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our c inversing togeather with such private familiarities, live in your wonted favour; for if you banish her, myselfe, that custome had wrought an unyon of our nature, and as copartner of her harde fortunes, will participate in exile the sympathie of our affections such a secret love, that we some part of her extremities.”—ROSALYNDE, p. 28. have two bodies and one soule. Then marvel not (great Torismond) if, seeing my friend distrest, I finde myselfe (5) SCENE III.-Say what thou canst, I'll go along with perplexed with a thousand sorrowes; for her vertuous and
thee. ] “Why then doth my Rosalynd grieve at the frowne honourable thoughts (which are the glories that maketh of Torismond, who by offering her a prejudice proffers her women excellent) they bo such as may challenge love, and
a greater pleasure ? and more (mad lasse) to be melanrace out suspition. Her obedience to your majestie I choly, when thou hast with thee Alinda, a friend who referre to the censure of your own eye, that since her wil be a faithful copartner of al thy misfortunes; who fathers exile hath smothered al griefs with patience, and hath left her father to follow thee, and chooseth rather to in the absence of nature, hath honored you with all dutie, brooke al extremities then to forsake thy presence. What, as her owne father by nouriture, not in word uttering any Rosalynd, discontent, nor in thought (as far as my conjecture may reach) hammering on revenge; only in all her actions
Solamen miseris socios habuisse doloris. seeking to please you, and to win my favor. Her wisdome, Cheerly, woman; as wee have been bed-fellowes in royaltie, silence, chastitie, and other such rich qualities, I need not we wil be felow mates in povertie: I wil ever be thy decypher; onely it rests for me to conclude in one word, Alinda, and thou shalt ever rest to me Rosalynd ; so shall that she is innocent. If then, fortune who tryumphs in the world canonize our friendship, and speake of Rosalynd variety of miseries, hath presented some envious person (as and Alinda, as they did of Pilades and Orestes. And if minister of her intended stratagem) to tainte Rosalynde ever fortune smile, and we returne to our former honour, with any surmise of treason, let him be brought to her then folding our selves in the sweete of our friendship, we face, and confirme his accusation by witnesses ; which shal merily say (calling to mind our forepassed miseries), proved, let her die, and Alinda wil execute the massacre. If none can avouch any confirmed relation of her intent,
Olim hæc meminisse juvabit.”— use justice, my lord, it is the glory of a king, and let her
ROSALYNDE, p. 31.
aspect of grave
the representative of our author's sixth age is a senile personage, bending with years, attired in a long furred robe, his feet in slippers, and “spectacles on nose. Last scene of all exhibits the man of eighty, blind and helpless, with one foot in the tomb already gaping to receive him.
For further information on this subject, the reader may consult two elaborate articles, one in Volume xxvii. of tho “Archäologia,” the other, in the Gentleman's Magazine, for May, 1853: to the medieval representations of the ages of life there recorded, we will add one hitherto undescribed, being a series of fourteen subjects engraved on a Monumental Brass of the date of 1187, preserved in the Hôpital S. Marie, Ypres, in Belgium.
(1) SCENE VII.
-All the world's a stage,
His acts being seren ages.]
In that miscellaneous collection of the fifteenth century, denominated “ Arnold's Chronicle,” is a chapter entitled “THE VIJ AGES OF MAN LIVING IN THE WORLD."- The first age is infancie, and lastyth from the byrth unto vij yere of age. The ij is childhood, and endurith unto xv yere age. The iij age is adholoceneye, and endurith unto xxv yere of age. The iiij age is youthe, and endurith unto XXXV yere age. The v age is manhood, and endurith unto 1 yere age. The vi age is elde, and lasteth unto lxx yere age. The vij age of man is crepill, and endurith unto dethe.” But the favourite mode of inculcating the moral of human life has been by pictorial illustration; in Shakespeare's time, as in France at the present day, the subject was a popular theme for prints, broadsides, and ballads. An Italian engraving of the sixteenth century, by Christopher Bertello, is still extant, valuable for its intrinsic merit, and interesting from its analogy to the exquisite moralization of Jaques. The school-boy is carrying his books; the lover, a youth of twenty, bears branch of myrtle, and at his feet is a young Cupid bending his bow; the soldier, armed cap-d-pie, is "bearded like the pard;" the justice has an
(2) SCENE VII.- Re-enter Orlando, with Adam.] The scene in which Orlando confronts the banished Duke and his companions in the forest, demanding food for his famished retainer, is closely copied from the novel :
It chaunced that day, that Gerismond, the lawfull King of France banished by Torismond, who with a lustio crue of outlawes lived in that forest, that day in honour of his birth made a feast to all his bolde yeomen, and frolickt it with store of wine and venison, sitting all at a long table under the shadow of lymon trees. To that place by chance fortune conducted Rosader, who seeing such a cru of brave men, having store of that for want of which hee and Adam perished, hee stept boldly to the boords end, and saluted the company thus :
" Whatsoever thou be that art maister of these lustie squiers, I salute thee as graciously as a man in extreame distresse may: know, that I and a fellow friend of mine are here famished in the forrest for want of food : perish wee must, unlesse relieved by thy favours. Therefore, if thou be a gentleman, give meate to men, and to such as are everie way woorthic of life. Let the proudest squire that sits at thy table rise and incounter with mee in any honorable point of activitie whatsoever, and if hee and thou prove me not a man, send me away comfortlesse. If thou refuse this, as a niggard of thy cates, I will have amonst you with my sword ; for rather wil I dye valiantly, then perish with so cowardly an extreame. Gerismond, ACT III.
looking him earnestly in the face, and seeing so proper a gentleman in so bitter a passion, was mooved with so great pitie, that rising from the table, he tooke him by the hand and baulde him welcome, willing him to sit downe in his place, and in his roome not onely to eat his fill, but the lord of the feast. Gramercy, sir, (quoth Rosader,) but I have a feeble friend that lyes hereby famished almost for food, aged and therefore lesse able to abide the extremitie of hunger then my selfe, and dishonour it were for me to taste one crumme, before I made him partner of my fortunes :
therefore I will runne and fetch him, and then I will gratefully accept of your proffer. Away hies Rosader to Adam Spencer, and tels him the newes, who was glad of so happie fortune, but so feeble he was that he could not go; wherupon Rosader got him up on his backe, and brought him to the place. Which when Gerismond and his men saw, they greatly applauded their league of friendship; and Rõsadler, having Gerismonds place assigned him, would not sit there himselfo, but set downe Adam Spencer."-ROSALYNDE, p. 53.
(1) SCENE I.-Seek him with candle.] Referring, it is supposed, to the passage in St. Luke, ch. V. ver. 8:“ Either what woman having ten pieces of silver, if she lose one piece, doth not light a canelle, and sweep the house, and seek diligently till she find it?'
(2) SCENE II.--lnd thou, thrice-croirneil queen of night.] Johnson conjectured this was an allusion to the triple character of Proserpine, Cynthia, and Diana, given by some mythologists to the same goddess :
" Terrel, lustrat, agil, Proserpina, Luna, Diana,
Ima, superna, feras, sceptro, sulgore, sagittis ;' but Mr. Singer quotes a passage from one of Chapman's Hymns, which he thinks was probably in Shakespeare's mind :
** Nature's bright eye-sight, and the Night's fair soul,
That with thy Iriple forehead dost control
Ilymnus in Cynthiam, 1594. (3) SCENE II.-I was never so be-rhymed since Pythagoras' time, that I was an Irish rat.] Rosalind is a very learned lady. She alludes to the Pythagorean doctrine, which teaches that souls transmigrate from one animal to another, and relates that in his time she was an Irish rat, and by some metrical charm was rhymed to death. The power of killing rats with rhymes Donne mentions in his Satires, and Temple in his Treatises. Dr. Grey has produced a similar passage from Randolph :
Johnsox. (4) SCENE II.-Gargantua's mouth.). “Although there had been no English translation of Rabelais in Shakespeare's time, yet it is evident, from several notices, that a chap-book history of the giant Garagantua, who swal. lowed five pilgrims, their staves and all, in a salad, was very popular in this country in the sixteenth century. The * witless devices of Gargantua' are decried among the vain and lewd books of the age' by Edward Dering, in his epistle to the reader, prefixed to A Brief and Necessary Instruction, 1572. The history of Garagantua formed one of the pieces in the singular library of Captain Cox, so ludicrously described by Lancham, in the Letter from Kenilworth, 1575 :-King Arthurz book, Huon of Burdeaus, Friar Rous, Howleglass, and Gargantua. The monstrous fables of Garagantua' are also enumerated among many other 'infortunate treatises' in Hanmer's Eusebius, 1577. In the books of the Stationers' Company for 1592, is found an entry of 'Gargantua his Prophecie;' and in those for 1594 of a booke entitled the History of Garagantua.'”—HALLIWELL.
(5) SCENE III.--I vill not to wedding rith thee.] These lines are probably quoted from the old ballads mentioned in the following entries on the Registers of the Stationers' Company, 1581-5:
printe A Ballat of O swete Olyver, Leave
(6) SCENE V.-.And why, I pray you ?] Compare the parallel scene in “Rosalynde:";
“Ganimede, overhearing all these passions of Montanus, could not brooke the crueltie of Phabe, but starting from behind the bush said: And if, damzell, you fled from mee, I would transforme you as Daphne to a bay, and then in contempt trample your branches under my feet. Phwebe at this sodlaine replye was amazed, especially when sheo saw so faire a swaine as Ganimede ; blushing therefore, she would have bene gone, but that he held her by the hand, anı prosecuted his reply thus: What, shepheardesse, so faire and so cruell? Disdaine beseemes not cottages, nor coynesse maills; for either they be condemned to be too proud, or too froward. Take heed, faire nymph, that in despising love, you be not over-reacht with love, and in shaking off all, shape yourselfe to your owne shadow, and so with Narcissus prove passionat and yet unpitied. Oft have I heard, and sometime have I seene, high disdaine turned to hot desires, Because thou art beautifull be not so coy : as there is nothing more fair, so there is nothing more fading ; as momentary as the shaddowes which growes from a clowdy sunne. Such (my faire shepheardesse) as disdaine in youth desire in age, and then are they hated in the winter, that might have been loved in the prime. A wringled mayd is like to a parched rose, that is cast up in coffers to please the smell, not worne in the hand to content the eye.
There is no folly in love to had I wist, and therefore be rulde by mee.
Love while thou art yoong, least thou be disdained when thou art olde. Beautie nor time cannot be recalde, and if thou love, like of Montanus ; for if his desires are many, so his deserts are great.' ROSALYNDE, P. 97.
(7) SCENE V.
Dead shepherd ! now I find thy saw of might;
Who ever loo'd, that loc'd not at first sight?] The “dead shepherd ” here apostrophisod was Marlowe, and the line Phebe quotes is from his once popular poem of “ Hero and Leander," first published in 1598:
“ It lies not in our power to love or hate,
For will in us is over-ruld by fate.
P. 10, Edit. 1821.
Shakespeare has before referred to this favourite poem in ". The Two Gentlemen of Verona," Act I. Sc. 1.
ACT IV (1) SCENE III.
bledde, which made him conjecture it was some friend of in which hurtling.
his. Whereuppon drawing more nigh, he might easily From miserable slumber I avak'.]
discerne his visage, perceived by his phisnomie that it was
his brother Saladyne, which drove Rosader into a deepe The touching incident of the meeting of the two brothers passion, as a man perplexed at the sight of so unexpected is thus narrated in Lodge's story :-"Saladlync, wearie with a chance, marvelling what should drive his brother to wandring up and downe, and hungry with long fasting, traverse those secrete desarts, without any companie, in finding a little cave by the side of a thicket, eating such such distresse and forlorne sorte. But the present time fruite as the forest did affoord, and contenting himselfe craved no such doubting ambages, for he must erther with such drinke as nature had provided and thirst made resolve to hazard his life for his reliefe, or else steale delicate, after his repast he fell in a dead sleepe. As thus away and leave him to the crueltie of the lyon. In he lay, a hungry lyon came hunting downe the edge of the which doubt hee thus briefly debated with himselfe. grove for pray, and espying Saladyne began to ceaze upon With that his brother began to stirre, and the lyon to him : but seeing he lay still without any motion, he left rowse himselfe, whereupon Rosader sodainly charged him to touch him, for that lyons hate to prey on dead car- with the boare speare, and wounded the lion very sore at kasses; and yet desirous to have some foode, the lyon lay the first stroke. The beast feeling himselfe to have a downe and watcht to see if he would stirre. While thus mortall hurt, leapt at Rosader, and with his pawes gave Saladyne slept secure, fortune that was careful of her him a sore pinch on the brest that he had almost faln; champion began to smile, and brought it so to passe, that yet as a man most valiant, in whom the sparks of Sir John Rosarier (having stricken a deere that but slightly hurt Bourdeaux remained, he recovered himselfe, and in short fled through the thicket) came pacing downe by the grove combat slew the lion, who at his death roared so lowd that with a boare-speare in his hande in great haste. He spred Saladyne awaked, and starting up, was amazed at the where a man lay a sleepe, and a lyon fast by him : amazed sudden sight of so monstrous a beast lying slaine by him, at this sight, as he stoode gazing, his nose on the sodaine and so sweet a gentleman wounded."-ROSALYNDE, P.79.
ACT V. (1) SCENE IV.-0, sir, we quarrel in print, by the book.] whereof no sure conclusion can arise." “By which,” The particular book here ridiculed, is conjectured to be a observes Warburton, “ he means, they cannot proceed to treatise in 4to. published in 1595, entitled “ Vincentio cut one another's throat, while there is an if between." Saviolo his Practice. In two Bookes. The first intreating See note (6), p. 210, Vol. I. of the use of the Rapier and Dagger. The second of Honor and honorable Quarrels.” “A Discourse,” says the (2) SCENE IV.-- is you have books for good manners.) author, speaking of the second part, “most necessarie for Such works were not uncommon in the sixteenth and sevenall Gentlemen that have in regardle their honors, touching teenth centuries. Mr. Halliwell mentions a book of this the giving and receiving of the Lie, whereupon the Duello description, published by Wynkyn de Worde in 1507, the and the Combats in divers sortes doth insuo, and many colophon of which is as follows, -" Here endeth and other inconveniences, for lack only of the true knowledge fynysshed the boke named and Intytled Good Maners." of honor and the contrarie : and the right understanding There was also “ The Boke of Nurture, or Schoole of Good of wordes.” The contents of the several chapters are as Maners for Men, Servants, and Children," 8vo. 1577, follows :_“I. What the reason is, that the partie unto written by Hugh Rhodes; another called “Galateo of whom the lie is given ought to become Challenger: and Maister John Della Casa, Archebishop of Beneventa. Or of the nature of Lies. II. Of the manner and diversitie of rather, A treatise of the maners and behaviours, it behoveth Lies. III. Of Lies certaine. IV. Of conditionall Lyes. a man to use and eschewe, in his familiar conversation. A V. Of the Lye in generall. VI. Of the Lyc in particular. worke very necessary and profitable for all Gentlemen or VII. Of foolish Lycs. VIII. A conclusion touching the other. First written in the Italian tongue, and now done Challenger and the Defender, and of the wresting and re- into English by Robert Peterson, of Lincoln's Inne Gentletuning back of the Lye, or Dementie." In the chapter man,” 4to. 1576: and in the Stationers' Registers, under of conditional lies, he says: “ Conditionall lyes be such the year 1576, is an entryas are given conditionally: as if a man should saie or write these wordes :-If thou hast saide that I have offered my
“ Ric. Jones. Receyved of him, for his lycense to Lord abuse, thou lyest; or if thou saiest so hereafter, thout
ymprinte a booke intituled how a yonge gentleshalt lye.. Of these kind of lyes given in this
man may behave him self in all cumpanies, &c. manner, often arise much contention in words * *
iiij. and a copic.”
EPILOGUE. (1) Good vine needs no lush.] Mr. Halliv:ell remarks ! allusion, as the ivy was always sacred to Bacchus ; perhaps that the custom of hanging out a bush as a sign for a continued from heathen times. So in “ Gascoigne's Glass tavern, or a place where wine was to be sold, was of great of Government," 1575 : “Now-a-days the pool wyne antiquity in this country; and he supplies an interesting needeth none ivye garlanıl.” And in Florio's “Second example from an illuminated MS. of the fourteenth cen- Frutes," 1591 : “Like into an icy bush, that cals men to tury, preserved in the Hunterian Museum at Glasgow, the tavern, but hangs itselfe without to winde and wether.” where a party of travellers are observed approaching a Kennett, in his Glossary, says, that “the tavern-bush, wayside inn, indicated by a huge bush depending from or frame of wood, was drest round with ivy forty years the sign. Chaucer alludes to the custom, and in an carly since, though now left off for tuns or barrels hung in the poem in MS., Cotton. Tiber. A. vii. fol. 72, we read :- middle of it. This custom gave birth to the present prac“Ryght as off a tavernere,
tice of putting out a green bush at the door of those priThe greene busche that hangeth out,
vate houses which sell drink during the fair, a practice Is a sygne, it is no dowte,
stated to be still prevalent in many of the provinces.” Outward liolkys ffor to telle
Notices of the tavern-bush abound in our early writers, That within is wyne to selle."
and the name is traced in the sign of the “ Bush," still The bush is very frequently alluded to as having been retained by many inns in England. The petty taverns of formed of ivy, in which there appears a trace of classical Normandy are, indeed, to this day distinguished by bushes.
“It would be difficult to bring the contents within the compass of an ordinary narrative; nothing takes place, or rather what is done is not so essential as what is said ; even what may be called the dénouement is brought about pretty arbitrarily. Whoever can perceive nothing but what can, as it were, be counted on the fingers, will hardly be disposed to allow that it has any plan at all. Banishment and flight have assembled together, in the forest of Arden, a strange band : a Duke dethroned by his brother, who, with the faithful companions of his misfortune, lives in the wilds on the produce of the chase ; two disguised Princesses, who love each other with a sisterly affection; a witty court fool; lastly, the native inhabitants of the forest, ideal and natural shepherds and shepherdesses. These lightly-sketched figures form a inotley and diversified train ; we see always the shady dark-green landscape in the background, and breathe in imagination the fresh air of the forest. The hours are here measured by no clocks, no regulated recurrence of duty or of toil : they flow on unnumbered by voluntary occupation or fanciful idleness, to which, according to his humour or disposition, every one yields himself, and this unrestrained freedom compensates them all for the lost conveniences of life. One throws himself down in solitary meditation under a tree, and indulges in melancholy reflections on the changes of fortune, the falsehood of the world, and the self-inflicted torments of social life ; others make the woods resound with social and festive songs, to the accompaniment of their hunting-horns. Selfishness, envy, and ambition, have been left behind in the city; of all the human passions, love alone has found an entrance into this wilderness, where it dictates the same language alike to the simple shepherd and the chivalrous youth, who hangs his love-ditty to a tree. A prudish shepherdess falls at first sight in love with Rosalind, disguised in men's apparel; the latter sharply reproaches her with her severity to her poor lover, and the pain of refusal, which she feels from experience in her own case, disposes her at length to compassion and requital. The fool carries his philosophical contempt of external show, and his raillery of the illusion of love so far, that he purposely seeks out the ugliest and simplest country wench for a mistress. Throughout the whole picture, it seems to be the poet's design to show that to call forth the poetry which has its indwelling in nature and the human mind, nothing is wanted but to throw off all artificial constraint, and restore both to mind and nature their original liberty. In the very progress of the piece, the dreamy carelessness of such an existence is sensibly expressed : it is even alluded to by Shakspeare in the title. Whoever affects to be displeased, if in this romantic forest the ceremonial of dramatic art is not duly ob ed, ought in justice to be delivered over to the wise fool, to be led gently out of it to some prosaical region."-SCHLEGEL.
“Though this play, with the exception of the disguise and self-discovery of Rosalind, may be said to be destitute of plot, it is yet one of the most delightful of the draroas of Shakspeare. There is something inexpressibly wild and interesting both in the characters and in th3 scenery ; the former disclosing the moral discipline and the sweets of adversity, the purest emotions of love and friendship, of gratitude and fidelity, the melancholy of genius, and the exhilaration of innocent mirth, as opposed to the desolating effects of malice, envy, and ambition ; and the latter unfolding, with the richiest glow of fancy, landscapes to which, as objects of imitation, the united talents of Ruysdale, Claude, and Salvator Rosa could alone do justice. “From the forest of Arden, from that wild wood of oaks,
"whose boughs were mous'd with age,
And high tops bald with dry antiquity,"from the bosom of sequestered glens and pathless solitudes, has the poet called forth lessons of the most touching and consolatory wisdom. Airs from paradise seem to fan with refreshing gales, with a soothing consonance of sound, the interminable depth of foliage, and to breathe into the hearts of those who have sought its shelter from the world, an oblivion of their sorrows and their cares. The banished Duke, the much-injured Orlando, and the melancholy Jaques, lose in meditation on the scenes which surround them, or in sportive freedom, or in grateful occupation, all corrosive sense of past affliction. Love seems the only passion which has penetrated this romantic seclusion, and the sigh of philosophic pity, or of wounded sensibility, (the legacy of a deserted world,) the only relique of the storm which is passed and gone.
“Nothing, in fact, can blend more harmoniously with the romantic glades and magic windings of Arden, than the society which Shakspeare has placed beneath its shades. The effect of such scenery, on the lover of nature, is to take full possession of the soul, to absorb its very faculties, and, through the charmed imagination, to convert the workings of the mind into the sweetest sensations of the heart, into the joy of grief, into a thankful endurance of adversity, into the interchange of the tenderest affections : and find we not here, in the person of the Duke, the noblest philosophy of resignation ; in Jaques, the humorous sadness of an amiable misanthropy; in Orlando, the mild dejection of self-accusing humility ; in Rosalind and Celia, the purity of sisterly affection; whilst love in all its innocence and gaiety binds in delicious fetters, not only the younger exiles, but the pastoral natives of the forest ? A day thus spent, in all the careless freedom of unsophisticated nature, seems worth an eternity of common-place existence !"-DRAKE.