where the good friar, and Leonato and his niece, were already assembled,
to celebrate a second nuptial; and Leonato presented to Claudio his
promised bride; and she wore a mask, that Claudio might not discover her
face. And Claudio said to the lady in the mask, "Give me your hand,
before this holy friar; I am your husband, if you will marry me." "And
when I lived I was your other wife," said this unknown lady; and, taking
off her mask, she proved to be no niece (as was pretended), but
Leonato's very daughter, the Lady Hero herself. We may be sure that this
proved a most agreeable surprise to Claudio, who thought her dead, so
that he could scarcely for joy believe his eyes; and the prince, who was
equally amazed at what he saw, exclaimed, "Is not this Hero, Hero that
was dead?" Leonato replied, "She died, my lord, but while her slander
lived." The friar promised them an explanation of this seeming miracle,
after the ceremony was ended; and was proceeding to marry them, when he
was interrupted by Benedick, who desired to be married at the same time
to Beatrice. Beatrice making some demur to this match, and Benedick
challenging her with her love for him, which he had learned from Hero, a
pleasant explanation took place; and they found they had both been
tricked into a belief of love, which had never existed, and had become
lovers in truth by the power of a false jest: but the affection, which
a merry invention had cheated them into, was grown too powerful to be
shaken by a serious explanation; and since Benedick proposed to marry,
he was resolved to think nothing to the purpose that the world could say
against it; and he merrily kept up the jest, and swore to Beatrice, that
he took her but for pity, and because he heard she was dying of love for
him; and Beatrice protested, that she yielded but upon great persuasion,
and partly to save his life, for she heard he was in a consumption. So
these two mad wits were reconciled, and made a match of it, after
Claudio and Hero were married; and to complete the history, Don John,
the contriver of the villany, was taken in his flight, and brought back
to Messina; and a brave punishment it was to this gloomy, discontented
man, to see the joy and feastings which, by the disappointment of his
plots, took place in the palace in Messina.
[Illustration]
[Illustration]
AS YOU LIKE IT
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 land 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 splendour 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 counsellors;
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 howsoever 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 a
useful moral from everything that he saw; and by the help of this
moralising 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, which is only practised now by country clowns,
was a favourite 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 been long practised 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
concluded 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 that 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 most for him. The friendless state
which 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
this 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 Rowland de Boys, the father of Orlando, had been dead some years;
but when he was living, he had been a true subject and 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 was changed into displeasure, and he left the place in very ill
humour. Hating to hear the very name of any of his brother's friends,
and yet still admiring the valour 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 favourite 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 from 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 cannot 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 favour,
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 Ganymede, and Celia chose the name of
Aliena.
[Illustration: GANYMEDE ASSUMED THE FORWARD MANNERS OFTEN SEEN IN YOUTHS
WHEN THEY ARE BETWEEN BOYS AND MEN]
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 Ganymede 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 Ganymede, 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, Ganymede, 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 in his heart to
disgrace his man's apparel, and cry like a woman; and Aliena declared
she could go no farther; and then again Ganymede 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 perished for want of food; but providentially, as they
were sitting on the grass, almost dying with fatigue and hopeless of any
relief, a countryman chanced to pass that way, and Ganymede once more
tried to speak with a manly boldness, saying, "Shepherd, if love or gold
can 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 Ganymede 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 Ganymede thought that Orlando was many miles distant,
even so many weary miles as they had travelled, 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 at home 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 into
these passionate exclamations: "O my 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 is 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 travelled 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 Ganymede 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, "Cheerly, 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 their 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 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 Ganymede and Aliena
came there, and (as has been before related) bought the shepherd's
cottage.
Ganymede 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 Ganymede was the fair Princess Rosalind,
who, by her noble condescension and favour, 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 Ganymede to his beloved
Rosalind, but that he had none of the dignified deportment of that noble
lady; for Ganymede assumed the forward manners often seen in youths when
they are between boys and men, and with much archness and humour 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 on 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."