Cel. O, a good with 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 fov'd his father dearly. Cel. Doth it therefore enfue that you fhould love his fen dearly? By this kind of chafe I fhould hate him; for my father hated his father dearly; yet I hate not

Orlando.

Ref. No, faith, hate him not for my sake.

Cel. Why fhould I? doth he not deserve well!

SCENE IX. 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, difpatch you with your safest hafte, And get you from our court.

Rof. Me, uncle !

Duke. You, coufin.

Within thefe ten days, if that thou be'ft found
So near our public court as twenty miles,
Thou dieft for it.

Rof. I do befeech your Grace,

Let me the knowledge of my fault bear with me:
If with myself I hold intelligence,

Or have acquaintance with my own defires;
If that I do not dream, or be not frantic,
(As I do truft, I am not), then, dear uncle,
Never fo much as in a thought unborn
Did I offend your Highnefs.

Duke. Thus do all traitors;

If their purgation did confift in words,
They are as innocent as grace itself:
Let it fuffice thee that I trust thee not.

Ref. Yet your miltruft 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 Highnefs took his dukeSo was I when your Highnefs banifh'd him; [dom; Treafon is not inherited, my Lord;

Or

Or if we did derive it from our friends,

What's that to me! my father was no traitor:
Then, good my Liege, miftake me not fo much,
To think my poverty is treacherous.

Cel. Dear Sovereign, hear me fpeak.

Duke. Ay, Celia, we but ftaid here for your fake; Elfe had she with her father range'd along.

Cel. I did not then intreat to have her itay;
It was your pleasure, and your own remorfe;
I was too young that time to value her;
But now I know her; if fhe be a traitor,
Why fo am I; we ftill have flept together,
Rofe at an instant, learn'd, play'd, eat together;
And wherefoe'er we went, like Juno's fwans,
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; the robs thee of thy name,

And thou wilt fhow more bright,and hine more virtuous, When the is gone; then open not thy lips:

Firm and irrevocable is my doom,

Which I have pass'd upon her; fhe is banifh'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 yourfelf; If you out-stay the time, upon mine honour, And in the greatnefs of my word, you die.

SCENE

[Exeunt Duke, ¿e.

X.

Gel. O my poor Rofalind, where wilt thou go? 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 caufe.

Gel. Thou haft not, coufin :

Pr'ythee, be chearful; know'st thou not, the Duke Has banifh'd me his daughter?

Rof. That he hath not.

Cel. No hath not Rofalind lacks then the love, Which teacheth me that thou and I am one: Shall we be funder'd? fhall we part, fweet girl?

U 2

No,

No, let my father feek another heir.
Therefore devise 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 yourself, and leave me out :
For by this heav'n, now at our sorrows pale,
Say what thou can'ft, I'll go along with thee.
Ref. Why, whither fhall we go ?

Gel. To feek my uncle in the forest of Arden.
Ref. 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 myself 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. Wer't not better,

Becaufe 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 fwathing and a martial outside,
As many other mannish cowards have,

That do outface it with their femblances.

Gel. What fhall I call thee when thou art a man? Kof. I'll have no worfe a name than Jove's own page; And therefore look you call me Ganymede.

But what will you be call'd?

Gel. Something that hath a reference to my state: No longer Celia, but Aliena.

Rof. But, cousin, 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;
Devile the fitteft time, and safest way

To hide us from purfuit that will be made
After my flight: now go we in content
To liberty, and not to banishment.

[Exeunt.

ACT

ACT II.

SCENE I.

Arden foreft.

Enter Duke fenior, Amiens, and two or three Lords like

foresters.

Duke fenior. No exile,
TOW, my co-mates, and brothers in

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, • The feafon's 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: these are counsellors, That feelingly perfuade me what I am. Sweet are the ufes 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 ftones, and good in every thing.'

Ami. I would not change it; happy is your Grace, That can tranflate the stubbornnefs of fortune Into fo quiet and fo fweet a ftyle.

1

Duke fen. Come, fhall we go, and kill us venifon!
And yet it irks me, the poor dappled fool,
Being native burghers of this defert city,

Should, in their own confines, with forked heads
Have their round haunches goar'd.

1 Lord: Indeed, my Lord,

1

The melancholy Jaques grieves at that,
And in that kind fwears you do more ufurp
Than doth your brother that hath banish'd you.}
To-day my Lord of Amiens, and myself,
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,

U 3

That

That from the hunter's aim had ta'en a hurt,
Did come to languifh; and, indeed, my Lord,
The wretched animal heav'd forth fuch groans
That their difcharge did ftretch his leathern coat
Almot to buriting; 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 fen. But what faid Jaques ?

Did he not moralize this fpectacle ?

1 Lord.

yes, into a thoufand fimilies. Firft, for his weeping in the needlefs itream; 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 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 itays to greet him: Ay, quoth Jaques, Sweep on, you fat and greafy citizens, 'Tis just 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 mere ufurpers, tyrants, and what's worse, To fright the animals, and to kill them up In their affign'd and native dwelling-place.

Duke fen. And did you leave him in this contemplation?

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

Duke fen. Show me the place;

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

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

[Exeunt.

SCENE