Cel. Come, come, wrestle with thy affections. Rof. O, they take the part of a better wrestler than myself. Cel. O, a good wish upon you! you will try in time, in defpight of a fall.-But turning thefe jefts out of fervice, let us talk in good earnest: Is it poffible on fuch a fudden you should fall into fo ftrong a liking with old Sir Rowland's youngest son ? Rof. The duke my father lov'd his father dearly. Cel. Doth it therefore enfue, that you should love his fon dearly? By this kind of chafe, I fhould hate him, for my father hated his father dearly; yet I hate not Or/lando. Rof. No, faith, hate him not, for my Take. Cel. Why should I? doth he not deferve well? Enter Duke, with Lords. Rof. Let me love him for that; and do you love him because I do.-Look, here comes the duke. Gel. With his eyes full of anger. Duke. Miftrefs, dispatch you with your safest haste, And get you from our court. Rof. Me, uncle? Duke. You, coufin : Within these ten days if that thou be'st found 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, Duke. Thus do all traitors; If their purgation did confist in words, Rof. Yet your miftruft cannot make me a traitor : Tell me whereon the likelihood depends. Duke. Thou art thy father's daughter, there's enough. So was I, when your highnefs banish'd him : Treafon is not inherited, my lord; Or, if we did derive it from our friends, Cel. Dear fovereign, hear me speak. Duke. Ay, Celia; we but ftay'd her for your fake, Elfe had the with her father rang'd along. Cel. I did not then intreat to have her stay; Duke. She is too fubtle for thee; and her fmoothness, Her very filence, and her patience, Speak to the people, and they pity her. Thou art a fool: fhe robs thee of thy name; Which I have paft upon her :-fhe is banish'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 yourself; If you out-stay the time, upon mine honour, And in the greatnefs of my word, you die. [Exeunt Duke, &c. Cel. O my poor Rofalind! where wilt thou go o? 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 cause. Cel. Thou haft not, coufin; Pr'ythee, be cheerful: know'st thou not the duke Rof. That he hath not. Gel. No hath not? Rofalind lacks then the love Which teacheth thee that thou and I am one: Shall we be funder'd? fhall we part, fweet girl? No; let my father feek another heir. [6] i. e. Her virtues would appear more fplendid, when the luftre of her coufin's was away. WARB, Therefore devife with me, how we may fly; Cel. To feek my uncle in the foreft of Arden. Cel. I'll put myself in poor and mean attire, Rof. Were it not better, Because that I am more than common tall,, A boar-fpear in my hand; and (in my heart 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 state; No longer Celia, but Aliena. Rof. But, coufin, what if we affay'd to fteal Cel. He'll go along o'er the wide world with me; To hide us from pursuit that will be made [7] Curtle-axe, or Cutlace, a broad fword. JOHNS. [Exeunt. ACT II. SCENE I. Arden Foreft. Enter Duke fenior, AMIENS, and two or three Lords, like Foresters. Duke fenior. NOW, my co-mates, and brothers in exile, Which, like the toad, ugly and venomous, Ami. I would not change it. Happy is your grace, That can translate the stubbornnefs of fortune Into fo quiet and so sweet a style. Duke fen. Come, fhall we go and kill us venison ? And yet it irks me, the poor dappled fools, Being native burghers of this defert city, Should in their own confines, with forked heads 1 Lord. Indeed, my lord, The melancholy Jaques grieves at that; And, in that kind, fwears you do more ufurp [8] It was the current opinion in Shakespeare's time, that in the head of an old toad was to be found a ftone, or pearl, to which great virtues were afcribed. This ftone has been often fought, but nothing has been found more than accidental or perhaps morbid indurations of the skull. JOHNS. In a book called, A Green Foreft, or a Natural Hiftory, &c. by John Maplett, 1567, is the following account of this imaginary gem: "In this ftone is apparently feene verie often the verie forme of a tode, with defpotted "and coloured feete, but thofe uglye and defusedly. It is available against "envenoming." STEEV. Than doth your brother, that hath banish'd you. Stood on the extremeft verge of the fwift brook, Duke fen. But what faid Jaques ? I Lord. O yes, into a thousand fimilies. 'Tis just the fashion: wherefore do you look Yea, and of this our life: fwearing, that we 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. 2-Lord. I'll bring you to him ftraight. [Exe |