AS YOU LIKE IT. 89

" Call him hither, good Monsieur Le Beau," said Celia.

"Do so," said the Duke ; " I will step aside."

Le Beau having told Orlando that the princesses wished to speak with him,
that young gentleman gallantly and courteously drew near, not at all displeased to
find two lovely young ladies taking an interest in his welfare.

"Young man," said Rosalind, "have you challenged Charles the wrestler?"

Orlando. No, fair princess ; he is the general challenger : I come but in, as others
do, to try with him the strength of my youth.

Celia. Young gentleman, your spirits are too bold for your years. You have seen
cruel proof of this man's strength. We pray you, for your own sake, to embrace your
own safety, and give over this attempt.

Rosalind. Do, young sir: your reputation shall not therefore [suffer]. We will
make it our suit to the Duke, that the wrestling may not go forward.

Orlando. I beseech you, punish me not with your hard thoughts. I confess me
much guilty, to deny so fair and excellent ladies anything. But let your fair eyes, and
gentle wishes, go with me to my trial : wherein if I be [conquered], there is but one
shamed that was never [in favor] ; if killed, but one dead that is willing to be so. I
shall do my friends no wrong, for I have none to lament me ; the world no injury, for
in it I have nothing ; only in the world I fill up a place, which may be better supplied
when I have made it empty.

Rosalind. The little strength that I have, I would it were with you.

Celia. And mine, to eke out hers.

Rosalind. Fare you well. Pray Heaven I be deceived in you !

Celia. Your heart's desires be with you !

Charles. Come ; where is this young gallant, that is so desirous to lie with his
mother earth ?

Orlando. Ready, sir ; but his will hath in it a more modest working.

Duke Frederick. You shall try but one fall.

Charles. No, I warrant your Grace, you shall not entreat him to a second, that
have so mightily persuaded him from a first.

Orlando. If you mean to mock me after, you should not have mocked me before ;
but come [on].

And now the wrestling began. The young princesses looked on with the
deepest interest ; especially Rosalind, who from the first felt drawn to the hand-
some youth, the more because he was unfortunate and alone in the world, like
herself; and she pitied him so very much that it may almost be said she was in
love with him already. As for Orlando, the kindness shown to him by these noble
ladies seemed to increase his courage and strength, and with one mighty effort he
lifted the big champion in his arms and threw him, stunned and apparently lifeless,
to the ground. The attendants came and bore the helpless wrestler away ; and the
Duke, turning to the flushed and panting young victor, said, —

What is thy name, young man ?

Orlando. Orlando, my liege : the youngest son of Sir Rowland de Bois.



90 SHAKESPEARE FOR. THE YOUNG FOLK.

Duke Frederick. I would thou hadst been son to some man else.
The world esteemed thy father honorable,
But I did find him still mine enemy :
Thou wouldst have better pleased me with this deed,
Hadst thou descended from another house. 1
But fare thee well ; thou art a gallant youth ;
I would thou hadst told me of another father.

Duke Frederick's heart was divided between admiration for the bravery and
gallantry of Orlando and dislike for Sir Rowland de Bois, Orlando's father. He
felt hardly comfortable in the presence of one who, while deserving of praise, was
yet a source of annoyance simply because of his parentage. So he turned and
departed from the courtyard with his train, leaving Rosalind, Celia, and Orlando
together.

Orlando, with great dignity, called after the retiring Duke, " I am more proud
to be Sir Rowland's son, his youngest son, than if I were adopted heir to Fred-
erick."

Celia was indignant at her father's cool words, and, turning to Rosalind, said
in a regretful way, " Were I my father, coz, would I do this?"

Rosalind eagerly declared, —

My father loved Sir Rowland as his soul,
And all the world was of my father's mind.
Had I before known this young man his son,
I would have given him tears unto entreaties,
Ere he should thus have ventured.

Celia. Gentle cousin,

Let us go thank him, and encourage him :
My father's rough and [hateful] disposition
Sticks me at heart. — {To Orlando] Sir, you have well deserved.

Then Rosalind, taking a heavy gold chain from her neck, put it about Orlando's

neck with these words : —

Gentleman,

Wear this for me, one out of suits 2 with fortune,

That could give more, but that her hand lacks means. —

Shall we go, coz ?

Celia. Ay. — Fare you well, fair gentleman.

Orlando {with eyes cast down and speaking to himself]. Can I not say, I thank
you ? My better parts
Are all thrown down, and that which here stands up
Is but a lifeless block.

Rosalind {to Celia]. He calls us back. 1 My pride fell with my fortunes —



1 Family. 2 Out of favor.

a Orlando had not called them back: Rosalind was deceived by her own fancy, and by her
desire to talk with Orlando more.



AS YOU LIKE IT.



91




I '11 ask him what he [wants]. — Did you call, sir ? —
Sir, you have wrestled well, and overthrown
More than your enemies.

Celia. Will you go, coz ?

Rosalind. [I 'm coming.] — Fare you well.

The two young ladies departed, but Rosalind cast many a lingering look back-
ward to where Orlando stood, like one almost stupefied.

At last, when they were quite gone, he seemed to rouse himself, and slowly



q 2 SHAKESPEARE FOR THE YOUNG FOLK.

said : " What is it that hangs these weights upon my tongue ? I cannot speak to
her, yet she urged me to speak. O poor Orlando ! thou art overthrown ; either
Charles or something weaker masters thee ! "

I think you and I can guess what was the matter with both Rosalind and
Orlando.

At this point Le Beau, who was evidently a kindly person, came hastily in,
and urged Orlando to leave the place with speed ; because, in spite of all that he
had done deserving praise, the Duke was of a temper so moody and uncertain that
he would be sure to seek some cause for blame.

Orlando thanked him for his kindness, and begged to know which of the two
lovely young ladies who watched the wrestling was the daughter of the Duke.

Le Beau answered : " You would not think either of them could be the Duke's
daughter, to judge by their manners ; but the shorter of the two, Celia, is really
his daughter. The other is her cousin Rosalind, daughter of the banished Duke,
and much beloved for her many virtues, wherein she resembles her father." But
these very virtues (he added), together with the pity the people felt for her, had
excited the Duke's displeasure, and sooner or later it would break forth on her.

Orlando again thanked Le Beau, bade him farewell, and, with his heart full of
happy thoughts about Rosalind, went from the abode of the tyrant Duke toward
that of a tyrant brother.





III.




Apt I Scene ^.

>HE two cousins, Celia and Rosalind, had lived together in
Duke Frederick's palace ever since the banishment of
Rosalind's father. They had played together as children ;
studied together j slept, walked, and talked together Every
secret was shared between them. If Celia was sad, Rosa-
lind who was light-hearted by nature, would have some
cheery word or merry sport, to beguile her of her sorrow.
It was not often that Rosalind needed comfort, but now, for onc e,it was she w ho
was dull and out of spirits ; and as they
entered one of the apartments of the
palace in their usual affectionate way,
she was silent and sad, and so little like
her usual self that Celia jested with her
and teased her, in a kindly way.

" Why, cousin ; why, Rosalind," she
said, — "not a word?"

" Not one to throw at a dog," an-
swered Rosalind, with a heavy sigh.

" My clear Rosalind, this will never
do. Come, come; wrestle with thy
affections."

"That I cannot do," answered
Rosalind ; " they take the part of a
better wrestler than myself."

"Is it possible," said Celia, "on
such a sudden, you should fall into so




q 4 SHAKESPEARE FOR THE YOUNG FOLK.

" Is that any reason," answered Celia, laughing, "that you should love his son
dearly? If that is so, then I should hate him, for my father-hated his father dearly."
Yet I hate not Orlando."

" No, faith, hate him not, for my sake. Let me love him for deserving well,
and do you love him because I do. Look, here comes the Duke, your father, and
evidently very angry."

Duke Frederick entered with a heavy frown upon his face and a severe look
in his eyes. He spoke harshly to Rosalind, and bade her leave the court without
delay, threatening her with death if after ten days she should be found within
twenty miles of the palace.

" I do beseech your Grace," said Rosalind, —

Let me the knowledge of my fault bear with me :
Never so much as in a thought unborn
Did I offend your. Highness.

Duke Frcdej-ick. Let it suffice thee, that I trust thee not.

Rosalind. Yet your mistrust cannot make me a traitor.
Tell me whereon the likelihood depends.

Duke Frederick. Thou art thy father's daughter; there 's enough.

Rosalind. So was I when your Highness took his dukedom ;
So was I when your Highness banished 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.

Celia. Dear sovereign, hear me speak.

Duke Frederick. Ay, Celia : we stayed her for your sake ;
Else had she with her father ranged along.

Celia. I did not then entreat to have her stay:
It was your pleasure, and your own remorse. 1
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 slept together,
Rose at an instant, learned, played, eat together ;
And wheresoe'er we went, like Juno's swans,
Still we went coupled, and inseparable.

Duke Frederick. She is too subtle for thee ; and her smoothness,
Her very silence, 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 :



1 Compassion.
tt In Shakespeare's time people talked of hating dearly almost as much as they did of
loving dearly.



AS YOU LIKE IT. 95

Firm and irrevocable is my doom

Which I have passed upon her. She is banished.

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

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

After sternly uttering these words, Duke Frederick departed with his attendants.

Celia. O my poor Rosalind ! whither wilt thou go ?
Wilt thou change fathers ? I will give thee mine.
I charge thee, be not thou more grieved than I am.

Rosalind. I have more cause.

Celia. Thou hast not, cousin.

Pr'ythee, be cheerful : know'st thou not, the Duke
Hath banished me, his daughter ?

Rosalind. That he hath not.

Celia. No ? hath not? Rosalind lacks, then, the love,
Which teacheth me that thou and I are one.
Shall we be sundered ? 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 the charge upon you,
To bear your griefs yourself, and leave me out.
Say what thou canst, I '11 go along with thee.

Rosalind. Why, whither shall we go ?

Celia. To seek my uncle

In the Forest of Arden.

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

Celia. I '11 put myself in poor and mean attire,
And with a kind of umber a smirch my face.
The like do you : so shall we pass along,
And never stir assailants.

Rosalind. Were it not better,

Because that I am more than common tall,
That I did [dress exactly] like a man ?
A gallant curtle-axe 1 upon my thigh,
A boar-spear in my hand ; and in my heart —
Lie there what hidden woman's fear there will —



1 Cutlass.
a Umber is a yellowish earth, which is found in Umbria, Italy, and made into a kind of
dusky paint.



9 6



SHAKESPEARE FOR THE YOUNG FOLK.

We '11 have a [swaggering] and a martial outside,
As many other mannish cowards have.

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

Rosalind. I '11 have no worse a name than Jove's own page,
And therefore look you call me Ganymede."
But what will you be called ?

Celia. Something that hath a reference to my state :
No longer Celia, but Aliena. b

Rosalind. But, cousin, what if we [contrived] to steal
The clownish fool out of your father's court?
Would he not be a comfort to our travel ?

Celia. He '11 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 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.

a Ganymede, in the old Greek mythology, was a beautiful youth who was carried away on
an eagle to Olympus, to be cup-bearer to Jove, the king of the gods.

b The metre requires this name to be pronounced in four syllables, with the accent on
the second : A-le-e-na.




IV.




Act II. Scene i.

3UKE FREDERICK, the father of Celia, as we have seen,
had no right to the kingdom which he called his ; it really
belonged to his elder brother, the father of Rosalind. But
those old times were troublous and uncertain. One might
be a king to-day and a banished outlaw to-morrow ; for might
made right, and he who could win a kingdom and hold it
cared very little about the rightful owner.
Duke Frederick, then, having a powerful army, had seized his brother's duke-
dom and palace, and banished that brother and his followers. But he had kept,
as a companion for Celia, the pretty Rosalind, who was quite as good and lovely
as she had appeared in Le Beau's description.

The banished Duke seemed to take his misfortunes like a philosopher, and
with his co-mates and brothers in exile had made a home in the Forest of Arden,
where they might indeed feel the churlish chiding of the winter's wind, but not the
cruel falseness of the envious court. The blasts might bite and blow upon his
body, but, even while shrinking with cold, he would only wrap his mantle the closer
round his shivering form, and laughingly remark that these at least were not like
flattering courtiers, but frankly reminded him that he was a man like other men.

The Duke was so enchanted with the freedom of his new life, that he began to
be rather glad of the trouble and sorrow which had brought him there, and used

to say, —

Sweet are the uses of adversity,

Which, like the toad, a ugly and venomous,

Wears yet a precious jewel in his head ;

And this our life, [remote] from public haunt,

Finds tongues in trees, books in the running brooks,

Sermons in stones, and good in every thing.



a The ancients had a toad-stone, so called only from its resemblance in color to that rep-
tile. From this curious epithet arose, in later times, the fable that the toad had in its head a
stone endued with wondrous virtues.




DEER IN THE FOREST OF ARDEN.



AS YOU LIKE IT.



99



One day, Amiens, one of the lords who had gone into exile with the Duke,
complimented his master upon this cheerful contentment, and then accepted the
proposal of his Grace to join in a hunting party.

The Forest of Arden was full of beautiful deer, that really seemed to have more
right to their native home, the forest, than these hunters had. Even the Duke
sometimes felt doubtful about killing them, and Jaques, the melancholy Jaques, —
a queer, odd man, who, having become tired of the world, had joined this com-
pany more to get rid of worldly society than for any other reason, — insisted that
the Duke was as much of an usurper in their domain as his brother, Duke
Frederick, had been in seizing the dukedom.

" Indeed, my lord," said one of the merry hunters, —

The melancholy Jaques grieves at that ;
And, in that kind, swears you do more usurp
Than doth your brother that hath banished 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 [secluded] stag,
That from the hunter's aim had taken a hurt,
Did come to languish : and, indeed, my lord,
The wretched animal heaved forth such groans,
That their discharge did stretch his leathern coat
Almost to bursting ; and the big round tears
Coursed one another down his innocent nose
In piteous chase: and thus, the hairy fool,
Much marked of the melancholy Jaques,
Stood on the extremest verge of the swift brook,
[Increasing] it with tears. 1
Duke Senior. But what said Jaques ?

"O," answered the hunter who had secretly watched him, "he pitied the
deer for wasting his tears by weeping into the stream that was already full of water :
which he said was like wealthy men leaving money in their wills to people who had
too much already. When the sleek-coated friends of the poor animal had left
him alone, Jaques said it was the way of the world : the miserable were always
abandoned : if a man were poor and in trouble, his rich and comfortable friends
passed him without a thought : and there we left him weeping and talking about
the poor sobbing deer."

The Duke rather liked to see Jaques in these queer moods, for he was always
more entertaining then ; so he hastened away, in company with Amiens and the
other lords, to seek this singular man.

a The poet Drayton says, in a note on a certain passage in one of his own poems, " The
hart weepeth at his dying ; his tears are held precious in medicine."





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V.




Act II. Scenes 2, 3.

*Y this time Duke Frederick had discovered his daughter's
absence, and, as we might well suppose, was furious. No
one could tell him anything more than this : her ladies-in-
waiting had seen her go to bed as usual, but in the morning-
she was gone. One of the noblemen of the court added, that
the clown Touchstone was also missing, and, in his opinion,
the young ladies were to be found in the company of the
handsome young wrestler who had got the better of Charles in the wrestling-match.
One thing was certain, they had been heard to admire and praise him very
warmly, and it was believed in the court that, wherever they were gone, that youth
was surely in their company.

Duke Frederick was doubly angry at this. He could not like Orlando, who was
the son of his old enemy, Sir Rowland de Bois, and the thought that his own
daughter Celia might be in such company was more than he could bear.

In these days of telegraphs and railroads it is an easy matter to hunt up runa-
ways, but then it was a far more difficult affair. The great forests were full of
delightful hiding-places, and unless Duke Frederick had some one to help him
who was as earnest to find the fugitives as himself, it might be long before any tidings
would reach the court. But the Duke suddenly bethought him of the brother with
whom Orlando lived, and he despatched messengers to the house of Oliver, with
orders to bring the young wrestler into his presence. " If he be absent," he
added, " bring his brother to me ; I will make him answerable. Do it quickly,
and let not search and inquiry cease, until these foolish runaways be arrested and
brought back again."

As Orlando was returning from the scene of his triumph to Oliver's house,
thinking very likely of all that had happened the day before, — of his victory over
the burly prize-fighter ; the lovely princesses, and their kind words ; Rosalind's
kinder looks and bright smiles ; her gift of the golden chain, now hanging about



AS YOU LIKE IT.



IOI



his neck, which made it certain that all was not merely a happy dream, — he heard
a step, and, suddenly raising his head, he demanded, " Who 's there? "

It was old Adam, who had come out on purpose to meet him, and warn him
of a great danger.

" What ! my young master ! " he exclaimed. " O, my gentle master, what are
you doing here? Why do people love t^s^s
you ? Wherefore are you so gentle, strong,
and valiant ? Why were you so foolish as
to overcome the Duke's big, bony wres-
tler?"

"Why, what's the matter, Adam?"
answered Orlando.

" O unhappy youth," said Adam ;
" come not within these doors ! Your
brother hates you. He has heard of your
success, and means to burn your lodging,
and you in it, this very night. You must
not enter it."

"Why, whither, Adam, wouldst thou
have me go? "

" No matter whither, so you come not
here."

" What, wouldst thou have me beg my
bread, or with a base sword force a thievish living on the common road? That I
will never do. I would rather stay here, subject to my unnatural, bloody brother."

Adam. But do not so. I have five hundred crowns,
The thrifty hire I saved under your father,
Which I did store, to be my foster-nurse
When service should in my old limbs lie lame,
And unregarded age in corners thrown.
Take that: and He that doth the ravens feed,
Yea, providently caters for the sparrow,
Be comfort to my age ! Here is the gold :
All this I give you. Let me be your servant :
Though I look old, yet I am strong and lusty ;
For in my youth I never did apply
Hot and rebellious liquors in my blood ;
Therefore my age is as a lusty winter,
Frosty, but kindly. Let me go with you:
I '11 do the service of a younger man
In all your business and necessities.

" O good old man, how different is thy faithful service from that of those who
only serve for their own selfish ends ! " exclaimed Orlando ; —




102



SHAKESPEARE FOR THE YOUNG FOLK.



But, poor old man, thou prun'st a rotten tree,
That cannot so much as a blossom yield,
In lieu of 1 all thy pains and husbandry. .
But come thy ways : we '11 go along together,
And ere we have thy youthful wages spent,
We '11 light upon some settled low content.

Adam. Master, go on, and I will follow thee
To the last gasp with truth and loyalty.
From seventeen years, till now almost fourscore,
Here lived I, but now live here no more.

Then Orlando and Adam set forth together, the old man leaning on the young
one, who carried his bundle, and cheered and comforted him, as they went out into
the world to seek their fortune.

1 In return for.




VI.




Act II. Scene 4.

JFTER a long and weary journey on foot, Rosalind and Celia,
with Touchstone, the court fool, in whose kindness and devo-
tion she had not been mistaken, entered at last the Forest of
Arden. Rosalind, who was quite tall, wore, as she had pro-
posed, the dress of a young man, and called herself Ganymede.
Celia had taken the name of Aliena, and was disguised as a
peasant girl, to represent the sister of Ganymede. Their faces
were colored like those of gypsies or sun-browned peasants, and their transforma-
tion was so complete that their own fathers would not have recognized them.

-They were all weary and footsore, and Rosalind declared that if it were not
for her man's dress she could find it in her heart to cry like a woman. But she
only laughed instead, saying : " But I must comfort the weaker vessel, as doublet
and hose a ought to show itself courageous to petticoat. Therefore, courage, good
Aliena ! "

Celia. I pray you, bear with me : I can go no farther.

Touchstone. For my part, I had rather bear with you, than bear you : yet I should
bear no cross, b if I did bear you, for, I think, you have no money in your purse.

Rosalind. Well, this is the Forest of Arden.

Touchstone. Ay, now am I in Arden ; the more fool I : when I was at home I was
in a better place, but travellers must be content.

Rosalind. Ay, be so, good Touchstone. — Look you ; who comes here ? a young
man, and an old, in [earnest] talk.

These were Corin, an old, gray-haired shepherd, and Silvius, a youthful shep-
herd. They were talking so earnestly that they saw no one, as they walked in the
shadow of the great trees.



a Doublet and hose is about equivalent to coat and pantaloons of modern times.
b In Shakespeare's time certain English coins had a cross stamped on them, and hence
were called crosses.



104



SHAKESPEARE FOR THE YOUNG FOLK.




Silvius was telling Corin about his love for a pretty shepherdess named