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Which teacheth Me that thou and I am one:
Rof: Why, whither shall we go?
Rof. Alas, what danger will it be to us,
Cel. I'll put my self in poor and mean attire,
Rof. Were't not better,
Cel. What shall I call thee, when thou art a man?
Cel. Something that hath a reference to my ftate : No longer Celia, but Aliena.
Which teacheth Me for if Rosalind had learn'd to think Celia one Part of her Self, She could not lack that love which Celia complains She does. My Emendation is confirm'd by what Celia says when she first comes upon the Stage.
Rof. But, Cousin, what if we assaid to steal The clownish Fool out of your father's Court? Would he not be 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 safeft way To hide us from pursuit that will be made After my flight : now go we in content To Liberty, and not to Banishment. [Exeunt. RTUCCESSEDUR
A CT II. SCENE, Arden FOREST. Enter Duke Senior, Amiens, and two or three Lords
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, (4) The Seasons' difference; as, the icie phang, 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.
(4) Here feel we not the Penalty.) What was the Penalty of Adam, hinted at by our Poet? The being sensible of the Difference of the Seasons. The Duke says, the Cold and Effe&s of the Winter feelingly persuade him what he is. How does he not then feel the Penalty: Doubtless, the Text must be reford as I have corrected it : and 'tis obvious in the Course of these Notes, how often not and but by Mistake have chang'd Place in ous Author's former Editions.
weet are the uses of Adversity,
Ami. I would not change it; happy is your Grace, Chat can translate the stubbornness of fortune nto so quiet and so sweet a style.
Duke Sen. Come, shall we go and kill us venison ?
i Lord. Indeed, my Lord,
Duke Sen. But what faid J aques ?
i Lord. O yes, into a thousand fimilies.
Left and abandon'd of his velvet friends ;
tion? 2 Lord. We did, my Lord, weeping and commenting Upon the fobbing deer.
Duke Sen. Show me the place ;
2 Lord. I'll bring you to him straight. [Exeunt. SCEN E changes to the PALACE again.
Enter Duke Frederick with Lords. Duke. AN it be possible, that no man faw them?
i Lord. I cannot hear of any that did see her.
2 Lord. My Lord, the roynith Clown, at whom so of:
nd she believes, where ever they are gone, hat Youth is surely in their company. Duke. Send to his brother, fetch that Gallant hither : 'he be absent, bring his brother to me, Il make him find him ; do this suddenly ; .nd let not Search and Inquisition quail o bring again these foolish runaways. [Exeunt, SCEN E changes to OLIVER's House.
Enter Orlando and Adam. rla. HO's there?
? my gentle master, Oh, my sweet master, O you memory, )f old Sir Rowland! why, what make you here? Vhy are you virtuous ? why do people love Ind wherefore are you gentle, strong, and valiant ? Why would you be so fond to overcome The bonny Priser of the humorous Duke? Pour Praise is come too swiftly home before you. (now you not, master, to some kind of men Cheir graces serve them but as enemies ? No more do yours; your virtues, gentle master, Are fanctified and holy traitors to you. Oh, what a world is this, when what is comely invenoms him that bears it!
Orla. Why, what's the matter ?
Adam. O unhappy youth,
overheard him, and his practices :