Which teacheth Me that thou and I am one:
Shall we be fundred ? fhall we part, fweet Girl?
No, let my father feek another heir.

Therefore devife with me, how we may fly;
Whither to go, and what to bear with us;
And do not feek to take your charge upon you,
To bear your griefs your felf, and leave me out:
For by this heav'n, now at our forrows pale,
Say what thou can'ft, I'll go along with thee.
Rof. Why, whither fhall we go?

Cel. To feek my Uncle in the foreft of Arden.
Rof. Alas, what danger will it be to us,
Maids as we are, to travel forth fo far!
Beauty provoketh thieves fooner than gold.
Cel. I'll put my felf in poor and mean attire,
And with a kind of umber fmirch my face
The like do you; fo fhall we pass along,
And never ftir affailants.

Rof. Were't not better,

Because that I am more than common tall,
That I did fuit me all points like a man?
A gallant Curtle-ax upon my thigh,

A boar-fpear 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 mannifh Cowards have,

That do outface it with their femblances.

Cel. What fhall I call thee, when thou art a man?
Rof. 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

No longer Celia, but Aliena.

Which teacheth Me

ftate:

for if Rofalind 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 fays when she first comes upon the Stage.

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. Leave me alone to woo him; let's away, And get our jewels and our wealth together; Devife the fitteft time, and fafeft way To hide us from pursuit that will be made After my flight now go we in content To Liberty, and not to Banishment.

[Exeunt

SCENE, Arden FOREST.

Enter Duke Senior, Amiens, and two or three Lord like Forefters.

N

DUKE fenior.

OW, my co-mates, and brothers in exile,

Hath not old cuftom made this life more fweet
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 Seafons' difference; as, the icie 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: these are Counsellors,
That feelingly perfuade me what I am.

(4) Here feel we not the Penalty.] What was the Penalty of Adam, hinted at by our Poet? The being fenfible of the Dif ference of the Seafons. The Duke fays, the Cold and Effects of the Winter feelingly perfuade him what he is. How does he not then feel the Penalty? Doubtlefs, the Text must be reftor'd as I have corrected it: and 'tis obvious in the Courfe of thefe Notes, how often not and but by Miftake have chang'd Place in our Author's former Editions.

Sweet

AS YOU LIKE IT.

weet are the ufes of Adverfity,

Vhich, like the toad, ugly and venomous,
Vears yet a precious jewel in his head :

283

And this our life, exempt from publick haunt,
Finds tongues in trees, books in the running brooks,
ermons in ftones, and good in every thing.

Ami. I would not change it; happy is your Grace, That can tranflate the ftubbornnefs of fortune nto fo quiet and so sweet a style.

Duke Sen. Come, fhall we go and kill us venison?
And yet it irks me, the poor dappled fools,

Being native burghers of this defart city,
hould, in their own Confines, with forked heads
Have their round haunches goar'd.

1 Lord. Indeed, my Lord,

The melancholy Jaques grieves at that;
And in that kind fwears you do more ufurp
Than doth your brother, that hath banish'd you :
Today my Lord of Amiens, and my self,
Did fteal behind him, as he lay along
Under an oak, whofe 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 languish; and, indeed, my lord,
The wretched Animal heav'd forth fuch groans
That their discharge did ftretch his leathern coat
Almoft to bursting; and the big round tears
Cours'd one another down his innocent nofe
In piteous chafe; and thus the hairy fool,
Much marked of the melancholy Jaques,
Stood on th' extremeft verge of the swift brook,
Augmenting it with tears.

Duke Sen. But what faid Jaques ?
Did he not moralize this fpectacle?

1 Lord. O yes, into a thousand fimilies.
First, for his weeping in the needless stream;
Poor Deer, quoth he, thou mak'st a testament
As worldlings do, giving thy fum of more
To that which had too much. Then being alone,,

Left

Left and abandon'd of his velvet friends;
"Tis right, quoth he, thus mifery doth part
The flux of company: anon a careless herd,
Full of the pafture, jumps along by him,
And never ftays to greet him: ay, quoth Jaq
Sweep on, you fat and greafie citizens,
'Tis juft the fashion: wherefore do you look
Upon that poor and broken bankrupt there?
Thus moft invectively he pierceth through
The body of the Country, City, Court,
Yea, and of this our life; fwearing, that we
Are meer ufurpers, tyrants, and what's worse,
To fright the animals, and to kill them up
In their affign'd and native dwelling place.
Duke Sen. And did you leave him in this cont
tion?

2 Lord. We did, my Lord, weeping and comm Upon the fobbing deer.

Duke Sen. Show me the place;

I love to cope him in thefe fullen hts.
For then he's full of matter.

2 Lord. I'll bring you to him straight.

[E

SCENE changes to the PALACE ago
Enter Duke Frederick with Lords.

Duke. C

AN it be poffible, that no man faw t It cannot be; fome villains of my Co Are of consent and fufferance in this.

I Lord. I cannot hear of any that did fee her. The ladies, her attendants of her chamber, Saw her a-bed, and in the morning early They found the bed untreafur'd of their mistress.

2 Lord. My Lord, the roynish Clown, at whom Your Grace was wont to laugh, is also miffing: Hifperia, the Princefs' Gentlewoman, Confeffes, that the fecretly o'er-heard

AS YOU LIKE IT.

nd the believes, where ever they are gone, hat Youth is furely in their company.

285

Duke. Send to his brother, fetch that Gallant hither: The be abfent, bring his brother to me,

1 make him find him; do this fuddenly; nd let not Search and Inquifition quail bring again these foolish runaways.

[Exeunt.

SCENE changes to OLIVER's House.

Enter Orlando and Adam.

'HO's there?

la. Adam. What! my young mafter? oh, W*

my gentle mafter,

h, my fweet mafter, O you memory

fold Sir Rowland! why, what make you here?
Why are you virtuous ? why do people love you?
nd wherefore are you gentle, ftrong, and valiant?
Why would you be fo fond to overcome

The bonny Prifer of the humorous Duke?
our Praife is come too fwiftly home before you.
now you not, mafter, to fome kind of men
heir graces ferve them but as enemies?

o more do yours; your virtues, gentle master,
re fanctified and holy traitors to you.

h, what a world is this, when what is comely nvenoms him that bears it!

Orla. Why, what's the matter?

Adam. O unhappy youth,

ome not within these doors; within this roof he enemy of all your graces lives:

our brother

(no; no brother; yet the fon,

et not the fon; I will not call him fon

f him I was about to call his father,)

ath heard your praises, and this night he means
o burn the lodging where you ufe to lie,

nd you within it; if he fail of that,
e will have other means to cut you off;
overheard him, and his practices:

This is no place, this houfe is but a butchery;

Abhor