But now I know her: if she be a traitor, 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. 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 sentence then on me, my DUKE F. You are a fool :-You, niece, provide yourself; If you out-stay the time, upon mine honour, [Exeunt Duke FREDERICK and Lords. CEL. O my poor Rosalind! whither wilt thou So 1632. go? Wilt thou change fathers? I will give thee mine. Ros. I have more cause. CEL. Thou hast not, cousin; Pr'ythee, be cheerful: know'st thou not, the duke Ros. That he hath not. CEL. No? hath not? Rosalind lacks then the love Which teacheth thee that thou and I am one;" a the love, which teacheth thee, &c.] i. e. that warmth of feeling, which cannot do less than instruct thee, that, &c. John whether. 1623. Whether. Shall we be sunder'd? shall we part, sweet girl? So 1632. Therefore devise with me how we may fly, 1623. 1632. * And do not seek to take your change + upon you,* + charge. 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. So as above. 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, CEL. I'll put myself in poor and mean attire, Ros. Were it not better, Because that I am more than common tall, son offers, as a similar phraseology: you know not the law, which teaches you to do right." a take your change upon you] i. e. encounter this reverse. b For, by this heaven, now at our sorrows pale] This passage may be interpreted either " by this heaven, or the light of hea ven, with its lustre faded in sympathy with our feelings:" or, "for, by this heaven, now we have reached, now we are at the utmost verge or point, in this extremity or crisis of our fate," &c. (for such it was) as this word is used in the Wint. T. IV. 2. Autol. "For the red blood reigns in the winter's pale." MALONE. And with a kind of umber smirch my face] Umber is a dusky d curtle-axe] i. e. cutlace, broadsword. JOHNSON. A boar-spear in my hand; and (in my heart That do outface it (17) 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? * So 1632. CEL. Something that hath a reference to my by. 1623. state; No longer Celia, but Aliena. Ros. But, cousin, what if we assay'd to steal CEL. He'll go along o'er the wide world with me; [Exeunt. † we in. 1632. ACT II. SCENE I. The Forest of Arden. Enter Duke senior, AMIENS, and other Lords in the dress of Foresters. DUKE S. Now, my co-mates, and brothers in exíle, Hath not old custom made this life more sweet a co-mates] i. e. associates. Copemates was also in the same sense the language of the day. b Hath not old custom Are not these woods-Here feel we not the penalty That feelingly persuade me what I am] Wherever the course of thought admits it, Shakespeare is accustomed to continue the form of speaking which he first falls upon; and the sense of this passage, in which he repeats the word not, appears to be— "The penalty here, properly speaking, is not, or scarce is, physically felt, because the suffering it occasions, sharp as it otherwise might be called, turns so much to account in a moral sense." The construction of " which, when it blows," is" at which, or which blowing." And or for, instead of which, would have given a plain and clear sense; but the same forms and cold terms of reasoning, would have clogged the spirited and warm flow of the sentiment: and the recurrence of and at the beginning of this line would have offended the ear. The modern editors, following Theobald, for not, read but as we conceive, unnecessarily. Still the word "feelingly," used at the end of Sweet are the uses of adversity; Which, like the toad, ugly and venomous, 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,(3) the poor dappled fools,Being native burghers of this desert city,(4) Should, in their own confínes, with forked heads, Have their round haunches gor'd. 1 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 antique root peeps out Upon the brook that brawls along this wood: (5) To the which place a poor sequester'd stag, 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 (6) 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? this passage in an affirmative sense, after "feel" had been brought forward, coupled with a negative, certainly makes a confusion, if it be not said to favour Theobald's substitution. |