And thou wilt show more bright, and seem more

virtuous,

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 fentence then on me, my liege;

I cannot live out of her company.

DUKE F. You are a fool:-You, niece, provide

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

[Exeunt Duke FREDERICK and Lords.

CEL. Omy 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 caufe.

CEL.

Thou haft not, coufin;1 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? Rofalind lacks then the love Which teacheth thee that thou and I am one: 8

• And thou wilt show more bright, and feem more virtuous,] When she was seen alone, she would be more noted. JOHNSON.

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

Indeed thou haft not, cousin. STEEVENS.

8 - Rofalind lacks then the love

Which teacheth thee that thou and I am one:] The poet certainly wrote which teacheth me. For if Rofalind 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 obfcure. Where would be the abfurdity of faying, You know not the law which teaches you to do right ? JOHNSON.

Shall we be sunder'd? shall we part, sweet girl?
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 change upon you,
To bear your griefs yourself, and leave me out;
For, by this heaven, now at our forrows pale,
Say what thou canst, I'll go along with thee.
Ros. Why, whither shall we go?
CEL.

To seek my uncle.*

Ros. Alas, what danger will it be to us, Maids as we are, to travel forth fo far? Beauty provoketh thieves sooner than gold.

3

CEL. I'll put myself in poor and mean attire, And with a kind of umber smirch my face; The like do you; so shall we pass along,

And never ftir afsailants.

Ros.
Were it not better,
Because that I am more than common tall,
That I did fuit me all points like a man?
A gallant curtle-ax + upon my thigh,

- to take your change upon you,] i. e. to take your change or reverse of fortune upon yourself, without any aid or participation.

MALONE.

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

STEEVENS.

2 To feck my uncle.) Here the old copy adds in the forest of Arden. But these words are an evident interpolation, without use, and injurious to the measure:

Why, whither shall we go?-To feek my uncle. being a complete verse. Besides, we have been already informed by Charles the wrestler, that the banished Duke's refidence was in the foreft of Arden. STEEVENS.

3 And with a kind of umber fmirch my face;) Umber is a dusky yellow-coloured earth, brought from Umbria in Italy. See a note

on " the umber'd fires," in King Henry V. Act III. MALONE.

4

- curtle-ax-] or cutlace, a broad sword. JOHNSON.

A boar-fpear in my hand; and (in my heart
Lie there what hidden woman's fear there will,)
We'll have a fwashing 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 call'd?

CEL. Something that hath a reference to my state;
No longer Celia, but Aliena.

Ros. But, cousin, what if we afsay'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 fafeft way
To hide us from pursuit that will be made
After my flight: Now go we in content,
To liberty, and not to banishment.

[Exeunt.

A fwashing outside is an appearSwashing blow is mentioned in Henry V. the Boy says:-" As these three fwashers;" meaning

5 We'll have a swashing, &c.]
ance of noify, bullying valour.
Romeo and Juliet; and, in King
young as I am, I have observed
Nym, Pistol, and Bardolph. STEEVENS.

6

- 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 fure that the transposition is necessary. Our authour might have used content as an adjective. MALONE.

Enter Duke fenior, 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 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 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 fmile, and say,
This is no flattery: these are counsellors
That feelingly perfuade 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 : *

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 feafons. The Duke says, the cold and effects of the winter feelingly perfuade 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 defire.

1 Cit. How! not your own defire."

8 Which, like the toad, ugly and venomous,

MALONE.

Wears yet a precious jewel in his head:] It was the current opinion in Shakspeare's time, that in the head of an old toad was

And this our life, exempt from publick haunt,
Finds tongues in trees, books in the running brooks,
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.

to be found a stone, or pearl, to which great virtues were ascribed.
This ftone has been often fought, but nothing has been found more
than accidental or perhaps morbid indurations of the skull.

JOHNSON.

In a book called A Green Forest, or a Natural History, &c. by John Maplett, 1567, is the following account of this imaginary gem: " In this ftone is apparently seene verie often the verie forme of a tode, with despotted and coloured feete, but those uglye and defusedly. It is available against envenoming."

Again, in Beaumont and Fletcher's Monfieur Thomas, 1639:

"

in most physicians' heads,

"There is a kind of toadstone bred."Again, in Adrasta, or The Woman's Spleen, 1635: "Do not then forget the ftone

" In the toad, nor ferpent's bone," &c.

Pliny, in the 32d book of his Natural History, ascribes many wonderful qualities to a bone found in the right side of a toad, but makes no mention of any gem in its head. This deficiency however is abundantly supplied by Edward Fenton, in his Secrete Wonders of Nature, 4to. bl. 1. 1569, who says, "That there is founde in the heades of old and great toades, a stone which they call Borax or Stelon: it is most commonly founde in the head of a hee toad, of power to repulse poyfons, and that it is a most foveraigne medicine for the stone."

Thomas Lupton, in his First Booke of Notable Things, 4to. bl. 1. bears repeated teftimony to the virtues of the "Tode-ftone, called Crapaudina." In his Seventh Booke he instructs us how to procure it; and afterwards tells us" You shall knowe whether the Todeftone be the ryght and perfect stone or not. Holde the stone before a Tode, fo that he may fee it; and if it be a ryght and true stone, the Tode will leape towarde it, and make as though he would fnatch it. He envieth fo much that man should have that ftone." STEEVENS. 9 Finds tongues in trees, &c.] So, in Sidney's Arcadia, Book I: "Thus both trees and each thing else, be the bookes to a fancie." STEEVENS.

2 I would not change it:] Mr. Upton, not without probability, gives these words to the Duke, and makes Amiens begin-Happy is your grace. JOHNSON.

-