two was daughter of the duke
That here was at the wrestling?
Le B. Neither his daughter, if we judge by manners;
But yet, indeed, the shorter is his daughter :
The other is daughter to the banish'd duke,
And here detain'd by her usurping uncle,
To keep his daughter company; whose loves
Are dearer than the natural bond of sisters.
But I can tell you, that of late this duke
Hath ta'en displeasure 'gainst his gentle niece ;
Grounded upon no other argument,
But that the people praise her for her virtues,
And pity her for her good father's sake;
And, on my life, his malice 'gainst the lady
Will suddenly break forth. --Sir, fare you well;
Hereafter, in a better world than this,
I shall desire more love and knowledge of you.
Orla. I rest much bounden to you: fare you well!
Thus must I from the smoke into the smother;
From tyrant duke, unto a tyrant brother :-
But heavenly Rosalind!
A Room in the Palace. Enter CELIA and ROSALIND.
Cel. Why, cousin; why, Rosalind; -Cupid have mer
cy!-Not a word?
Ros. Not one to throw at a dog.
Cel. No, thy words are too precious to be cast away upon curs, throw some of them at me; come, lame me with reasons.
Ros. Then there were two cousins laid up; when the one should be lamed with reasons, and the other mad without any.
Cel. But is all this for your father?
let us talk in good earnest: Is it pos den, you should fall into so strong Rowland's youngest son?
Ros. The duke my father lov'd hi Cel. Doth it therefore ensue, that son dearly? By this kind of chace, 1 my father hated his father dearly; lando.
Ros. No, 'faith, hate him not, for 1 Cel. Why should I not? doth he n Ros. Let me love him for that; a because I do :-Look, here comes th Cel. With his eyes full of anger. Enter Duke FREDERICK, W Duke F. Mistress, despatch you wi And get you from our court. Ros. Me, uncle ?
Duke F. You, cousin :
Within these ten days if thou be'st fo So near our public court as twenty m Thou diest for it.
Ros. I do beseech your grace, Let me the knowledge of my fault be If with myself I hold intelligence, Or have acquaintance with mine own
[9] i. e. for him whom I hope to marry, and have ch [1] That is. by this way of following the argument. in a double sense for beloved, and for hurtful, hated, thorised, and both drawn from etymology; but properly is dere. Rosalind uses dearly in the good, and Celia in
If that I do not dream, or be not frantic,
(As I do trust I am not,) then, dear uncle,
Never, so much as in a thought unborn,
Did I offend your highness.
Duke F. Thus do all traitors;
If their purgation did consist in words,
They are as innocent as grace itself:-
Let
Let it suffice thee, that I trust thee not.
Ros. Yet your mistrust cannot make me a traitor :
Tell me, whereon the likelihood depends.
Duke F. 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, good my liege, mistake me not so much,
To think my poverty is treacherous.
Cel. Dear sovereign, hear me speak.
Duke F. Ay, Celia; we stay'd her for your sake,
Else had she with her father rang'd along.
Cel. I did not then entreat to have her stay;
It was your pleasure, and your own remorse;
I was too young that time to value her,
But now I know her: if she be a traitor,
Why so am I; we still have slept together,
Rose at an instant, learn'd, play'd, eat together;
And wheresoe'er we went, like Juno's swans,
Still we went coupled, and inseparable.
Duke F. She is too subtle for thee; and her smoothness,
Her very silence, 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 past upon her; she is banish'd.
Cel. Pronounce that sentence then on me, my liege; I cannot live out of her company.
Duke F. 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 FREDERICK and Lords.
[2] When she was seen alone, she would be more noted.
Cel. O my poor Rosalind! whither wilt thou go?
Wilt thou change fathers ? I will give thee mine.
I charge thee, be not thou more griev'd than I am.
Ros. I have more cause.
Cel. Thou hast not, cousin;
Pr'ythee, be cheerful: know'st thou not, the duke
Hath banish'd me his daughter?
Cel. No? hath not? Rosalind lacks then the love
Which teaches thee that thou and I am one :
Shall we be sunder'd? 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 change upon you,
To bear your griefs yourself, and leave me out ;
For, by this heaven, now at our sorrows pale,
Say what thou canst, I'll go along with thee.
Ros. Why, whither shall we go?
Cel. To seek my uncle.
Ros. 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; so shall we pass along,
And never stir assailants.
Ros. Were it not better,
Because that I am more than common tall,
That I did suit me all points like a man?
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 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?
Ros. I'll have no worse a name than Jove's own page,
And therefore look you call me Ganymede.
But what will you be call'd?
[3] i. e. to take your change or reverse of fortune on yourself, without any aid or participation. MALONE.
[4] Umber-a dusky yellow-coloured earth, brought from Umbria in Italy.
[5] Curtle-ar-or cutlace, a broad sword. JOHNSON.
Cel. Something that hath a reference to my state; No longer Celia, but Aliena.
Ros. But, cousin, what if we essay'd 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 fittest time, and safest way
To hide us from pursuit that will be made
After my flight: Now go we in content,
To liberty, and not to banishment.
SCENE I.-The Forest of Arden. Enter Duke senior,
AMIENS, and other Lords, in the dress of Foresters.
Duke S.
NOW, 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,
The seasons' difference; as the icy fang,
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.
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 public 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,
[6] It was the current opinion in Shakespeare's time, that in the head of an old toad was to be found a stone, or pearl, to which great virtues were ascribed. This stone has been often sought, but nothing has been found more than accidental or perhaps morbid indurations of the skull. JOHNSON.
In a book called A Green Forest, or a Natural History, &c. by J. Maplett, 1567, is the following account of this imaginary gem: "In this stone is apparently seene verie often the verie forme of a tode, with despotted and coloured feete, but those uglye and defusedly. It is available against envenoming." STEEVENS.
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