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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 inseparate." [ness,
Duke F. She is too subtle for thee; and her smoothHer very silence, and her patience, Speak to the people, and they pity her. Thou art a fool; she robs thee of thy name; (ous, And thou wilt show more bright, and seem more virtuWhen 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 : 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.
Ros. I have more cause.
Thou hast not, cousin.
That he hath not.
1 inseparable : in f. e.
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,
Were it not better,
Cel. What shall I call thee, when thou art a man?
Ros. I'll have no worsero 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 essay'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 To liberty, and not to banishment.
2 worse a : in f. e.
ACT II. SCENE I.-The Forest of Arden. Enter DUKE, Senior, AMIENS, and other 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 not the penalty of Adam, The seasons' difference, or 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, 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.
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 ?
Indeed, my lord,
1 as: in f. e. ? Fenton, in 1569, tells us "there is found in heads of old and great toads, a stone which they call borax or steton : it is most commonly found in the head of a he-toad."-Knight. 3 Barbed arrows,
Did come to languish : and, indeed, my lord,
But what said Jaques ?
1 Lord. O! yes, into a thousand similes. First, for his weeping in the needless stream; " Poor deer," quoth he, “ thou mak’st a testament As worldlings do, giving thy sum of more To that which hath too much.” Then, being there
alone, Left and abandon'd of his velvet friends ; “T is right," quoth he; thus misery doth part The flux of company.” Anon, a careless herd, Full of the pasture, jumps along by him, And never stays to greet him: “Ay,' quoth Jaques, "Sweep on, you fat and greasy citizens; *T is just the fashion: wherefore do you look Upon that poor and broken bankrupt there ?" Thus most invectively he pierceth through The body of the country, city, court, Yea, and of this our life, swearing, that we Are mere usurpers, tyrants, and what's worse, To fright the animals, and kill them up In their assign'd and native dwelling place.
Duke S. And did you leave him in this contemplation ?
2 Lord. We did, my lord, weeping and commenting Upon the sobbing deer. Duke s.
Show me the place. I love to cope him in these sullen fits, For then he's full of matter. 2 Lord. I'll bring you to him straight. Exeunt.
SCENE II.-A Room in the Palace. Enter Duke FREDERICK, Lords, and Attendants. Duke F. Can it be possible that no man saw them ? It cannot be : some villains of my court
1 had : in f. e.
Are of consent and sufferance in this.
1 Lord. I cannot hear of any that did see her.
2 Lord. My lord, the roynish' clown, at whom so oft
hither; If he be absent bring his brother to me, I'll make him find him. Do this suddenly, And let not search and inquisition quail To bring again these foolish runaways. [Exeunt.
SCENE III.-Before Oliver's House.
Enter Orlando and ADAM, meeting. Orl. Who's there? Adam. What, my young master ?—0, my gentle
Orl. Why, what's the matter?
O, unhappy youth !
2 Foolish. 3 within : in f. e.