And pity her for her good father's fake;
And, on my life, his malice 'gainst the lady
Will fuddenly break forth.-Sir, fare you well;
Hereafter, in a better world than this,

I fhall defire more love and knowledge of you.

[Exit, Orla. I reft much bounden to you: fare ye well! Thus muft I from the smoke into the fmother; From tyrant Duke unto a tyrant brother: But, heavenly Rofalind!

[Exit,

Cel. Why, coufin; why, Rofalind ;-Cupid have mercy!-not a word?

Rof. Not one to throw at a dog.

Cel. No, thy words are too precious to be 'caft away upon curs; throw fome of them at me; come, lame me with reafons.

Rof. Then there were two coufins laid up; when the one should be lam'd with reasons, and the other mad without any.

Cel. But is all this for

your father?

Rof. No, fome of it is for my child's father. Oh, how full of briars is this working-day world!

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

Rof. I could thake them off my coat; these burs are in my heart.

4

Cel. Hem them away.

for my father's child.] The old editions have it, for my child's father, that is, as it is explained by Mr. Theobald, for my future bufband. JOHNSON.

Rf

Rof. I would try; if I could cry, hem, and have him.

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 these jefts out of fervice, let us talk in good earneft. Is it poffible on fuch a fudden you should fall into fo ftrong a liking with old fir Rowland's youngest son?

5

Roj. The Duke my father lov'd his father dearly. Cel. Doth it therefore enfue, that you fhould love his fon dearly? By this kind of chafe, I fhould hate him, for my father hated his father dearly; yet I hate not Orlando.

Rof. No, faith, hate him not, for my fake.
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. Cel. With his eyes full of anger.

Duke. Miftrefs, difpatch you with

And get you from our court.
Rof. Me, Uncle?

Duke. You, cousin :

your safest hafte,

Within thefe ten days if that thou be'ft found
So near our publick court as twenty miles,
Thou dieft for it.

Rof. I do befeech your grace,

Let me the knowledge of my fault bear with me:

5 by this kind of chafe,] That is, by this way of fellowing the argument. Dar is ufed by Shakespeare in a double fenfe, for beloved, and for burtful, hated, bale ul. Both fenfes are authorised, and both drawn from etymology, but properly be loved is dear, and hateful is dere. Rofalind ufes dearly in the good, and Celia in the bad fenfe, JOHNSON.

If

If with myself I hold intelligence,

Or have acquaintance with my own defires;
If that I do not dream, or be not frantick,
(As I do truft, I am not) then, dear uncle,
Never, fo much as in a thought unborn
Did I offend your highness.

Duke. Thus do all traitors;

If their purgation did confift in words,
They are as innocent as grace itself.-
Let it fuffice thee, that I trust thee not.

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

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

Rof. So was I when your highness took his duke

dom;

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 fo much,
To think my poverty is treacherous.

Cel. Dear fovereign, hear me fpeak.
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 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 fhe be a traitor,
Why foam I; we still have flept together,
Rofe at an inftant, learn'd, play'd, eat together;
And wherefoe'er we went, like Juno's fwans,

Still we went coupled, and infeparable.

Duke. She is too fubtle for thee; and her fmoothnefs,

Her very filence and her patience,

Speak to the people, and they pity her.

Thou

Thou art a fool: fhe robs thee of thy name;
And thou wilt fhow more bright, and feem more
virtuous, 6

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

Which I have paft upon her :-She 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 yourfelf;

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?
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 caufe.

Cel. Thou haft not, coufin;

Pr'ythee, be cheerful: know'st thou not, the Duke Has banifh'd me his daughter?

Rof. That he hath not.

Cel. No? hath not? 7 Rofalind lacks then the love

6 And thou wilt fhow more bright, and SEEM more virtuous,] This implies her to be fome how remarkably defective in virtue which was not the fpeaker's thought. The poet doubtlefs wrote,

-and SHINE more virtuous.

i. e. her virtues would appear more fplendid, when the luftre of her coufin's was away. WARBURTON.

The plain meaning of the old and true reading is, that when she was feen alone, fhe would be more noted. JOHNSON.

7

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 herfelf, fhe could not lack that love which Celia complains fhe does. WARBURTON.

Either reading may ftand. The fenfe 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.

Which teacheth thee that thou and I am one.
Shall we be fundred? fhall we part, fweet girl?
No, let my father seek another heir.
Therefore devife 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 canft, I'll go along with thee.
Rof. Why, whither fhall we go?

Cel. To feek my uncle in the foreft of Arden.
Rof. Alas, what danger will it be to us,
Maids as we are, to travel forth fo far?
Beauty provoketh thieves fooner than gold.

Cel. I'll put myself in poor and mean attire,
And with a kind of umber fmirch my face;
The like do you; fo fhall we pass along,
And never ftir affailants.

Rof. 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,

A boar fpear in my hand; and (in my heart
Lie there what hidden woman's fear there will)
I'll have a swashing and a martial outfide;

I

As many other mannith cowards have,

That do outface it with their femblances.

Cel. What fhall I call thee, when thou art a man? Roft I'll have no worfe a name than Jove's own

page;

And therefore, look, you call me, Ganimed.

8 take your change upon you,] In all the later editions, from Mr. Rowe's to Dr. Warburton's, change is altered to charge, without any reafon. JOHNSON.

9 curtle-axe, or cutlace, a broad fword.

I'll have] Sir T. Hanmer, for we'll have.

JOHNSON.

JOHNSON.

But