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I chanced on this letter.
Ant. I am dumb.

Bass. Were you the doctor, and I knew you not? Gra. Were you the clerk, that is to make me cuckold? Ner. Ay but the clerk that never means to do it, Unless he live until he be a man.

Bass. Sweet doctor, you shall be my bedfellow;
When I am absent, then lie with my wife.

Ant. Sweet lady, you have given me life and living;
For here I read for certain, that my ships
Are safely come to road.

Por. How now, Lorenzo?

My clerk hath some good comforts too for you.
Ner. Ay, and I'll give them him without a fee.-
There do I give to you, and Jessica,

From the rich Jew, a special deed of gift,

After his death, of all he dies possess'd of.
Lor. Fair ladies, you drop manna in the way
Of starved people.

Por. It is almost morning,

And yet, I am sure, you are not satisfied
Of these events at full. Let us go in;
And charge us there upon intergatories,
And we will answer all things faithfully.
Gra. Let it be so. The first inter'gatory
That my Nerissa shall be sworn on, is,
Whether till the next night she had rather stay;
Or go to bed now, being two hours to day:
But were the day come, I should wish it dark,
That I were couching with the doctor's clerk.
Well, while I live, I'll fear no other thing
So sore, as keeping safe Nerissa's ring.

[Exeunt.

Duke, living in exile.

dominions.

AS YOU LIKE IT.

rsons of the Drama.

TOUCHSTONE, a clown.

FREDERICK, brother to the Duke, and usurper of his SIR OLIVER MAR-TEXT, a vicar.

AMIENS, Lords attending upon the Duke in his

JAQUES,

nishment.

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ADAM,

DENNIS,

Servants to Oliver.

CORIN,

ba-SLs, shepherds.

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, Fores-
ters, 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.

A C T I.

SCENEI.-An orchard, near Oliver's house.

Enter ORLANDO and ADAM.

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 you here?
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 nought awhile!

Orl. Shall I keep your hogs, and eat husks with them? What prodigal portion have I spent, that I should come to such penury?

Orl. As I remember, Adam, it was upon this fashion bequeathed me: By will, but a poor thousand crowns; and, as thou say'st, 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| Oli. Know you, where you are, sir? hired: but I, his brother, gain nothing under him but Orl. O, sir, very well: here in your orchard. growth; for the which his animals on his dunghills are Oli. Know you, before whom, sir? as much bound to him as I. Besides this nothing, that Orl. Ay, better than he I am before, knows me. I he so plentifully gives me, the something, that nature know, you are my eldest brother; and, in the gentle gave me, his countenance seems to take from me: he condition of blood, you should so know me. The lets me feed with his hinds, bars me the place of a bro- courtesy of nations allows you my better, in that you ther, and, as much as in him lies, mines my gentility are the first born; but the same tradition takes not with my education. This it is, Adam, that grieves me: away my blood, were there twenty brothers betwixt us: and the spirit of my father, which I think is within me, I have as much of my father in me, as you: albeit, I begins to mutiny against this servitude: I will no long- confess, your coming before me is nearer to his reveer endure it, though yet I know no wise remedy, how rence. to avoid it.

Oli. What, boy!

Orl. Come, come, elder brother, you are too young tion to come in disguis'd against me to try a fall. To

in this.

morrow, sir, I wrestle for my credit; and he that Oli. Wilt thou lay hands on me, villain? escapes me without some broken limb,shall acquit him Orl. I am no villain: I am the youngest son of sir well. Your brother is but young, and tender; and, Rowland de Bois; he was my father; and he is thrice a villain, that says such a father begot villains. Wert thou not my brother, I would not take this hand from thy throat, till this other had pulled out thy tongue for saying so; thou hast railed on thyself. Adam. Sweet masters, be patient; for your father's remembrance, be at accord!

Oli. Let me go, I say!

for your love, I would be loth to foil him, as I must, for my own honour, if he come in: therefore, out of my love to you, I came hither to acquaint you withal; that either you might stay him from his intendment, or brook such disgrace well as he shall run into; in that it is a thing of his own search, and altogether against my will.

Oli. Charles, I thank thee for thy love to me, which Orl. I will not, till I please: you shall hear me. My thou shalt find I will most kindly requite. I had myfather charged you in his will to give me good educa- self notice of my brother's purpose herein, and have tion: you have trained me like a peasant, obscuring by underhand means laboured to dissuade him from it; and hiding from me all gentleman-like qualities: the but he is resolute. I'll tell thee, Charles,—it is the spirit of my father grows strong in me, and I will no stubbornest young fellow of France; full of ambition, longer endure it: therefore allow me such exercises an envious emulator of every man's good parts, a seas may become a gentleman, or give me the poor allot-cret and villainous contriver against me, his natural tery my father left me by testament; with that I will brother; therefore use thy discretion; I had as lief thou go buy my fortunes. didst break his neck as his finger, and thou wert best look to't; for if thou dost him any slight disgrace, or if he do not mightily grace himself on thee, he will practise against thee by poison, entrap thee by some treacherous device, and never leave thee, till he hath ta'en thy life by some indirect means or other: for, I assure thee, and almost with tears I speak it, there is not one so young and so villainous this day living. 1 speak but brotherly of him; but should I anatomize him to thee as he is, I must blush and weep, and thou must look pale and wonder.

Oli. And what wilt thou do? beg, when that is spent? Well, sir, get you in: I will not long be troubled with you: you shall have some part of your will: I pray you, leave me!

Orl. I will no further offend you than becomes me for my good.

Oli. Get you with him, you old dog! Adam. Is old dog my reward? Most true, I have lost my teeth in your service.-God be with my old master! he would not have spoke such a word.

[Exeunt Orlando and Adam. Oli. Is it even so? begin you to grow upon me? I will physic your rankness, and yet give no thousand crowns neither. Holla, Dennis!

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Cha. Good morrow to your worship. Oli. Good monsieur Charles!-what's the new news at the new court?

Cha. There's no news at the court, sir, but the old news that is, the old duke is banished by his younger brother the new duke; and three or four loving lords have put themselves into voluntary exile with him, whose lands and revenues enrich the new duke; therefore he gives them good leave to wander.

Oli. Can you tell, if Rosalind, the duke's daughter, be banished with her father?

Cha. O, no; for the duke's daughter, her cousin, so loves her, being ever from their cradles bred together, that she would have followed her exile, or have died to stay behind her. She is at the court, and no less beloved of her uncle, than his own daughter; and never two ladies loved as they do.

Oli. Where will the old duke live? Cha. They say, he is already in the forest of Arden, and a many merry men with him; and there they live like the old Robin Hood of England: they say, many young gentlemen flock to him every day; and fleet the time carelessly, as they did in the golden world.

Oli. What, you wrestle to-morrow before the new duke?

Cha. Marry, do I, sir; and I came to acquaint you with a matter. I am given, sir, secretly to understand, that your younger brother, Orlando, hath a disposi

Cha. I am heartily glad, I came hither to you: if he come to-morrow, I'll give him his payment. If ever he go alone again, I'll never wrestle for prize more: and so, God keep your worship! [Exit.

Oli. Farewell, good Charles!-Now will I stir this gamester: I hope, I shall see an end of him; for my Yet he's gentle; never school'd, and yet learned; full soul, yet I know not why, hates nothing more than he. of noble device; of all sorts enchantingly beloved; and, indeed, so much in the heart of the world, and

especially of my own people, who best know him, that I am altogether misprised: but it shall not be so long; this wrestler shall clear all: nothing remains, but that I kindle the boy thither, which now I'll go about. [Exit.

SCENE II.-A lawn before the Duke's palace.
Enter ROSALIND and CELIA.

Cel. I pray thee, Rosalind, sweet my coz, be merry! Ros. Dear Celia, I show more mirth, than I am mistress of; and would you yet I were merrier? Unless you could teach me to forget a banished father, you must not learn me how to remember any extraordinary pleasure.

Cel. Herein, I see, thou lovest me not with the full weight,that I love thee:if my uncle, thy banished father, had banished thy uncle, the duke my father, so thou hadst been still with me, I could have taught my love to take thy father for mine; so would'st thou, if the truth of thy love to me were so righteously temper'd, as mine is to thee.

Ros. Well, I will forget the condition of my estate, to rejoice in your's.

Cel. You know, my father hath no child but I, nor none is like to have; and, truly, when he dies, thou shalt be his heir: for what he hath taken away from thy father perforce, I will render thee again in affection; by mine honour, I will; and when I break that oath, let me turn monster: therefore, my sweet Rose, my dear Rose, be merry!

Ros. From henceforth I will, coz, and devise sports: let me see, what think you of falling in love?

Cel. Sport? Of what colour?

Cel. Marry, I pr'ythee, do, to make sport withal: but love no man in good earnest; nor no further Le Beau. What colour, madam? How shall I answer in sport neither, than with safety of a pure blush thou may'st in honour come off again. Ros. What shall be our sport then?

Cel. Let us sit and mock the good housewife, Fortune, from her wheel, that her gifts may henceforth be bestowed equally.

Ros. I would we could do so; for her benefits are mightily misplaced: and the bountiful blind woman doth most mistake in her gifts to women.

Cel. 'Tis true: for those that she makes fair, she scarce makes honest; and those that she makes honest, she makes very ill-favour'dly.

Ros. Nay, now thou goest from fortune's office to nature's fortune reigns in gifts of the world, not in the lineaments of nature.

Enter TOUCHSTONE.

Cel. No? When nature hath made a fair creature, may she not by fortune fall into the fire?-Though nature hath given us wit to flout as fortune, hath not fortune sent in this fool to cut off the argument?

Ros. Indeed, there is fortune too hard for nature; when fortune makes nature's natural the cutter off of nature's wit.

Cel. Peradventure, this is not fortune's work neither, but nature's; who perceiving our natural wits too dull to reason of such goddesses, hath sent this natural for our whetstone: for always the dulness of the fool is the whetstone of his wits.-How now, wit? whither wander you?

Touch. Mistress, you must come away to your father.
Cel. Were you made the messenger?
Touch. No, by mine honour; but I was bid to come
for you.

you?

Ros. As wit and fortune will.

Touch. Or as the destinies decree.

Cel. Well said: that was laid on with a trowel.
Touch. Nay, if I keep not my rank,-
Ros. Thou losest thy old smell.

Le Beau. You amaze me, ladies: I would have told you of good wrestling, which you have lost the sight of. Ros. Yet tell us the manner of the wrestling. Le Beau. I will tell you the beginning, and, if it please your ladyships, you may see the end; for the best is yet to do; and here, where you are, they are coming to perform it.

Cel. Well, the beginning, that is dead and buried. Le Beau. There comes an old man and his three sons,-

Cel. I could match this beginning with an old tale. Le Beau. Three proper young men, of excellent growth and presence;

Ros. With bills on their necks,—Be it known unto all men by these presents,

Le Beau. The eldest of the three wrestled with Charles, the duke's wrestler; which Charles in a moment threw him, and broke three of his ribs, that there is

their

little hope of life in him: so he served the second, and so the third. Yonder they lie; the poor old man, father, making such pitiful dole over them, that all the beholders take his part with weeping. Ros. Alas!

Touch. But what is the sport, monsieur, that the ladies have lost?

Le Beau. Why, this that I speak of.

Touch. Thus men may grow wiser every day! it is the first time that ever I heard, breaking of ribs was Cel. Or I, I promise thee. sport for ladies.

Ros. Where learned you that oath, fool? Touch. Of a certain knight, that swore by his honour, they were good pancakes, and swore by his honour, the mustard was naught: now, I'll stand to it, the pan-music in his sides? is there yet another dotes upon Ros. But is there any else longs to see this broken cakes were naught, and the mustard was good; and yet rib-breaking ?-Shall we see this wrestling, cousin? was not the knight forsworn. the place appointed for the wrestling, and they are Le Beau. You must, if you stay here: for here is ready to perform it.

Cel. How prove you that, in the great heap of your knowledge?

Ros. Ay, marry; now unmuzzle your wisdom! Touch. Staud you both forth now: stroke your chins, and swear by your beards, that I am a knave. Cel. By our beards, if we had them, thou art. Touch. By my knavery, if I had it, then I were: but, if you swear by that that is not, you are not forsworn: no more was this knight, swearing by his honour, for he never had any; or, if he had, he had sworn it away, before ever he saw those pancakes, or that mustard. Cel. Pr'ythee, who is't that thou mean'st?

Touch. One that old Frederick, your father, loves. Cel.My father's love is enough to honour him. Enough! speak no more of him; you'll be whipp'd for taxation, one of these days.

Touch. The more pity, that fools may not speak wisely, what wise men do foolishly.

Cel. By my troth, thou say'st true: for since the little wit, that fools have, was silenced, the little foolery, that wise men have, makes a great show. Here comes Monsieur Le Beau.

Enter LE BEAU. Ros. With his mouth full of news.

Cel. Which he will put on us, as pigeons feed their young.

Ros. Then shall we be news-cramm'd.

Cel. All the better; we shall be the more marketable. -Bon jour, Monsieur Le Beau: what's the news? Le Beau. Fair princess, you have lost much good sport.

and see it! Cel. Yonder, sure, they are coming: let us now stay

Flourish. Enter Duke FREDERICK, Lords, ORLANDO, CHARLES, and Attendants.

ed, his own peril on his forwardness! Duke F.Come on; since the youth will not be entreatRos. Is yonder the man?

Le Beau. Even he, madam.

Cel. Alas, he is too young: yet he looks successfully. crept hither to see the wrestling? Duke F. How now, daughter, and cousin? are you

Ros. Ay, my liege; so please you give us leave. you, there is such odds in the men. In pity of the Duke F. You will take little delight in it, I can tell challenger's youth, I would fain dissuade him, but he will not be entreated. Speak to him, ladies; see if you can move him!

Cel. Call him hither, good Monsieur Le Beau! Duke F. Do so; I'll not be by. [Duke goes apart. Le Beau. Monsieur, the challenger, the princesses call for you.

Orl. I attend them, with all respect and duty.

Ros. Young man, have you challenged Charles the wrestler?

Orl. No, fair princess; he is the general challenger: I come but in, as others do, to try with him the strength of my youth.

Cel. Young gentleman, your spirits are too bold for

your years. You have seen cruel proof of this man's | Your mistress shall be happy.

strength: if you saw yourself with your eyes, or knew Ros. Gentleman, [Giving him a chain from her neck. yourself with your judgement, the fear of your adven-Wear this for me, one out of suits with fortune; ture would counsel you to a more equal enterprize. That could give more, but that her hand lacks means.-. We pray you, for your own sake, to embrace your Shall we go, coz? own safety, and give over this attempt.

Ros. Do, young sir; your reputation shall not therefore be misprised: we will make it our suit to the duke, that the wrestling might not go forward.

Orl. I beseech you, punish me not with your hard thoughts; wherein I confess me much guilty, to deny so fair and excellent ladies any thing. But let your fair eyes, and gentle wishes, go with me to my trial: wherein if I be foiled, there is but one shamed, that was never gracious; if killed, but one dead, that is willing to be so: I shall do my friends no wrong, for I have none to lament me; the world no injury, for in it I have nothing; only in the world I fill up a place, which may be better supplied, when I have made it empty.

Ros. The little strength that I have, I would it were with you.

Cel. And mine, to eke out her's. Ros.Fare you well! Pray heaven,I be deceived in you! Cel. Your heart's desires be with you! Cha. Come, where is this young gallant, that is so desirous to lie with his mother earth?

Orl. Ready, sir; but his will hath in it a more modest working.

Duke F. You shall try but one fall.

Cha. No, I warrant your grace; you shall not entreat him to a second, that have so mightily persuaded him from a first.

Orl. You mean to mock me after; you should not have mocked me before: but come your ways! Ros. Now, Hercules be thy speed, young man! Cel. I would I were invisible, to catch the strong fellow by the leg. [Charles and Orlando wrestle.

Ros. O excellent young man! Cel. If I had a thunderbolt in mine eye, I can tell who should down. [Charles is thrown. Shout.

Duke F. No more, no more! Orl. Yes, I beseech your grace; I am not yet well breathed.

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Duke F.I would, thou hadst been son to some man else.
The world esteem'd thy father honourable,
But I did find him still mine enemy:

Thou shouldst have better pleas'd me with this deed,
Hadst thou descended from another house.
But fare thee well; thou art a gallant youth;
I would, thou hadst told me of another father.

[Exeunt Duke Fred. Train, and Le Beau.
Cel. Were I my father, coz, would I do this?
Orl. I am more proud to be sir Rowland's son,
His youngest son; and would not change that calling,
To be adopted heir to Frederick.

Ros. My father lov'd sir Rowland as his soul, And all the world was of my father's mind:

Had I before known this young man his son,

I should have given him tears unto entreaties,

Ere he should thus have ventur'd.

Cel. Gentle cousin,

Let us go thank him, and encourage him!
My father's rough and envious disposition

Sticks me at heart. -Sir, you have well deserv'd:
If you do keep your promises in love,

But justly, as you have exceeded promise,

Cel. Ay.-Fare you well, fair gentleman! Orl. Can I not say, I thank you? My better parts Are all thrown down; and that, which here stands up, Is but a quintain, a mere lifeless block. Ros.He calls us back : my pride fell with my fortunes: I'll ask him what he would. — Did you call, sir?— Sir, you have wrestled well, and overthrown More than your enemies.

Cel. Will you go, coz?

Ros. Have with you. -Fare you well!

[Exeunt Rosalind and Celia. Orl. What passion hangs these weights upon my tongue! I cannot speak to her, yet she urg'd conference. Re-enter LE BEAU. O poor Orlando! thou art overthrown; Or Charles, or something weaker, masters thee. Le Beau. Good sir, I do in friendship counsel you To leave this place. Albeit you have deserv'd High commendation, true applause, and love, Yet such is now the duke's condition, That he misconstrues all that you have done. The duke is humorous; what he is, indeed, More suits you to conceive, than me to speak of. Orl. Ithank you, sir; and, pray you, tell me this: Which of the two was daughter of the duke, That here was at the wrestling?

Le Beau. Neither his daughter, if we judge by man

ners;

But yet, indeed, the shorter is his daughter:
The other is daughter to the banish'd duke,
And here detain'd by her usurping uncle,
To keep his daughter company; whose loves
Are dearer, than the natural bond of sisters.
But I can tell you, that of late this duke
Hath ta'en displeasure 'gainst his gentle niece;
Grounded upon no other argument,
But that the people praise her for her virtues,
And pity her for her good father's sake;
And, on my life, his malice 'gainst the lady
Will suddenly break forth.—Sir, fare you well;
Hereafter, in a better world than this

I shall desire more love and knowledge of you.
Orl. I rest much bounden to you; fare you well!
[Exit Le Beau.

Thus must I from the smoke into the smother;
From tyrant duke unto a tyrant brother :-
But heavenly Rosalind!

[Exit.

SCENE III.-4 room in the palace. Enter CELIA and ROSALIND. Cel. Why, cousin; why, Rosalind ;-Cupid have mercy!- Not a word?

Ros. Not one to throw at a dog.

Cel. No, thy words are too precious to be cast away upon curs, throw some of them at me; come, lame me with reasons!

Ros. Then there were two cousins laid up; when the one should be lamed with reasons, and the other mad without any.

Cel. But is all this for your father?

Ros. No, some of it for my child's father. O, how fall of briars is this working-day world!

Cel. They are but burs, cousin, thrown upon thee in holiday foolery; if we walk not in the trodden paths, our very petticoats will catch them.

Ros. I could shake them off my coat; these burs are in my heart.

Cel. Hem them away!

Ros. I would try; ifI could cry hem, and have him.
Cel. Come, come, wrestle with thy affections!
Ros. O, they take the part of a better wrestler than
myself.

Čel. O, a good wish upon you! you will try in time, in despite of a fall.-But, turning these jests out of service, let us talk in good earnest. Is it possible, on such a sudden, you should fall into so strong a liking with old sir Rowland's youngest son?

Ros. The duke my father lov'd his father dearly. Cel. Doth it therefore ensue, that you should love his son dearly? By this kind of chase, I should hate him, for my father hated his father dearly; yet I hate not Orlando.

Ros. No, 'faith; hate him not, for my sake.
Cel. Why should I not? doth he not deserve well?
Ros. Let me love him for that; and do you love him,
because I do. Look, here comes the duke.

Cel. With his eyes full of anger.

Enter Duke FREDERICK, with Lords.

I

cannot live out of her company.

Duke F. You are a fool. -You, niece, provide your-
self;

If you out-stay the time, upon mine honour,
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 griev'd than I am.
Ros. I have more cause.

Cel. Thou hast not, cousin;
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? Rosalind lacks then the love,
Which teacheth thee, that thon 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,
Whither to go, and what to bear with us:
And do not seek to take your change upon you,

Duke F.Mistress, despatch you with your safest haste, To bear your griefs yourself, and leave me out:

And

get you from our court.

Ros. Me, uncle?

Duke F. You, cousin :

Within these ten days if that thou be'st found
So near our public court as twenty miles,
Thou diest for it.

Ros. I do beseech your grace,

Let me the knowledge of my fault bear with me;
If with myself I hold intelligence,

Or have acquaintance with mine own desires:
If that I do not dream, or be not frantic,
(As I do trust I am not,) then, dear uncle,
Never, so much as in a thought unborn,
Did I offend your highness.

Duke F. Thus do all traitors;
If their purgation did consist in words,
They are as innocent, as grace itself;-
Let it suffice thee, that I thrust thee not.

Ros. Yet your mistrust cannot make me a traitor:
Tell me whereon the likelihood depends.

Duke F. Thou art thy father's daughter, there's enough.

Ros. So was I,when your highness took his dukedom;
So was I, when your highness banish'd him :
Treason is not inherited, my lord;
Or, if we did derive it from our friends,
What's that to me? my father was no traitor :
Then, good my liege, mistake me not so much,
To think my poverty is treacherous!

Cel. Dear sovereign, hear me speak.
Duke F. Ay, Celia; we stay'd her for your sake,
Else had she with her father rang'd along.

Cel. I did not then entreat to have her stay,
It was your pleasure, and your own remorse;
I was too young that time to value her,
But now I know her: if she be a traitor,

Why so am I; we still have slept together,
Rose at an instant, learn'd, play'd, eat together;
And wheresoe'er we went, like Juno's swans,

Still we went coupled, and inseparable.

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.

Ros. Alas, what danger will it be to us,
Maids as we are, to travel forth so far?
Beauty provoketh thieves sooner, than gold.
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 gallaut curtle-ax upon my thigh,

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

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
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,
Toliberty, and not to banishment.

АСТ II.

SCENE I.-The Forest of Arden.

[Exeunt.

Duke F. She is too subtle for thee, and her smooth- Enter Duke senior, AMIENS, and other Lords, in the

ness,

Her very silence, and her patience,

Speak to the people, and they pity her.

Thou art a fool: she robs thee of thy name;

dress of 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

And thou wilt show more bright, and seem more vir- More free from peril, than the envious court?

tuous,

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 liege;

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 :-

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