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for my father hated his father dearly; yet I hate not Orlando.

Ros. No 'faith, hate him not, for my sake.
Cel. Why should I not? doth he not deserve well??

Ros. 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.

Enter Duke FREDERICK, with Lords. Duke F. Mistress, despatch you with your safest haste, And get you from our court. Ros.

Me, uncle? Duke F.

You, cousin:
Within these ten days if that thou be’st found
So near our publick court as twenty miles,
Thou diest for it.
Ros.

I do beseech your grace,
Let me the knowledge of my fault bear with me:
If with myself I hold intelligence,
Or have acquaintance with mine own desires;
If that I do not dream, or be not frantick,
(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 it suffice thee, that I trust thee not.

Ros. Yet your mistrust cannot make me a traitor:

beloved, and for hurtful, hated, baleful. Both senses are authorised, and both drawn from etymology; but properly, beloved is dear, and hateful is dere. Rosalind uses dearly in the good, and Celia in the bad sense. Fohnson.

7 Why should I not? doth he not deserve well?] Celia answers Rosalind, (who had desired her “not to hate Orlando, for her sake,") as if she had said " love him, for my sake:” to which the former replies, “Why should I not [i. e. love him]?” So, in the following passage, in King Henry VIII:

Which of the peers
“ Have uncontemn'd gone by him, or at least

“ Strangely neglected ?" Uncontemn'd must be understood as if the author had writtennot contemn’dl; otherwise the subsequent words would convey a meaning directly contrary to what the speaker intends. Malone.

VOL, V.

D

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;8 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 smooth

ness,
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 virtu-

ous,
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;

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8

9

remorse ;] i. e. compassion. So, in Macbeth:
“Stop the access and passage to remorse.Steevens.

we still have slept together, Rose at an instant, learn'd, play'd, eat together;] Youthful friendship is described in nearly the same terms in a book published the year in which this play first appeared in print:“ They ever went together, plaid gether, eate together, and usually slept together, out of the great love that was between them.” Life of Guzman de Alfarache, folio, printed by Edward Blount, 1623, P. I, B. I, c. viii, p. 75. Reed.

1 And thou wilt show more bright, and seem more virtuous,] When she was seen alone, she would be more noted. Fohnson.

I cannot live out of her company.
Duke F. You are a fool:-You, niece, provide your-

self;
If you out-stay the time, upon mine honour,
And in the greatness of my word, you die.

[Exeunt Duke FRED. and Lords.
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;2
Pr’ythee, be cheerful; know'st thou not, the duke
Hath banish'd me his daughter?
Ros.

That he hath not.
Cel. No? hath not? Rosalind lacks then the love
Which teacheth thee that thou and I am one:3
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.5

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2 Thou hast not, cousin ;] Some word is wanting to the metre. Perhaps our author wrote:

Indeed thou hast not, cousin. Steevens.

Rosalind lacks then the love Which teacheth thee that thou and I am one:] The poet cer. tainly wrote-which teacheth me. For if Rosalind had learnt to think Celia one part of herself, she could not lack that love which Celia complains she does. Warburton.

Either reading may stand. The sense of the established text is not remote or obscure. Where would be the absurdity of say. ing, You know not the law which teaches you to do right? Johnson.

to take your change upon you,] i. e. to take your change or reverse of fortune upon yourself, without any aid or participa. tion. Malone.

I have inserted this note, but without implicit confidence in the reading it explains. The second folio has charge. Steevens.

5 To seek my uncle.] Here the old copy adds in the forest of

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;6
The like do you; so shall we pass along,
And never stir assailants.
Ros.

Were 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 swashings 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 callid?

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;

Arden. But these words are an evident interpolation, without use, and injurious to the measure:

Why, whither shall we go?-To seek my uncle, being a complete verse. Besides, we have been already informed by Charles the wrestler, that the banished duke's residence was in the forest of Arden. Steevens.

6 And with a kind of umber smirch my face;] Umber is a dusky yellow-coloured earth, brought from Umbria in Italy.

See a note on “the umber'd fires,” in K. Henry V, Act III. Malone.

curtle-ax —] Or cutlace, a broad sword. Fohnson. 8 We'll have a swashing &c.] A swashing outside is an appearance of noisy, bullying valour. Swashing blow is mentioned in Romeo and Juliet; and, in King Henry V, the Boy says:-“ As young as I am, I have observed these three swashers;" meaning Nym, Pistol, and Bardolph. Steevens.

7

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.

9

[Exeunt.

ACT II.....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,

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Now go we in content,] The old copy reads-Now go in we content. Corrected by the editor of the second folio. I am not sure that the transposition is necessary. Our author might have used content as an adjective. Malone.

1 Here feel we but the penalty of Adam,] The old copy reads-“not the penalty " Steevens.

What was the penalty of Adam, hinted at by our poet? The being sensible 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 restored as I have corrected it; and it is obvious, in the course of these notes, how often not and but, by mistake have changed place in our author's former editions. Theobald.

As not has here taken the place of but, so, in Coriolanus, Act II, sc. iii, but is printed instead of not :

Cor. Ay, but mine own desire.
1 Cit. How! not your own desire." Malone.

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