Obrázky stránek

Ref. No, faith, hate him not, for my fake. .
Cel. Why should I 'not? doth he not deserve 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. Mistress, dispatch you


safest haste,
get you from our court.

. Rof. Me, uncle ?

Duke. You, cousin :
Within these ten days if that thou be'st found
So near our publick court as twenty miles,
Thou diest for ic.

Roj. 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 my own desires;
If that I do not dream, or be not frantick,
(As I do trust, I am not) then, dear uncle,
Never, so much as in a thought unborn,
Did I offend your highness.

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

. Yet your miftruft 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 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,

I not?]-love him.



your fake,

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. Ay, Celia ; we but stay'd her for
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 Nept 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 inteparable.

Duke. She is too subtle for thee ; and her smoothness,
Her very filence, 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;
Firm and irrevocable is


doom Which I have past upon her ; she is banish’d.

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

Duke. You are a fool ;-You, niece, provide yourself ; If you out-stay the time, upon mine honour, And in the greatness of my word, you die.

[Exeunt Duke, &c. 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.

Rof. I have more cause.


your own remorse ; ]-the result of your own feelings. n virtuous, -excellent.


Cel. Thou hast not, cousin;
Pr’ythee, be cheerful: know'st thou not, the duke
Hath banish'd me his daughter ?

Ref. That he hath not.

Cel. No? hath not ? Rosalind lacks then the love
Which teachethome that she and I are 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,
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.

Rof. Why, whither shall we go ?
Cel. To seek my uncle in the forest of Arden.

Ref. Alas, what danger will it be to us,
Maids as we are, to travel forth so far?
Beauty provoketh thieves sooner than gold.

Cel. l'll put myself in poor and mean attire, And with a kind of Pumber fmirch

my The like do you; fo shall we pass along, And never stir assailants.

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-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 ;

many other mannish cowards have,


o“ Which teacheth thee that thou and I am one :" Pumber mirch my face;}-tain my complexion brown. 9 curtle-ax]-cutlass, broad-sword. P'll have a swaggering. 'mannijo cowards ] - male cowards. O 2


That do outface it with their semblances.

Cel. What shall I call thee, when thou art a man?

Rof. I'll have no worse a name than Jove's own page; And therefore look you call me, Ganimed. But what will you be callid ?

Cel. Something that hath a reference to my state; No longer Celia, but Aliena.

Ref. 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

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.




The Forest of Arden.

Enter Duke senior, Amiens, and two or three lords like

forefters. Duke Sen. 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 counfellors


That feelingly persuade me what I am.
Sweet are the uses of adversity ;
Which, like the road, ugly and venomous,
Wears yet a precious jewel in his head :
And this our life, exempt from publick 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 stubborness of fortune
Into so quiet and so sweet a ftile.

Duke Sen. Come, shall we go and kill us venison ?
And yet it irks me, the poor dappled fools,
Being native burghers of this desert city,
Should, in their own confines, with 'forked heads
Have their round haunches gor'd.

i 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:
To the which place a poor sequestred 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
Cours'd one another down his innocent nose
In piteous chase : and thus the hairy fool,
Much marked of the melancholy Jaques,

forked heads]-barbed arrows.

O 3

u brawls]-purls, murmurs.


« PředchozíPokračovat »