SCENE changes to an Apartment in the Re-enter Celia and Rofalind. Cel. WHY, coufin; why, Rosalind; Cupid have mercy; not a word! Rof. Not one to throw at a dog. Cel. No, thy words are too precious to be caft away upon curs, throw fome of them at me; come, lame me with reafons. Rof. Then there were two cousins laid up; when the one fhould be lam'd with reafons, and the other mad without any. Cel. But is all this for your father? thee Rof. (7) No, fome of it is for my child's father. Oh, how full of briars is this working-day-world Cel. They are but burs, coufin, thrown upon in holiday foolery; if we walk not in the trodden paths, our very petticoats will catch them. Rof. I could thake them off my coat; these burs are in my heart. Cel. Hem them away. Rof. I would try, if I could cry, hem, and have him. Cel. Come, come, wrestle with thy affections. Rof. O, they take the part of a better wrestler than myfelf. སྙ Cel. O, a good wish upon you! you will try in time, in defpight of a fall; but turning thefe jefts out of fervice, let us talk in good earneft: is it poffible on fuch a fudden you fhould fall into fo ftrong a liking with old Sir Rowland's youngest fon? Rof. The Duke my father lov'd his father dearly. (7) No, fome of it is for my father's child.] I have chofen to restores here the reading of the older copies, which evidently contains the poet's fentiment. Realind would fay, "no, all my diftrefs and melancholy "is not for my father; but fome of it for my fweetheart, whom I hope "to marry and have children by." In this fenfe the files him her child's father Cel Cel. Doth it therefore enfue, that you fhould love his fon dearly by this kind of chase, I should hate: him; for my father hated his father dearly; yet I hate' not Orlando. Rof. No, faith, hate him not, for my fake. Cel. Why fhould 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. Miftrefs, dispatch you with your safest haste, And get you from our court.. Rof. Me, uncle! Duke. You, coufin. Within these ten days if that thou be'ft found Rof. I do befeech your Grace, Let me the knowledge of my fault bear with me: Or have acquaintance with my own defires; Duke. Thus do all traitors ; If their purgation did confift in words, Rof. Yet your mistrust cannot make me a traitor; Duke. Thou art thy father's daughter, there's enough. Or if we did derive it from our friends, Cel Cél. Dear Sovereign, hear me speak. Duke. Ay, Celia, we but ftaid her for your fake; Cel. I did not then entreat to have her stay ;. Still we went coupled, and infeparable. Duke. She is too fubtle for thee; and her smoothness, Her very filence and her patience, Speak to the people, and they pity her: Thou art a fool; fhe robs thee of thy name, And thou wilt fhow more bright, and feem more virtuous, When fhe is gone; then open not thy lips: Firm and irrevocable is my doom, Which I have paft upon her; fhe is banish'd. Cel. Pronounce that fentence then on me, my Liege; I cannot live out of her company. Duke. You are a fool: you, niece, provide yourself; If you out-flay the time, upon mine honour, And in the greatnefs of my word, you die. [Exeunt Duke, &a. Cel. O my poor Rofalind; where wilt thou Wilt thou change fathers! I will give thee mine: I charge thee, be not thou more griev'd than I am. Rof. I have more cause. Cel. Thou haft not, coufin; Pr'ythee, be cheerful; know'ft thou not, the Duke Has banifh'd me his daughter? Rof. That he hath not. Cel. No hath not? (8) Refalind lacks then the love, Which teacheth me that thou and I am one : (8) Rofalind lacks then the love, Which teacheth thee that thou and I am one] Shall Tho' this be the reading of all the printed copies, 'tis evident, the poet Which teacbeth me fox Shall we be fundred ? fhall we part, sweet girl Cel. To feek my uncle in the foreft of Arden,. Rof. Wer't not better, Becaufe that I am more than common tall, A boar-fpear in my hand, and (in my heart That do outface it with their femblances. Cel. What shall I call thee, when thou art a man? Rof. I'll have no worfe 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 ftate: 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 the does. My emendation is confirm'd by what Celia fays when she first comes upon the stage. Herein I fee, thou lov'ft me not with the full weight that I love thee :&c. I could have taught my love to take thy father for mine; so wouldfi thou, if the truth of thy love to me were so righterfly semper'd as minė is to thee. Rof, : Rof. But, coufin, 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. [Exeunt Enter Duke Senior, Amiens, and two or three Lords like Forefters. DUKE Senior. 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, (9) The feafons' 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 fhrink with cold, I fmile, and fay, This is no flattery; thefe are counsellors, That feelingly perfuade me what I am. (9) Here feel we not the penalty.] What was the penalty of Adami, hinted at by our poet? the being fenfible of the difference of the feafons. The Duke fays, the cold and effects of the winter feelingly perfuade him what he is. How does he not then feel the penalty? doubtless the text muft 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, Sweet |