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And wish for her sake, more than for Cel. Didst thou bear, without won. mine own,

dering how thy name should be hang'd and My fortunes were more able to relieve carved upon these trees? her :

Ros. I was seven of the nine days out But I am shepherd to another man, of the wonder, before you came; for look And do not shear the fleeces that I graze; here what I found on a palm-tree: I was My master is of churlish disposition, never so be-rhymed since Pythagoras' And little recks to find the way to heaven time, that I was an Irish rat, which I By doing deeds of hospitality;

can hardly remember. Besides, his cote, his flocks, and bounds Cel. Trow you, who hath done this? of feed,

Ros. Is it a man? Are now on sale, and at our sheepcote Cel And a chain, that you once wore, now,

about his neck: Change you colour ?:' By reason of bis absence, there is nothing

She does, but will not understand; That you will feed on; but what is, come

and playfully “ dallies with the innosee, And in my voice most welcome shall you

cence of love," till Celia pronounces be.

the name whose sweet syllables have Ros. What is be that shall buy bis all the while been heard whispering flock and pasture?

within her bosom. “ It is young Cor. That young swain that you saw Orlando.” “He is furnished like a here but erewbile,

hunter," quoth Celia ;-and the fair That little cares for buying any thing. fawn breathes—(a pretty pun)Ros. I pray thee, if it stand with an

« O, ominous! he comes to kill my heart." honesty, Buy thou the cottage, pasture, and the Orlando stands before her in the flock,

woods, and Rosalind in a moment And thou shalt have to pay for it of us.

forgets that she is a wanderer and an Cel. And we will mend thy wages: I

outcast. Her spirit is again borne up like this place,

into the air of joy as upon wings. Its And willingly could waste my time in it.

native buoyancy, a wbile depressed, Cor. Assuredly, the thing is to be sold;

expands anew; and her wit plays Go with me; if you like, upon report, The soil, the profit, and this kind of life,

round him,“ like harmless lightning

on a summer's night.” The theme is I will your very faithful feeder be, And buy it with your gold right suddenly.

, love! and she rallies him on his pas

[Ereunt,

sion

“There is a man that haunts the forest, And how like they the silvan-the,

that abuses our young plants with carpastoral life? Hear Touchstone.

ving Rosalind on their barks ; hangs odes « Touch. Truly, in respect of itself, it is upon hawthorns, and elegies on brambles; a good life; but in respect that it is a all, forsooth, deifying the name of Rosashepherd's life, it is naught. In respect lind: if I could meet that fancy-monger, that it is solitary, I like it very well; but I would give him some good counsel, for in respect that it is private, it is a very he seems to have the quotidian of love vile life. Now in respect it is in the upon him." fields, it pleaseth me well ; but in respect it is not in the court, it is tedious. As

In that joyful mood she dreams it is a spare life, look you, it fits my hu. the idea of being woo'd by him in mour well; but as there is no more her disguise; and who but “sweetplenty in it, it goes much against my est Sbakspeare, Fancy's child,” could stomacb."

80 delicately, so ingeniously, so na

turally, have carried on such courtBut Rosalind, how likes she to be

ship ? Orlando slides into it-and a shepherd-boy? Poor Rosalind!

we with him-as pleasantly as into she is not allowed even for a single

the enacting of a lover's part at some day to forget her sex. The very trees suspect and persecute her

imaginative masqueradeher doublet and hose are beginning Ros. I profess curing love by counto sit easy--but as the wind comes sel. by, she shrinks to miss the rustle of Orl. Did you ever cure any so? her petticoats.

Ros. Yes, one; and in this manner. The very trees bear love-ditties like He was to imagine me his love, his misblossoms, and all in praise of Rosa- tress ; and I set hiin every day to woo lind:

me: At which time would I, being but ed; but went she not there to look a movnish youth, grieve, be effeminate, for her father? We think she surely changeable, longing, and liking ; proud, did; but she seems to care little fantastical, apish, shallow, inconstant, full about the good elderly gentleman. of tears, full of smiles; for every passion She seldom strays far from the “Tuft something, and for no passion truly any of Olives”-“bere on the skirts of thing, as boys and women are for the the forest like a fringe upon a pettimost part cattle of this colour : would

coat.” There she abides,“ like the now like him, now loathe him; then en

coney that you see dwell where it is tertain him, then fors wear him; now

kindled.” Sweet wretch! She is weep for him, then spit at him; that I drave my suitor from his mad humour of

sometimes rather out of spirits. love, to a living humour of madness ;

Ros. Never talk to me, I will weep. which was, to forswear the full stream of

Cel. Do, I pr'ythee; but yet have the the world, and to live in a nook merely grace to consider, that tears do not become monastic: And thus I cured him."

& man.

Ros. But have I not cause to weep? Who could resist this ? Not Or Cel. As good cause as one would delando; for, though love-stricken, he sire; therefore weep. is full of the power of life; his pas. Ros. His very hair is of the dissemsion is a joy; bis fear is but slight bling colour! shadow, his hope strong sunshine; Cel. Something browner than Juand he has just escaped from dishonouring thraldom into a wild and He it seems is the deceiver-not she adventurous liberty in the forest, -she, wbo is one entire deceit.“ Nay where by the Duke he has been ta- certainly, there is no truth in him." ken into favour as Sir Rowland's Wicked hypocrite! she knows he is son. There is a mysterious spell all truth-all passion. Their hearts breathed over his whole being from and souls are one-and soon will that silver speech. Near the happy they be one flesh. But only hear close of the play, the Duke says to how she speaks of her own father! him

Ros. I met the Duke yesterday, and " I do remember in this shepherd-boy

bad much question with him. He asked Some lively touches of my daugbter's me, of what parentage I was ; I told him, favour."

of as good as he; so he laughed, and let And Orlando then answers

me go. But what talk we of fathers, when “My Lord, the first time that I ever saw

there is such a man as Orlando ?" him,

Ungrateful, undutiful, impious RosaMethought he was a brother to your lind, to prefer talking of a lover of a daughter."

week's standing, to a father of some That sweet thought had passed

eighteen years! “ This is too bad.” across his mind, at their first meet

Yet in spite of it all, Rosalind is a ing, although he did not tell the

the dearest favourite of the lady who “ shepherd-boy ;” and it inclines

knows “honour and virtue" well. him, in a moment, when Rosalind Nor can we well deny that after all she says-" I would cure you, if you deserves this beautiful eulogium,would but call me Rosalind, and « Everything about Rosalind come every day to my cot, and woo breathes of youth's sweet prime. me,” to answer, “Now, by the faith She is fresh as the morning, sweet of my love, I will; tell me wbere it as the dew-awakened blossoms, and is.” And is not this shepherd-boy, light as the breeze that plays among with “lively touches of my daughter's them. Her wit bubbles up and sparfavour,” a thousand times better kles like the living fountain, refreshthan a dead picture? It is a living ing all around. Her volubility is full-length picture even of Rosalind like the bird's song; it is the outin a fancy dress; and 'tis easy as pouring of a heart tilled to overflowdelightful to imagine it the very ing with life, love, and joy, and all original's own self-the “ slender sweet and affectionate impulses. She Rosalind”- the “ heavenly Rosa. has as much tenderness as mirth, Jind”_'tis “Love's young dream!” and in her most petulant raillery

Pray what took Rosalind to the there is a touch of softness—By this Forest of Arden? She was banishe hand it will not hurt a fly! As her

vivacity never lessens our impreg- cheated out of the deep delight of sion of her sensibility, so she wears fond imagination, and he sends it to her masculine attire without the her shadow. He is indeed “of ima. slightest impugnment of her deli- gination all compact." cacy. Shakspeare did not make the The impression left on our hearts modesty of his women depend on and minds by the character of Rosatheir dress. Rosalind has in truth lind, as it shines forth so natural, so

no doublet and hose in her dispo. sincere and truthful, through the dissition. How her heart seems to guise that emboldens her to put forth throb and flutter under her page's a power of innocent enchantment vest! What depth of love in her which had she been in her sex's hapassion for Orlando! whether dis- bit, her sex's native modesty—“maid. guised beneath a saucy playfulness, enly shame-facedness"--would have or breaking forth with a fond impa- partly restrained, “ in dim suffusion tience, or half betrayed in that beau. veiled,"_"a mixture of playfulness, tiful scene where she faints at the sensibility, and what the French sight of the 'kerchief stained with call naïveté, is,” says Mrs Jameson, his blood! Here her recovery of her with her usual fine tact, “ like a self-possession-her fears lest she delicious strain of music. There should have revealed her sex-her is a depth of delight, and a subtlepresence of mind, and quick-witted ty of words to express that deexcuse

light, which is enchanting. Yet "I pray you, tell your brother how well when we call to mind particular and I counterfeited,'

peculiar passages, we find that they and the characteristic playfulness

have a relative beauty and propriety,

which renders it difficult to separate which seems to return so naturally

them from the context, without inwith her recovered senses, are all as amusing as consistent. Then how

juring the effect. She says some of beautifully is the dialogue managed

the most charming things in the between herself and Orlando ! how

world, and some of the most huwell she assumes the airs of a saucy

morous; but we apply them as

phrases rather than as maxims, and page, without throwing off her feminine sweetness! How her wit flutters

remember them rather for their free as air over every subiect! With pointed felicity of expression, and what a careless grace, yet with what

fanciful application, than for their exquisite propriety!

general truth and depth of meaning.”

Yet is the stream of her thought. For innocence hath a privilege in her, it is a stream, not a lake, for 'tis ever To dignify arch jests and laughing eyes."" in motion and in murmur-often

Exquisite criticism! Orlando, in all much deeper than it seems to be these assignations, enjoys but the like a translucent water-gleam, that shadow, so it seems to him, of you think you can easily ford; but his Rosalind, but Rosalind feeds when you try, you are surprised to her innocent passion on the sub- find you must have recourse to swimstance of her Orlando. Her scheme ming through the “ liquid lapse," answers its purpose to a miracle. scarcely distinguishable even then, Creative in her happiness of plea. but by a grateful coolness, from the sant fancies that never flag, the re- air of heaven. presentative of Rosalind, before As to the freedom of some of her her lover's senses, becomes more expressions (and of Beatrice,) let it and more encircled with the lights be remembered, says the gentle lady, and shadows, the music and the who sees all feminities in their true fragrance, of the charm that hangs light, “ that this was not the fault of and breathes around “ another and Shakspeare or the women, but genethe same;" and he never wearies of rally of the age. Portia, Beatrice, such discourse. So faithfully has he and Rosalind, and the rest, lived in pledged his troth to that “gay de- times when more importance was ceiver," that he does not forget the attached to things than words; now supposed shepherd-boy, even when we think more of words than of wounded by the lioness. As to the things; and happy are we in these real Rosalind, he would have assured. late days of super-refinement, if we ly sent the handkerchief stained with are to be saved by our verbal morahis blood, so his love will not be lity.” It would puzzle the best of “ the chariest maids” of these days, the contrast between the port and “ the nicest of them all," to perso. bearing of the two princesses in disnate a shepherd - boy personating guise, and the scornful airs of the an enamoured full-grown man his real shepherdess. In the speeches lady-love in all her moods-even in of Phebe, and in the dialogue be“ a more coming on disposition"— tween her and Sylvius, Shakspeare with the tenth part of the spirit, and has anticipated all the beauties of twentieth part of the delicacy of the Italian pastoral, and surpassed Rosalind. A blush when no blush Tasso and Guarini. We find two of should be-an awkward knee-in- the most poetical passages of the turning when nobody was thinking play appropriated to Phebe; the about knees-a shrinking away from taunting speech to Sylvius, and the the male-touch when it should have description of Rosalind in her page's been met with a gentle tremor-a costume; which last is finer than face-averting from the cheek-kiss of the portrait of Bathyllus in Anafriendship mildly imitative of love, creon.” as if a beard might blast the blos. The lad Rosalind is irresistible; and soms,—these, and many other con- how he enjoys the punishment he sau. genial errors-guilty mistakings of cily inflicts on the imperious Acorninnocent meanings — foolish fears gatherer fallen head-over-ears in without any danger--and “ appre- love! hensions coming in clouds," when all should be serene as the blue sky " Why, what means this? Why do you --would betray the damsel, during

look on me ? the first act; so in pity of her failure I see no more in you than in the ordinary in the part of Rosalind, we let fall Of nature's sale-work ;-Od's my little the curtain, and call on the orchestra

life! to strike up the “ Auld Wife of I think, she means to tangle my eyes too: Ochtertyre," or of “Auchtermuchty." No, 'faith, proud mistress, hope not after

Love, we said, is the spirit of the Romance. Old Corin comes upon

'Tis not your inky brows, your black silk Rosalind and Celia when conversing

hair, about Orlando, and says,

sing

va.
Your bugle eye-balls, nor your cheek of

cream, Cor. Mistress, and master, you have That can entame my spirits to your woroft enquired

ship. After the shepherd that complaind of You foolish shepherd, wherefore do you love;

follow her, Who you saw sitting by me on the turf, Like foggy south, puffing with wind and Praising the proud disdainful shepherdess

rain? That was his mistress.

You are a thousand times a properer man, Cel.

Well, and what of him? Than she a woman: 'Tis such fools as Cor. If you will see a pageant truly

you, play'd,

That make the world full of ill-favour'd Between the pale complexion of true love

children ; And the red glow of scorn and proud dis- 'Tis pot her glass, but you, that flatters

it;

dain,

her ;

Go hence a little, and I shall conduct you,
If you will mark it.
Ros.

O, come, let us remove;
The sight of lovers feedeth those in love:
Bring us unto this sight, and you shall say
I'll prove a busy actor in their play."

The scenes with Sylvius and Pbebe, how full of nature! Scorn and disdain as livelily felt and shewn by a forest-maid, the pride, the triumph, and the tyranny of conquest, as by lady in a palace, at whose feet kneel “high lords and mighty earls.”

" Phebe,” says Mrs Jameson, truly, “ is quite an Arcadian coquette. A very amusing effect is produced by

And out of you she sees herself more pro

per, Than any of her lineaments can shew her, But, mistress, know yourself; down on

your knees, And thank Heaven, fasting, for a good

man's love; For I must tell you friendly in your ear, Sell when you can ; you are not for all

markets ; Cry the man mercy; love him; take his

offer ; Foul is most foul, being foul to be a scoffer. So take her to thee, shepherd ;-fare you

well. Phe. Sweet youth, I pray you chide a

year together;

I had rather hear you chide, than this grant ? and will you persevere to enjoy man woo.

her? Ros. He's fallen in love with her soul. Oli. Neither call the giddiness of it ness, and she'll fall in love with my anger; in question, the porerty of her, the small if it be so, as fast as she answers thee with acquaintance, my sudden wooing, nor her frowning looks, I'll sauce her with bitter sudden consenting; but say with me, I words. - Why look you so upon me? love Aliena; say with her, that she loves

Phe. For no ill will I bear you. me; consent with both, that we may enRos. I pray you, do not fall in love joy each other; it shall be to your good ; with me."

for my father's house, and all the revenue Poor Phebe! we begin to pity her that was old Sir Rowland's, will I estate -and for the same reason-almost upon you, and here live and die a shepas much as we do poor Sylvius! Not herd. more humbled is she by the “sweet

Orl. You have my consent. Let your youth," whom she prays to chide a

wedding be to-morrow: thither will I year together,” than is her swain by

invite the Duke, and all his contented her when she employs him as a go

followers : go you, and prepare Aliena;

for, look you, here comes my Rosalind. between, telling him not

Ros. God save you, brother. “ To look for farther recompense,

Orl. And you, fair sister. Than thine own gladness that thou art

Ros. Oh, my dear Orlando, how it employed."

grieves me to see thee wear thy heart in What could Rosalind ask of Phebe a scarf. that she would not do? We blush Orl. It is my arm. as we pause for your reply. And Ros. I thought, thy heart had been heard you ever tell of so lowly a wounded with the claws of a lion. swain as Sylvius, who says,

Orl. Wounded it is, but with the eyes “ So holy and so perfect is my love,

of a lady. And I in such a poverty of grace,

Ros. Did your brother tell you how I That I should think it a most plenteous

counterfeited to swoon, when he showed crop,

me your handkerchief? To glean the broken ears after the man

Orl. Ay, and greater wonders than that. That the main harvest reaps.”

Ros. Oh, I know where you are :

Nay, 'tis true ; there was never any thing And then he listens, unreproach

so sudden, but the fight of two rams, and fully, to his savage mistress, while

Cæsar's thrasonical brag of I came, saw, passionately and poetically she paints

and overcame. For your brother and my to the life the imagined man for whom sister no sooner met, but they looked; no she dies. 'Tis a pretty passage as sooner looked, but they loved; no sooner any in “ As You Like it ;" it shews loved, but they sighed; no sooner sighed, how by “ the flame,” may even the but they asked one another the reason ; commonest-the meanest spirit be no sooner knew the reason, but they inspired, and we almost adınire the sought the remedy: and in these degrees more than voluble, the eloquent have they made a pair of stairs to marwood-lass, whom her stars have des. riage, which they will climb incontinent, tined, after no very grievous disap. or else be incontinent before marriage; pointment in her ewe-love, in good they are in the very wrath of love, and time to be Mrs Sylvius of “ The Tuft they will together; clubs cannot part of Olives."

them." Celia, too, the affectionate, faithful Dr Samuel Johnson saith, “ of this friend, who sympathizing with her sis- play the fable is wild and pleasing. I ter's love, thought not that such a mis know not how the ladies will apfortune was ever to befall herself- prove the facility with which both Celia, too, has taken the forest fever, Rosalind and Celia give away their her pulse is up to a hundred at the hearts. To Celia much may be forlowest, and she should go to her bed. given for the heroism of her friendShe has caught the infection from a ship.” The ladies, we are sure, have man, who, by his own account, only forgiven Rosalind. What say they a few hours before was “a wretched to Celia ? They look down-blush ragged man, overgrown with hair.” -shake head-smile--and say, “Ce

" Orl. Is't possible, that on so little lia knew Oliver was Orlando's broacquaintance you should like her ? That ther, and in her friendship for Rosabut seeing, you should love her? and lind, she felt how delightful it would loving, woo ? and wooing, she should be for them two to be sisters-in-law

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