During the time that France was divided into provinces (or dukedoms, as
they were called), there reigned in one of these provinces an usurper,
who had deposed and banished his elder brother, the lawful duke.
The duke, who was thus driven from his dominions, retired with a few
faithful followers to the forest of Arden; and here the good duke
lived with his loving friends, who had put themselves into a voluntary
exile for his sake, while their lands and revenues enriched the false
usurper. And custom soon made the life of careless ease they led here
more sweet to them than the pomp and uneasy splendor of a courtier’s
life. Here they lived like the old Robin Hood of England, and to this
forest many noble youths daily resorted from the court, and did fleet
the time carelessly, as they did who lived in the golden age. In the
summer they lay along under the fine shade of the large forest trees,
marking the playful sports of the wild deer; and so fond were they of
these poor dappled fools, who seemed to be the native inhabitants of
the forest, that it grieved them to be forced to kill them to supply
themselves with venison for their food. When the cold winds of winter
made the duke feel the change of his adverse fortune, he would endure
it patiently, and say, “These chilling winds which blow upon my body,
are true counselors; they do not flatter, but represent truly to me my
condition; and though they bite sharply, their tooth is nothing like so
keen as that of unkindness and ingratitude. I find that, however men
speak against adversity, yet some sweet uses are to be extracted from
it, like the jewel, precious for medicine, which is taken from the head
of the venomous and despised toad.” In this manner did the patient duke
draw an useful moral from everything that he saw; and by the help of
this moralizing turn in that life of his, remote from public haunts, he
could find tongues in trees, books in the running brooks, sermons in
stones, and good in everything.
The banished duke had an only daughter, named Rosalind, whom the
usurper, Duke Frederick, when he banished her father, still retained
in his court as a companion for his own daughter Celia. A strict
friendship subsisted between these ladies, which the disagreement
between their fathers did not in the least interrupt, Celia striving
by every kindness in her power to make amends to Rosalind for the
injustice of her own father in deposing the father of Rosalind;
and whenever the thoughts of her father’s banishment, and her own
dependence on the false usurper, made Rosalind melancholy, Celia’s
whole care was to comfort and console her.
One day when Celia was talking in her usual kind manner to Rosalind,
saying, “I pray you, Rosalind, my sweet cousin, be merry,” a messenger
entered from the duke, to tell them that if they wished to see a
wrestling match, which was just going to begin, they must come
instantly to the court before the palace; and Celia, thinking it would
amuse Rosalind, agreed to go and see it. In those times wrestling was
a favorite sport even in the courts of princes, and before fair ladies
and princesses. To this wrestling match therefore Celia and Rosalind
went. They found that it was likely to prove a very tragical sight;
for a large and powerful man who had long been practiced in the art of
wrestling, and had slain many men in contests of this kind, was just
going to wrestle with a very young man, who, from his extreme youth and
inexperience in the art, the beholders all thought would certainly be
killed.
When the duke saw Celia and Rosalind, he said, “How now, daughter and
niece, are you crept hither to see the wrestling? You will take little
delight in it, there is such odds in the men. In pity to this young
man, I would wish to persuade him from wrestling. Speak to him, ladies,
and see if you can move him.” The ladies were well pleased to perform
this humane office, and first Celia entreated the young stranger that
he would desist from the attempt; and then Rosalind spoke so kindly to
him, and with such feeling consideration for the danger he was about to
undergo, that instead of being persuaded by her gentle words to forego
his purpose, all his thoughts were bent to distinguish himself by his
courage in this lovely lady’s eyes. He refused the request of Celia and
Rosalind in such graceful and modest words, that they felt still more
concern for him; he concluding his refusal with saying, “I am sorry to
deny such 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 one shamed that was never gracious; if I am killed, there is
one dead who is willing to die. I shall do my friends no wrong, for I
have none to lament me; the world no injury, for in it I have nothing;
for I only fill up a place in the world which may be better supplied
when I have made it empty.”
And now the wrestling match began. Celia wished the young stranger
might not be hurt; but Rosalind felt the most for him. The friendless
state that he said he was in, and that he wished to die, made Rosalind
think that he was, like herself, unfortunate; and she pitied him so
much, and so deep an interest she took in his danger while he was
wrestling, that she might almost be said at that moment to have fallen
in love with him. The kindness shown this unknown youth by these fair
and noble ladies gave him courage and strength, so that he performed
wonders; and in the end completely conquered his antagonist, who was so
much hurt, that for a while he was unable to speak or move.
The duke Frederick was much pleased with the courage and skill shown by
the young stranger; and desired to know his name and parentage, meaning
to take him under his protection. The stranger said his name was
Orlando, and that he was the youngest son of Sir Rowland de Boys. Sir
Roland de Boys, the father of Orlando, had been dead some years; but,
when he was living, he had been a true subject and a dear friend of
the banished duke: therefore when Frederick heard Orlando was the son
of his banished brother’s friend, all his liking for this brave young
man changed into displeasure, and he left the place in very ill humor.
Hating to hear the very name of any of his brother’s friends, and yet
still admiring the valor of the youth, he said, as he went out, that he
wished Orlando had been the son of any other man.
Rosalind was delighted to hear that her new favorite was the son of
her father’s old friend; and she said to Celia, “My father loved Sir
Rowland de Boys, and if I had known this young man was his son, I would
have added tears to my entreaties before he should have ventured.”
The ladies then went up to him, and seeing him abashed by the sudden
displeasure shown by the duke, they spoke kind and encouraging words to
him, and Rosalind, when they were going away, turned back to speak some
more civil things to the brave young son of her father’s old friend;
and taking a chain off her neck, she said, “Gentleman, wear this for
me. I am out of suits with fortune, or I would give you a more valuable
present.” When the ladies were alone, Rosalind’s talk being still of
Orlando, Celia began to perceive her cousin had fallen in love with
the handsome young wrestler, and she said to Rosalind, “Is it possible
you should fall in love so suddenly?” Rosalind replied, “The duke, my
father, loved his father dearly.” “But,” said Celia, “does it therefore
follow that you should love his son dearly? for then I ought to hate
him, for my father hated his father; yet I do not hate Orlando.”
Frederick being enraged at the sight of Sir Rowland de Boys’ son,
which reminded him of the many friends the banished duke had among the
nobility, and having been for some time displeased with his niece,
because the people praised her for her virtues, and pitied her for her
good father’s sake, his malice suddenly broke out against her; and
while Celia and Rosalind were talking of Orlando, Frederick entered the
room, and with looks full of anger ordered Rosalind instantly to leave
the palace, and follow her father into banishment; telling Celia, who
in vain pleaded for her, that he had only suffered Rosalind to stay
upon her account. “I did not then,” said Celia, “entreat you to let
her stay, for I was too young at that time to value her; but now that
I know her worth, and that we so long have slept together, rose at the
same instant, learned, played, and eat together, I can not live out
of her company.” Frederick replied, “She is too subtle for you; her
smoothness, her very silence and her patience, speak to the people, and
they pity her. You are a fool to plead for her, for you will seem more
bright and virtuous when she is gone; therefore open not your lips in
her favor, for the doom which I have passed upon her is irrevocable.”
When Celia found she could not prevail upon her father to let Rosalind
remain with her, she generously resolved to accompany her; and, leaving
her father’s palace that night, she went along with her friend to seek
Rosalind’s father, the banished duke, in the forest of Arden. Before
they set out, Celia considered that it would be unsafe for two young
ladies to travel in the rich clothes they then wore; she therefore
proposed that they should disguise their rank by dressing themselves
like country maids. Rosalind said it would be a still greater
protection if one of them was to be dressed like a man; and so it was
quickly agreed on between them, that as Rosalind was the tallest,
she should wear the dress of a young countryman, and Celia should be
habited like a country lass, and that they should say they were brother
and sister, and Rosalind said she would be called Ganimed, and Celia
chose the name of Aliena. In this disguise, and taking their money and
jewels to defray their expenses, these fair princesses set out on their
long travel; for the forest of Arden was a long way off, beyond the
boundaries of the duke’s dominions.
The lady Rosalind (or Ganimed as she must now be called) with her manly
garb, seemed to have put on a manly courage. The faithful friendship
Celia had shown in accompanying Rosalind so many weary miles, made
the new brother, in recompense for this true love, exert a cheerful
spirit, as if he were indeed Ganimed, the rustic and stout-hearted
brother of the gentle village maiden, Aliena. When at last they came
to the forest of Arden, they no longer found the convenient inns and
good accommodations they had met with on the road; and, being in want
of food and rest, Ganimed, who had so merrily cheered his sister with
pleasant speeches and happy remarks all the way, now owned to Aliena
that he was so weary, he could find it in his heart to disgrace his
man’s apparel, and cry like a woman; and Aliena declared she could
go no further; and then again Ganimed tried to recollect that it was
a man’s duty to comfort and console a woman, as the weaker vessel,
and to seem courageous to his new sister, he said, “Come, have a good
heart, my sister Aliena; we are now at the end of our travel, in the
forest of Arden.” But feigned manliness and forced courage would no
longer support them; for though they were in the forest of Arden, they
knew not where to find the duke; and here the travel of these weary
ladies might have come to a sad conclusion, for they might have lost
themselves, and have perished for want of food; but, providentially, as
they were sitting on the grass, almost dying of fatigue and hopeless
of any relief, a countryman chanced to pass that way, and Ganimed once
more tried to speak with a manly boldness, saying, “Shepherd, if love
of gold in this desert place procure us entertainment, I pray you bring
us where we may rest ourselves; for this young maid, my sister, is much
fatigued with travelling, and faints for want of food.”
The man replied that he was only a servant to a shepherd, and that his
master’s house was just going to be sold, and therefore they would find
but poor entertainment; but that if they would go with him, they should
be welcome to what there was. They followed the man, the near prospect
of relief giving them fresh strength; and bought the house and sheep
of the shepherd, and took the man who conducted them to the shepherd’s
house, to wait on them; and being by this means so fortunately provided
with a neat cottage, and well supplied with provisions, they agreed to
stay here till they could learn in what part of the forest the duke
dwelt. When they were rested after the fatigue of their journey, they
began to like their new way of life, and almost fancied themselves the
shepherd and shepherdess they feigned to be; yet sometimes Ganimed
remembered he had once been the same lady Rosalind who had so dearly
loved the brave Orlando, because he was the son of old Sir Rowland,
her father’s friend; and though Ganimed thought that Orlando was many
miles distant, even so many weary miles as they had traveled, yet it
soon appeared that Orlando was also in the forest of Arden; and in this
manner this strange event came to pass.
Orlando was the youngest son of Sir Rowland de Boys, who, when he died
left him (Orlando being then very young) to the care of his eldest
brother, Oliver, charging Oliver on his blessing to give his brother
a good education, and provide for him as became the dignity of their
ancient house. Oliver proved an unworthy brother; and disregarding the
commands of his dying father, he never put his brother to school, but
kept him untaught and entirely neglected. But in his nature and in the
noble qualities of his mind Orlando so much resembled his excellent
father, that without any advantages of education he seemed like a
youth who had been bred with the utmost care; and Oliver so envied
the fine person and dignified manners of his untutored brother, that
at last he wished to destroy him; and to effect this he set on people
to persuade him to wrestle with the famous wrestler, who, as has been
before related, had killed so many men. Now it was this cruel brother’s
neglect of him which made Orlando say he wished to die, being so
friendless.
When, contrary to the wicked hopes he had formed, his brother proved
victorious, his envy and malice knew no bounds, and he swore he would
burn the chamber where Orlando slept. He was overheard making this vow
by one that had been an old and faithful servant to their father, and
that loved Orlando because he resembled Sir Rowland. This old man went
out to meet him when he returned from the Duke’s palace, and when he
saw Orlando, the peril his dear young master was in made him break out
with these passionate exclamations: “O gentle master, my sweet master,
O you memory of old Sir Rowland! why are you virtuous? why are you
gentle, strong and valiant? and why would you be so fond to overcome
the famous wrestler? Your praise has come too swiftly home before you.”
Orlando, wondering what all this meant, asked him what was the matter?
and then the old man told him how his wicked brother, envying the love
all people bore him, and now hearing the fame he had gained by his
victory in the duke’s palace, intended to destroy him, by setting fire
to his chamber that night; and in conclusion, advised him to escape the
danger he was in by instant flight: and knowing Orlando had no money,
Adam (for that was the good old man’s name) had brought out with him
his own little hoard, and he said, “I have five hundred crowns, the
thrifty hire I saved under your father, and laid by to be provision
for me when my old limbs should become unfit for service; take that,
and he that doth the ravens feed be comfort to my age! Here is the
gold; all this I give to you: let me be your servant: though I look
old, I will do the service of a younger man in all your business and
necessities.” “O good old man!” said Orlando, “how well appears in you
the constant service of the old world? You are not for the fashion of
these times. We will go along together, and before your youthful wages
are spent, I shall light upon some means for both our maintenance.”
Together then this faithful servant and his loved master set out, and
Orlando and Adam traveled on, uncertain what course to pursue, till
they came to the forest of Arden, and there they found themselves in
the same distress for want of food that Ganimed and Aliena had been.
They wandered on, seeking some human habitation, till they were almost
spent with hunger and fatigue. Adam at last said, “O my dear master,
I die for want of food; I can go no farther!” He then laid himself
down, thinking to make that place his grave, and bade his dear master
farewell. Orlando, seeing him in this weak state, took his old servant
up in his arms, and carried him under the shelter of some pleasant
trees; and he said to him, “Cheerily, old Adam, rest your weary limbs
here awhile, and do not talk of dying.” Orlando then searched about
to find some food, and he happened to arrive at that part of the
forest where the duke was; and he and his friends were just going to
eat their dinner, this royal duke being seated on the grass, under no
other canopy than the shady covert of some large trees. Orlando, whom
hunger had made desperate, drew his sword, intending to take meat by
force, and said, “Forbear, and eat no more; I must have your food!”
The duke asked him if distress had made him so bold, or if he were a
rude despiser of good manners? On this Orlando said he was dying with
hunger: and then the duke told him he was welcome to sit down and eat
with them. Orlando hearing him speak so gently, put up his sword, and
blushed with shame at the rude manner in which he had demanded their
food. “Pardon me, I pray you,” said he; “I thought that all things
had been savage here, and therefore I put on the countenance of stern
command; but whatever men you are, that in this desert, under the shade
of melancholy boughs, lose and neglect the creeping hours of time; if
ever you have looked on better days; if ever you have been where bells
have knolled to church; if you have ever sat at any good man’s feast;
if ever from your eyelids you have wiped a tear, and know what it is
to pity or be pitied, may gentle speeches now move you to do me human
courtesy!” The duke replied, “True it is that we are men (as you say)
who have seen better days, and though we have now our habitation in
this wild forest, we have lived in towns and cities, and have with holy
bell been knolled to church, have sat at good men’s feasts, and from
our eyes we have wiped the drops which sacred pity has engendered:
therefore sit you down, and take of our refreshment as much as will
minister to your wants.” “There is an old poor man,” answered Orlando,
“who has limped after me many a weary step in pure love, oppressed at
once with two sad infirmities, age and hunger; till he be satisfied, I
must not touch a bit.” “Go, find him out, and bring him hither,” said
the duke; “we will forbear to eat till you return.” Then Orlando went
like a doe to find its fawn and give it food; and presently returned,
bringing Adam in his arms; and the duke said: “Set down your venerable
burthen; you are both welcome:” and they fed the old man, and cheered
his heart, and he revived, and recovered his health and strength again.
The duke inquired who Orlando was, and when he found that he was the
son of his old friend, Sir Rowland de Boys, he took him under his
protection, and Orlando and his old servant lived with the duke in the
forest. Orlando arrived in the forest not many days after Ganimed
and Aliena came there, and (as has been before related) bought the
shepherd’s cottage. Ganimed and Aliena were strangely surprised to find
the name of Rosalind carved on the trees, and love sonnets fastened to
them, all addressed to Rosalind; and while they were wondering how this
could be, they met Orlando, and they perceived the chain which Rosalind
had given him about his neck.
Orlando little thought that Ganimed was the fair princess Rosalind,
who by her noble condescension and favor had so won his heart that
he passed his whole time in carving her name upon the trees, and
writing sonnets in praise of her beauty; but being much pleased with
the graceful air of this pretty shepherd youth, he entered into
conversation with him, and he thought he saw a likeness in Ganimed to
his beloved Rosalind, but that he had none of the dignified deportment
of that noble lady; for Ganimed assumed the forward manners often seen
in youths when they are between boys and men, and with much archness
and humor talked to Orlando of a certain lover, “who,” said he, “haunts
our forest, and spoils our young trees with carving Rosalind upon their
barks; and he hangs odes upon hawthorns, and elegies upon brambles, all
praising this same Rosalind. If I could find this lover, I would give
him some good counsel that would soon cure him of his love.”
Orlando confessed that he was the fond lover of whom he spoke, and
asked Ganimed to give him the good counsel he talked of. The remedy
Ganimed proposed, and the counsel he gave him, was that Orlando should
come every day to the cottage where he and his sister Aliena dwelt.
“And then,” said Ganimed, “I will feign myself to be Rosalind, and
you shall feign to court me in the same manner as you would do if I
was Rosalind, and then I will imitate the fantastic ways of whimsical
ladies to their lovers, till I make you ashamed of your love; and this
is the way I propose to cure you.” Orlando had no great faith in the
remedy, yet he agreed to come every day to Ganimed’s cottage and feign
a playful courtship; and every day Orlando visited Ganimed and Aliena,
and Orlando called the shepherd Ganimed his Rosalind, and every day
talked over all the fine words and flattering compliments which young
men delight to use when they court. It does not appear, however, that
Ganimed made any progress in curing Orlando of his love for Rosalind.
Though Orlando thought all this was but a sportive play (not dreaming
that Ganimed was his very Rosalind), yet the opportunity it gave him
of saying all the fond things he had in his heart, pleased his fancy
almost as well as it did Ganimed’s, who enjoyed the secret jest in
knowing these fine love speeches were all addressed to the right person.
In this manner many days passed pleasantly on with these young people;
and the good-natured Aliena seeing it made Ganimed happy, let him have
his own way, and was diverted at the mock courtship, and did not care
to remind Ganimed that the lady Rosalind had not yet made herself known
to the duke, her father, whose place of resort in the forest they
had learnt from Orlando. Ganimed met the duke one day, and had some
talk with him, and the duke asked of what parentage he came; Ganimed
answered that he came of as good parentage as he did: which made the
duke smile, for he did not suspect the pretty shepherd boy came of
royal lineage. Then seeing the duke look well and happy, Ganimed was
content to put off all further explanation for a few days longer.
One morning, as Orlando was going to visit Ganimed, he saw a man lying
asleep on the ground, and a large green snake had twisted itself
about his neck. The snake, seeing Orlando approach, glided away among
the bushes. Orlando went nearer, and then he discovered a lioness
lie couching, with her head on the ground, with a cat-like watch,
waiting till the sleeping man awaked (for it is said that lions will
prey on nothing that is dead or sleeping). It seemed as if Orlando
was sent by Providence to free the man from the danger of the snake
and lioness: but when Orlando looked in the man’s face, he perceived
that the sleeper, who was exposed to this double peril, was his own
brother Oliver, who had so cruelly used him, and had threatened to
destroy him by fire; and he was almost tempted to leave him a prey to
the hungry lioness: but brotherly affection and the gentleness of his
nature soon overcame his first anger against his brother; and he drew
his sword, and attacked the lioness, and slew her, and thus preserved
his brother’s life both from the venomous snake and from the furious
lioness; but before Orlando could conquer the lioness, she had torn one
of his arms with her sharp claws.
While Orlando was engaged with the lioness, Oliver awaked, and
perceiving that his brother Orlando, whom he had so cruelly treated,
was saving him from the fury of a wild beast at the risk of his own
life, shame and remorse at once seized him, and he repented of his
unworthy conduct, and besought with many tears his brother’s pardon for
the injuries he had done him. Orlando rejoiced to see him so penitent,
and readily forgave him; they embraced each other; and from that hour
Oliver loved Orlando with a true brotherly affection, though he had
come to the forest bent on his destruction.
The wound in Orlando’s arm having bled very much, he found himself
too weak to go to visit Ganimed, and therefore he desired his brother
to go, and tell Ganimed, “whom,” said Orlando, “I in sport do call
my Rosalind,” the accident which had befallen him. Thither then
Oliver went, and told to Ganimed and Aliena how Orlando had saved his
life; and when he had finished the story of Orlando’s bravery, and
his own providential escape, he owned to them that he was Orlando’s
brother, who had so cruelly used him; and then he told them of their
reconciliation.
The sincere sorrow that Oliver expressed for his offenses, made such
a lively impression on the kind heart of Aliena, that she instantly
fell in love with him; and Oliver, observing how much she pitied the
distress he told her he felt for his fault, as suddenly fell in love
with her. But while love was thus stealing into the hearts of Aliena
and Oliver, he was no less busy with Ganimed, who hearing of the danger
Orlando had been in, and that he was wounded by the lioness, fainted;
and when he recovered, he pretended that he had counterfeited the swoon
in the imaginary character of Rosalind, and Ganimed said to Oliver,
“Tell your brother Orlando how well I counterfeited a swoon.” But
Oliver saw by the paleness of his complexion that he really did faint,
and much wondering at the weakness of the young man, he said, “Well, if
you did counterfeit, take a good heart, and counterfeit to be a man.”
“So I do,” replied Ganimed (truly), “but I should have been a woman by
right.”
Oliver made this visit a very long one, and when at last he returned
back to his brother, he had much news to tell him, for, besides the
account of Ganimed’s fainting at the hearing that Orlando was wounded,
Oliver told him how he had fallen in love with the fair shepherdess
Aliena, and that she had lent a favorable ear to his suit, even in this
their first interview; and he talked to his brother, as of a thing
almost settled that he should marry Aliena, saying, that he so well
loved her he would live here as a shepherd, and settle his estate and
house at home upon Orlando.
“You have my consent,” said Orlando. “Let your wedding be to-morrow,
and I will invite the duke and his friends. Go and persuade your
shepherdess to agree to this; she is now alone; for look, here comes
her brother.” Oliver went to Aliena; and Ganimed, whom Orlando had
perceived approaching, came to inquire after the health of his wounded
friend. When Orlando and Ganimed began to talk over the sudden love
which had taken place between Oliver and Aliena, Orlando said he had
advised his brother to persuade his fair shepherdess to be married on
the morrow, and then he added how much he could wish to be married
on the same day to his Rosalind. Ganimed, who well approved of this
arrangement, said that if Orlando really loved Rosalind as well as
he professed to do, he should have his wish; for on the morrow he
would engage to make Rosalind appear in her own person, and also that
Rosalind should be willing to marry Orlando.
This seemingly wonderful event, which, as Ganimed was the lady
Rosalind, he could so easily perform, he pretended he would bring to
pass by the aid of magic, which he said he had learnt from an uncle who
was a famous magician. The fond lover, Orlando, half believing and half
doubting what he heard, asked Ganimed if he spoke in sober meaning. “By
my life I do,” said Ganimed; “therefore put on your best clothes, and
bid the duke and your friends to your wedding; for, if you desire to be
married to-morrow to Rosalind, she shall be here.” The next morning,
Oliver having obtained the consent of Aliena, they came into the
presence of the duke, and with them also came Orlando. They being all
assembled to celebrate this double marriage, and as yet only one of the
brides appearing, there was much of wondering and conjecture, but they
mostly thought that Ganimed was making a jest of Orlando.
The duke, hearing that it was his own daughter that was to be brought
in this strange way, asked Orlando if he believed the shepherd boy
could really do what he had promised; and while Orlando was answering
that he knew not what to think, Ganimed entered, and asked the duke, if
he brought his daughter, whether he would consent to her marriage with
Orlando. “That I would,” said the duke, “If I had kingdoms to give with
her.” Ganimed then said to Orlando, “And you say you will marry her if
I bring her here.” “That I would,” said Orlando, “if I were king of
many kingdoms.” Ganimed and Aliena then went out together, and Ganimed,
throwing off his male attire, and being once more dressed in woman’s
apparel, quickly became Rosalind, without the power of magic; and
Aliena, changing her country garb for her own rich clothes, was with as
little trouble transformed into the lady Celia.
While they were gone, the duke said to Orlando, that he thought the
shepherd Ganimed, very like his daughter Rosalind; and Orlando said, he
also had observed the resemblance. They had no time to wonder how all
this would end, for Rosalind and Celia in their own clothes entered;
and no longer pretending that it was by the power of magic that she
came there, Rosalind threw herself on her knees before her father, and
begged his blessing. It seemed so wonderful to all present that she
should so suddenly appear that it might well have passed for magic; but
Rosalind would no longer trifle with her father, and told him the story
of her banishment, and of her dwelling in the forest as a shepherd boy,
her cousin Celia passing as her sister.
The duke ratified the consent he had already given to the marriage;
and Orlando and Rosalind, Oliver and Celia, were married at the same
time. And though their wedding could not be celebrated in this wild
forest with any of the parade or splendor usual on such occasions, yet
a happier wedding-day was never passed; and while they were eating
their venison under the cool shade of the pleasant trees, as if nothing
should be wanting to complete the felicity of this good duke and the
true lovers, an unexpected messenger arrived to tell the duke the
joyful news, that his dukedom was restored to him.
The usurper, enraged at the flight of his daughter Celia, and hearing
every day that men of great worth resorted to the forest of Arden to
join the lawful duke in his exile, much envying that his brother should
be so highly respected in his adversity, put himself at the head of a
large force, and advanced toward the forest, intending to seize his
brother, and put him, with all his faithful followers, to the sword;
but, by a wonderful interposition of Providence, this bad brother was
converted from his evil intention; for just as he entered the skirts
of the wild forest, he was met by an old religious man, a hermit, with
whom he had much talk, and who in the end completely turned his heart
from his wicked design. Thenceforward he became a true penitent, and
resolved, (relinquishing his unjust dominion,) to spend the remainder
of his days in a religious house. The first act of this newly-conceived
penitence was to send a messenger to his brother (as has been related),
to offer to restore to him his dukedom, which he had usurped so long,
and with it the lands and revenues of his friends, the faithful
followers of his adversity.
This joyful news, as unexpected as it was welcome, came opportunely to
heighten the festivity and rejoicings at the wedding of the princesses.
Celia complimented her cousin on this good fortune which had happened
to the duke, Rosalind’s father, and wished her joy very sincerely,
though she herself was no longer heir to the dukedom, but by this
restoration which her father had made, Rosalind was now the heir; so
completely was the love of these two cousins unmixed with anything of
jealousy or envy.
The duke had now an opportunity of rewarding those true friends who had
stayed with him in his banishment; and these worthy followers, though
they had patiently shared his adverse fortune, were very well pleased
to return in peace and prosperity to the palace of their lawful duke.