Imagini ale paginilor

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?


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

Ros. But, cousin, what if we assay'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 One

[The Forest of Arden]

140 Exeunt.

Enter Duke Senior, Amiens, and two or three Lords, like 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 not the penalty of Adam.

The seasons' difference, as, the icy fang

128 Ganymede; cf. n.
S. d. Duke Senior; cf. n.
5 penalty of Adam; cf. n.

131 Aliena; cf. n. 3 painted: artificial, unnatural 6 as: for example

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

Sermons in stones, and good in every thing.


Ami. I would not change it. Happy is your Grace, That can translate the stubbornness of fortune Into so quiet and so sweet a style.


Duke S. Come, shall we go and kill us venison? And yet it irks me, the poor dappled fools, Being native burghers of this desert city,

Should in their own confines with forked heads


Have their round haunches gor'd.

First Lord.

Indeed, my lord,

The melancholy Jaques grieves at that;
And, in that kind, swears you do more usurp
Than doth your brother that hath banish'd you.
To-day my Lord of Amiens and myself
Did steal behind him as he lay along

Under an oak whose antic root peeps out
Upon the brook that brawls along this wood;
To the which place a poor sequester'd stag,

7 churlish: rough, violent chiding: angry noise
13 toad; cf. n.
15 haunt: resort

20 style: manner of life
22 fools: here a term of pity
24 confines: regions



18 I... it; cf. n.

23 desert; cf. n.

forked heads: i.e., the heads of barbed arrows

27 in that kind: in that way

31 antic: fantastic, grotesque, or antique

30 along: at full length

32 brawls: i.e., the noise made by a brook flowing over stones 33 sequester'd: separated, i.e., from the herd

That from the hunters' aim had ta'en a hurt,
Did come to languish; and, indeed, my lord,
The wretched animal heav'd forth such groans


That their discharge did stretch his leathern coat
Almost to bursting, and the big round tears

Cours'd one another down his innocent nose
In piteous chase; and thus the hairy fool,
Much marked of the melancholy Jaques,
Stood on the extremest verge of the swift brook,
Augmenting it with tears.

Duke S.

But what said Jaques? Did he not moralize this spectacle?

First Lord. O, yes, into a thousand similes. First, for his weeping into the needless stream; 'Poor deer,' quoth he, 'thou mak'st a testament As worldlings do, giving thy sum of more




To that which had too much': then, being there alone, Left and abandon'd of his velvet friends;

''Tis right,' quoth he; 'thus misery doth part

The flux of company': anon, a careless herd,
Full of the pasture, jumps along by him


And never stays to greet him; 'Ay,' quoth Jaques,
'Sweep on, you fat and greasy citizens;
'Tis just the fashion; wherefore do you look
Upon that poor and broken bankrupt there?'
Thus most invectively he pierceth through
The body of the country, city, court,
Yea, and of this our life; swearing that we
Are mere usurpers, tyrants, and what's worse,
38 tears; cf. n.

44 moralize: interpret, give a moral sense to
46 needless: not in need, i.e., of more water

48 worldlings: men of this world (?)

50 velvet: ie., because of their soft coats (?); cf. n.

52 flux of company; cf. n. anon: presently

55 greasy: i.e., with excess prosperity

56 fashion: prevalent way, what is to be expected 58 invectively: with denunciation



39 Cours'd: pursued

To fright the animals and to kill them up
In their assign'd and native dwelling-place.

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


Sec. Lord. We did, my lord, weeping and com


Upon the sobbing deer.

Duke S.

Show me the place.

For then he's full of matter.


I love to cope him in these sullen fits,

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

Scene Two

[A Room in the Palace]

Enter Duke [Frederick], with Lords.


Duke F. Can it be possible that no man saw them? It cannot be: some villains of my court

Are of consent and sufferance in this.

First Lord. I cannot hear of any that did see her.

The ladies, her attendants of her chamber,
Saw her a-bed; and, in the morning early

They found the bed untreasur'd of their mistress.
Sec. Lord. My lord, the roynish clown, at whom
so oft

Your Grace was wont to laugh, is also missing.
Hisperia, the princess' gentlewoman,

Confesses that she secretly o'erheard

Your daughter and her cousin much commend

62 kill

.. up: kill off

68 matter: sense, substance


67 cope: encounter 69 straight: straightway

3 of consent and sufferance: i.e., have complied and permitted with

out opposition

8 roynish: scurvy

7 untreasur'd: devoid of the treasure

The parts and graces of the wrestler

That did but lately foil the sinewy Charles;
And she believes, wherever they are gone,
That youth is surely in their company.


Duke F. Send to his brother; fetch that gallant hither;

If he be absent, bring his brother to me;
I'll make him find him. Do this suddenly,
And let not search and inquisition quail
To bring again these foolish runaways.

Scene Three

[Before Oliver's House]

Enter Orlando and Adam [meeting].

Orl. Who's there?



Adam. What! my young master? O my gentle


O my sweet master! O you memory

Of old Sir Rowland! why, what make you here?
Why are you virtuous? Why do people love you?
And wherefore are you gentle, strong, and valiant?
Why would you be so fond to overcome
The bonny priser of the humorous duke?
Your praise is come too swiftly home before you.
Know you not, master, to some kind of men
Their graces serve them but as enemies?


No more do yours: your virtues, gentle master,
Are sanctified and holy traitors to you.


O, what a world is this, when what is comely

13 parts: personal qualities

20 quail: falter

7 so fond: so foolish as

19 suddenly: immediately 3 memory: memorial

8 bonny priser: stout champion; cf. 'prize-fighter'

12 No


yours; cf. n.

10 kind: sorts

13 sanctified: sanctimonious

« ÎnapoiContinuă »