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But poore old man, thou prun'ft a rotten tree,
That cannot so much as a bloffome yeelde,
In lieu of all thy paines and husbandrie,
But come thy waies, weele goe along together,
And ere we haue thy youthfull wages spent,
Weele light vpon some setled low content.

Ad. Mafter goe on, and I will follow thee
To the last gafpe with truth and loyaltie,
From feauentie yeeres, till now almoft fourefcore
Here liued I, but now liue here no more

At feauenteene yeeres, many their fortunes feeke
But at fourefcore, it is too late a weeke,
Yet fortune cannot recompence me better
Then to die well, and not my Masters debter.

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73. feauentie] Seventy Ff. seventeen Rowe et seq.

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65. rotten tree] MOBERLY: Orlando says melancholy things, as in I, ii; but his elastic mind rises instantly from such thoughts, and in a few moments he anticipates some settled low content.' A fine instance of the same manly temper is found in the Iliad, vi, where Hector at one moment dwells sorrowfully on his wife's inevitable doom of slavery at Argos, and the next thinks of her as a joyful Trojan mother welcoming back her victorious son (see vv. 447-465 and 476–481).

71. thee] Note the change of the personal pronoun with the changed personal relations.-ED.

73. seauentie] See Text. Note for the obvious correction.

76. a weeke] CALDECOTT. That is, a period of time, indefinitely. The calculation of time by this interval was not then confined, as it is at present, to small contracts or domestic engagements and a fixed period, but embraced a large and indefinite compass and extended to all things. To whose heavenly praise My soule hath bin devoted many a weeke,' Heywood's Britaine's Troy, 1609, p. 251. HALLIWELL adds also, from Heywood's Workes [Spenser Soc. ed. p. 74—ap. Wright]. 'And, amend ye or not, I am to olde a yere.' WRIGHT: But it seems more likely that 'a week' is an adverbial phrase equivalent to 'i' the week.' See 'a night,' line 49, in the next scene. VERITY: Perhaps in the week is the meaning; or, which seems to me more probable, 'by a week.'

Scena Quarta.

Enter Rofaline for Ganimed, Celia for Aliena, and
Clowne, alias Touchflone.

Rof. O Iupiter, how merry are my spirits?

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3. merry] Ff, Rowe, Pope, Cald. Knt. weary Theob. et cet.

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3. merry] THEOBALD: And yet, within the space of one intervening line, she says she could find in her heart to disgrace her man's apparel and cry like a woman. Sure, this is but a very bad symptom of the briskness of spirits: rather a direct proof of the contrary disposition. Mr Warburton and I both concurr'd in conjecturing it should be, as I have reform'd it in the text: 'how weary are my spirits.' And the Clown's reply makes this reading certain. [Weary was also suggested to Theobald in 1732 by an anonymous correspondent, L. H.; see Nichols's Illust. ii, 632.—ED.] GUTHRIE (Crit. Rev., Dec. 1765, p. 407): We think that Rosalind's rejoinder [lines 6, &c.] makes the original reading certain; from this speech (which we are to suppose Celia not to hear) Rosalind affects a merriness of spirits. MALONE: Rosalind invokes 'Jupiter' because he was supposed to be always in good spirits. So afterwards: 'O most gentle Jupiter!' The context and the Clown's reply render certain Theobald's emendation. WHITER (p. 16): The context, however, and the Clown's reply, added to the comment of Mr Malone, establish the original reading and render Theobald's emendation certainly wrong. Does not the reader perceive that the whole humour of the passage consists in the word MERRY, and that Rosalind speaks thus ironically in order to comfort Celia? O Jupiter!' says she, what MERRY spirits I am in!' To which the Clown replies, 'I care not whether my spirits were good or bad, if my legs were not weary.'—' Indeed,' adds Rosalind, 'to speak the truth, tho' I pretend in my mannish character to be in good spirits, and not to be weary, yet I could find in my heart to disgrace my man's apparel and to cry like a woman; as it becomes me, however, to comfort the weaker vessel, I must assume a quality which I have not;— therefore, courage, good Aliena, bear fatigue as I do, good Aliena.' Nothing is more certain than this explanation. KNIGHT pronounces Whiter's explanation as marked 'with great good sense.' COLLIER: Why should Rosalind assume good spirits here to Celia, when in the very next sentence she utters she says that her spirits are so bad that she could almost cry? WHITE (ed. i): If Rosalind were to say that her spirits were 'merry,' Touchstone's reply would have no point. In WALKER'S chapter (Crit. ii, 300) on 'm and w confounded' this line is cited; and that Knight should have followed the Folio in reading 'merry' Walker marks with an exclamation. DYCE quotes Knight's note, printing in small capitals GREAT GOOD SENSE,' and adds at the conclusion: ‘Surely such notes are quite enough to make any one "merry,”—absolute Cordials for Low Spirits.' [With all deference to my betters, I respectfully but firmly protest against making the cart draw the horse, and changing Rosalind's speech to suit the humour in Touchstone's. The confusion of m and w, on which Walker

Clo. I care not for my spirits, if my legges were not wearie.

Rof. I could finde in my heart to disgrace my mans apparell, and to cry like a woman: but I must comfort the weaker veffell, as doublet and hofe ought to show it felfe coragious to petty-coate; therefore courage, good Aliena.

Cel. I pray you beare with me, I cannot goe no further.

Clo. For my part, I had rather beare with you, then

7. to] Om. Rowe +.
9. to] to a FF, Rowe.

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ΙΟ

13

II. cannot] can Ff, Rowe, Pope, Han. Johns. Cap. Coll. Sing. Clke, Ktly.

11, 12. further] farther Coll.

relies, will do well enough in such words as may and way, mind and wind, meek and week, &c., but a little too much confusion is demanded to justify the change of merry into wearie. The ductus literarum is helpful where nonsense is to be converted to sense, but is there any nonsense here? Is it not clear that Rosalind is talking for effect? With Celia 'fainting almost to death' and needing every possible encouragement, is it likely that Rosalind, the taller and stronger of the two, would utter such a wail of despair as the substitution of weary for 'merry' would make her sigh forth? Of course this merriment of hers is assumed, and that it is assumed, and that we may know that it is assumed, she tells us, in an aside, by confessing that in her heart she is ready to cry like a woman. This confession must be in an aside; at least Celia must not hear it; if Celia heard it no syllable of stimulus would she have found in an encouragement thus clearly and confessedly fictitious; she must believe Rosalind's courage to be genuine if it is to impart any strength to her. Grant that this last confession of Rosalind's is an aside, then it is clear that in the first line, which cannot be an aside, we must retain 'merry,' and with it the strength of Rosalind's character. Deny that this confession is an aside, then we may adopt Theobald's weary, add a feeble ray of humour to Touchstone's remark, reduce all that Rosalind says to a whine, and weaken Celia's character by showing her capable of being encouraged by a jauntiness confessedly and openly false and assumed.-ED.]

9. therefore courage] To indicate the termination of the aside, and that 'courage' is the first word addressed to Celia, I think this should be printed 'Therefore, -courage, good Aliena!'-ED.

II. cannot goe no] See line 52 of preceding scene. CALDECOTT regards this double negative as so thoroughly Shakespearian that he cites the change in the Second Folio (see Text. Notes) as one among many proofs of Malone's theory, that the alterations in that edition were arbitrary and made without a knowledge of the author's manner.' But DYCE (ed. iii) says: 'I feel strongly tempted to read here, with the Second Folio, "I can go no further," the very words of Adam in the first line of the sixth scene below.' [However strong the temptation, it is unquestionably wise to resist it.-ED.]

13, 14. beare... beare] A play on the same word is cited by Steevens in Rich. III: III, i, 128; and by Wright in Two Gent. I, i, 125–128.

beare you yet I should beare no crosse if I did beare
you, for I thinke you haue no money in your purse.
Rof. Well, this is the Forrest of Arden.

Clo. I, now am I in Arden, the more foole I, when I was at home I was in a better place, but Trauellers must be content.

15

Enter Corin and Siluius.

Rof. I,be fo good Touchstone: Look you, who comes here, a yong man and an old in folemne talke.

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

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14. crosse] DYCE: 'The ancient penny, according to Stow, had a double cross with a crest stamped on it, so that it might be easily broken in the midst, or in four quarters. Hence it became a common phrase when a person had no money about him, to say, he had not a single cross. As this was certainly an unfortunate circumstance, there is no end to the quibbling on this poor word,'--Gifford's note on Johnson's Works, vol. i, p. 134. WRIGHT: A play upon the figurative expression in Matthew, x, 38.

17. Arden] UPTON (p. 245): The Clown, agreeable to his character, is in a punning vein, and replys thus, 'Ay, now I am in a den,' &c. HARTLEY COLERIDGE (ii, 141): Nothing can exceed the mastery with which Shakespeare, without any obtrusive or undramatic description, transports the imagination to the sunny glades and massy shadows of umbrageous Arden. The leaves rustle and glisten, the brooks murmur unseen in the copses, the flowers enamel the savannas, the sheep wander on the distant hills, the deer glance by and hide themselves in the thickets, and the sheepcotes sprinkle the far landscape spontaneously, without being shown off, or talked about. You hear the song of the birds, the belling of the stags, the bleating of the flocks, and a thousand sylvan, pastoral sounds beside, blent with the soft plaints and pleasant ambiguities of the lovers, the sententious satire of Jacques, and the courtly fooling of Touchstone, without being told to listen to them. Shakespeare does all that the most pictorial dramatist could do, without ever sinking the dramatist in the landscape-painter. The exuberant descriptions of some recent authors are little more dramatic than the voluminous stage directions in translated German melodramas. I know not what share the absence of painted scenes might have in preserving our old dramatists from this excess, but I believe that the low state of estimation of landscapepainting had a good deal to do with it. Luxurious description characterises the second childhood of poetry. In its last stage, it begins, like Falstaff, to babble of green fields.

21, 22. WALKER (Crit. i, 16): Arrange thus:

'Ay,

Be so, good Touchstone;-Look you, who comes here;

A young man and an old, in solemn talk.'

This, too, serves as a stepping-stone from the prose dialogue preceding to the conversation in verse between Corin and Silvius.

Sil. Oh Corin, that thou knew'ft how I do loue her.

Cor. I partly gueffe: for I haue lou'd ere now.

Sil. No Corin, being old, thou canst not guesse,
Though in thy youth thou waft as true a louer
As euer figh'd vpon a midnight pillow:

But if thy loue were euer like to mine,
As fure I thinke did neuer man loue fo:
How many actions moft ridiculous,

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Haft thou beene drawne to by thy fantasie?

Cor. Into a thousand that I haue forgotten.

Sil. Oh thou didst then neuer loue fo hartily,

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27. wast] ALLEN (MS): Wert seems to be required. Silvius does not mean to state or to recognise the fact that Corin really had been such a lover, but merely to concede that if Corin had been, &c. he could not now, in his old age, guess, &c.

32. fantasie] WRIGHT: The earlier form of the word 'fancy.' 'Fantasie' occurs in Chaucer's Merchants Tale, 1. 9451, in the margin of the later Wiclifite version of Josh. xxii, 19, and perhaps earlier still. ARBER, in the few words of Introduction to his reprint of Dryden's Essay on Dramatic Poesie (English Garner, iii, 502), notes four changes of the meaning of 'fancy.' First, in the Elizabethan Age it was but another word for personal Love or Affection. Second, by the Restoration Age its meaning had utterly changed. Sir Robert Howard, who wrote it Phancy, Dryden, and that generation understood by it, Imagination, the mental power of Picturing forth. Third, Coleridge, in his Biographia Literaria, 1812, endeavours yet further to distinguish between Imagination and Fancy; calling Milton an Imaginative Poet, and Cowley a Fanciful one. Fourth, it is now also used in another sense, 'I do not fancy that,' equivalent to 'I do not like or prefer that.'

34. JOHNSON: I am inclined to believe that from this passage Suckling took the hint of his song: 'Honest lover, whosoever, If in all thy love there ever Was one wav'ring thought; if thy flame Were not still even, still the same; Know this Thou lov'st amiss, And to love true, Thou must begin again, and love anew,' &c. 36. into] The second syllable receives an accent. Abbott, § 457, a.

See Walker (Crit. ii, 173) or

or three accents are frequently These lines are often found in Thus in the madness of Lear,

37, 40, 43. ABBOTT, § 511: Single lines with two interspersed amid the ordinary verses of five accents. passages of soliloquy where passion is at its height. IV, vi, 112–127. So in this impassioned speech of Silvius.

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