Why so am I; we still have slept together,

Rose at an instant, learn'd, play'd, eat to-
gether,

And wheresoe'er we went, like Juno's swans,
Still we went coupled and inseparable.

Duke. F. She is too subtle for thee; and her smoothness,

Her very silence and her patience

Speak to the people, and they pity her.

Thou art a fool: she robs thee of thy name;
And thou wilt show more bright and seem
more virtuous

When she is gone. Then open not thy lips: 90
Firm and irrevocable is my doom

Which I have pass'd upon her; she is ban-
ish'd.

Cel. Pronounce that sentence then on me, my liege: I cannot live out of her company.

Duke F. You are a fool. You, niece, provide yourself:

If you outstay the time, upon mine honor, And in the greatness of my word, you die. [Exeunt Duke Frederick and Lords. Cel. O my poor Rosalind, whither wilt thou go? Wilt thou change fathers? I will give thee mine.

I charge thee, be not thou more grieved than

I am.

Ros. I have more cause.

Cel.

100

Thou hast not, cousin;

Prithee, be cheerful: know'st thou not, the

Duke

Ros.

Hath banish'd me, his daughter?

That he hath not. Cel. No, hath not? Rosalind lacks then the love Which teacheth thee that thou and I am one: Shall we be sunder'd? shall we part, sweet girl?

No: let my father seek another heir.

Therefore devise with me how we may fly, 110
Whither to go and what to bear with us;

And do not seek to take your change upon

you,

To bear your griefs yourself and leave me out;

For, by this heaven, now at our sorrows pale,

Say what thou canst, I'll go along with thee. Ros. Why, whither shall we go?

Cel. To seek my uncle in the forest of Arden.
Ros. Alas, what danger will it be to us,

Maids as we are, to travel forth so far!
Beauty provoketh thieves sooner than gold. 120
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 stir assailants.

Ros.

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

A boar-spear in my hand; and-in my heart

112. "change," &c., Folio 1; the other Folios read "charge,” i. e. "burden," probably the true reading.-I. G.

Lie there what hidden woman's fear there

will

We'll have a swashing and a martial outside,
As many other mannish cowards have
That do outface it with their semblances.

130

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 140 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.

[Exeunt.

133. "outface it"; put others out of countenance.-C. H. H. 139. There has been much discussion of the scansion of this line; several critics, in their anxiety to save Shakespeare from the serious charge of using a false quantity, propose to accent "Aliena” on the penultimate, but for all that it seems most likely that the line is to be read

"No lóng/er Cél/ya bút / Ali/ena."-I. G.

ACT SECOND

SCENE I

The Forest of Arden.

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 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 smile and say
"This is no flattery: these are counsellors
That feelingly persuade me what I am.'
Sweet are the uses of adversity;

10

5. “here feel we buť”; Theobald first conjectured “but” for “not” of the Folios, and his emendation has been accepted by many scholars, though violently opposed by others. Most of the discussions turn on "the penalty of Adam,” which ordinarily suggests toil-"in the sweat of thy brow shalt thou eat bread"-but in this passage Shakespeare makes the penalty to be "the seasons' difference," cp. Paradise Lost, x. 678, 9:

"Else had the spring Perpetual smiled on earth with vernant flowers." -I. G.

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 stones and good in every thing.

I would not change it.

Ami.

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,

20

Should in their own confines with forked heads
Have their round haunches gored.

First Lord.

Indeed, my Lord, The melancholy Jaques grieves at that,

And, in that kind, swears you do more usurp

13-14. "like the toad, ugly and venomous," &c. A favorite Euphuistic conceit, e. g. "The foule toade hath a faire stone in his head," Euphues, p. 53 (ed. Arber), based on an actual belief in toadstones. The origin of the belief is traced back to Pliny's description of a stone as "of the colour of a frog."-I. G.

14. The "precious jewel" in the toad's head was not his bright eye, as is sometimes supposed, but one of the "secret wonders of nature," which exist no longer "in the faith of reason." According to Edward Fenton, it was found in the heads of old, and large, and especially he toads, and was of great value for its moral and medicinal virtues. Of course so precious a thing, being rather hard to find, was often counterfeited, and there was an infallible test for distinguishing the counterfeit from the true: "You shall know whether the toad-stone be the right and perfect stone or not. Hold the stone before a toad, so that he may see it; and if it be a right and true stone the toad will leap towards it, and make as though he would snatch it. He envieth so much that man should have that stone."-H. N. H.