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fair nymph, that in despising love you be not overreached with love, and, in shaking off all, shape yourself to your own shadow, and so with Narcissus prove passionate and yet unpitied. Oft have I heard, and sometime have I seen,

high disdain turned to hot desires. Because thou art beautiful be not so coy: as there is nothing more fair, so there is nothing more fading as momentary as the shadows which grow from a cloudy sun. Such, my fair shep

herdess, as disdain in youth, desire in age, and then they are hated in the winter that might have been loved in the prime. A wrinkled maid is like to a parched rose, that is cast up in coffers to please the smell, not worn in the hand to content the eye. There is no folly in love to --had I wist? and therefore be ruled by me, love while thou art young, lest thou be disdained when thou art old. Beauty nor time cannot be recalled, and if thou love, like of Montanus; for, if his desires are many, so his deserts are great.'

"Phebe all this while gazed on the perfection of Ganimede, as deeply enamoured of his perfection as Montanus inveigled with hers: for her eye made survey of his excellent feature, which she found so rare, that she thought the ghost of Adonis had leaped from Elysium in the shape of a swain."

Compare this with the fifth scene of the third act of As You Like It:'

"Why, what means this? Why do you look

on me?

I see no more in you, than in the ordinary Of nature's sale-work:-Od's my little life! I think, she means to tangle my eyes too:No, 'faith, proud mistress, hope not after it; "T is not your inky brows, your black silk hair,

Your bugle eyeballs, nor your cheek of cream, That can entame my spirits to your worship.You foolish shepherd, wherefore do you follow her?

Like foggy south, puffing with wind and rain? You are a thousand times a properer man, Than she a woman: "T is such fools as you That make the world full of ill-favoured children:

"T is not her glass, but you, that flatters her; And out of you she sees herself more proper, Than any of her lineaments can show her;

But, mistress, know yourself; down on your knees,

And thank heaven, fasting, for a good man's love."

It is unnecessary for us to pursue this parallel farther. Shakspere follows Lodge, with scarcely a deviation, in the conduct of his story. We have the same incidents of the elder brother's exile,-his rescue from a savage beast by the courage of the brother he had

injured, and his passion for the banished daughter of the usurping king. We have, of course, the same discovery of Rosalind to her father, and the same happy marriage of the princesses with their lovers, as well as that of the coy shepherdess with her shepherd. The catastrophe, however, is different. The usurping king of Lodge comes out with a mighty army to fight his rebellious peers,— when the sojourners in the forest join the battle, the usurper is slain, and the rightful king restored. Shakspere manages the matter after a milder fashion:

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"Duke Frederick, hearing how that every day Men of great worth resorted to this forest, Address'd a mighty power; which were on

foot,

In his own conduct, purposely to take
His brother here, and put him to the sword:
And to the skirts of this wild wood he came;
Where, meeting with an old religious man,
After some question with him, was converted
Both from his enterprise, and from the world: '
His crown bequeathing to his banish'd brother, !
And all their lands restored to them again
That were with him exiled."

Dr. Johnson does not entirely disapprove of
this arrangement; but he thinks that Shak-
spere lost a fit occasion for a serious discourse:
'By hastening to the end of this work,
Shakspere suppressed the dialogue between
the usurper and the hermit, and lost an¦
opportunity of exhibiting a moral lesson in
which he might have found matter worthy
of his highest powers." Shakspere, we venture
to imagine, hastened to the end of his work,
as his work was naturally approaching its
conclusion. His philosophy, according to
his usual practice, accompanies his action;
and he does not reserve his moral till the
end. To him it can never be objected,

"What tedious homily have you wearied your parishioners withal, and never cried, Have patience, good people!" His "moral lesson" is to be collected out of his incidents and his characters. Perhaps there is no play more full of real moral lessons than 'As You Like It.' What in Lodge was a pastoral replete with quaintness, and antithesis, and pedantry, and striving after effect, becomes in Shakspere an imaginative drama, in which the real is blended with the poetical in such intimate union, that the highest poetry appears to be as essentially natural as the most familiar gossip; and the loftiest philosophy is interwoven with the occurrences of every-day life, so as to teach us that there is a philosophical aspect of the commonest things. It is this spirit which informs his forest of Arden with such life, and truth, and beauty, as belongs to no other representation of pastoral scenes; which takes us into the depths of solitude, and shows us how the feelings of social life alone can give us "tongues in trees, books in the running brooks,

peculiar attraction of 'As You Like It' lies, perhaps, in the circumstance that "in no other play do we find the bright imagination and fascinating grace of Shakspeare's youth so mingled with the thoughtfulness of his maturer age." This is the character which Mr. Hallam gives of this comedy, and it appears to us a very just one*. But in another place Mr. Hallam says, "There seems to have been a period of Shakspeare's life when his heart was ill at ease and ill content with the world or his own conscience. The memory of hours misspent, the pang of affection misplaced or unrequited, the experience of man's worser nature, which intercourse with ill-chosen associates, by chance or circumstances, peculiarly teaches;-these, as they sank down into the depths of his great mind, seem not only to have inspired into it the conception of 'Lear' and 'Timon,' but that of one primary character, the censurer of mankind. This type is first seen in the philosophic melancholy of Jaques, gazing with an undiminished serenity, and with a gaiety of fancy though not of manners, on the follies of the world. It assumes a graver cast in the exiled Duke of the same play." Mr. Hallam then notices the like type in 'Measure for Measure,' and the altered 'Hamlet,' as well as in Lear' and 'Timon;' and adds,

Sermons in stones, and good in everything;" which builds a throne for intellect "under the greenwood tree," and there, by characteristic satire, gently indicates to us the vanity of the things that bind us to the world; whilst it teaches us that life has its happiness" In the later plays of Shakspeare, especially in the cultivation of the affections,-in content and independence of spirit. It was by a process such as this that the novel of Lodge was changed into the comedy of Shakspere. The amalgamation of Jaques and Touchstone with Orlando and Rosalind is one of the

most wonderful efforts of originality in the whole compass of poetical creation.

Of all Shakspere's comedies we are inclined to think that 'As You Like It' is the most read. It possesses not the deep tragic interest of "The Merchant of Venice,' nor the brilliant wit and diverting humour of 'Much Ado about Nothing,' nor the prodigal luxuriance of fancy which belongs to 'A Midsummer Night's Dream,' nor the wild legendary romance which imparts its charm to 'A Winter's Tale,' nor the grandeur of the poetical creation of 'The Tempest.' The

in Macbeth' and 'The Tempest,' much of
moral speculation will be found, but he has
never returned to this type of character in
Without entering into
the personages."+
a general examination of Mr. Hallam's theory,
which evidently includes a very wide range
of discussion, we must venture to think that
the type of character first seen in Jaques,
and presenting a graver cast in the exiled
Duke, is so modified by the whole conduct of
the action of this comedy, by its opposite
characterisation, and by its prevailing tone
of reflection, that it offers not the slightest
evidence of having been produced at a period
of the poet's life "when his heart was ill at
ease and ill content with the world or his
own conscience." The charm which this
play appears to us to possess in a most

*Literature of Europe,' vol. ii. p. 397.
↑ Ib., vol. iii. p. 568.

remarkable degree, even when compared
with other works of Shakspere, is that, while
we behold "the philosophic eye, turned
inward on the mysteries of human nature"-
(we use Mr. Hallam's own forcible expression)
-we also see the serene brow and the playful
smile, which tell us that "the philosophic
eye" belongs to one who, however above us,
is still akin to us-who tolerates our follies,
who compassionates even our faults, who
mingles in our gaiety, who rejoices in our
happiness; who leads us to scenes of sur-
passing loveliness, where we may forget the
painful lessons of the world, and introduces
us to characters whose generosity, and faith-
fulness, and affection, and simplicity may
obliterate the sorrows of our "experience of
man's worser nature." It is not in Jaques
alone, but in the entire dramatic group, that

we must seek the tone of the poet's mind,

and to that have our own minds attuned.

Invest me in my motley; give me leave
To speak my mind, and I will through and
through

Cleanse the foul body of the infected world,
If they will patiently receive my medicine.
Duke S. Fie on thee! I can tell what thon
wouldst do.

Jaq. What, for a counter, would I do but
good?

Duke S. Most mischievous foul sin, in

chiding sin:

For thou thyself hast been a libertine,
As sensual as the brutish sting itself;
And all the embossed sores, and headed evils,
That thou with licence of free foot hast
caught,

Wouldst thou disgorge into the general
world."

The German critic Ulrici, speaking of the them "the two fools." We are not about to characters of Jaques and Touchstone, calls pursue his argument; but we accept his classification, which is, indeed, startling. What! Is he a fool that moralises the spectacle of

Mr. Campbell, speaking of the characters of
this comedy, says, "Our hearts are so stricken
by these benevolent beings that we easily
forgive the other more culpable but at last
repentant characters."* This is not the
effect which could have been produced if the
dark shades of a painful commerce with the
world had crossed that "sunshine of the
breast" which lights up the "inaccessible"
thickets, and sparkles amidst the "melan-
choly boughs" of the forest of Arden. Jaques
may be Shakspere's first type "of the
censurer of mankind;" but Jaques is precisely
the reverse of the character which the poet
would have chosen, had he intended the
censure to have more than a dramatic force whose
-to be universally true and not individually
characteristic. Jaques is strikingly a cha-
racter of inconsistency; one, as Ulrici ex-
presses it," of witty sentimentality and merry
sadness." Nothing can be more beautiful
than the delineation; but it appears to us to
be anything but the result of the poet's Is he a fool that tells us,

"a poor sequester'd stag, That from the hunters' aim had ta'en a hurt," and gives us, thereupon, "a thousand similes,” with which

most invectively he pierceth through The body of the country, city, court"? Is he a fool that "can suck melancholy out of a song as a weazel sucks eggs"? Is he a fool that

self-consciousness. We are induced to believe that Shakspere's unbounded charity made him feel that there was a chance of Jaques being held somewhat too much of an authority, and that he in consequence made the Duke reprove him when he says,

*Life prefixed to Moxon's edition, p. xlv.

"met a fool i' the forest;"

"lungs began to crow like chanticleer, That fools should be so deep-contemplative"?

and who himself aspires to be a fool :— "I am ambitious for a motley cout"!

"All the world's a stage,

And all the men and women merely players"? Is he a fool who has gained his "experience,” and whom the "sundry contemplation" of his travels wraps in a I most humorous sadness"? Is he a fool who commends him

whom the critic calls his brother fool as "good at anything, and yet a fool"? Lastly, is he a fool who rejects honour and advance ment, and deserts the exiled Duke when he is restored to his state, because

"out of these convertites

There is much matter to be heard and

learn'd"?

Assuredly, upon the first blush of the question, we must say that the German critic is wrong.

And yet, what is a fool, according to the Shaksperean definition? The fool is one

"Who laid him down and bask'd him in the
sun,

And rail'd on lady Fortune in good terms,
In good set terms, and yet a motley fool."

The fool is one that doth "moral on the
time;" one that hath been a courtier;

"and in his brain,Which is as dry as the remainder biscuit After a voyage, he hath strange places

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"Let me see wherein

good pancakes" is not pointless. Perhaps it is a fool's bolt, and soon shot; yet it hits. But the fool is not without his affections. The friendship which Celia had for Rosalind is reciprocated by the friendship which the fool has for Celia :

66

Ros. But, cousin, what if we essay'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."

He is fled to the forest with the two ladies, their comfort, their protector:

"My lord, the roynish clown, at whom so oft Your grace was wont to laugh, is also missing." They are in Arden; and then the fool becomes a philosopher :—

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

And then he goes on to laugh at romance in a land of romance, and tells us of "Jane Smile."

But next we hear of him growing "deepcontemplative" over his dial:

"Thus we may see,' quoth he, 'how the world
wags:

"T is but an hour ago since it was nine;
And after one hour more 't will be eleven;
And so, from hour to hour, we ripe and ripe,
And then, from hour to hour, we rot and rot,
And thereby hangs a tale.'"

The fool's manners are changing. He did
not talk thus in the court. He is quickly

My tongue hath wrong'd him: if it do him growing a philosopher. Hazlitt truly tells right,

Then he hath wrong'd himself; if he be free,
Why then, my taxing like a wild goose flies,
Unclaim'd of any man."

And thus Jaques describes himself.

us that the following dialogue is better than all Zimmermann on Solitude,' where only half the question is disposed of:

"Cor. And how like you this shepherd's life, master Touchstone?

Touch. Truly, shepherd, in respect of itself it is a good life; but in respect that it is a shepherd's life it is naught. In respect that it is solitary I like it very well; but in respect that it is private it is a very vile life. Now, in respect it is in the fields it pleaseth me well; but in

Now let us see what is the character of the companion fool, Touchstone. He introduces himself to us with a bit of fool's logic-that is, a comment upon human actions, derived from premises that are either above, or below, ---which you please,—the ordinary argument-respect it is not in the court it is tedious. As it ation of the world. His story of " a certain knight that swore by his honour they were

is a spare life, look you, it fits my humour well; but as there is no more plenty in it, it goes

much against my stomach. Hast any philosophy | is "a broken bankrupt," the "careless herd" in thee, shepherd ?"

The fool has lived apart from human sympathies. He has been a thing to make idle people laugh; to live in himself alone; to be in the world and not of the world; to be licensed and despised; to have no responsibilities. The fool goes out of the social state in which he has moved, and he becomes a human being. His affections are called forth in a natural condition of society; he is restored to his fellow-creatures, a man, and not a fool. We do not think that Shakspere meant the courtship of Touchstone and Audrey to be a travestic of the romantic passion of Orlando and Rosalind. It appears to us that it is anything but farce or irony when the fool and the shepherdess thus commune :

"Touch. Truly, I would the gods had made thee poetical.

Aud. I do not know what poetical is: Is it honest in deed, and word? Is it a true thing?"

And there is anything but folly when Touchstone resolves

"Be it as it may be, I will marry thee."

-

are "fat and greasy citizens." This is not
real philosophy; it is false sentimentality.
Jaques-refusing to adopt the tone of his
companions, who have embraced the free life
of the woods, its freshness, its privacy-has
put himself into the condition of the fool,
who belongs to the world only because he is
a mocker of the world. When his friends
sing,

"Who doth ambition shun,
And loves to live i' the sun,
Seeking the food he eats,

And pleased with what he gets,"

Jaques answers,

"If it do come to pass

That any man turn ass,
Leaving his wealth and ease,

A stubborn will to please," &c.

This is the answer of one for whom "motley's the only wear."

And yet how beautifully all this harmonises with the pastoral character of this delightful comedy! The professional fool gradually slides into a real man, from the power of sympathy, which is strong in him, and which is called forth by the absence of a just occasion for his professional unrealities. He is no longer a chorus. The clever but self-sufficient courtier, half in jest, half in earnest, becomes a mocker and a pretended misanthrope. He is passed into the chorus of the real action. In the mean while the main business of the comedy goes forward; and we live amongst all the natural and kindly impulses of true thoughts and feelings, mingled with weaknesses that are a part of this sincerity. But most certainly the spirit which breathes throughout is not one of censure, or sarcasm, or irony. It is a most loving, and sincere, and tolerant spiritradiant with poetry, and therefore with truth. We desire nothing better to show that Shakspere did not speak through Jaques than these words:

A touch of the court-of his old vocation of saying without accountableness-lingers with him, when, rejoicing in that most original hedge priest, who says, "Ne'er a fantastical knave of them all shall flout me out of my calling" (the Fleet prison priest of a century ago) — he hugs himself with the belief that "I were better to be married of him than of another;"-but he is after all the true lover, when he rejects the "most vile Mar-text," and in the honesty of his heart exclaims, "To-morrow is the joyful day, Audrey; to-morrow will we be married." And thus, it appears to us, is Ulrici justified in denominating Jaques and Touchstone "the two fools." It was the characteristic of the Shaksperean fool to hang loose upon the society in which he was cherished; to affect no concern in its anxieties, no sympathy in its pleasures; to be passionless and sarcastic. Jaques, a banished courtier, refuses to seek companionship in the solitary life; he rejects its freedom :-he finds in it only a distorted Orlando. I will chide no breather in the world mirror of the social life. The wounded stag | but myself; against whom I know most faults."

"Jaques. Will you sit down with me? and we two will rail against our mistress the world, and all our misery.

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