modest working.

Duke F. You shall try but one fall.

Cha. No, I warrant your grace ; you shall not
entreat him to a second,' that have so mightily per-
suaded him from a first.

Orl. You mean to mock me after ; you should
not have mocked me before : but come your ways.

Ros. Now, Hercules be thy speed, young man !

Cel. I would I v\ ere invisible, to catch the strongs
fellow by the leg.

[Charles (uid Orlando wrestle. '
Ros. O excellent young man !
Cel. If I had a thunderbolt in mine eye, I can
tell who should down.

[Charles is throzvn. Shout.
11



AS YOU LIKE IT. ii;

Dide F. No more, no more.

Orl. Yes, I beseech your grace ; I am not yet
ucll breathed.

Duke F. How dost thou, Charles ?

Lf Beau. He cannot speak, my lord.

Duke F. Bear him away. [Charles is home out.'\
AA'hat is thy name, young man ?

Orl. Orlando, my liege ; the youngest son of sir
Rowland dc Bois.

Duke F. I would, thou hadst been son to some
man else.
The world esteem'd thy father honourable.
But I did tind him still mine enemy :
Thou shouldst have better pleas'd me with this deed,
Hadst thou descended from another house.
But fare thee well ; thou art a gallant youth ;
I would, thou hadst told me of another father.

\_F.reu?it Duke Fred. Train, ami Le Beau.

Cel. Were I my father, coz, would I do this ?

Orl. I am more proud to be sir Rowland's son.
His youngest son ; — and would not change that

calling,^
To bi' adopted heir to Frederick.

Ro.s: My father lov'd sir Rowland as his soul.
And all the world was of my father's mind :
Had I before known this young man his son,
F should have given him tears unto entreaties.
Ere he should thus have ventur'd.

Cel. Gentle cousin,

Let us ^o thank him, and encourage him :
My father's rough and envious disposition
•Sticks me at iieart. — Sir, you have well deserv'd :
If you do keep your promises in love.
Hilt justly, as you have exceeded promise,
Your mistress shall be happy.

' that calling,] i. e. appellation ; a very unusual, il' a(tt

unprfcedfuted sense of the word. Steevens.



118 AS YOU LIKE IT.

Ros. Gentleman,

[Giving him a chain from her neck.
Wear this for me ; one out of suits with fortune;*
That could give more, but that her hand lacks

means. —
Shall we go, coz ?

Cel. Ay : — Fare you well, fair gentleman.

Orl. Can I not say, I thank you ? My better
parts
Are all thrown down ; and that which here stands ujd.
Is but a quintain, a mere lifeless block. ^

Ros. He calls us back : My pride fell with my
fortunes :
ril ask him what he would : — Did you call, sir ?—
Sir, you have wrestled well, and overthrown
More than your enemies.

Cel. Will you go, coz ?

Ros. Have with you : — Fare you well.

[_E.veiint Rosalind and Celia.
Orl. What passion hangs these weights upon my
tongue ?
f cannot speak to her, yet she urg'd conference.

Re-enter Le Beau.

poor Orlando ! thou art overthrown :

Or Charles, or something weaker, masters thee.
Le Beau. Good sir, I do in friendship counsel
you • ^

To leave this place : Albeit you have deserv'd

one out of suits mihjbrtime ; j Out of suits xmthf&rtnne^

1 believe, means, turned out of her service, and stripped of lier
livery. Steevens.

3 Is hut a quintain, a mere lifcJcss block.'} A guintain was a
post or butt set up for several kinds of martial exercises, against
wliich they threw their darts and exercised their arms. But all
the commentators are at variance about this word, and have il-
lustrated their opinions with cuts, for which we must refer the
reader to the new edition, 21 vols. 8vo.



AS YOU LIKE IT. ug

IIi<;li C(iininciulation, true applause, and love;
Yet such is now the duke's condition,*
'I'hat he niiiiconstrues all that you have done.
Tlie duke is humorous ; what lie is, indeed,
More suits you to conceive, tlian nie to speak of.

Ofi. I thank } ou, sir : and, pray you, tell mo
this;
Wiiich of the two was daughter of the duke
That here was at the wrestlin<j; ?

Le Beau. Neither his daughter, if we judge by
manner;' ;
But yet, indeed, the shorter is his daughter:
The other is daughter to the hanish'd duke,
And here detain'd by her usurping uncle,
To keep Iiis daugliter company ; whose loves
Arc dearer than the natural bond of sisters.
But I can tell you, that of late this duke
Hath ta'en displeasure 'gainst his gentle niece ;
Grounded upon no other argument,
liut that the people praise her for her virtues,
And pity her for her good father's sake ;
And, on my life, his malice 'gainst the lady
Will suddenly break forth. — .Sir, fare you well!
Hereafter, in a better world than this,
1 shall desire more love and knowledge of you.

Orl. I rest much bounden to you : fiirc you well!

[A\t77 Le Beau.
Tiius must I from the smoke into the smother;
From tyrant duke, unto a tyrant brother : —
But heavenly Rosalind! [/:J.t7f.

■'—— ///f t/(tir'i condition,] Tlj8 wari tonditi9n intiiu chu-»
ratU-r, ttiDper, di)»poi*itiori.



Vf^L. iir. M



120 AS YOU LIKE IT.

SCENE III.

A Room in the Palace.

Eyit^r Celia and Rosalind.

Cel. Why, cousin ; why, Rosahnd ; — Cupid have
mercy! — Not a word? , ,

Ros. Not one to throw at a dog.

Cel. No, thy words are too precious to be cast
away upon curs, throw some of them at me ; come,
lame me with reasons.

Ros. Then there were two cousins laid up ; -when
the one should be lamed with reasons, and tlie Qther
mad without any. .• -r''. /jA

Cel. But is ail this for your father? 1 )tj{!

Ros. No, some of it for my child's father: O,
how full of briars is this working-day world T , >

Cel. They are but burs, cousin, thrown uport
thee in holiday foolery ; if we walk not in the trod-
den paths, our very petticoats will catch them.

Ros. I could shake them oft' my coat ;' these burs
are in my heart.

Cel. Hem theiti away.

Ros. I would try ; if I could cry hem, and have
him.

Cei. Come, come, wrestle with thy aftections. ^

Ros. O, they take the part of a better wrestler
than myself.

Cel. O, a good wish upon you ! you will try in
time, in despite of a fall. — But, turning these jests
out of service, let us talk in good earnest : Is it pos-
sible, on such a sudden, you should fall into so strong
a liking with old sir Rowland's youngest son ?

Ros. The duke my father lov'd his father dearly.

CeL Doth it therefore ensue, that you should



AS YOU LIKE rt. 121

love his son dearly ? By this kind of chase/ I should
hate him, for my father hated his father dearly ; yet
I hate not Orlando.

Ros. No 'taith, hate him not, for my sake.

Cel. Why should I not? doth he not deserve
^veH?^

Ko.s. Let me love him for that ; and do you love
him, because I do: — Look, here comes the duke.

Cci. With his eyes full of anger.

Enter Duke Frederick, with Lords.

Duke F. Mistress, despatch you with your safest
haste.
And get you from our court.

Ros. Mc, uncle ?

Didce. You, cousin :

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

Ros. I do beseech your grace,

Let me the knowledge of my foult bear with me :
If with myself I hold intelligence.
Or have acquaintance with mine own desires ;
If that I do not dream, or be not frantick,
(As I do trust I am not,) then, dear uncle.
Never so nmch as in a tliought unborn.
Did I offend your highness.

Duke. Thus do all traitors ;

5 Bi/ this kind o/" chase,] That is, by this way o^folloiving the
arf^unicnt. Dear is used by Shaksixiare in a doul)le sense lor
belox'd, and for hnrtfnl, haled ^ hnleful. Both senses arc authorised,
and both drawn Iruui etymology; but properly, beloved is ((ear,
and hateful is dere. llosalind uses dearly in tlie good, and Ceiia
in t)ie bad scnfie. Jofinsov.

<^ l\'liy should I not ? doth he not deserve â– weUi~\ Celia answers
Kosalijid, (who had desired lier ^'' not to hate Orlando, ibr her
nake,") a* if:-lic had said — " love him, for my sake ." to which
The former replies, *• Why should I not [i. e. love him] ?"

M '2



122 AS YOU LIKE IT.

If their purgation did consist in words,
They are as innocent as grace itself: —
Let it surtice thee, that I trust thee not.

Ros. Yet your mistrust cannot make me a traitor :
7^ell me, whereon the hkehhood depends.

Duke F. Thou art thy father's daughter, there's
enouo'h.

Ros. So was I, when your highness took hii
dukedom ;
So was I, when your highness banish'd him :
Treason is not inherited, my lord :
Or, if we did derive it from our IViends,
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 sovereign, hear me speak.

Duke F. Ay, Celia ; we stay'd her for your sake.
Else had she with her father rang'd along,

Cel. I did not then ( ntreat to have her stay.
It was your pleasure, snd your own remorse ;'
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, learn'd, play'd, eat together ;
And wheresoe'er we went, like Juno's swans,
Stih we went coupled, and inseparable.

Oiike F. She is too subtle for thee; and her
smoothness,
Her veiy silence, and her patience.
Speak to the people, and they j>ity her.
7'hou 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 ;
Firm ^nd irrevocable is my doom

' "•^"remorse ;"] i. e. compassion.



AS YOU LIKE IT. \13

Wliich I have pass'd ii|x>n her ; she is baiiish'd.

Cc/. Pronounce that sentence then on me, my
liej;e ;
I cannot Hve oat of her compan}'.

Duke F. Yon are a tool : — You, niece, provide
yourself;
If you out-stay the time, upon mine honour,
And in the o^rcatness of my ^rord, you die.

[^Ed'eunt Duke Frederick and'LoxAs,

CeL O mv poor Rosahnd : whither wilt thou go ?
^^'iIt thou chanf:je fathers ? I will give thee mine.
I charge thee, be not thou more griev'd than I am.

Jios. I have more cause,

CeL Tliou hast not, cousin ;

Pr'ythee, be cheerful : knovv'st thou not, the duke
Hath banisird me his daughter ?

Ros. Tliat he hath not,

Ccl. No ? hath not ? Rosalind lacks then the love
^^'hich teaeheth thee that thou and I am one :
Sliall we be sunder'd r shall wo })art, sweet girl ?
No ; let mv father seek another heir.
I'herefore devise with me, how we may fly,
^Vhither to go, and what to bear with us :
And do not seek to take your change upon you,
To bear your griefs yourself, and leave me out ;
For, by this heaven, now at our sorrows pale,
May what thou canst, I'll go along with thee.

Ros. Why, whither shall we go ?

Ccl. To seek my uncle.

R<>s. Al{\s, what danger will it be to us.
Maids as we are, to travel Ibrth so far ."
Beauty provoketh thieves sooner than gold.

Ccl. I'll put myself in poor and mean attire.
And with a kind of muber smirch my face;"*



• And with n kind o/uniljcr smirch mij fncr ;] Vtnber is a diiiky
ytlIow«colourccl )jaitl), brought from L'lubriu iu Italy.



124 AS YOU LIKE IT.

The like do you ; so shall we pass along,
And never stir assailants.

Ros. Were it not better,

Because that I am more than common tall.
That I did suit me all points like a man ?
A gallant curtle-ax^ upon my thigh,
A boar-spear in my hand ; and (in my heart
Lie there what hidden woman's fear there will,)
We'll have a swashing^ and a martial outside ;
As many other mannish cowards have,
That do outface it with their semblances.

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

Ros. I'll have no worse a name than Jove's own
page.
And therefore look you call me, Ganymede.
But what will you be call'd ?

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

Ros. But, cousin, what if we assay'd to steal
The clownish fool out of your father's court ?
Would he not be a 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 safest wav
To hide us from pursuit that will be made
After my flight : Now go we in content,
To liberty, and not to banishment. \_E.veunt.

^ durtle-ax — ] Or cutlace, a broad swortl.

' We'll have a stvashingf &'C.] A sivashivg outside is an ap-
pearance of noisy, bullying valour. Swashing blotv is mentioned
in Romeo and Juliet ; and in King Henry V. the Boy says : —
*' As young as I am, I have observed these three sivashers ;"
meaniug Nym, Pistol, and Bardolph.



AS YOU LIKE IT. 125

ACT II.

SCENE I. The Forest of Arden.

Enter Duke senior^ Amiens, and other Lords, in
the dress of Foresters.

Duke S. Now, my co-mates, and brothers in
exile,
Ilatli not old custom made this hfe more sweet
Tlian that of painted pomp ? Are not these woods
More free from peril than the envious court ?
Here feel we but the penalty of Adam,
The seasons' difference ; as, the icy fang,
And churlish chiding of the winter's wind ;
^Vhich 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 w4iat I am.
Sweet are the uses of adversity ;
Which, like the toad, ugly and venemous.
Wears yet a precious jewel in his head ;""
And this our life, exempt from publick haunt.
Finds tongues in trees, books in the running brooks,
Sermons in stones, and good in every thing.

• Which, like the toad, ugly and venomoux.
Wears yet a precious jewel in his head ;"] It was the current
opinion in Shakspearc's time, that in the head of an old toad
was to he found a stone, or pearl, to which great virtues were
uscrihed. ThomtisLujjton, in liis First Jiookc of Nolable 'I'h/iigSf
ito. bl. h hrars repeated testimony to tlie virtues of the " Tode-
st'iiir, called ('rapni(d/?in.^' In his Seventh liouke he instructs us
liow to procure it ; and afterwards tells us — " You uhall knowc
whether the Todc-stonr hu the ryjrht and perfect stone or not.
Ilulde the stone before u Tode, so that lie may see it ; and if it
be a ryght and true Ht(»nc, the Tode will leape towarde it ; and
make uh thouf,'h he would snatch it. lie euvieth so uiucli tliat
man should have that stone." iJTLJiVL.NS. *



126 AS YOU LIKE IT.

Ami. I -would not change it: Happy is your
grace,
That call translate the stubbornness of fortune
Into so quiet and so sweet a style.

Duke S. Come, shall we go and kill us venison ?
And yet it hks me, the poor dappled fools, —
Being native burghers of this desert city, — •
♦Should, in their own confines, with forked hcads^
Have their round haunches gor'd.

1 Lord. Indeed, my lord.

The melancholy Jaques grieves at that ;
And, in that kind, swears you do more usurp
Than doth your brother that hath banish'd 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 :
T'o the which place a poor sequester'd stag.
That from the hunters' aim had ta'en a hurt,
Did come to languish ; and, indeed, my lord.
The wretched animal heav'd forth such groans.
That their discharge did stretch his leathern coat
Almost to bursting ; and the big round tears
Cours'd 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,
Augmenting it with tears.

Duke S. But what said Jaques ?

Did he not moralize this spectacle ?

1 Lord. O, yes, into a thousand similies.
First, for his weeping in the needless stream ;*
JPoor deer, quoth he, thou 77iak'st a testament

' -r — 'cvUh forked heads — -] i. e. with arrows, the points of
which were barbed.

"* in ^he needless sireain ;] The stream that wanted not

iiidi a supply of flioistuvi*.



AS YOU LIKE IT. 127

As rrorldlings do, i^fving- thy sum of more

To that u/iich had too much : Tlu-ii, being alone.

Left and abandoned of his velvet friends ;

^Tis riii'ht, quoth lie : this misery doth part

The flu.r of company : Anon a careless herd.

Full oftlie pasture, jumps along by him,

And never stays to greet liini ; Ay^ quoth Jaqucs,

Sxceepou, you fat and greasy citizens;

'Tisjust the fashion: I Therefore do you iooTc

Upon that puor and broken hankrupt there?

Tims most invectively he piercelh througli

The body of the country, city, court,

Yea, and of this our life : swearing, that vvc

Are mere usurpers, tyrants, and what's worse.

To fright the animals, and to kill them up.

In their a>;sign d and native dwelling place.

Duke S. And did you leave him in this contem-
plation ?

2 Lord. We did, my lord, weeping and com-
men ting
Upon the sobbing deer.

])uke S. Show me the place ;

I love to cope him* in these sullen fits,
For then he's full of matter.

2 Lord. I'll bring you to him straight. [_EA'eunt.



SCENE IT.

A Room in the Palace.

Enter Duke Frederick, T^ords, and Attendant'^.

Duke V. (Jan it be possible, that no man saw
them ?
It cannot be : some villains of my court

^ to oope him — ] To encounter, or cn^rago with liinu

J 2



128 A8 YOU LIKE IT.

Are of consent and sufferance in this.

1 Lord I cannot hear of any that did see her.
The ladies, her attendants of her chamber,
Saw her a-bed ; and, in the morning early.
They found the bed untreasur'd of their mistress.

2 Lord. My lord, the roynish clown,^ at whom so

oft
Your grace was wont to laugh, is also missing.
Hesperia, the princess' gentlewoman.
Confesses, that she secretly o'erheard
Your daughter and her cousin much commend
The parts and graces of the wrestler
That did but lately foil the sinewy Charles ;
And she believes, wherever they are gone.
That youth is surely in their company.

Duke F. Send to his brother ; fetch that gallant
hither :
If he be absent, bring his brother to me,
I'll make him find him : do this suddenly ;
And let not search and inquisition quail ''
To bring again these foolish runaways. \_Ea'eunt.



SCENE III.

Before Oliver's House.

Enter Orlando and Adam, meeting.

Orl. Who's there ?

Adam. What! my young master ? — O, my gentle
master,
O, my sweet master, O you memory^

<> the roynish clovon,'] Roynish, from rognetix, French.

7 quail — ] To quail is tojciint, to sink into dejection.

8 -^ you memory — ] Shakspeare often uses memory for

memorial ; and Beaumont and Fletcher sometimes.



AS YOU LIKE IT. 129

Of old sir Ro^^ land ! why, what make you here ?

Whv are vou virtuous ? Wliy do people love you ?

And wherefore are vou o^entle, stron"^, and valiant ?

AMiv would you be so fond'^ to overcome

The bony priser ' of the humorous duke ?

Your praise is come too swiftly home to you.

Know you not, master, to some kind of men

Their oraces serve them but as enemies ?

No more do vours ; your virtues, gentle master,

Are sanetitied and holy traitors to you.

(), what a world is this, when what is comely

Envenoms him that bears it !
Orl. AMiy, what's the matter ?
A (lam. O unhappy youth.

Come not within these doors ; within this roof

The enemy of all your graces lives :

Your brother — (no, no brother ; yet the son —

Yet not the son ; — I will not call him son —

Of him 1 was about to call his father,) —

Hath heard vour praises; and this night he means

To burn the lodging wliere you use to lie.

And you within it: if he fail of that.

He will have other means to cut you off;

I overheard him, and his practices.

Tliis is no place,^ this house is but a butchery ;

Abhor it, fear it, do not enter it.

Oil. Wiiy, whither, Adam, wouldst thou have

me go ?
Adam. No matter whither, so you come not
here.



*' so fond — ] i. c. so indiscreet, so inconsiderate.

' I'lic bony jiri.srr — ] The word homu/ occurs more tlian onic.
in the novel from which this play oi' Ax You I Alec IL is tiiken. It is
liiicwise much used by the common people in the northern coun-
ties. I believe, however, h'Dnj to be the true rcjuhiig.

MALUNi:.

* This is no place,] i. e. for you.

9



130 AS YOU LIKE It.

Orl. What, wouldst thou have me go and beg my
food ?
Or, with a base and boisterous sword, enforce
A thievish Uving on the common road }
This I must do, or know not what to do :
Yet this I w ill not do, do how I can ;
I rather will subject me to the malice
Of a diverted' blood, and bloody brother.

Adam. But do not so : I have five hundred crowns.
The thrifty hire I sav'd 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 (rorncrs thrown ;
Take that : and He that doth tlie 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 aj)ply
Hot and rebellious liquors in my blood ;
Nor did not with unbashful forehead wqo
The means of weakness and debility ;
Therefore my age is as a lusty winter.
Frosty, but kindly : let me go with you ;
I'll do the service of a younger .man
In all your business and necessities.

Orl. O good old man ; how well in thee appears
The constant service of the antique world,
W hen service sm eat for duty, not for meed !
Thoii art not for the fashion of these times,
W^here none will sweat, but for promotion ;
And having that, do choke their service np
Even with the having :* it is not so with thee.
But, poor old man, thou prun'st a rotten tree,

- (livcTtod — 3 turned out of the course of nature.



â– * Even iciih the having:] Even with the protnot ion ^iuiie^ by
S'carvjceis sen'icc-extinguishf.'tl. JoH^?*D^^



AS YOU LIKE IT. 133

That camiof so much as a blossom yield,
In lieu of all thy pains and husbandry :
But come thy ways, we'll ^o along together ;
And ere \\o have thy youthful wages spent,
"We'll light ujion some settled low content.

Ad(ivi. 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, hut now live here no more. •"
At seventeen years many their fortunes seek ;
But at fourscore, it is too late a week :
Yet fortune cannot recompense me better,
Thau to die well, and not my master's debtor.



SCENE IV.

The Forest of Ardcn.

E?iter Rosalind /;? bor/s clothes, Celia drest like a,
Sluplierdcss, and Touchstone.

Ros^ O Juj)iter! how weary are my spirits!

Touch. I care not for my spirits, if my legs were
not weary.

R(js. I could find in my heart to disgrace my
man's apparel, and to cry like a woman : but ^ in.ist
comf-rt the weaker vessel, as doublet ana huse
o'.iglit to show itself CO ui"ageo us to petticoat: there-
fore, courage, good Aliena.

Ctl. 1 pray you, bear \f ith me j I oanuot go lio
furtl'.er.

Touch. For my part, I had rather bear with you,
thin I. ear you : yet I should bear no cross," if] did

' n') croi^j J A cross M'as a piece of money stamped wiL'i a

cr#if. On lb* our uullivr U pcrpciuuli/ (iuibbljin;.



132 AS YOU LIKE IT.

bear }"ou ; for, I think, you have no money in your
purse.

Ros. Well, this is the forest of Arden.

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

Ros. Ay, be so, good Touchstone : — Look you,
who comes here ; a young man, and an old, in
solemn talk.

Enter Corin and Silvius.

Cor. That is the way to make her scorn you still.

Sil. O Corin, that thou knew'st how I do love
her !

Cor. I partly guess ; for I have lov'd ere now.

Sil. No, Corin, being old, thou canst not guess %
Though in thy youth thou wast as true a lover
As ever sigh'd upon a midnight pillow :
But if thy love were ever like to mine,
(As sure I think did never man love so,)
How many actions most ridiculous
Hast thou been drawn to by thy fantasy ?

Cor. Into a thousand that I have forgotten.

Sil. O, thou didst then ne'er love so heartily :
If thou remember'st not the slightest folly
That ever love did make thee run into.
Thou hast not lov'd :
Or if thou hast not sat as I do now.
Wearying thy hearer in thy mistress' praise.
Thou hast not lov'd :
Or if lliou hast not broke from company,
Abruptly, as my passion now makes me,
Thou hast not lov'd : O Phebe, Phcbe, Phebe !

[^E.vit Silvius.

Ros. Alas, poor shepherd! searching of thy
wound, *

I have by hard adventure found mine own.



AS YOU LIKE IT. 133

Touch. And I mine : I remember, when I was
in love, I broke my sword upon a stone, and bid
iiim take that for coming aniji'ht^ to Jane Smile :
and I remember tiie kissing^ of lier batlct,' and the