led to the formation of this exquisite pastoral drama, is enough to make us withhold our assent to Steevens's splenetic censure of it as worthless.' Touched by the magic wand of the enchanter, the dull and endless prosing of the novelist is transformed into an interesting and lively drama. The forest of Arden converted into a real Arcadia of the golden age. The highly sketched figures pass along in the most diversified succession; we see always the shady dark-green landscape in the back ground, and breathe in imagination the fresh air of the forest. The hours are here measured by no clocks, no regulated recurrence of duty or toil; they flow on unnumbered in voluntary occupation or fanciful idleness.-One throws himself down under the shade of melancholy boughs' and indulges in reflections on the changes of fortune, the falsehood of the world, and the self-created torments of social life: others make the woods resound with social and festive songs, to the accompaniment of their horns. Selfishness, envy, and ambition, have been left in the city behind them; of all the human passions, love alone has found an entrance into this silvan scene, where it dictates the same language to the simple shepherd, and the chivalrous youth, who hangs his loveditty to a tree*?' And this their life, exempt from public haunts, Finds tongues in trees, books in the running brooks, And if I sleep, then percheth he With pretty flight; And makes a pillow of my knee The livelong night. Strike I my lute, he tunes the string, He lends me every lovely thing; How exquisitely is the character of Rosalind conceived, what liveliness and sportive gaiety, combined with the most natural and affectionate tenderness, the reader is as much in love with her as Orlando, and wonders not at Phebe's sudden passion for her disguised when as Ganymede; or Celia's constant friendship. Touchstone is indeed a rare fellow: he uses his folly as a stalking-horse, and under the presentation of that, he shoots his wit:' his courtship of Audrey, his lecture to Corin, his defence of cuckolds, and his burlesque unon the 'duello' of the age, are all most exquisite fooling. It has been remarked, that there are few of Shakspeare's plays which contain so many passages that are quoted and remembered, and phrases that have become in a manner proverbial. To enumerate them would be to mention every scene in the play. And I must no longer detain the reader from this most delightful of Shakspeare's comedies. Malone places the composition of this play in 1599. There is no edition known previous to that in the folio of 1623. But it appears among the miscellaneous entries of prohibited pieces in the Stationers' books, without any certain date. PERSONS REPRESENTED. Duke, living in exile. FREDERICK, Brother to the Duke, and Usurper of his Dominions. AMIENS, Lords attending upon the Duke in his LE BEAU, a Courtier attending upon Frederick. WILLIAM, a country Fellow, in love with Audrey. A Person representing Hymen. ROSALIND, Daughter to the banished Duke. CELIA, Daughter to Frederick. PHEBE, a Shepherdess. AUDREY, a country Wench. Lords belonging to the two Dukes; Pages, Foresters, and other Attendants. The SCENE lies, first, near Oliver's House; afterwards, partly in the Usurper's Court, and partly in the Forest of Arden. AS YOU LIKE IT. ACT I. SCENE I. An Orchard, near Oliver's House. 2 Enter ORLANDO and ADAM. Orlando. As I remember, Adam, it was upon this fashion bequeathed me1 by will: But a poor thousand crowns; and, as thou sayʼst, charged my brother, on his blessing, to breed me well: and there begins my sadness. My brother Jaques he keeps at school, and report speaks goldenly of his profit: for my part, he keeps me rustically at home, or, to speak more properly, stays me here at home unkept: For call you that keeping for a gentleman of my birth, that differs not from the stalling of an ox? His horses are bred better; for, besides that they are fair with their feeding, they are taught their manage, and to that end riders dearly hired: but I, his brother, gain nothing under him but growth: for the which his animals on his dung-hills are as much bound to him as I. Besides 1 Sir W. Blackstone proposed to read, 'He bequeathed, &c. Warburton proposed to read, My father bequeathed, &c.' I have followed the old copy, which is sufficiently intelligible. 2 The old orthography staies was an easy corruption of sties; which Warburton thought the true reading. So Caliban says: 'And here you sty me In this hard rock.' this nothing that he so plentifully gives me, the something that nature gave me, his countenance seems to take from me: he lets me feed with his hinds, bars me the place of a brother, and, as much as in him lies, mines my gentility with my education. This is it, Adam, that grieves me; and the spirit of my father, which I think is within me, begins to mutiny against this servitude: I will no longer endure it, though yet I know no wise remedy how to avoid it. Enter OLIVer. Adam. Yonder comes my master, your brother. Orl. Go apart, Adam, and thou shalt hear how he will shake me up. Oli. Now, sir! what make your here 3? Orl. Nothing: I am not taught to make any thing. Oli. What mar you then, sir? Orl. Marry, sir, I am helping you to mar that which God made, a poor unworthy brother of yours, with idleness. Oli. Marry, sir, be better employed, and be naught awhile. 3 i. e. what do you here? See note in Love's Labour's Lost, Act iv. Sc. 3. 4 Be naught awhile. Warburton justly explained this phrase, which, he says, ' is only a north-country proverbial curse equivalent to a mischief on you.' This however did not satisfy Steevens and Malone, who have bewildered themselves and their readers about it. Mr. Gifford has shown, by very numerous quotations, that Warburton was right. See Jonson's Bartholomew Fair, vol. iv. p. 421: 'Be naught,' says Mr. Nares, or go and be naught, was formerly a petty execration of common usage between anger and contempt, which has been supplanted by others that are worse, as be hanged, be curst, &c.; awhile, or the while, was frequently added merely to round the phrase.' So in The Story of King Darius, 1565: 'Come away, and be naught a whyle.' And in Swetnam, a comedy, 1620: get you both in, and be naught awhile.' |