The other is daughter to the banish'd duke,
And here detain'd by her ufurping uncle,
To keep his daughter company; whofe loves
Are dearer than the natural bond of fifters.
But I can tell you, that of late this duke
Hath ta'en difpleasure '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 fake;
And, on my life, his malice 'gainst the lady
Will fuddenly break fórth.-Sir, fare you well;
Hereafter, in a better world than this,*
I fhall defire more love and knowledge of you.
ORL. I reft much bounden to you: fare you well!

[Exit LE BEAU.
Thus muft I from the fmoke 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?

Ros. 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.

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

2

fc. iii:

in a better world than this,] So, in Coriolanus, A& III. "There is a world elsewhere." STEEVENS.

CEL. But is all this for your father? Ros. No, fome of it is for my child's father:" O, how full of briars is this working-day world!

CEL. They are but burs, coufin, thrown upon thee in holyday foolery; if we walk not in the trodden paths, our very petticoats will catch them. Ros. I could fhake them off my coat; thefe burs are in my heart.

CEL. Hem them away.

Ros. I'would try; if I 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.

CEL. O, a good with upon you! you will try in time, in defpite of a fall.-But, turning these jests out of fervice, 'let us talk in good carneft: Is it poffible, on fuch a fudden, you'fhould fall into fo strong a liking with old fir Rowland's youngest fon?

Ros. 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.

Ros. No 'faith, hate him not, for my fake.

CEL. Why fhould I not? doth he not deferve well?

3 for my child's father:] i. e. for him whom I hope to marry, and have children by. THEOBALD.

By this kind of chafe,] That is, by this way of following the argument. Dear is ufed by Shakspeare in a double fenfe for beloved, and for hurtful, hated, baleful. Both fenfes are authorised, and both drawn from etymology; but properly, beloved is dear, and hateful is dere. Rofalind ufes dearly in the good, and Celia in the bad fenfe. JOHNSON.

s Why Should I not? doth he not deferve well?] Celia answers Rofalind, (who had defired her "not to hate Orlando, for her

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.

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

I do befeech your grace,

Ros.
Let me the knowledge of my fault bear with me:
If with myself I hold intelligence,

Or have acquaintance with mine 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 F.

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.

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

fake,") as if she had faid-" love him, for my fake:" to which the former replies, "Why fhould I not [i. e. love him]? So, in the following paffage, in King Henry VIII:

Which of the peers

"Have uncontemn'd gone by him, or at least

"Strangely neglected?"

Uncontemn'd must be understood as if the author had written-not contemn'd; otherwife the fubfequent words would convey a meaning directly contrary to what the fpeaker intends. MALONE.

DUKE P. 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 fovereign, hear me fpeak.

DUKE F. Ay, Celia; we 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 fo am I; we ftill have flept together, Rose at an instant, learn'd, play'd, eat together;" And wherefoe'er we went, like Juno's fwans, Still we went coupled, and infeparable.

DUKE F. She is too fubtle for thee; and her smoothness,

Her very filence, and her patience,

Speak to the people, and they pity her.
Thou art a fool: fhe robs thee of thy name;

6

remorfe ;] i. e. compaffion. So, in Macbeth:

Stop the accefs and paffage to remorse." STEEVENS. 7 we still have flept together,

Rofe at an inftant, learn'd, play'd, eat together;] Youthful friendship is defcribed in nearly the fame terms in a book published the year in which this play first appeared in print. "They ever went together, plaid together, eate together, and ufually flept together, out of the great love that was between them." Life of Guzman de Alfarache, folio, printed by Edward Blount, 1623, P. I. B. I. c. viii. p. 75. REED.

And thou wilt fhow more bright, and feem more

virtuous,"

When she is gone: then open not thy lips;
Firm and irrevocable is my doom

Which I have pass'd upon her; fhe is banish'd. CEL. Pronounce that fentence then on me, my liege;

I cannot live out of her company.

DUKE F. You are a fool :-You, niece, provide
yourself;

If you out-ftay the time, upon mine honour,
And in the greatness of my word, you die.

[Exeunt Duke FREDERICK and Lords.
CEL. Omy poor Rofalind! 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 haft not, coufin;? Pr'ythee, be cheerful: know'ft thou not, the duke Hath banish'd me his daughter?

Ros.

That he hath not.

CEL. No? hath not? Rofalind lacks then the love Which teacheth thee that thou and I am one: "

8

6 And thou wilt how more bright, and seem more virtuous,] When fhe was feen alone, fhe would be more noted. JOHNSON.

7 Thou haft not, coufin;] Perhaps our author wrote:

8

Some word is wanting to the metre.

Indeed thou haft not, coufin.

Rofalind lacks then the love

STEEVENS.

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

Either reading may ftand. The fenfe of the established text is not remote or obfcure. Where would be the abfurdity of saying, You know not the law which teaches you to do right? JOHNSON.