User:Gproehl/Temp/AYLI.doc

As You Like It

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 [1.1] 

Enter Orlando and Adam.

ORLANDO

As I remember, Adam, it was upon this fashion

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bequeathed me by will but poor a thousand

crowns, and, as thou say'st, charged my brother,

on his blessing, to breed me well; and

there begins my sadness. My brother Jaques he keeps

at school, and report speaks goldenly of his profit.

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For my part, he keeps me rustically at home, or, to speak

more properly, stays me here at home unkept; for call

you that "keeping" for a gentleman of my birth that differs

not from the stalling of an ox? His horses are bred

better, for, besides that they are fair with their feeding,

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they are taught their manège, and to that end riders

dearly hired; but I, his brother, gain nothing under

him but growth, for the which his animals on his

dunghills are as much bound to him as I. Besides this nothing

that he so plentifully gives me, the something that

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nature gave me his countenance seems to take from

me. He lets me feed with his hinds, bars me the

place of a brother, and as much as in him lies, mines my

gentility with my education. This is it, Adam, that

grieves me; and the spirit of my father, which I think

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is within me, begins to mutiny against this servitude.

I will no longer endure it, though yet I know no wise

remedy how to avoid it.

Enter Oliver.

ADAM

Yonder comes my master, your brother.

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ORLANDO

Go apart, Adam, and thou shalt hear how

he will shake me up.

 [Adam stands aside.] 

OLIVER

Now, sir, what make you here?

ORLANDO

Nothing. I am not taught to make anything.

OLIVER

What mar you then, sir?

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ORLANDO

Marry, sir, I am helping you to mar that which

God made, a poor unworthy brother of yours, with

idleness.

OLIVER

Marry, sir, be better employed, and be naught awhile.

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ORLANDO

Shall I keep your hogs, and eat husks with

them? What prodigal portion have I spent, that I should

come to such penury?

OLIVER

Know you where you are, sir?

ORLANDO

Oh, sir, very well: here in your orchard.

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OLIVER

Know you before whom, sir?

ORLANDO

Ay, better than him I am before knows me. I

know you are my eldest brother, and in the gentle condition

of blood you should so know me. The courtesy of nations

allows you my better in that you are the first

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born; but the same tradition takes not away my blood,

were there twenty brothers betwixt us. I have as much

of my father in me as you, albeit I confess your coming

before me is nearer to his reverence.

OLIVER

What, boy!

 [He strikes Orlando.] 

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ORLANDO

Come, come, elder brother, you are too young in this.

 [He seizes Oliver by the throat.] 

OLIVER

Wilt thou lay hands on me, villain?

ORLANDO

I am no villain. I am the youngest son of

Sir Rowland de Boys. He was my father, and he is thrice a villain

that says such a father begot villains. Wert thou

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not my brother, I would not take this hand from thy

throat till this other had pulled out thy tongue for saying

so. Thou hast railed on thyself.

ADAM

 [Coming forward]  Sweet masters, be patient! For your father's remembrance

, be at accord.

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OLIVER

 [To Orlando]  Let me go, I say.

ORLANDO

I will not, till I please. You shall hear me. My

father charged you in his will to give me good education.

You have trained me like a peasant, obscuring and

hiding from me all gentlemanlike qualities. The spirit

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of my father grows strong in me, and I will no longer

endure it; therefore allow me such exercises as may become

a gentleman, or give me the poor allottery my

father left me by testament. With that I will go buy my

fortunes.

 [He releases Oliver.] 

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OLIVER

And what wilt thou do? Beg, when that is spent?

Well, sir, get you in. I will not long be troubled with

you; you shall have some part of your will. I pray you

leave me.

ORLANDO

I will no further offend you than becomes me

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for my good.

OLIVER

 [To Adam]  Get you with him, you old dog.

ADAM

Is "old dog" my reward? Most true, I have

lost my teeth in your service. God be with my old master!

He would not have spoke such a word.

Exeunt Orlando and Adam.

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OLIVER

Is it even so? Begin you to grow upon me? I will

physic your rankness, and yet give no thousand

crowns neither.  [Calling] Holla, Dennis!

Enter Dennis.

DENNIS

Calls Your Worship?

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OLIVER

Was not Charles, the Duke's wrestler, here to

speak with me?

DENNIS

So please you, he is here at the door and importunes

access to you.

OLIVER

Call him in.

 [Exit Dennis.]  'Twill be a good way; and tomorrow

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the wrestling is.

Enter Charles.

CHARLES

Good morrow to Your Worship.

OLIVER

Good Monsieur Charles, what's the new news

at the new court?

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CHARLES

There's no news at the court, sir, but the

old news: that is, the old Duke is banished by his younger

brother the new Duke, and three or four loving

lords have put themselves into voluntary exile with

him, whose lands and revenues enrich the new Duke;

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therefore he gives them good leave to wander.

OLIVER

Can you tell if Rosalind, the Duke's daughter, be

banished with her father?

CHARLES

Oh, no; for the Duke's daughter, her cousin, so

loves her, being ever from their cradles bred together,

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that she would have followed her exile or have died to

stay behind her. She is at the court, and no less beloved

of her uncle than his own daughter; and never two ladies

loved as they do.

OLIVER

Where will the old Duke live?

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CHARLES

They say he is already in the Forest of Arden,

and a many merry men with him; and there they live

like the old Robin Hood of England. They say many young

gentlemen flock to him every day, and fleet the time

carelessly, as they did in the golden world.

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OLIVER

What, you wrestle tomorrow before the new

Duke?

CHARLES

Marry, do I, sir; and I came to acquaint you

with a matter. I am given, sir, secretly to understand that

your younger brother, Orlando, hath a disposition to come

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in disguised against me to try a fall. Tomorrow, sir,

I wrestle for my credit; and he that escapes me without

some broken limb shall acquit him well. Your brother

is but young and tender; and, for your love, I would be

loath to foil him, as I must, for my own honor, if he

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come in. Therefore, out of my love to you, I came hither

to acquaint you withal, that either you might stay him

from his intendment, or brook such disgrace well as he

shall run into, in that it is a thing of his own search

and altogether against my will.

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OLIVER

Charles, I thank thee for thy love to me, which

thou shalt find I will most kindly requite. I had myself

notice of my brother's purpose herein, and have by

underhand means labored to dissuade him from it;

but he is resolute. I'll tell thee, Charles, it is the stubbornest

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young fellow of France, full of ambition, an envious emulator

of every man's good parts, a secret and villainous

contriver against me his natural brother. Therefore use

thy discretion. I had as lief thou didst break his neck

as his finger. And thou wert best look to't; for if thou

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dost him any slight disgrace, or if he do not mightily

grace himself on thee, he will practice against thee by

poison, entrap thee by some treacherous device, and never

leave thee till he hath ta'en thy life by some indirect

means or other; for, I assure thee, and almost with

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tears I speak it, there is not one so young and so villainous

this day living. I speak but brotherly of him,

but should I anatomize him to thee as he is, I must

blush and weep, and thou must look pale and

wonder.

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CHARLES

I am heartily glad I came hither to you. If he

come tomorrow I'll give him his payment. If ever he

go alone again, I'll never wrestle for prize more. And

so, God keep Your Worship!

Exit.

OLIVER

Farewell, good Charles. Now will I stir this gamester.

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I hope I shall see an end of him; for my soul, yet

I know not why, hates nothing more than he. Yet he's

gentle, never schooled and yet learned, full of noble

device, of all sorts enchantingly beloved, and indeed

so much in the heart of the world, and especially of my

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own people, who best know him, that I am altogether

misprized. But it shall not be so long; this wrestler shall

clear all. Nothing remains but that I kindle the boy

thither, which now I'll go about.

Exit.

 [1.2] 

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Enter Rosalind and Celia.

CELIA

I pray thee, Rosalind, sweet my coz, be merry.

ROSALIND

Dear Celia, I show more mirth than I am mistress of;

and would you yet I were merrier? Unless you

could teach me to forget a banished father, you must not

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learn me how to remember any extraordinary

pleasure.

CELIA

Herein I see thou lov'st me not with the full

weight that I love thee. If my uncle, thy banished father,

had banished thy uncle, the Duke my father, so thou

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hadst been still with me, I could have taught my love

to take thy father for mine; so wouldst thou, if the truth

of thy love to me were so righteously tempered as mine

is to thee.

ROSALIND

Well, I will forget the condition of my estate,

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to rejoice in yours.

CELIA

You know my father hath no child but I, nor

none is like to have; and, truly, when he dies thou shalt

be his heir, for what he hath taken away from thy father

perforce I will render thee again in affection. By

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mine honor, I will; and when I break that oath, let me

turn monster. Therefore, my sweet Rose, my dear Rose,

be merry.

ROSALIND

From henceforth I will, coz, and devise sports.

Let me see, what think you of falling in love?

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CELIA

Marry, I prithee, do, to make sport withal; but

love no man in good earnest, nor no further in sport neither

than with safety of a pure blush thou mayst in honor

come off again.

ROSALIND

What shall be our sport, then?

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CELIA

Let us sit and mock the good housewife Fortune

from her wheel, that her gifts may henceforth be

bestowed equally.

ROSALIND

I would we could do so, for her benefits are

mightily misplaced, and the bountiful blind woman

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doth most mistake in her gifts to women.

CELIA

'Tis true, for those that she makes fair she scarce

makes honest, and those that she makes honest she makes

very ill-favoredly.

ROSALIND

Nay, now thou goest from Fortune's office to Nature's:

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Fortune reigns in gifts of the world, not in the

lineaments of Nature.

'' Enter [Touchstone the] Clown. ''

CELIA

No? When Nature hath made a fair creature,

may she not by Fortune fall into the fire? Though Nature

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hath given us wit to flout at Fortune, hath not Fortune

sent in this fool to cut off the argument?

ROSALIND

Indeed, there is Fortune too hard for Nature, when

Fortune makes Nature's natural the cutter-off of Nature's wit.

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CELIA

Peradventure this is not Fortune's work neither,

but Nature's, who perceiveth our natural wits too dull

to reason of such goddesses, and hath sent this natural for

our whetstone; for always the dullness of the fool is

the whetstone of the wits. -- How now, wit, whither wander you?

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TOUCHSTONE

Mistress, you must come away to your father.

CELIA

Were you made the messenger?

TOUCHSTONE

No, by mine honor, but I was bid to come for you.

ROSALIND

Where learned you that oath, fool?

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TOUCHSTONE

Of a certain knight that swore by his honor

they were good pancakes, and swore by his honor the

mustard was naught. Now I'll stand to it, the pancakes

were naught and the mustard was good, and yet was

not the knight forsworn.

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CELIA

How prove you that, in the great heap of your

knowledge?

ROSALIND

Ay, marry, now unmuzzle your wisdom.

TOUCHSTONE

Stand you both forth now. Stroke your chins,

and swear by your beards that I am a knave.

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CELIA

By our beards, if we had them, thou art.

TOUCHSTONE

By my knavery, if I had it, then I were; but if

you swear by that that is not, you are not forsworn. No

more was this knight, swearing by his honor, for he never

had any; or if he had, he had sworn it away before

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ever he saw those pancakes or that mustard.

CELIA

Prithee, who is't that thou mean'st?

TOUCHSTONE

One that old Frederick, your father, loves.

CELIA

My father's love is enough to honor him. Enough,

speak no more of him; you'll be whipped for taxation one

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of these days.

TOUCHSTONE

The more pity that fools may not speak wisely

what wise men do foolishly.

CELIA

By my troth, thou sayest true; for since the little

wit that fools have was silenced, the little foolery that

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wise men have makes a great show. Here comes Monsieur

Le Beau.

Enter Le Beau.

ROSALIND

With his mouth full of news.

CELIA

Which he will put on us as pigeons feed their

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young.

ROSALIND

Then shall we be news-crammed.

CELIA

All the better; we shall be the more marketable. --

Bonjour, Monsieur Le Beau. What's the news?

LE BEAU

Fair princess,

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you have lost much good sport.

CELIA

Sport? Of what color?

LE BEAU

What color, madam? How shall I answer

you?

ROSALIND

As wit and fortune will.

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TOUCHSTONE

Or as the Destinies decrees.

CELIA

Well said. That was laid on with a trowel.

TOUCHSTONE

Nay, if I keep not my rank --

ROSALIND

Thou loosest thy old smell.

LE BEAU

You amaze me, ladies. I would have told

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you of good wrestling, which you have lost the sight of.

ROSALIND

Yet tell us the manner of the wrestling.

LE BEAU

I will tell you the beginning, and, if it please

Your Ladyships, you may see the end, for the best is yet to do,

and here, where you are, they are coming to

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perform it.

CELIA

Well, the beginning, that is dead and buried.

LE BEAU

There comes an old man and his three sons --

CELIA

I could match this beginning with an old tale.

LE BEAU

Three proper young men, of excellent growth

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and presence.

ROSALIND

With bills on their necks: "Be it known unto

all men by these presents --"

LE BEAU

The eldest of the three wrestled with Charles,

the Duke's wrestler, which Charles in a moment threw

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him and broke three of his ribs, that there is little

hope of life in him. So he served the second, and so the

third. Yonder they lie, the poor old man their father

making such pitiful dole over them that all the beholders

take his part with weeping.

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ROSALIND

Alas!

TOUCHSTONE

But what is the sport, monsieur, that the ladies

have lost?

LE BEAU

Why, this that I speak of.

TOUCHSTONE

Thus men may grow wiser every day. It is the

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first time that ever I heard breaking of ribs was sport

for ladies.

CELIA

Or I, I promise thee.

ROSALIND

But is there any else longs to see this broken music

in his sides? Is there yet another dotes upon

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rib-breaking? -- Shall we see this wrestling, cousin?

LE BEAU

You must, if you stay here, for here is the

place appointed for the wrestling, and they are ready to

perform it.

CELIA

Yonder, sure, they are coming. Let us now stay

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and see it.

'' Flourish. Enter Duke [Frederick], Lords, Orlando, Charles, ''

and Attendants

DUKE FREDERICK

Come on. Since the youth will not be entreated,

his own peril on his forwardness.

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ROSALIND

 [To Le Beau]  Is yonder the man?

LE BEAU

Even he, madam.

CELIA

Alas, he is too young; yet he looks successfully.

DUKE FREDERICK

How now, daughter and cousin?

Are you crept hither to see the wrestling?

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ROSALIND

Ay, my liege, so please you give us leave.

DUKE FREDERICK

You will take little delight in it, I can tell you,

there is such odds in the man. In pity of the challenger's

youth I would fain dissuade him, but he will not

be entreated. Speak to him, ladies; see if you can

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move him.

CELIA

Call him hither, good Monsieur Le Beau.

DUKE FREDERICK

Do so. I'll not be by.

 [Duke Frederick stands aside.] 

LE BEAU

 [To Orlando]  Monsieur the Challenger, the Princess calls

for you.

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ORLANDO

 [Approaching Rosalind and Celia]  I attend them with all respect and duty.

ROSALIND

Young man, have you challenged Charles the

wrestler?

ORLANDO

No, fair princess, he is the general challenger.

I come but in, as others do, to try with him the strength

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of my youth.

CELIA

Young gentleman, your spirits are too bold for

your years. You have seen cruel proof of this man's

strength. If you saw yourself with your eyes, or knew

yourself with your judgment, the fear of your adventure

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would counsel you to a more equal enterprise. We

pray you, for your own sake, to embrace your own safety

and give over this attempt.

ROSALIND

Do, young sir. Your reputation shall not therefore

be misprized. We will make it our suit to the Duke that

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the wrestling might not go forward.

ORLANDO

I beseech you, punish me not with your hard

thoughts, wherein I confess me much guilty to deny

so fair and excellent ladies anything. But let your

fair eyes and gentle wishes go with me to my trial,

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wherein if I be foiled, there is but one shamed that was

never gracious; if killed, but one dead that is willing to

be so. I shall do my friends no wrong, for I have none to

lament me; the world no injury, for in it I have nothing.

Only in the world I fill up a place, which may be better

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supplied when I have made it empty.

ROSALIND

The little strength that I have, I would it were

with you.

CELIA

And mine, to eke out hers.

ROSALIND

Fare you well. Pray heaven I be deceived in you!

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CELIA

Your heart's desires be with you!

CHARLES

Come, where is this young gallant that is so

desirous to lie with his mother earth?

ORLANDO

Ready, sir, but his will hath in it a more modest

working.

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DUKE FREDERICK

You shall try but one fall.

CHARLES

No, I warrant Your Grace you shall not entreat

him to a second, that have so mightily persuaded him

from a first.

ORLANDO

You mean to mock me after; you should not

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have mocked me before. But come your ways.

ROSALIND

Now, Hercules be thy speed, young man!

CELIA

I would I were invisible, to catch the strong fellow

by the leg.

'' [Orlando and Charles] wrestle. ''

ROSALIND

Oh, excellent young man!

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CELIA

If I had a thunderbolt in mine eye, I can tell who

should down.

 [Charles is thrown.] 

Shout.

DUKE FREDERICK

No more, no more.

ORLANDO

Yes, I beseech Your Grace. I am not yet

well breathed.

DUKE FREDERICK

Bear him away.  [Charles is carried out.] 

What is thy name, young man?

ORLANDO

Orlando, my liege, the youngest son of Sir Rowland

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de Boys.

DUKE FREDERICK

I would thou hadst been son to some man else.

The world esteemed thy father honorable,

But I did find him still mine enemy.

Thou shouldst have better pleased me with this deed

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Hadst thou descended from another house.

But fare thee well; thou art a gallant youth.

I would thou hadst told me of another father.

'' Exit Duke [with train, and Le Beau. Rosalind and Celia remain, standing apart from Orlando]. ''

CELIA

 [To Rosalind]  Were I my father, coz, would I do this?

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ORLANDO

 [Talking to himself]  I am more proud to be Sir Rowland's son,

His youngest son, and would not change that calling

To be adopted heir to Frederick.

ROSALIND

 [To Celia]  My father loved Sir Rowland as his soul,

And all the world was of my father's mind.

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Had I before known this young man his son,

I should have given him tears unto entreaties

Let us go thank him, and encourage him.

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My father's rough and envious disposition

Sticks me at heart. [To Orlando] Sir, you have well deserved.

If you do keep your promises in love

But justly as you have exceeded all promise,

Wear this for me, one out of suits with fortune,

That could give more, but that her hand lacks means.  [To Celia] 

Shall we go, coz?

CELIA

Ay. Fare you well, fair gentleman.

 [Rosalind and Celia start to leave.] 

415

ORLANDO

 [Aside]  Can I not say "I thank you"? My better parts

Are all thrown down, and that which here stands up

Is but a quintain, a mere lifeless block.

ROSALIND

 [To Celia]  He calls us back. My pride fell with my fortunes;

I'll ask him what he would. -- Did you call, sir?

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Sir, you have wrestled well, and overthrown

More than your enemies.

CELIA

Will you go, coz?

ROSALIND

Have with you. -- Fare you well.

'' Exit [with Celia]. ''

ORLANDO

What passion hangs these weights upon my tongue?

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I cannot speak to her, yet she urged conference.

Enter Le Beau.

O poor Orlando, thou art overthrown!

Or Charles or something weaker masters thee.

LE BEAU

Good sir, I do in friendship counsel you

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To leave this place. Albeit you have deserved

High commendation, true applause, and love,

Yet such is now the Duke's condition

That he misconsters all that you have done.

The Duke is humorous. What he is indeed

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More suits you to conceive than I to speak of.

ORLANDO

I thank you, sir. And pray you tell me this:

Which of the two was daughter of the Duke

That here was at the wrestling?

LE BEAU

Neither his daughter, if we judge by manners,

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But yet indeed the taller is his daughter.

The other is daughter to the banished Duke,

And here detained by her usurping uncle

To keep his daughter company, whose loves

Are dearer than the natural bond of sisters.

445

But I can tell you that of late this Duke

Hath ta'en displeasure 'gainst his gentle niece,

Grounded upon no other argument

But that the people praise her for her virtues

And pity her for her good father's sake;

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And, on my life, his malice 'gainst the lady

Will suddenly break forth. Sir, fare you well.

Hereafter, in a better world than this,

I shall desire more love and knowledge of you.

ORLANDO

I rest much bounden to you. Fare you well.

 [Exit Le Beau.] 

455

Thus must I from the smoke into the smother;

From tyrant Duke unto a tyrant brother.

But heavenly Rosalind!

Exit.

 [1.3] 

Enter Celia and Rosalind.

460

CELIA

Why, cousin, why, Rosalind! Cupid have mercy!

Not a word?

ROSALIND

Not one to throw at a dog.

CELIA

No, thy words are too precious to be cast away

upon curs. Throw some of them at me. Come, lame me

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with reasons.

ROSALIND

Then there were two cousins laid up, when the

one should be lamed with reasons and the other

mad without any.

CELIA

But is all this for your father?

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ROSALIND

No, some of it is for my child's father. Oh,

how full of briers is this working-day world!

CELIA

They are but burs, cousin, thrown upon thee

in holiday foolery. If we walk not in the trodden paths,

our very petticoats will catch them.

475

ROSALIND

I could shake them off my coat. These burs are

in my heart.

CELIA

Hem them away.

ROSALIND

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

CELIA

Come, come, wrestle with thy affections.

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ROSALIND

Oh, they take the part of a better wrestler than

myself.

CELIA

Oh, 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 possible, on such a sudden,

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you should fall into so strong a liking with old Sir

Rowland's youngest son?

ROSALIND

The Duke my father loved his father dearly.

CELIA

Doth it therefore ensue that you should love his

son dearly? By this kind of chase, I should hate

490

him, for my father hated his father dearly; yet I hate

not Orlando.

ROSALIND

No, faith, hate him not, for my sake.

CELIA

Why should I not? Doth he not deserve well?

'' Enter Duke [Frederick], with Lords. ''

495

ROSALIND

Let me love him for that, and do you love him

because I do. Look, here comes the Duke.

CELIA

With his eyes full of anger.

DUKE FREDERICK

 [To Rosalind]  Mistress, dispatch you with your safest haste,

Within these ten days if that thou be'st found

So near our public court as twenty miles,

Let me the knowledge of my fault 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 frantic --

510

As I do trust I am not -- then, dear uncle,

Never so much as in a thought unborn

If their purgation did consist in words,

515

They are as innocent as grace itself.

Let it suffice thee that I trust thee not.

ROSALIND

Yet your mistrust cannot make me a traitor.

Tell me whereon the likelihood depends.

DUKE FREDERICK

Thou art thy father's daughter; there's enough.

520

ROSALIND

So was I when Your Highness took his dukedom;

So was I when Your Highness banished him.

Treason is not inherited, my lord;

Or, if we did derive it from our friends,

What's that to me? My father was no traitor.

525

Then, good my liege, mistake me not so much

To think my poverty is treacherous.

CELIA

Dear sovereign, hear me speak.

DUKE FREDERICK

Ay, Celia, we stayed her for your sake,

Else had she with her father ranged along.

530

CELIA

I did not then entreat to have her stay;

It was your pleasure, and 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,

535

Rose at an instant, learned, played, eat together,

And wheresoe'er we went, like Juno's swans

Still we went coupled and inseparable.

DUKE FREDERICK

She is too subtle for thee; and her smoothness,

Her very silence and her patience,

540

Speak to the people, and they pity her.

Thou 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 and irrevocable is my doom

545

Which I have passed upon her; she is banished.

CELIA

Pronounce that sentence, then, on me, my liege!

I cannot live out of her company.

DUKE FREDERICK

You are a fool. -- You, niece, provide yourself.

If you outstay the time, upon mine honor,

550

And in the greatness of my word, you die.

'' Exit Duke, &c. [with Lords]. ''

CELIA

O my poor Rosalind, whither wilt thou go?

Wilt thou change fathers? I will give thee mine.

I charge thee, be not thou more grieved than I am.

Prithee be cheerful. Know'st thou not the Duke

560

CELIA

No? "Hath not"? Rosalind lacks, then, the love

Which teacheth thee that thou and I am one.

Shall we be sundered? Shall we part, sweet girl?

No; let my father seek another heir.

Therefore devise with me how we may fly,

565

Whither 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,

Say what thou canst, I'll go along with thee.

570

ROSALIND

Why, whither shall we go?

CELIA

To seek my uncle in the Forest of Arden.

ROSALIND

Alas, what danger will it be to us,

Maids as we are, to travel forth so far!

Beauty provoketh thieves sooner than gold.

575

CELIA

I'll put myself in poor and mean attire,

And with a kind of umber smirch my face;

The like do you. So shall we pass along,

580

Because that I am more than common tall,

That I did suit me all points like a man?

A gallant curtal-ax upon my thigh,

A boar-spear in my hand, and -- in my heart

Lie there what hidden woman's fear there will --

585

We'll have a swashing and a martial outside,

As many other mannish cowards have

That do outface it with their semblances.

CELIA

What shall I call thee when thou art a man?

ROSALIND

I'll have no worse a name than Jove's own page,

590

And therefore look you call me Ganymede.

But what will you be called?

CELIA

Something that hath a reference to my state:

No longer Celia, but Aliena.

ROSALIND

But, cousin, what if we assayed to steal

595

The clownish fool out of your father's court?

Would he not be a comfort to our travel?

CELIA

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,

600

Devise the fittest time and safest way

To hide us from pursuit that will be made

After my flight. Now go we in content

To liberty, and not to banishment.

Exeunt.

 [2.1] 

605

Enter Duke Senior, Amiens, and two or three Lords,

like foresters.

DUKE SENIOR

Now, my co-mates and brothers in exile,

Hath not old custom made this life more sweet

Than that of painted pomp? Are not these woods

610

More free from peril than the envious court?

Here feel we not the penalty of Adam,

The seasons' difference, as the icy fang

And churlish chiding of the winter's wind,

Which when it bites and blows upon my body

615

Even till I shrink with cold, I smile and say

"This is no flattery; these are counselors

That feelingly persuade me what I am."

Sweet are the uses of adversity,

Which, like the toad, ugly and venomous,

620

Wears yet a precious jewel in his head;

And this our life, exempt from public haunt,

Finds tongues in trees, books in the running brooks,

Sermons in stones, and good in everything.

AMIENS

I would not change it. Happy is Your Grace,

625

That can translate the stubbornness of fortune

Into so quiet and so sweet a style.

DUKE SENIOR

Come, shall we go and kill us venison?

And yet it irks me the poor dappled fools,

Being native burghers of this desert city,

630

Should in their own confines with forkèd heads

The melancholy Jaques grieves at that,

And in that kind swears you do more usurp

635

Than doth your brother that hath banished you.

Today 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,

640

To the which place a poor sequestered stag

That from the hunter's aim had ta'en a hurt

Did come to languish. And indeed, my lord,

The wretched animal heaved forth such groans

That their discharge did stretch his leathern coat

645

Almost to bursting, and the big round tears

Coursed one another down his innocent nose

In piteous chase. And thus the hairy fool,

Much markèd of the melancholy Jaques,

Stood on th'extremest verge of the swift brook,

Did he not moralize this spectacle?

FIRST LORD

Oh, yes, into a thousand similes.

First, for his weeping into the needless stream:

655

"Poor deer," quoth he, "thou mak'st a testament

As worldlings do, giving thy sum of more

To that which had too much." Then, being there alone,

Left and abandoned of his velvet friends:

"'Tis right," quoth he, "thus misery doth part

660

The flux of company." Anon, a careless herd,

Full of the pasture, jumps along by him

And never stays to greet him. "Ay," quoth Jaques,

"Sweep on, you fat and greasy citizens;

'Tis just the fashion. Wherefore do you look

665

Upon that poor and broken bankrupt there?"

Thus most invectively he pierceth through

The body of the country, city, court,

Yea, and of this our life, swearing that we

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

670

To fright the animals and to kill them up

In their assigned and native dwelling place.

DUKE SENIOR

And did you leave him in this contemplation?

SECOND LORD

We did, my lord, weeping and commenting

I love to cope him in these sullen fits,

For then he's full of matter.

FIRST LORD

I'll bring you to him straight.

Exeunt.

 [2.2] 

680

'' Enter Duke [Frederick], with Lords. ''

DUKE FREDERICK

Can it be possible that no man saw them?

It cannot be. Some villains of my court

Are of consent and sufferance in this.

FIRST LORD

I cannot hear of any that did see her.

685

The ladies, her attendants of her chamber,

Saw her abed, and in the morning early

They found the bed untreasured of their mistress.

SECOND LORD

My lord, the roinish clown, at whom so oft

Your Grace was wont to laugh, is also missing.

690

Hisperia, 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,

695

And she believes, wherever they are gone,

That youth is surely in their company.

DUKE FREDERICK

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,

700

And let not search and inquisition quail

To bring again these foolish runaways.

Exeunt.

 [2.3] 

'' Enter Orlando and Adam,[ meeting]. ''

ORLANDO

Who's there?

705

ADAM

What, my young master? Oh, my gentle master!

Oh, my sweet master, oh, you memory

Of old Sir Rowland! Why, what make you here?

Why are you virtuous? Why do people love you?

And wherefore are you gentle, strong, and valiant?

710

Why would you be so fond to overcome

The bonny prizer of the humorous Duke?

Your praise is come too swiftly home before you.

Know you not, master, to some kind of men

Their graces serve them but as enemies?

715

No more do yours. Your virtues, gentle master,

Are sanctified and holy traitors to you.

Oh, what a world is this, when what is comely

Envenoms him that bears it!

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

725

Of him I was about to call his father --

Hath heard your praises, and this night he means

To burn the lodging where you use to lie,

And you within it. If he fail of that,

He will have other means to cut you off.

730

I overheard him and his practices.

This is no place; this house is but a butchery.

Abhor it, fear it, do not enter it.

ORLANDO

Why, whither, Adam, wouldst thou have me go?

ADAM

No matter whither, so you come not here.

735

ORLANDO

What, wouldst thou have me go and beg my food,

Or with a base and boist'rous sword enforce

A thievish living on the common road?

This I must do, or know not what to do;

Yet this I will not do, do how I can.

740

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 saved under your father,

Which I did store to be my foster nurse

745

When service should in my old limbs lie lame

And unregarded age in corners thrown.

Take that, and He that doth the ravens feed,

Yea, providently caters for the sparrow,

Be comfort to my age! Here is the gold;  [Offering money] 

750

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 apply

Hot and rebellious liquors in my blood,

Nor did not with unbashful forehead woo

755

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.

760

ORLANDO

Oh, good old man, how well in thee appears

The constant service of the antique world,

When service sweat for duty, not for meed!

Thou art not for the fashion of these times,

Where none will sweat but for promotion,

765

And having that do choke their service up

Even with the having. It is not so with thee.

But, poor old man, thou prun'st a rotten tree

That cannot so much as a blossom yield

In lieu of all thy pains and husbandry.

770

But come thy ways. We'll go along together,

And ere we have thy youthful wages spent

We'll light upon some settled low content.

ADAM

Master, go on, and I will follow thee

To the last gasp, with truth and loyalty.

775

From seventeen years till now almost fourscore

Here livèd I, but 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

780

Than to die well and not my master's debtor.

Exeunt.

 [2.4] 

Enter Rosalind for Ganymede, Celia for Aliena, and

Clown, alias Touchstone.

ROSALIND

Oh, Jupiter, how weary are my spirits!

785

TOUCHSTONE

I care not for my spirits, if my legs were not

weary.

ROSALIND

I could find in my heart to disgrace my man's

apparel and to cry like a woman; but I must comfort

the weaker vessel, as doublet and hose ought to show itself

790

courageous to petticoat. Therefore, courage, good

Aliena!

CELIA

I pray you, bear with me; I cannot go no further.

TOUCHSTONE

For my part, I had rather bear with you than

795

bear you; yet I should bear no cross if I did bear

you, for I think you have no money in your purse.

ROSALIND

Well, this is the Forest of Arden.

TOUCHSTONE

Ay, now am I in Arden; the more fool I. When I

was at home I was in a better place, but travelers must

800

be content.

Enter Corin and Silvius.

ROSALIND

Ay, be so, good Touchstone. -- Look you, who comes

here, a young man and an old in solemn talk.

 [They stand aside and listen.] 

CORIN

 [To Silvius]  That is the way to make her scorn you still.

805

SILVIUS

Oh, Corin, that thou knew'st how I do love her!

CORIN

I partly guess; for I have loved ere now.

SILVIUS

No, Corin, being old, thou canst not guess,

Though in thy youth thou wast as true a lover

As ever sighed upon a midnight pillow.

810

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?

CORIN

Into a thousand that I have forgotten.

815

SILVIUS

Oh, thou didst then never love so heartily!

If thou rememb'rest not the slightest folly

That ever love did make thee run into,

Thou hast not loved.

Or if thou hast not sat as I do now,

820

Wearing thy hearer in thy mistress' praise,

Thou hast not loved.

Or if thou hast not broke from company

Abruptly, as my passion now makes me,

Thou hast not loved.

825

O Phoebe, Phoebe, Phoebe!

Exit Silvius

ROSALIND

Alas, poor shepherd! Searching of thy wound,

I have by hard adventure found mine own.

TOUCHSTONE

And I mine. I remember, when I was in love,

I broke my sword upon a stone, and bid him take that for

830

coming a-night to Jane Smile; and I remember the kissing

of her batler, and the cow's dugs that her pretty

chapped hands had milked; and I remember the

wooing of a peascod instead of her, from whom I took two

cods, and giving her them again, said with weeping

835

tears, "Wear these for my sake." We that are true lovers

run into strange capers; but as all is mortal in

nature, so is all nature in love mortal in folly.

ROSALIND

Thou speak'st wiser than thou art ware of.

TOUCHSTONE

Nay, I shall ne'er be ware of mine own wit till

840

I break my shins against it.

ROSALIND

Jove, Jove! This shepherd's passion

Is much upon my fashion.

TOUCHSTONE

And mine; but it grows something stale with

me.

845

CELIA

I pray you, one of you question yond man

If he for gold will give us any food.

ROSALIND

Peace, I say. -- Good even to you, friend.

CORIN

And to you, gentle sir, and to you all.

855

ROSALIND

I prithee, shepherd, if that love or gold

Can in this desert place buy entertainment,

Bring us where we may rest ourselves and feed.

Here's a young maid with travel much oppressed,

And wish, for her sake more than for mine own,

My fortunes were more able to relieve her;

But I am shepherd to another man,

And do not shear the fleeces that I graze.

865

My master is of churlish disposition,

And little recks to find the way to heaven

By doing deeds of hospitality.

Besides, his cote, his flocks, and bounds of feed

Are now on sale, and at our sheepcote now,

870

By reason of his absence, there is nothing

That you will feed on. But what is, come see,

And in my voice most welcome shall you be.

ROSALIND

What is he that shall buy his flock and pasture?

CORIN

That young swain that you saw here

875

but erewhile,

That little cares for buying anything.

ROSALIND

I pray thee, if it stand with honesty,

Buy thou the cottage, pasture, and the flock,

And thou shalt have to pay for it of us.

880

CELIA

And we will mend thy wages.

I like this place,

And willingly could

waste my time in it.

CORIN

Assuredly the thing is to be sold.

Go with me. If you like upon report

885

The soil, the profit, and this kind of life,

I will your very faithful feeder be,

And buy it with your gold right suddenly.

Exeunt.

 [2.5] 

Enter Amiens, Jaques, and others.

 [A table is set out.] 

890

Song

AMIENS

 [Sings] 

Under the greenwood tree

Who loves to lie with me,

And turn his merry note

Unto the sweet bird's throat,

895

Come hither, come hither, come hither.

_Here shall he see

_No enemy

But winter and rough weather.

JAQUES

More, more, I prithee, more.

AMIENS

It will make you melancholy, Monsieur Jaques.

900

JAQUES

I thank it. More, I prithee, more.

I can suck melancholy out of a song

as a weasel sucks eggs. More, I prithee, more.

AMIENS

My voice is ragged. I know I cannot please

you.

905

JAQUES

I do not desire you to please me,

I do desire you to sing.

Come, more; another stanzo. Call you 'em "stanzos"?

AMIENS

What you will, Monsieur Jaques.

JAQUES

Nay, I care not for their names; they owe me

910

nothing. Will you sing?

AMIENS

More at your request than to please myself.

JAQUES

Well then, if ever I thank any man, I'll thank

you. But that they call "compliment" is like th'encounter

of two dog-apes; and when a man thanks me heartily,

915

methinks I have given him a penny, and he renders me

the beggarly thanks. Come, sing; and you that will not,

hold your tongues.

AMIENS

Well, I'll end the song. -- Sirs, cover the while;

the Duke will drink under this tree. -- He hath been all this

920

day to look you.

 [Food and drink are set out.] 

JAQUES

And I have been all this day to avoid him.

He is too disputable for my company.

I think of as many matters as he, but I give

heaven thanks and make no boast of them.

925

Come, warble, come.

Song

AMIENS

 [Sings]  Who doth ambition shun,

And loves to live i'th' sun,

Seeking the food he eats,

930

And pleased with what he gets, All together here

Come hither, come hither, come hither.

_Here shall he see

_No enemy

But winter and rough weather.

JAQUES

I'll give you a verse to this note

that I made yesterday in despite of my invention.

935

AMIENS

And I'll sing it.

JAQUES

Thus it goes:

If it do come to pass

That any man turn ass,

Leaving his wealth and ease

A stubborn will to please,

940

Ducdame, ducdame, ducdame.

_Here shall he see

_Gross fools as he,

An if he will come to me.

AMIENS

What's that "ducdame"?

JAQUES

'Tis a Greek invocation, to call fools into a circle.

945

I'll go sleep, if I can; if I cannot, I'll rail against all

the first-born of Egypt.

AMIENS

And I'll go seek the Duke.

His banquet is prepared.

'' Exeunt [separately]. ''

 [2.6] 

950

Enter Orlando and Adam.

ADAM

Dear master, I can go no further.

Oh, I die for food! Here lie I down,

and measure out my grave. Farewell, kind master.

 [He lies down.] 

ORLANDO

Why, how now, Adam? No greater heart in thee?

955

Live a little, comfort a little, cheer thyself a little.

If this uncouth forest yield anything savage,

I will either be food for it or bring it for food to thee.

Thy conceit is nearer death than thy powers.

For my sake be comfortable; hold death awhile

960

at the arm's end. I will here be with thee presently,

and if I bring thee not something to eat,

I will give thee leave to die; but if thou diest

before I come, thou art a mocker of my labor.

Well said! Thou look'st cheerly,

965

and I'll be with thee quickly. Yet thou liest

in the bleak air. Come, I will bear thee

to some shelter; and thou shalt not die

for lack of a dinner,

if there live anything in this desert.  [He picks up Adam.] 

970

Cheerly, good Adam!

Exeunt

 [2.7] 

 Enter Duke Senior, [Amiens], and Lords, like outlaws 

DUKE SENIOR

I think he be transformed into a beast,

For I can nowhere find him like a man.

975

AMIENS

My lord, he is but even now gone hence.

Here was he merry, hearing of a song.

DUKE SENIOR

If he, compact of jars, grow musical,

We shall have shortly discord in the spheres.

Go seek him. Tell him I would speak with him.

980

Enter Jaques.

AMIENS

He saves my labor by his own approach.

DUKE SENIOR

Why, how now, monsieur, what a life is this,

That your poor friends must woo your company?

What, you look merrily.

985

JAQUES

A fool, a fool! I met a fool i'th'forest,

A motley fool. A miserable world!

As I do live by food, I met a fool,

Who laid him down and basked him in the sun,

And railed on Lady Fortune in good terms,

990

In good set terms, and yet a motley fool.

"Good morrow, fool," quoth I; "No, sir," quoth he,

"Call me not fool till heaven hath sent me fortune."

And then he drew a dial from his poke,

And, looking on it with lack-luster eye,

995

Says very wisely, "It is ten o'clock.

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

'Tis but an hour ago since it was nine,

And after one hour more 'twill be eleven;

And so, from hour to hour, we ripe and ripe,

1000

And then, from hour to hour, we rot and rot,

And thereby hangs a tale." When I did hear

The motley fool thus moral on the time,

My lungs began to crow like Chanticleer

That fools should be so deep-contemplative,

1005

And I did laugh sans intermission

An hour by his dial. Oh, noble fool!

A worthy fool! Motley's the only wear.

DUKE SENIOR

What fool is this?

JAQUES

Oh, worthy fool! One that hath been a courtier,

1010

And says, if ladies be but young and fair,

They have the gift to know it. And in his brain,

Which is as dry as the remainder biscuit

After a voyage, he hath strange places crammed

With observation, the which he vents

1015

In mangled forms. Oh, that I were a fool!

I am ambitious for a motley coat.

Provided that you weed your better judgments

1020

Of all opinion that grows rank in them

That I am wise. I must have liberty

Withal, as large a charter as the wind,

To blow on whom I please, for so fools have.

And they that are most gallèd with my folly,

1025

They most must laugh. And why, sir, must they so?

The "why" is plain as way to parish church:

He that a fool doth very wisely hit

Doth very foolishly, although he smart,

Not to seem senseless of the bob; if not,

1030

The wise man's folly is anatomized

Even by the squand'ring glances of the fool.

Invest me in my motley; give me leave

To speak my mind, and I will through and through

Cleanse the foul body of th'infected world,

1035

If they will patiently receive my medicine.

DUKE SENIOR

Fie on thee! I can tell what thou wouldst do.

JAQUES

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

DUKE SENIOR

Most mischievous foul sin, in chiding sin.

For thou thyself hast been a libertine,

1040

As sensual as the brutish sting itself;

And all th'embossèd sores and headed evils

That thou with license of free foot hast caught

Wouldst thou disgorge into the general world.

JAQUES

Why, who cries out on pride

1045

That can therein tax any private party?

Doth it not flow as hugely as the sea,

Till that the weary very means do ebb?

What woman in the city do I name

When that I say the city woman bears

1050

The cost of princes on unworthy shoulders?

Who can come in and say that I mean her,

When such a one as she, such is her neighbor?

Or what is he of basest function

That says his bravery is not on my cost,

1055

Thinking that I mean him, but therein suits

His folly to the mettle of my speech?

There then, how then? What then? Let me see wherein

My tongue hath wronged him: if it do him right,

Then he hath wronged himself; if he be free,

1060

Why then my taxing like a wild goose flies,

Unclaimed of any man. But who come here?

'' Enter Orlando [with his sword drawn]. ''

ORLANDO

Forbear, and eat no more!

JAQUES

Why, I have eat none yet.

1065

ORLANDO

Nor shalt not, till necessity be served.

JAQUES

Of what kind should this cock come of?

DUKE SENIOR

 [To Orlando]  Art thou thus boldened, man, by thy distress?

Or else a rude despiser of good manners,

That in civility thou seem'st so empty?

1070

ORLANDO

You touched my vein at first. The thorny point

Of bare distress hath ta'en from me the show

Of smooth civility; yet am I inland bred,

And know some nurture. But forbear, I say.

He dies that touches any of this fruit

1075

Till I and my affairs are answerèd.

JAQUES

An you will not be answered with reason,

I must die.

DUKE SENIOR

What would you have?

Your gentleness shall force

More than your force

1080

move us to gentleness.

ORLANDO

I almost die for food, and let me have it!

DUKE SENIOR

Sit down and feed, and welcome to our table.

ORLANDO

Speak you so gently? Pardon me, I pray you.

I thought that all things had been savage here,

1085

And therefore put I on the countenance

Of stern commandment. But whate'er you are

That in this desert inaccessible,

Under the shade of melancholy boughs,

Lose and neglect the creeping hours of time;

1090

If ever you have looked on better days,

If ever been where bells have knolled to church,

If ever sat at any good man's feast,

If ever from your eyelids wiped a tear,

And know what 'tis to pity and be pitied,

1095

Let gentleness my strong enforcement be;

In the which hope I blush, and hide my sword.

 [He sheathes his sword.] 

DUKE SENIOR

True is it that we have seen better days,

And have with holy bell been knolled to church,

And sat at good men's feasts, and wiped our eyes

1100

Of drops that sacred pity hath engendered;

And therefore sit you down in gentleness,

And take upon command what help we have

That to your wanting may be ministered.

ORLANDO

Then but forbear your food a little while,

1105

Whiles, like a doe, I go to find my fawn,

And give it food. There is an old poor man

Who after me hath many a weary step

Limped in pure love. Till he be first sufficed,

Oppressed with two weak evils, age and hunger,

And we will nothing waste till you return.

ORLANDO

I thank ye; and be blest for your good comfort!

 [Exit.] 

DUKE SENIOR

Thou see'st we are not all alone unhappy:

1115

This wide and universal theater

Presents more woeful pageants than the scene

And all the men and women merely players.

1120

They have their exits and their entrances,

And one man in his time plays many parts,

His acts being seven ages. At first the infant,

Mewling and puking in the nurse's arms.

Then the whining schoolboy, with his satchel

1125

And shining morning face, creeping like snail

Unwillingly to school. And then the lover,

Sighing like furnace, with a woeful ballad

Made to his mistress' eyebrow. Then a soldier,

Full of strange oaths, and bearded like the pard,

1130

Jealous in honor, sudden, and quick in quarrel,

Seeking the bubble reputation

Even in the cannon's mouth. And then the justice,

In fair round belly with good capon lined,

With eyes severe and beard of formal cut,

1135

Full of wise saws and modern instances;

And so he plays his part. The sixth age shifts

Into the lean and slippered pantaloon,

With spectacles on nose and pouch on side,

His youthful hose, well saved, a world too wide

1140

For his shrunk shank; and his big manly voice,

Turning again toward childish treble, pipes

And whistles in his sound. Last scene of all,

That ends this strange eventful history,

Is second childishness and mere oblivion,

1145

Sans teeth, sans eyes, sans taste, sans everything.

Enter Orlando with Adam.

DUKE SENIOR

Welcome. Set down your venerable burden,

And let him feed.

ORLANDO

I thank you most for him.

1150

ADAM

So had you need;

I scarce can speak to thank you for myself.

DUKE SENIOR

Welcome. Fall to. I will not trouble you

As yet to question you about your fortunes. --

Give us some music; and, good cousin, sing.

1155

Song

AMIENS

 [Sings] 

Blow, blow, thou winter wind,

Thou art not so unkind

_As man's ingratitude.

Thy tooth is not so keen,

Because thou art not seen,

_Although thy breath be rude.

1160

Heigh-ho! Sing heigh-ho! unto the green holly.

Most friendship is feigning, most loving mere folly.

Then, heigh-ho, the holly!

This life is most jolly.

Freeze, freeze, thou bitter sky,

That dost not bite so nigh

1165

_As benefits forgot;

Though thou the waters warp,

Thy sting is not so sharp

_As friend remembered not.

Heigh-ho! Sing heigh-ho! unto the green holly.

Most friendship is feigning, most loving mere folly.

Then, heigh-ho, the holly!

This life is most jolly.

DUKE SENIOR

If that you were the good Sir Rowland's son,

1170

As you have whispered faithfully you were,

And as mine eye doth his effigies witness

Most truly limned and living in your face,

Be truly welcome hither. I am the Duke

That loved your father. The residue of your fortune,

1175

Go to my cave and tell me.  [To Adam]  Good old man,

Thou art right welcome as thy master is.  [To the others] 

Support him by the arm. [To Orlando]  Give me your hand,

And let me all your fortunes understand.

Exeunt.

 [3.1] 

1180

'' Enter Duke [Frederick], Lords, and Oliver. ''

DUKE FREDERICK

"Not see him since?" Sir, sir, that cannot be.

But were I not the better part made mercy,

I should not seek an absent argument

Of my revenge, thou present. But look to it:

1185

Find out thy brother wheresoe'er he is;

Seek him with candle. Bring him dead or living

Within this twelvemonth, or turn thou no more

To seek a living in our territory.

Thy lands and all things that thou dost call thine

1190

Worth seizure do we seize into our hands,

Till thou canst quit thee by thy brother's mouth

Of what we think against thee.

OLIVER

Oh. that Your Highness knew my heart in this!

I never loved my brother in my life.

1195

DUKE FREDERICK

More villain thou. -- Well, push him out of doors,

And let my officers of such a nature

Make an extent upon his house and lands.

Do this expediently, and turn him going.

Exeunt.

 [3.2] 

1200

'' Enter Orlando [with a paper]. ''

ORLANDO

Hang there, my verse, in witness of my love;

_And thou, thrice-crownèd Queen of Night, survey

With thy chaste eye, from thy pale sphere above,

_Thy huntress' name that my full life doth sway.

1205

O Rosalind! These trees shall be my books,

_And in their barks my thoughts I'll character,

That every eye which in this forest looks

_Shall see thy virtue witnessed everywhere.

Run, run, Orlando, carve on every tree

1210

The fair, the chaste, and unexpressive she.

Exit

'' Enter Corin and Clown [Touchstone]. ''

CORIN

And how like you this shepherd's life, Master Touchstone?

TOUCHSTONE

Truly, shepherd, in respect of itself, it is a

good life; but in respect that it is a shepherd's life, it is

1215

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 respect

it is not in the court, it is tedious. As it is a spare

life, look you, it fits my humor well; but as there is no

1220

more plenty in it, it goes much against my stomach.

Hast any philosophy in thee, shepherd?

CORIN

No more but that I know the more one sickens

the worse at ease he is; and that he that wants money,

means, and content is without three good friends; that

1225

the property of rain is to wet, and fire to burn; that

good pasture makes fat sheep, and that a great cause of

the night is lack of the sun; that he that hath learned

no wit by nature nor art may complain of good

breeding, or comes of a very dull kindred.

1230

TOUCHSTONE

Such a one is a natural philosopher.

Wast ever in court, shepherd?

CORIN

No, truly.

TOUCHSTONE

Then thou art damned.

CORIN

Nay, I hope.

1235

TOUCHSTONE

Truly, thou art damned, like an ill-roasted egg,

all on one side.

CORIN

For not being at court? Your reason.

TOUCHSTONE

Why, if thou never wast at court, thou never

saw'st good manners; if thou never saw'st good manners,

1240

then thy manners must be wicked; and wickedness is sin,

and sin is damnation. Thou art in a parlous state,

shepherd.

CORIN

Not a whit, Touchstone. Those that are good manners

at the court are as ridiculous in the country as

1245

the behavior of the country is most mockable at the

court. You told me you salute not at the court but

you kiss your hands; that courtesy would be uncleanly

if courtiers were shepherds.

TOUCHSTONE

Instance, briefly; come, instance.

1250

CORIN

Why, we are still handling our ewes, and their

fells, you know, are greasy.

TOUCHSTONE

Why, do not your courtier's hands sweat? And

is not the grease of a mutton as wholesome as the sweat

of a man? Shallow, shallow. A better instance, I say.

1255

Come.

CORIN

Besides, our hands are hard.

TOUCHSTONE

Your lips will feel them the sooner. Shallow again.

A more sounder instance. Come.

CORIN

And they are often tarred over with the surgery

1260

of our sheep; and would you have us kiss tar? The

courtier's hands are perfumed with civet.

TOUCHSTONE

Most shallow man! Thou worm's meat in respect

of a good piece of flesh indeed! Learn of the wise,

and perpend: civet is of a baser birth than tar, the

1265

very uncleanly flux of a cat. Mend the instance,

shepherd.

CORIN

You have too courtly a wit for me. I'll rest.

TOUCHSTONE

Wilt thou rest damned? God help thee, shallow

man! God make incision in thee! Thou art raw.

1270

CORIN

Sir, I am a true laborer: I earn that I eat, get

that I wear, owe no man hate, envy no man's happiness,

glad of other men's good, content with my harm,

and the greatest of my pride is to see my ewes graze and

my lambs suck.

1275

TOUCHSTONE

That is another simple sin in you, to bring the

ewes and the rams together and to offer to get your

living by the copulation of cattle; to be bawd to a bellwether,

and to betray a she-lamb of a twelvemonth

to crooked-pated old cuckoldly ram, out of all

1280

reasonable match. If thou beest not damned for this,

the devil himself will have no shepherds; I cannot see else

how thou shouldst scape.

CORIN

Here comes young Master Ganymede, my new mistress's

brother.

1285

'' Enter Rosalind [reading a paper]. ''

ROSALIND

"From the east to western Ind,

No jewel is like Rosalind.

Her worth, being mounted on the wind,

Through all the world bears Rosalind.

1290

All the pictures fairest lined

Are but black to Rosalind.

Let no face be kept in mind

But the fair of Rosalind."

TOUCHSTONE

I'll rhyme you so eight years together, dinners,

1295

and suppers, and sleeping hours, excepted. It is the right

butter-women's rank to market.

ROSALIND

Out, fool!

TOUCHSTONE

For a taste:

If a hart do lack a hind,

1300

Let him seek out Rosalind.

If the cat will after kind,

So be sure will Rosalind.

Wintered garments must be lined,

So must slender Rosalind.

1305

They that reap must sheaf and bind,

Then to cart with Rosalind.

Sweetest nut hath sourest rind,

Such a nut is Rosalind.

He that sweetest rose will find

1310

Must find love's prick and Rosalind.

This is the very false gallop of verses. Why do you infect

yourself with them?

ROSALIND

Peace, you dull fool! I found them on a tree.

TOUCHSTONE

Truly, the tree yields bad fruit.

1315

ROSALIND

I'll graft it with you, and then I shall graft it

with a medlar. Then it will be the earliest fruit i'th' country;

for you'll be rotten ere you be half ripe, and that's

the right virtue of the medlar.

TOUCHSTONE

You have said; but whether wisely or no, let the

1320

forest judge.

Enter Celia, with a writing.

ROSALIND

Peace! Here comes my sister, reading. Stand aside.

CELIA

"Why should this a desert be?

_For it is unpeopled? No.

1325

Tongues I'll hang on every tree

_That shall civil sayings show:

Some, how brief the life of man

_Runs his erring pilgrimage,

That the stretching of a span

1330

_Buckles in his sum of age;

Some, of violated vows

_'Twixt the souls of friend and friend;

But upon the fairest boughs,

_Or at every sentence end,

1335

Will I "Rosalinda" write,

_Teaching all that read to know

The quintessence of every sprite

_Heaven would in little show.

Therefore heaven Nature charged

1340

_That one body should be filled

With all graces wide-enlarged.

_Nature presently distilled

Helen's cheek, but not her heart,

_Cleopatra's majesty,

1345

Atalanta's better part,

_Sad Lucretia's modesty.

Thus Rosalind of many parts

_By heavenly synod was devised

Of many faces, eyes, and hearts

1350

_To have the touches dearest prized.

Heaven would that she these gifts should have,

And I to live and die her slave."

ROSALIND

O most gentle Jupiter, what tedious homily of

love have you wearied your parishioners withal, and

1355

never cried "Have patience, good people!"

CELIA

How now? Back, friends. Shepherd, go off a little.

 [To Touchstone] Go with him, sirrah.

TOUCHSTONE

 [To Corin]  Come, shepherd, let us make an honorable retreat,

though not with bag and baggage, yet with

1360

scrip and scrippage.

'' Exit [with Corin]. ''

CELIA

Didst thou hear these verses?

ROSALIND

Oh, yes, I heard them all, and more too, for some

of them had in them more feet than the verses would

bear.

1365

CELIA

That's no matter; the feet might bear the verses.

ROSALIND

Ay, but the feet were lame, and could not bear

themselves without the verse, and therefore stood lamely

in the verse.

CELIA

But didst thou hear without wondering how

1370

thy name should be hanged and carved upon these trees?

ROSALIND

I was seven of the nine days out of the wonder

before you came; for look here what I found on a

palm tree. I was never so berhymed since Pythagoras'

time that I was an Irish rat, which I can hardly remember.

 [Rosalind shows Celia the verse she found.] 

1375

CELIA

Trow you who hath done this?

ROSALIND

Is it a man?

CELIA

And a chain that you once wore about his neck.

Change you color?

ROSALIND

I prithee, who?

1380

CELIA

Oh, Lord, Lord, it is a hard matter for friends to

meet; but mountains may be removed with earthquakes,

and so encounter.

ROSALIND

Nay, but who is it?

CELIA

Is it possible?

1385

ROSALIND

Nay, I prithee now, with most petitionary vehemence,

tell me who it is.

CELIA

Oh, wonderful, wonderful, most wonderful

wonderful, and yet again wonderful, and after that,

out of all hooping!

1390

ROSALIND

Good my complexion! Dost thou think, though

I am caparisoned like a man, I have a doublet and hose in

my disposition? One inch of delay more is a South Sea of discovery

. I prithee tell me who is it quickly, and

speak apace. I would thou couldst stammer, that thou

1395

mightst pour this concealed man out of thy mouth as

wine comes out of narrow-mouthed bottle -- either too

much at once or none at all. I prithee take the cork

out of thy mouth, that I may drink thy tidings.

CELIA

So you may put a man in your belly.

1400

ROSALIND

Is he of God's making? What manner of man?

Is his head worth a hat, or his chin worth a beard?

CELIA

Nay, he hath but a little beard.

ROSALIND

Why, God will send more, if the man will be

thankful. Let me stay the growth of his beard, if thou

1405

delay me not the knowledge of his chin.

CELIA

It is young Orlando, that tripped up the wrestler's

heels and your heart both in an instant.

ROSALIND

Nay, but the devil take mocking! Speak sad

brow and true maid.

1410

CELIA

I' faith, coz, 'tis he.

ROSALIND

Orlando?

CELIA

Orlando.

ROSALIND

Alas the day, what shall I do with my doublet and

hose? What did he when thou saw'st him? What said

1415

he? How looked he? Wherein went he? What makes he here?

Did he ask for me? Where remains he? How

parted he with thee? And when shalt thou see him again?

Answer me in one word.

CELIA

You must borrow me Gargantua's mouth first;

1420

'tis a word too great for any mouth of this age's size.

To say ay and no to these particulars is more than to answer

in a catechism.

ROSALIND

But doth he know that I am in this forest, and

in man's apparel? Looks he as freshly as he did the day

1425

he wrestled?

CELIA

It is as easy to count atomies as to resolve the propositions

of a lover. But take a taste of my finding

him, and relish it with good observance. I found him

under a tree, like a dropped acorn.

1430

ROSALIND

It may well be called Jove's tree, when it

drops forth such fruit.

CELIA

Give me audience, good madam.

ROSALIND

Proceed.

CELIA

There lay he, stretched along like a wounded

1435

knight.

ROSALIND

Though it be pity to see such a sight, it well

becomes the ground.

CELIA

Cry "Holla" to thy tongue, I prithee; it curvets

unseasonably. He was furnished like a hunter.

1440

ROSALIND

Oh, ominous! He comes to kill my heart.

CELIA

I would sing my song without a burden.

Thou bring'st me out of tune.

ROSALIND

Do you not know I am a woman? When I think,

I must speak. Sweet, say on.

1445

Enter Orlando and Jaques.

CELIA

You bring me out. -- Soft, comes he not here?

ROSALIND

'Tis he. Slink by, and note him.

 [Rosalind and Celia stand aside and listen.] 

JAQUES

 [To Orlando]  I thank you for your company, but, good faith,

I had as lief have been myself alone.

1450

ORLANDO

And so had I; but yet, for fashion sake,

I thank you too for your society.

JAQUES

God b'wi' you. Let's meet as little as we can.

ORLANDO

I do desire we may be better strangers.

JAQUES

I pray you, mar no more trees with writing

1455

love songs in their barks.

ORLANDO

I pray you, mar no more of my verses with reading

them ill-favoredly.

JAQUES

Rosalind is your love's name?

ORLANDO

Yes, just.

JAQUES

I do not like her name.

1460

ORLANDO

There was no thought of pleasing you when she

was christened.

JAQUES

What stature is she of?

ORLANDO

Just as high as my heart.

JAQUES

You are full of pretty answers. Have you not been acquainted

1465

with goldsmiths' wives, and conned them out of rings?

ORLANDO

Not so; but I answer you right painted cloth,

from whence you have studied your questions.

JAQUES

You have a nimble wit; I think 'twas made of

Atalanta's heels. Will you sit down with me? And

1470

we two will rail against our mistress the world, and all

our misery.

ORLANDO

I will chide no breather in the world but myself,

against whom I know most faults.

JAQUES

The worst fault you have is to be in love.

1475

ORLANDO

'Tis a fault I will not change for your best virtue.

I am weary of you.

JAQUES

By my troth, I was seeking for a fool when I

found you.

ORLANDO

He is drowned in the brook. Look but in, and

1480

you shall see him.

JAQUES

There I shall see mine own figure.

ORLANDO

Which I take to be either a fool or a cipher.

JAQUES

I'll tarry no longer with you. Farewell, good Signior

Love.

1485

ORLANDO

I am glad of your departure. Adieu, good Monsieur

Melancholy.

 [Exit Jaques.] 

ROSALIND

 [Aside to Celia]  I will speak to him like a saucy lackey, and

under that habit play the knave with him. -- Do you hear, forester?

ORLANDO

Very well. What would you?

1490

ROSALIND

I pray you, what is't o'clock?

ORLANDO

You should ask me what time o' day. There's no

clock in the forest.

ROSALIND

Then there is no true lover in the forest, else

sighing every minute and groaning every hour would

1495

detect the lazy foot of Time as well as a clock.

ORLANDO

And why not the swift foot of Time? Had not

that been as proper?

ROSALIND

By no means, sir. Time travels in divers paces

with divers persons. I'll tell you who Time ambles withal,

1500

who Time trots withal, who Time gallops withal,

and who he stands still withal.

ORLANDO

I prithee, who doth he trot withal?

ROSALIND

Marry, he trots hard with a young maid between

the contract of her marriage and the day it is solemnized.

1505

If the interim be but a se'nnight, Time's pace is so hard

that it seems the length of seven year.

ORLANDO

Who ambles Time withal?

ROSALIND

With a priest that lacks Latin and a rich man

that hath not the gout, for the one sleeps easily because

1510

he cannot study, and the other lives merrily because

he feels no pain; the one lacking the burden of

lean and wasteful learning, the other knowing no burden

of heavy tedious penury. These Time

ambles withal.

1515

ORLANDO

Who doth he gallop withal?

ROSALIND

With a thief to the gallows, for though he

go as softly as foot can fall, he thinks himself too soon

there.

ORLANDO

Who stays it still withal?

1520

ROSALIND

With lawyers in the vacation; for they sleep

between term and term, and then they perceive not

how Time moves.

ORLANDO

Where dwell you, pretty youth?

ROSALIND

With this shepherdess, my sister, here in the

1525

skirts of the forest, like fringe upon a petticoat.

ORLANDO

Are you native of this place?

ROSALIND

As the coney that you see dwell where she is

kindled.

ORLANDO

Your accent is something finer than you could

1530

purchase in so removed a dwelling.

ROSALIND

I have been told so of many. But indeed an old

religious uncle of mine taught me to speak, who was

in his youth an inland man, one that knew courtship too

well, for there he fell in love. I have heard him read many lectures

1535

against it; and I thank God I am not a woman,

to be touched with so many giddy offences as he

hath generally taxed their whole sex withal.

ORLANDO

Can you remember any of the principal evils

that he laid to the charge of women?

1540

ROSALIND

There were none principal; they were all like

one another as halfpence are, every one fault seeming

monstrous till his fellow-fault came to match it.

ORLANDO

I prithee, recount some of them.

ROSALIND

No; I will not cast away my physic but on those

1545

that are sick. There is a man haunts the forest that abuses

our young plants with carving "Rosalind" on their

barks, hangs odes upon hawthorns and elegies on

brambles, all, forsooth, deifying the name of Rosalind.

If I could meet that fancy-monger, I would give him

1550

some good counsel, for he seems to have the quotidian

of love upon him.

ORLANDO

I am he that is so love-shaked. I pray you, tell

me your remedy.

ROSALIND

There is none of my uncle's marks upon you.

1555

He taught me how to know a man in love, in which

cage of rushes I am sure you are not prisoner.

ORLANDO

What were his marks?

ROSALIND

A lean cheek, which you have not; a blue eye

and sunken, which you have not; an unquestionable spirit,

1560

which you have not; a beard neglected, which you

have not -- but I pardon you for that, for simply your having

in beard is a younger brother's revenue. Then your

hose should be ungartered, your bonnet unbanded, your

sleeve unbuttoned, your shoe untied, and everything

1565

about you demonstrating a careless desolation. But you

are no such man. You are rather point-device in your accoutrements,

as loving yourself, than seeming the lover

of any other.

ORLANDO

Fair youth, I would I could make thee believe I love.

1570

ROSALIND

Me believe it? You may as soon make her that

you love believe it -- which, I warrant, she is apter to do

than to confess she does. That is one of the points in the

which women still give the lie to their consciences. But,

in good sooth, are you he that hangs the verses on the

1575

trees wherein Rosalind is so admired?

ORLANDO

I swear to thee, youth, by the white hand of

Rosalind, I am that he, that unfortunate he.

ROSALIND

But are you so much in love as your rhymes speak?

ORLANDO

Neither rhyme nor reason can express how much.

1580

ROSALIND

Love is merely a madness, and, I tell you, deserves

as well a dark house and a whip as madmen do;

and the reason why they are not so punished and cured is

that the lunacy is so ordinary that the whippers are in

love too. Yet I profess curing it by counsel.

1585

ORLANDO

Did you ever cure any so?

ROSALIND

Yes, one, and in this manner. He was to imagine

me his love, his mistress, and I set him every day

to woo me. At which time would I, being but a moonish

youth, grieve, be effeminate, changeable, longing and

1590

liking, proud, fantastical, apish, shallow, inconstant, full

of tears, full of smiles; for every passion something and

for no passion truly anything, as boys and women are

for the most part cattle of this color; would now like

him, now loathe him; then entertain him, then forswear him;

1595

now weep for him, then spit at him; that I drave

my suitor from his mad humor of love to a living

humor of madness, which was to forswear the full stream of the world

and to live in a nook, merely monastic. And thus I cured

him; and this way will I take upon me to wash your liver

1600

as clean as a sound sheep's heart, that there shall not

be one spot of love in't.

ORLANDO

I would not be cured, youth.

ROSALIND

I would cure you, if you would but call me Rosalind,

and come every day to my cote and woo me.

1605

ORLANDO

Now, by the faith of my love, I will. Tell me

where it is.

ROSALIND

Go with me to it, and I'll show it you; and by

the way you shall tell me where in the forest you live.

Will you go?

1610

ORLANDO

With all my heart, good youth.

ROSALIND

Nay, you must call me Rosalind. -- Come, sister,

will you go?

Exeunt.

 [3.3] 

'' Enter [Touchstone the] Clown, Audrey, and Jaques [behind]. ''

1615

TOUCHSTONE

Come apace, good Audrey. I will fetch up your

goats, Audrey. And how, Audrey, am I the man yet?

Doth my simple feature content you?

AUDREY

Your features! Lord warrant us, what features?

TOUCHSTONE

I am here with thee and thy goats, as the most

1620

capricious poet, honest Ovid, was among the Goths.

JAQUES

 [Aside]  Oh, knowledge ill-inhabited, worse than

Jove in a thatched house!

TOUCHSTONE

When a man's verses cannot be understood, nor

a man's good wit seconded with the forward child, understanding,

1625

it strikes a man more dead than a great reckoning

in a little room. Truly, I would the gods had

made thee poetical.

AUDREY

I do not know what "poetical" is. Is it honest in

deed and word? Is it a true thing?

1630

TOUCHSTONE

No, truly; for the truest poetry is the most feigning,

and lovers are given to poetry, and what they

swear in poetry it may be said as lovers they do feign.

AUDREY

Do you wish, then, that the gods had made me

poetical?

1635

TOUCHSTONE

I do, truly; for thou swear'st to me thou art honest.

Now, if thou wert a poet, I might have some hope

thou didst feign.

AUDREY

Would you not have me honest?

TOUCHSTONE

No, truly, unless thou wert hard-favored; for

1640

honesty coupled to beauty is to have honey a sauce to

sugar.

JAQUES

 [Aside]  A material fool!

AUDREY

Well, I am not fair, and therefore I pray the

gods make me honest.

1645

TOUCHSTONE

Truly, and to cast away honesty upon a foul

slut were to put good meat into an unclean dish.

AUDREY

I am not a slut, though I thank the gods I

am foul.

TOUCHSTONE

Well, praised be the gods for thy foulness! Sluttishness

1650

may come hereafter. But be it as it may be,

I will marry thee; and to that end I have been with Sir

Oliver Mar-text, the vicar of the next village, who hath

promised to meet me in this place of the forest, and to

couple us.

1655

JAQUES

 [Aside]  I would fain see this meeting.

AUDREY

Well, the gods give us joy!

TOUCHSTONE

Amen. A man may, if he were of a fearful heart,

stagger in this attempt; for here we have no temple

but the wood, no assembly but horn-beasts. But

1660

what though? Courage! As horns are odious, they are necessary.

It is said, "Many a man knows no end of his goods."

Right! Many a man has good horns and knows no end of them.

Well, that is the dowry of his wife; 'tis none

of his own getting. Horns? Even so. Poor men alone?

1665

No, no, the noblest deer hath them as huge as the rascal.

Is the single man therefore blessed? No. As a walled

town is more worthier than a village, so is the forehead

of a married man more honorable than the bare

brow of a bachelor; and by how much defense is better

1670

than no skill, by so much is a horn more precious

than to want.

Enter Sir Oliver Mar-text.

Here comes Sir Oliver. -- Sir Oliver Mar-text, you are

well met. Will you dispatch us here under this tree, or

1675

shall we go with you to your chapel?

SIR OLIVER MAR-TEXT

Is there none here to give the woman?

TOUCHSTONE

I will not take her on gift of any man.

SIR OLIVER MAR-TEXT

Truly, she must be given, or the marriage is not

lawful.

1680

JAQUES

 [Coming forward]  Proceed, proceed. I'll give her.

TOUCHSTONE

Good even, good Master What-ye-call't. How do you,

sir? You are very well met. God 'ild you for your last company.

I am very glad to see you. Even a toy in hand

here, sir. -- Nay, pray be covered.

1685

JAQUES

Will you be married, motley?

TOUCHSTONE

As the ox hath his bow, sir, the horse his curb,

and the falcon her bells, so man hath his desires; and as

pigeons bill, so wedlock would be nibbling.

JAQUES

And will you, being a man of your breeding, be

1690

married under a bush like a beggar? Get you to church,

and have a good priest that can tell you what marriage is.

This fellow will but join you together as they

join wainscot; then one of you will prove a shrunk panel,

and, like green timber warp, warp.

1695

TOUCHSTONE

I am not in the mind but I were better to be

married of him than of another; for he is not like to marry

me well; and not being well married, it will be a good

excuse for me hereafter to leave my wife.

JAQUES

Go thou with me,

1700

and let me counsel thee.

TOUCHSTONE

Come, sweet Audrey.

We must be married or we must live in bawdry. --

Farewell, good Master Oliver. Not

_"O sweet Oliver,

_O brave

Oliver,

Leave me not behind thee,"

but

_"Wind away,

_Begone,

1705

I say,

I will not to wedding with thee."

 [Exeunt Jaques, Touchstone, and Audrey.] 

SIR OLIVER MAR-TEXT

'Tis no matter. Ne'er a fantastical knave of them

all shall flout me out of my calling.

Exit.

 [3.4] 

Enter Rosalind and Celia.

1710

ROSALIND

Never talk to me. I will weep.

CELIA

Do, I prithee, but yet have the grace to consider

that tears do not become a man.

ROSALIND

But have I not cause to weep?

CELIA

As good cause as one would desire;

1715

therefore weep.

ROSALIND

His very hair

is of the dissembling color.

CELIA

Something browner than Judas's.

Marry, his kisses are Judas's own children.

1720

ROSALIND

I'faith, his hair is of a good color.

CELIA

An excellent color.

Your chestnut was ever the only color.

ROSALIND

And his kissing is as full of sanctity

as the touch of holy bread.

1725

CELIA

He hath bought a pair of cast lips of Diana. A

nun of winter's sisterhood kisses not more religiously;

the very ice of chastity is in them.

ROSALIND

But why did he swear he would come this

morning, and comes not?

1730

CELIA

Nay, certainly, there is no truth in him.

ROSALIND

Do you think so?

CELIA

Yes. I think he is not a pickpurse nor a horse-stealer,

but for his verity in love, I do think him as

concave as a covered goblet or a worm-eaten nut.

1735

ROSALIND

Not true in love?

CELIA

Yes, when he is in, but I think he is not in.

ROSALIND

You have heard him swear downright he was.

CELIA

"Was" is not "is." Besides, the oath of a lover is no

stronger than the word of a tapster; they are both the

1740

confirmer of false reckonings. He attends here in the forest

on the Duke, your father.

ROSALIND

I met the Duke yesterday, and had much question

with him. He asked me of what parentage I was. I

told him, of as good as he; so he laughed and let me go.

1745

But what talk we of fathers, when there is such a man

as Orlando?

CELIA

Oh, that's a brave man! He writes brave verses,

speaks brave words, swears brave oaths, and breaks

them bravely, quite traverse, athwart the heart of his lover,

1750

as a puny tilter, that spurs his horse but on one side,

breaks his staff like a noble goose. But all's brave that

youth mounts and folly guides. Who comes here?

Enter Corin.

CORIN

Mistress and master, you have oft inquired

1755

After the shepherd that complained of love,

Who you saw sitting by me on the turf,

Praising the proud disdainful shepherdess

1760

CORIN

If you will see a pageant truly played

Between the pale complexion of true love

And the red glow of scorn and proud disdain,

Go hence a little, and I shall conduct you,

The sight of lovers feedeth those in love.

Bring us to this sight, and you shall say

I'll prove a busy actor in their play.

Exeunt.

 [3.5] 

1770

Enter Silvius and Phoebe.

SILVIUS

Sweet Phoebe, do not scorn me, do not, Phoebe!

Say that you love me not, but say not so

In bitterness. The common executioner,

Whose heart th'accustomed sight of death makes hard,

1775

Falls not the ax upon the humbled neck

But first begs pardon. Will you sterner be

Than he that dies and lives by bloody drops?

'' Enter Rosalind, Celia, and Corin, [at a distance]. ''

PHOEBE

I would not be thy executioner;

1780

I fly thee, for I would not injure thee.

Thou tell'st me there is murder in mine eye.

'Tis pretty, sure, and very probable,

That eyes, that are the frail'st and softest things,

Who shut their coward gates on atomies,

1785

Should be called tyrants, butchers, murderers!

Now I do frown on thee with all my heart,

And if mine eyes can wound, now let them kill thee.

Now counterfeit to swoon; why, now fall down,

Or, if thou canst not, oh, for shame, for shame,

1790

Lie not, to say mine eyes are murderers!

Now show the wound mine eye hath made in thee.

Scratch thee but with a pin, and there remains

Some scar of it; lean upon a rush,

The cicatrice and capable impressure

1795

Thy palm some moment keeps; but now mine eyes,

Which I have darted at thee, hurt thee not.

Nor, I am sure, there is no force in eyes

That can do hurt.

SILVIUS

O dear Phoebe,

1800

If ever -- as that "ever" may be near --

You meet in some fresh cheek the power of fancy,

Then shall you know the wounds invisible

1805

Come not thou near me; and when that time comes,

Afflict me with thy mocks; pity me not,

As till that time I shall not pity thee.

ROSALIND

 [Advancing]  And why, I pray you? Who might be your mother,

That you insult, exult, and all at once,

1810

Over the wretched? What though you have no beauty --

As, by my faith, I see no more in you

Than without candle may go dark to bed --

Must you be therefore proud and pitiless?  [Phoebe gazes intently at Rosalind.] 

Why, what means this? Why do you look on me?

1815

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.

'Tis not your inky brows, your black silk hair,

1820

Your bugle eyeballs, nor your cheek of cream

That can entame my spirits to your worship.  [To Silvius] 

You foolish shepherd, wherefore do you follow her,

Like foggy south, puffing with wind and rain?

You are a thousand times a properer man

1825

Than she a woman. 'Tis such fools as you

That makes the world full of ill-favored children.

'Tis 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.  [To Phoebe] 

1830

But, mistress, know yourself. Down on your knees,

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

For I must tell you friendly in your ear:

Sell when you can; you are not for all markets.

Cry the man mercy, love him, take his offer;

1835

Foul is most foul, being foul to be a scoffer.  [To Silvius] 

So take her to thee, shepherd. Fare you well.

PHOEBE

Sweet youth, I pray you chide a year together.

I had rather hear you chide than this man woo.

ROSALIND

 [To Phoebe]  He's fallen in love with your foulness,  [To Silvius] and she'll

1840

fall in love with my anger. If it be so, as fast

as she answers thee with frowning looks, I'll sauce

her with bitter words.  [To Phoebe] Why look you so upon me?

PHOEBE

For no ill will I bear you.

ROSALIND

I pray you, do not fall in love with me,

1845

For I am falser than vows made in wine.

Besides, I like you not.  [To Silvius]  If you will know my house,

'Tis at the tuft of olives here hard by. --

Will you go, sister? -- Shepherd, ply her hard. --

Come, sister. -- Shepherdess, look on him better,

1850

And be not proud. Though all the world could see,

None could be so abused in sight as he. --

Come, to our flock.

'' Exit [with Celia and Corin]. ''

PHOEBE

Dead shepherd, now I find thy saw of might:

"Who ever loved that loved not at first sight?"

SILVIUS

Sweet Phoebe, pity me.

PHOEBE

Why, I am sorry for thee, gentle Silvius.

SILVIUS

Wherever sorrow is, relief would be.

1860

If you do sorrow at my grief in love,

By giving love, your sorrow and my grief

Were both extermined.

PHEBE

Thou hast my love. Is not that neighborly?

Silvius, the time was that I hated thee,

And yet it is not that I bear thee love;

But since that thou canst talk of love so well,

Thy company, which erst was irksome to me,

1870

I will endure; and I'll employ thee too.

But do not look for further recompense

Than thine own gladness that thou art employed.

SILVIUS

So holy and so perfect is my love,

And I in such a poverty of grace,

1875

That I shall think it a most plenteous crop

To glean the broken ears after the man

That the main harvest reaps. Loose now and then

A scattered smile, and that I'll live upon.

PHOEBE

Know'st thou the youth that spoke to me erewhile?

1880

SILVIUS

Not very well, but I have met him oft,

And he hath bought the cottage and the bounds

That the old carlot once was master of.

PHOEBE

Think not I love him, though I ask for him.

'Tis but a peevish boy; yet he talks well.

1885

But what care I for words? Yet words do well

When he that speaks them pleases those that hear.

It is a pretty youth -- not very pretty;

But, sure, he's proud; and yet his pride becomes him.

He'll make a proper man. The best thing in him

1890

Is his complexion; and faster than his tongue

Did make offense, his eye did heal it up.

He is not very tall; yet for his years he's tall;

His leg is but so-so; and yet 'tis well.

There was a pretty redness in his lip,

1895

A little riper and more lusty red

Than that mixed in his cheek; 'twas just the difference

Betwixt the constant red and mingled damask.

There be some women, Silvius, had they marked him

In parcels as I did, would have gone near

1900

To fall in love with him; but, for my part,

I love him not, nor hate him not; and yet

I have more cause to hate him than to love him.

For what had he to do to chide at me?

He said mine eyes were black, and my hair black,

1905

And, now I am remembered, scorned at me.

I marvel why I answered not again.

But that's all one; omittance is no quittance.

I'll write to him a very taunting letter,

And thou shalt bear it. Wilt thou, Silvius?

The matter's in my head and in my heart.

I will be bitter with him and passing short.

Go with me, Silvius.

Exeunt.

1915

 [4.1] 

Enter Rosalind, Celia, and Jaques.

JAQUES

I prithee, pretty youth, let me be better acquainted

with thee.

ROSALIND

They say you are a melancholy fellow.

1920

JAQUES

I am so. I do love it better than laughing.

ROSALIND

Those that are in extremity of either are abominable

fellows, and betray themselves to every modern

censure worse than drunkards.

JAQUES

Why, 'tis good to be sad and say nothing.

1925

ROSALIND

Why then, 'tis good to be a post.

JAQUES

I have neither the scholar's melancholy, which

is emulation, nor the musician's, which is fantastical,

nor the courtier's, which is proud, nor the soldier's,

which is ambitious, nor the lawyer's, which is politic,

1930

nor the lady's, which is nice, nor the lover's, which

is all these; but it is a melancholy of mine own, compounded

of many simples, extracted from many objects,

and indeed the sundry contemplation of my travels, in

which my often rumination wraps me in a most humorous

1935

sadness.

ROSALIND

A traveler! By my faith, you have great reason

to be sad. I fear you have sold your own lands

to see other men's. Then to have seen much and to have

nothing is to have rich eyes and poor hands.

1940

JAQUES

Yes, I have gained my experience.

Enter Orlando.

ROSALIND

And your experience makes you sad. I had rather

have a fool to make me merry than experience to

make me sad -- and to travel for it too!

1945

ORLANDO

Good day, and happiness, dear Rosalind!

JAQUES

Nay, then, God b'wi' you, an you talk in blank

verse.

ROSALIND

Farewell, Monsieur Traveler. Look you lisp

and wear strange suits, disable all the benefits

1950

of your own country, be out of love with

your nativity, and almost chide God for making you that

countenance you are, or I will scarce think you have

swam in a gondola.  [Exit Jaques.]  Why, how now, Orlando, where

have you been all this while? You a lover? An you

1955

serve me such another trick, never come in my sight

more.

ORLANDO

My fair Rosalind, I come within an hour of my

promise.

ROSALIND

Break an hour's promise in love? He that

1960

will divide a minute into a thousand parts and break

but a part of the thousand part of a minute in the affairs

of love, it may be said of him that Cupid hath clapped

him o'th' shoulder, but I'll warrant him heart-whole.

ORLANDO

Pardon me, dear Rosalind.

1965

ROSALIND

Nay, an you be so tardy, come no more in my

sight. I had as lief be wooed of a snail.

ORLANDO

Of a snail?

ROSALIND

Ay, of a snail; for though he comes slowly, he

carries his house on his head -- a better jointure, I think,

1970

than you make a woman. Besides, he brings his destiny

with him.

ORLANDO

What's that?

ROSALIND

Why, horns, which such as you are fain to be beholding

to your wives for. But he comes armed in his fortune,

1975

and prevents the slander of his wife.

ORLANDO

Virtue is no horn-maker; and my Rosalind is

virtuous.

ROSALIND

And I am your Rosalind.

CELIA

It pleases him to call you so; but he hath a Rosalind

1980

of a better leer than you.

ROSALIND

Come, woo me, woo me, for now I am in a

holiday humor, and like enough to consent. What

would you say to me now, an I were your very very

Rosalind?

1985

ORLANDO

I would kiss before I spoke.

ROSALIND

Nay, you were better speak first, and when you

were graveled for lack of matter, you might take occasion

to kiss. Very good orators, when they are out,

they will spit; and for lovers lacking -- God warn us! --

1990

matter, the cleanliest shift is to kiss.

ORLANDO

How if the kiss be denied?

ROSALIND

Then she puts you to entreaty, and there begins

new matter.

ORLANDO

Who could be out, being before his beloved

1995

mistress?

ROSALIND

Marry, that should you, if I were your mistress,

or I should think my honesty ranker than my wit.

ORLANDO

What, of my suit?

ROSALIND

Not out of your apparel, and yet out of your

2000

suit.

Am not I your Rosalind?

ORLANDO

I take some joy to say you are, because I would

be talking of her.

ROSALIND

Well, in her person, I say I will not have you.

2005

ORLANDO

Then, in mine own person, I die.

ROSALIND

No, faith, die by attorney. The poor world is

almost six thousand years old, and in all this time there

was not any man died in his own person, videlicet, in

a love-cause. Troilus had his brains dashed out with a

2010

Grecian club, yet he did what he could to die before,

and he is one of the patterns of love. Leander, he would

have lived many a fair year though Hero had turned

nun, if it had not been for a hot midsummer night; for,

good youth, he went but forth to wash him in the Hellespont,

2015

and, being taken with the cramp, was drowned;

and the foolish chroniclers of that age found it was --

Hero of Sestos. But these are all lies. Men have died

from time to time, and worms have eaten them, but not

for love.

2020

ORLANDO

I would not have my right Rosalind of this mind,

for, I protest, her frown might kill me.

ROSALIND

By this hand, it will not kill a fly. But come,

now I will be your Rosalind in a more coming-on disposition;

and ask me what you will, I will grant it.

2025

ORLANDO

Then love me, Rosalind.

ROSALIND

Yes, faith, will I, Fridays and Saturdays and all.

ORLANDO

And wilt thou have me?

ROSALIND

Ay, and twenty such.

ORLANDO

What sayest thou?

2030

ROSALIND

Are you not good?

ORLANDO

I hope so.

ROSALIND

Why then, can one desire too much of a

good thing? -- Come, sister, you shall be the priest,

and marry us. -- Give me your hand, Orlando. -- What do you

2035

say, sister?

ORLANDO

Pray thee, marry us.

CELIA

I cannot say the words.

ROSALIND

You must begin "Will you, Orlando --"

CELIA

Go to. -- Will you, Orlando, have to wife this

2040

Rosalind?

ORLANDO

I will.

ROSALIND

Ay, but when?

ORLANDO

Why, now, as fast as she can marry us.

ROSALIND

Then you must say, "I take thee, Rosalind, for

2045

wife."

ORLANDO

I take thee, Rosalind, for wife.

ROSALIND

I might ask you for your commission;

but I do take thee, Orlando, for my husband. There's a

girl goes before the priest; and, certainly, a woman's

2050

thought runs before her actions.

ORLANDO

So do all thoughts; they are winged.

ROSALIND

Now tell me how long you would have her, after

you have possessed her.

ORLANDO

For ever and a day.

2055

ROSALIND

Say "a day" without the "ever." No, no, Orlando, men

are April when they woo, December when they wed;

maids are May when they are maids, but the sky changes

when they are wives. I will be more jealous of

thee than a Barbary cock-pigeon over his hen, more clamorous

2060

than a parrot against rain, more newfangled

than an ape, more giddy in my desires than a monkey.

I will weep for nothing, like Diana in the fountain,

and I will do that when you are disposed to be merry;

I will laugh like a hyena, and that when thou art inclined

2065

to sleep.

ORLANDO

But will my Rosalind do so?

ROSALIND

By my life, she will do as I do.

ORLANDO

Oh, but she is wise.

ROSALIND

Or else she could not have the wit to do this.

2070

The wiser, the waywarder. Make the doors upon a woman's

wit, and it will out at the casement; shut that, and

'twill out at the key-hole; stop that, 'twill fly with the

smoke out at the chimney.

ORLANDO

A man that had a wife with such a wit, he might

2075

say, "Wit, whither wilt?'"

ROSALIND

Nay, you might keep that check for it till you

met your wife's wit going to your neighbor's bed.

ORLANDO

And what wit could wit have to excuse that?

ROSALIND

Marry, to say she came to seek you there. You

2080

shall never take her without her answer, unless you take her

without her tongue. Oh, that woman that cannot

make her fault her husband's occasion, let her never nurse

her child herself, for she will breed it like a fool!

ORLANDO

For these two hours, Rosalind, I will leave thee.

2085

ROSALIND

Alas, dear love, I cannot lack thee two hours!

ORLANDO

I must attend the Duke at dinner. By two o'clock

I will be with thee again.

ROSALIND

Ay, go your ways, go your ways. I knew what

you would prove; my friends told me as much, and I

2090

thought no less. That flattering tongue of yours won

me. 'Tis but one cast away, and so, come death! Two o'clock

is your hour?

ORLANDO

Ay, sweet Rosalind.

ROSALIND

By my troth, and in good earnest, and

2095

so God mend me, and by all pretty oaths that are not dangerous,

if you break one jot of your promise, or come one

minute behind your hour, I will think you the most

pathetical break-promise, and the most hollow lover,

and the most unworthy of her you call Rosalind, that

2100

may be chosen out of the gross band of the unfaithful.

Therefore beware my censure, and keep your

promise.

ORLANDO

With no less religion than if thou wert indeed

my Rosalind. So, adieu.

2105

ROSALIND

Well, Time is the old justice that examines all

such offenders, and let Time try. Adieu.

'' Exit [Orlando]. ''

CELIA

You have simply misused our sex in your love-prate.

We must have your doublet and hose plucked over

your head, and show the world what the bird hath done

2110

to her own nest.

ROSALIND

Oh, coz, coz, coz, my pretty little coz, that thou

didst know how many fathom deep I am in love! But

it cannot be sounded; my affection hath an unknown

bottom, like the Bay of Portugal.

2115

CELIA

Or rather, bottomless, that as fast as you pour

affection in, it runs out.

ROSALIND

No, that same wicked bastard of Venus, that was

begot of thought, conceived of spleen, and born of

madness, that blind rascally boy that abuses everyone's

2120

eyes because his own are out, let him be judge

how deep I am in love. I'll tell thee, Aliena, I cannot be

out of the sight of Orlando. I'll go find a shadow, and

sigh till he come.

CELIA

And I'll sleep.

Exeunt.

2125

 [4.2] 

'' Enter Jaques and Lords, [outfitted as] foresters. ''

JAQUES

Which is he that killed the deer?

FIRST LORD

Sir, it was I.

JAQUES

Let's present him to the Duke, like a Roman conqueror;

2130

and it would do well to set the deer's

horns upon his head for a branch of victory. Have you

no song, forester, for this purpose?

SECOND LORD

Yes, sir.

JAQUES

Sing it. 'Tis no matter how it be in tune, so it

2135

make noise enough.

Music.

SONG.

SECOND LORD

 [Sings]  What shall he have that killed the deer?

His leather skin and horns to wear.

_Then sing him home. (The rest shall bear this burden:)

2140

Take thou no scorn to wear the horn;

It was a crest ere thou wast born.

_Thy father's father wore it;

_And thy father bore it. (The rest shall bear this burden:)

The horn, the horn, the lusty horn,

2145

Is not a thing to laugh to scorn.

Exeunt.

 [4.3] 

Enter Rosalind and Celia.

ROSALIND

How say you now? Is it not past two o'clock?

And here much Orlando!

2150

CELIA

I warrant you, with pure love and troubled brain

'' Enter Silvius [with a letter]. ''

he hath ta'en his bow and arrows and is gone forth --

to sleep. Look who comes here.

SILVIUS

 [To Rosalind]  My errand is to you, fair youth.

2155

My gentle Phoebe did bid me give you this.  [He gives the letter.] 

I know not the contents, but, as I guess,

By the stern brow and waspish action

Which she did use as she was writing of it,

It bears an angry tenor. Pardon me,

2160

I am but as a guiltless messenger.

ROSALIND

 [Examining the letter]  Patience herself would startle at this letter

And play the swaggerer. Bear this, bear all!

She says I am not fair, that I lack manners;

She calls me proud, and that she could not love me

2165

Were man as rare as Phoenix. 'Od's my will!

Her love is not the hare that I do hunt.

Why writes she so to me? Well, shepherd, well,

This is a letter of your own device.

SILVIUS

No, I protest, I know not the contents.

And turned into the extremity of love.

I saw her hand; she has a leathern hand,

A freestone-colored hand. I verily did think

2175

That her old gloves were on, but 'twas her hands;

She has a huswife's hand -- but that's no matter.

I say she never did invent this letter;

This is a man's invention, and his hand.

SILVIUS

Sure it is hers.

2180

ROSALIND

Why, 'tis a boisterous and a cruel style,

A style for challengers. Why, she defies me,

Like Turk to Christian. Women's gentle brain

Could not drop forth such giant-rude invention,

Such Ethiop words, blacker in their effect

2185

Than in their countenance. Will you hear the letter?

SILVIUS

So please you, for I never heard it yet;

Yet heard too much of Phoebe's cruelty.

ROSALIND

She Phoebes me. Mark how the tyrant writes. (Read)

"Art thou god to shepherd turned,

2190

That a maiden's heart hath burned?"

Can a woman rail thus?

SILVIUS

Call you this railing?

ROSALIND

(Read)

"Why, thy godhead laid apart,

Warr'st thou with a woman's heart?"

2195

Did you ever hear such railing?

"Whiles the eye of man did woo me,

That could do no vengeance to me."

Meaning me a beast.

"If the scorn of your bright eyne

2200

Have power to raise such love in mine,

Alack, in me what strange effect

Would they work in mild aspect!

Whiles you chid me, I did love;

How then might your prayers move!

2205

He that brings this love to thee

Little knows this love in me;

And by him seal up thy mind,

Whether that thy youth and kind

Will the faithful offer take

2210

Of me and all that I can make;

Or else by him my love deny,

And then I'll study how to die."

SILVIUS

Call you this chiding?

CELIA

Alas, poor shepherd!

2215

ROSALIND

Do you pity him? No, he deserves no pity.

Wilt thou love such a woman? What, to make thee an instrument,

and play false strains upon thee! Not to be endured!

Well, go your way to her, for I see love hath

made thee a tame snake, and say this to her: that if she

2220

love me, I charge her to love thee; if she will not, I will

never have her unless thou entreat for her. If you be a

true lover, hence, and not a word; for here comes more

company.

Exit Silvius.

Enter Oliver.

2225

OLIVER

Good morrow, fair ones. Pray you, if you know,

Where in the purlieus of this forest stands

A sheepcote fenced about with olive trees?

CELIA

West of this place, down in the neighbor bottom,

The rank of osiers by the murmuring stream

2230

Left on your right hand brings you to the place.

But at this hour the house doth keep itself;

There's none within.

OLIVER

If that an eye may profit by a tongue,

Then should I know you by description,

2235

Such garments, and such years: "The boy is fair,

Of female favor, and bestows himself

Like a ripe sister; the woman, low

And browner than her brother." Are not you

The owner of the house I did inquire for?

2240

CELIA

It is no boast, being asked, to say we are.

OLIVER

Orlando doth commend him to you both,

And to that youth he calls his Rosalind

He sends this bloody napkin. Are you he?

 [He produces a bloody handkerchief.] 

ROSALIND

I am. What must we understand by this?

2245

OLIVER

Some of my shame, if you will know of me

What man I am, and how, and why, and where

OLIVER

When last the young Orlando parted from you,

2250

He left a promise to return again

Within an hour; and, pacing through the forest,

Chewing the food of sweet and bitter fancy,

Lo, what befell! He threw his eye aside,

And mark what object did present itself.

2255

Under an old oak, whose boughs were mossed with age

And high top bald with dry antiquity,

A wretched ragged man, o'ergrown with hair,

Lay sleeping on his back. About his neck

A green and gilded snake had wreathed itself,

2260

Who with her head, nimble in threats, approached

The opening of his mouth; but suddenly,

Seeing Orlando, it unlinked itself

And with indented glides did slip away

Into a bush, under which bush's shade

2265

A lioness, with udders all drawn dry,

Lay couching, head on ground, with catlike watch,

When that the sleeping man should stir; for 'tis

The royal disposition of that beast

To prey on nothing that doth seem as dead.

2270

This seen, Orlando did approach the man,

And found it was his brother, his elder brother.

CELIA

Oh, I have heard him speak of that same brother,

And he did render him the most unnatural

For well I know he was unnatural.

ROSALIND

But to Orlando: did he leave him there,

Food to the sucked and hungry lioness?

OLIVER

Twice did he turn his back, and purposed so;

2280

But kindness, nobler ever than revenge,

And nature, stronger than his just occasion,

Made him give battle to the lioness,

Who quickly fell before him; in which hurtling

From miserable slumber I awaked.

CELIA

Was't you that did so oft contrive to kill him?

OLIVER

'Twas I; but 'tis not I. I do not shame

To tell you what I was, since my conversion

2290

So sweetly tastes, being the thing I am.

When from the first to last, betwixt us two,

Tears our recountments had most kindly bathed,

2295

As how I came into that desert place,

In brief, he led me to the gentle Duke,

Who gave me fresh array and entertainment,

Committing me unto my brother's love;

Who led me instantly unto his cave,

2300

There stripped himself, and here upon his arm

The lioness had torn some flesh away,

Which all this while had bled; and now he fainted,

And cried, in fainting, upon Rosalind.

Brief, I recovered him, bound up his wound,

2305

And after some small space, being strong at heart,

He sent me hither, stranger as I am,

To tell this story, that you might excuse

His broken promise, and to give this napkin,

Dyed in this blood, unto the shepherd youth

2310

That he in sport doth call his Rosalind.

 [Rosalind swoons.] 

CELIA

Why, how now, Ganymede, sweet Ganymede!

OLIVER

Many will swoon when they do look on blood.

CELIA

There is more in it. -- Cousin Ganymede!

OLIVER

Look, he recovers.

2315

ROSALIND

I would I were at home.

CELIA

We'll lead you thither. --

I pray you, will you take him by the arm?

 [They help Rosalind up.] 

OLIVER

Be of good cheer, youth. You a man?

You lack a man's heart.

2320

ROSALIND

I do so, I confess it.

Ah, sirrah, a body would think this was well counterfeited.

I pray you tell your brother how well I counterfeited.

Heigh-ho!

OLIVER

This was not counterfeit. There is too great testimony

2325

in your complexion that it was a passion of earnest.

ROSALIND

Counterfeit, I assure you.

OLIVER

Well then, take a good heart and counterfeit to

be a man.

2330

ROSALIND

So I do; but, i'faith, I should have been a

woman by right.

CELIA

Come, you look paler and paler. Pray you, draw

homewards. -- Good sir, go with us.

OLIVER

That will I, for I must bear answer back

2335

How you excuse my brother, Rosalind.

ROSALIND

I shall devise something. But, I pray you, commend

my counterfeiting to him. Will you go?

Exeunt.

 [5.1] 

2340

Enter Touchstone and Audrey.

TOUCHSTONE

We shall find a time, Audrey. Patience, gentle

Audrey.

AUDREY

Faith, the priest was good enough, for all

the old gentleman's saying.

2345

TOUCHSTONE

A most wicked Sir Oliver, Audrey, a most vile

Mar-text. But Audrey, there is a youth here in the

forest lays claim to you.

AUDREY

Ay, I know who 'tis. He hath no interest in me

in the world. Here comes the man you mean.

2350

Enter William.

TOUCHSTONE

It is meat and drink to me to see a clown. By

my troth, we that have good wits have much to answer

for. We shall be flouting; we cannot hold.

WILLIAM

Good ev'n, Audrey.

2355

AUDREY

God ye good ev'n, William.

WILLIAM

And good ev'n to you, sir.

 [He removes his hat.] 

TOUCHSTONE

Good ev'n, gentle friend. Cover thy head, cover

thy head. Nay, prithee be covered. How old are you,

friend?

2360

WILLIAM

Five-and-twenty, sir.

TOUCHSTONE

A ripe age. Is thy name William?

WILLIAM

William, sir.

TOUCHSTONE

A fair name. Wast born i'th'forest here?

WILLIAM

Ay, sir, I thank God.

2365

TOUCHSTONE

"Thank God" -- a good answer.

Art rich?

WILLIAM

Faith, sir, so-so.

TOUCHSTONE

"So-so" is good, very good, very excellent good;

and yet it is not; it is but so-so.

2370

Art thou wise?

WILLIAM

Ay, sir, I have a pretty wit.

TOUCHSTONE

Why, thou say'st well. I do now remember a saying:

"The fool doth think he is wise, but the wise man

knows himself to be a fool." The heathen philosopher,

2375

when he had a desire to eat a grape, would open

his lips when he put it into his mouth, meaning thereby

that grapes were made to eat and lips to open.

You do love this maid?

WILLIAM

I do, sir.

2380

TOUCHSTONE

Give me your hand. Art thou learned?

WILLIAM

No, sir.

TOUCHSTONE

Then learn this of me: to have is to have. For

it is a figure in rhetoric that drink, being poured out

of a cup into a glass, by filling the one doth empty the

2385

other; for all your writers do consent that ipse is he.

Now, you are not ipse, for I am he.

WILLIAM

Which he, sir?

TOUCHSTONE

He, sir, that must marry this woman. Therefore,

you clown, abandon -- which is in the vulgar "leave" -- the

2390

society -- which in the boorish is "company" -- of this female --

which in the common is "woman"; which together

is: abandon the society of this female, or, clown,

thou perishest; or, to thy better understanding, diest; or,

to wit, I kill thee, make thee away, translate thy life into

2395

death, thy liberty into bondage. I will deal in poison

with thee, or in bastinado, or in steel; I will bandy

with thee in faction, I will o'er-run thee with policy; I

will kill thee a hundred and fifty ways. Therefore tremble

and depart.

2400

AUDREY

Do, good William.

WILLIAM

God rest you merry, sir.

Exit.

Enter Corin.

CORIN

Our master and mistress seeks you. Come away,

away!

2405

TOUCHSTONE

Trip, Audrey, trip, Audrey! -- I attend,

I attend.

Exeunt.

 [5.2] 

Enter Orlando and Oliver.

ORLANDO

Is't possible that on so little acquaintance you

2410

should like her? That, but seeing, you should love her?

And loving, woo? And, wooing, she should grant? And

will you persevere to enjoy her?

OLIVER

Neither call the giddiness of it in question, the

poverty of her, the small acquaintance, my sudden wooing,

2415

nor her sudden consenting; but say with me, "I love

Aliena"; say with her that she loves me; consent with both

that we may enjoy each other. It shall be to your

good; for my father's house and all the revenue that

was old Sir Rowland's will I estate upon you, and here

2420

live and die a shepherd.

Enter Rosalind.

ORLANDO

You have my consent.

Let your wedding be tomorrow. Thither will I

invite the Duke and all 's contented followers.

2425

Go you and prepare Aliena; for, look you,

here comes my Rosalind.

ROSALIND

God save you, brother.

OLIVER

And you, fair sister.

 [Exit.] 

ROSALIND

O my dear Orlando, how it grieves me to see

2430

thee wear thy heart in a scarf!

ORLANDO

It is my arm.

ROSALIND

I thought thy heart had been wounded with

the claws of a lion.

ORLANDO

Wounded it is, but with the eyes of a lady.

2435

ROSALIND

Did your brother tell you how I counterfeited

to swoon when he showed me your handkerchief?

ORLANDO

Ay, and greater wonders than that.

ROSALIND

Oh, I know where you are. Nay, 'tis true. There

was never anything so sudden but the fight of two rams

2440

and Caesar's thrasonical brag of "I came, saw,

and overcame." For your brother and my sister no sooner met

but they looked; no sooner looked but they

loved; no sooner loved but they sighed; no sooner sighed

but they asked one another the reason; no sooner knew

2445

the reason but they sought the remedy; and in these

degrees have they made a pair of stairs to marriage,

which they will climb incontinent, or else be incontinent

before marriage. They are in the very wrath of

love, and they will together. Clubs cannot part

2450

them.

ORLANDO

They shall be married tomorrow; and I will

bid the Duke to the nuptial. But, oh, how bitter a thing

it is to look into happiness through another man's eyes!

By so much the more shall I tomorrow be at the height

2455

of heart-heaviness, by how much I shall think my brother

happy in having what he wishes for.

ROSALIND

Why, then, tomorrow I cannot serve your turn

for Rosalind?

ORLANDO

I can live no longer by thinking.

2460

ROSALIND

I will weary you, then, no longer with idle talking.

Know of me, then -- for now I speak to some purpose --

that I know you are a gentleman of good conceit.

I speak not this that you should bear a good opinion

of my knowledge, insomuch I say I know you are; neither

2465

do I labor for a greater esteem than may in some

little measure draw a belief from you to do yourself

good, and not to grace me. Believe then, if you please,

that I can do strange things. I have, since I was three

year old, conversed with a magician, most profound in

2470

his art and yet not damnable. If you do love Rosalind

so near the heart as your gesture cries it out, when your

brother marries Aliena shall you marry her. I know into

what straits of fortune she is driven, and it is not impossible

to me, if it appear not inconvenient to you,

2475

to set her before your eyes tomorrow, human as she is,

and without any danger.

ORLANDO

Speak'st thou in sober meanings?

ROSALIND

By my life, I do, which I tender dearly, though

I say I am a magician. Therefore put you in your best array,

2480

bid your friends; for if you will be married tomorrow,

you shall; and to Rosalind, if you will.

Enter Silvius and Phoebe.

Look, here comes a lover of mine, and a lover of hers.

PHOEBE

 [To Rosalind]  Youth, you have done me much ungentleness

2485

To show the letter that I writ to you.

ROSALIND

I care not if I have. It is my study

To seem despiteful and ungentle to you.

You are there followed by a faithful shepherd;

Look upon him, love him; he worships you.

2490

PHOEBE

 [To Silvius]  Good shepherd, tell this youth what 'tis to love.

SILVIUS

It is to be all made of sighs and tears;

And so am I for Phoebe.

PHOEBE

And I for Ganymede.

ORLANDO

And I for Rosalind.

2495

ROSALIND

And I for no woman.

SILVIUS

It is to be all made of faith and service;

And so am I for Phoebe.

PHOEBE

And I for Ganymede.

ORLANDO

And I for Rosalind.

2500

ROSALIND

And I for no woman.

SILVIUS

It is to be all made of fantasy,

All made of passion, and all made of wishes;

All adoration, duty, and observance,

All humbleness, all patience and impatience,

2505

All purity, all trial, all obedience;

And so am I for Phoebe.

PHOEBE

And so am I for Ganymede.

ORLANDO

And so am I for Rosalind.

ROSALIND

And so am I for no woman.

2510

PHOEBE

 [To Rosalind]  If this be so, why blame you me to love you?

SILVIUS

 [To Phoebe]  If this be so, why blame you me to love you?

ORLANDO

If this be so, why blame you me to love you?

ROSALIND

Why do you speak too, "Why blame you me

to love you?"

2515

ORLANDO

To her that is not here, nor doth not hear.

ROSALIND

Pray you, no more of this; 'tis like the howling

of Irish wolves against the moon.  [To Silvius] I will help you

if I can. [To Phoebe] I would love you if I could. -- Tomorrow meet

me all together. [To Phoebe] I will marry you if ever I marry woman,

2520

and I'll be married tomorrow. [To Orlando] I will satisfy you

if ever I satisfied man, and you shall be married tomorrow.

 [To Silvius] I will content you if what pleases you contents

you, and you shall be married tomorrow. [To Orlando] As you love

Rosalind, meet. [To Silvius] As you love Phoebe, meet. And as I love no

2525

woman, I'll meet. So, fare you well. I have left you

commands.

SILVIUS

I'll not fail, if I live.

PHOEBE

Nor I.

ORLANDO

Nor I.

Exeunt.

2530

 [5.3] 

'' Enter [Touchstone the] Clown and Audrey. ''

TOUCHSTONE

Tomorrow is the joyful day, Audrey; tomorrow

will we be married.

AUDREY

I do desire it with all my heart; and I hope it is

2535

no dishonest desire to desire to be a woman of the world.

Here come two of the banished Duke's pages.

Enter two Pages.

FIRST PAGE

Well met, honest gentleman.

TOUCHSTONE

By my troth, well met. Come sit, sit, and a song.

 [They sit.] 

2540

SECOND PAGE

We are for you. Sit i'th' middle.

FIRST PAGE

Shall we clap into't roundly, without hawking,

or spitting, or saying we are hoarse, which are the only prologues to

a bad voice?

SECOND PAGE

I'faith, i'faith, and both in a tune, like two

2545

gypsies on a horse.

Song.

BOTH PAGES

It was a lover and his lass,

_With a hey, and a ho, and a hey nonino,

That o'er the green corn-field did pass

2550

_In spring time, the only pretty ring time,

When birds do sing, hey ding a ding, ding.

Sweet lovers love the spring.

Between the acres of the rye,

_With a hey, and a ho, and a hey nonino,

These pretty country folks would lie,

2560

_In spring time, the only pretty ring time,

When birds do sing, hey ding a ding, ding.

Sweet lovers love the spring.

This carol they began that hour,

_With a hey, and a ho, and a hey nonino,

How that a life was but a flower,

_In spring time, the only pretty ring time,

When birds do sing, hey ding a ding, ding.

Sweet lovers love the spring.

And therefore take the present time,

_With a hey, and a ho, and a hey nonino,

2555

For love is crownèd with the prime,

_In spring time, the only pretty ring time,

When birds do sing, hey ding a ding, ding.

Sweet lovers love the spring.

2565

TOUCHSTONE

Truly, young gentlemen, though there was no

great matter in the ditty, yet the note was very untuneable.

FIRST PAGE

You are deceived, sir; we kept time, we lost not

our time.

TOUCHSTONE

By my troth, yes; I count it but time lost to hear

2570

such a foolish song. God b'wi' you, and God mend your

voices. -- Come, Audrey.

'' Exeunt [the Pages one way, Touchstone and Audrey another]. ''

 [5.4] 

Enter Duke Senior, Amiens, Jaques, Orlando,

'' Oliver, [and] Celia. ''

2575

DUKE SENIOR

Dost thou believe, Orlando, that the boy

Can do all this that he hath promised?

ORLANDO

I sometimes do believe and sometimes do not,

As those that fear they hope, and know they fear.

Enter Rosalind, Silvius, and Phoebe.

2580

ROSALIND

Patience once more, whiles our compact is urged.  [To the Duke] 

You say, if I bring in your Rosalind,

You will bestow her on Orlando here?

DUKE SENIOR

That would I, had I kingdoms to give with her.

ROSALIND

 [To Orlando]  And you say you will have her when I bring her?

2585

ORLANDO

That would I, were I of all kingdoms king.

ROSALIND

 [To Phoebe]  You say you'll marry me, if I be willing?

PHOEBE

That will I, should I die the hour after.

ROSALIND

But if you do refuse to marry me,

You'll give yourself to this most faithful shepherd?

2590

PHOEBE

So is the bargain.

ROSALIND

 [To Silvius]  You say that you'll have Phoebe if she will?

SILVIUS

Though to have her and death were both one

thing.

ROSALIND

I have promised to make all this matter even.

2595

Keep you your word, O Duke, to give your daughter;

You yours, Orlando, to receive his daughter;

Keep you your word, Phoebe, that you'll marry me,

Or else, refusing me, to wed this shepherd;

Keep your word, Silvius, that you'll marry her

2600

If she refuse me; and from hence I go,

To make these doubts all even.

Exeunt Rosalind and Celia.

DUKE SENIOR

I do remember in this shepherd boy

Some lively touches of my daughter's favor.

ORLANDO

My lord, the first time that I ever saw him

2605

Methought he was a brother to your daughter.

But, my good lord, this boy is forest-born,

And hath been tutored in the rudiments

Of many desperate studies by his uncle,

Whom he reports to be a great magician,

2610

'' Enter [Touchstone the] Clown and Audrey. ''

Obscurèd in the circle of this forest.

JAQUES

There is, sure, another flood toward, and these

couples are coming to the ark. Here comes a pair

of very strange beasts, which in all tongues are called

2615

fools.

TOUCHSTONE

Salutation and greeting to you all!

JAQUES

 [To the Duke]  Good my lord, bid him welcome. This is the

motley-minded gentleman that I have so often met in

the forest. He hath been a courtier, he swears.

2620

TOUCHSTONE

If any man doubt that, let him put me to my

purgation. I have trod a measure; I have flattered a lady;

I have been politic with my friend, smooth with mine

enemy; I have undone three tailors; I have had four

quarrels, and like to have fought one.

2625

JAQUES

And how was that ta'en up?

TOUCHSTONE

Faith, we met, and found the quarrel was upon

the seventh cause.

JAQUES

How seventh cause? -- Good my lord, like this

fellow.

2630

DUKE SENIOR

I like him very well.

TOUCHSTONE

God 'ild you, sir, I desire you of the like. I press

in here, sir, amongst the rest of the country copulatives,

to swear and to forswear, according as marriage binds

and blood breaks. A poor virgin, sir, an ill-favored thing,

2635

sir, but mine own; a poor humor of mine, sir, to take

that that no man else will. Rich honesty dwells like a miser,

sir, in a poor house, as your pearl in your foul

oyster.

DUKE SENIOR

By my faith, he is very swift and sententious.

2640

TOUCHSTONE

According to the fool's bolt, sir, and such

dulcet diseases.

JAQUES

But for the seventh cause. How did you find

the quarrel on the seventh cause?

TOUCHSTONE

Upon a lie seven times removed -- bear your

2645

body more seeming, Audrey -- as thus, sir. I did dislike the

cut of a certain courtier's beard. He sent me word, if I

said his beard was not cut well, he was in the mind it

was. This is called the Retort Courteous. If I sent him

word again it was not well cut, he would send me word

2650

he cut it to please himself. This is called the Quip Modest.

If again it was not well cut, he disabled my judgment.

This is called the Reply Churlish. If again it was not well

cut, he would answer I spake not true. This is called the

Reproof Valiant. If again it was not well cut, he would

2655

say I lie. This is called the Countercheck Quarrelsome.

And so to the Lie Circumstantial and the Lie Direct.

JAQUES

And how oft did you say his beard was not well

cut?

TOUCHSTONE

I durst go no further than the Lie Circumstantial,

2660

nor he durst not give me the Lie Direct; and so we

measured swords and parted.

JAQUES

Can you nominate in order now the degrees of

the lie?

TOUCHSTONE

Oh, sir, we quarrel in print, by the book, as you

2665

have books for good manners. I will name you the degrees.

The first, the Retort Courteous; the second, the

Quip Modest; the third, the Reply Churlish; the fourth,

the Reproof Valiant; the fifth, the Countercheck Quarrelsome;

the sixth, the Lie with Circumstance; the seventh,

2670

the Lie Direct. All these you may avoid but the

Lie Direct; and you may avoid that too, with an If. I

knew when seven justices could not take up a quarrel, but

when the parties were met themselves, one of them

thought but of an If, as: "If you said so, then I said so";

2675

and they shook hands, and swore brothers. Your If is

the only peace-maker; much virtue in If.

JAQUES

 [To the Duke]  Is not this a rare fellow, my lord? He's as good

at anything, and yet a fool.

DUKE SENIOR

He uses his folly like a stalking-horse, and under

2680

the presentation of that he shoots his wit.

Enter Hymen, Rosalind, and Celia.

'' Still music. [Rosalind and Celia are no longer disguised.] ''

HYMEN

Then is there mirth in heaven,

When earthly things made even

2685

_Atone together.

Good Duke, receive thy daughter;

Hymen from heaven brought her,

_Yea, brought her hither,

That thou mightst join her hand with his,

2690

Whose heart within his bosom is.

ROSALIND

 [To the Duke]  To you I give myself, for I am yours.  [To Orlando] 

To you I give myself, for I am yours.

DUKE SENIOR

If there be truth in sight, you are my daughter.

ORLANDO

If there be truth in sight, you are my Rosalind.

2695

PHOEBE

If sight and shape be true,

Why then, my love adieu!

ROSALIND

 [To the Duke]  I'll have no father, if you be not he;  [To Orlando] 

I'll have no husband, if you be not he;  [To Phoebe] 

Nor ne'er wed woman, if you be not she.

HYMEN

Peace, ho! I bar confusion.

2700

'Tis I must make conclusion

_Of these most strange events.

Here's eight that must take hands

To join in Hymen's bands,

_If truth holds true contents.  [To Orlando and Rosalind] 

2705

You and you no cross shall part.  [To Oliver and Celia] 

You and you are heart in heart.  [To Phoebe] 

You to his love must accord,

Or have a woman to your lord.  [To Touchstone and Audrey] 

You and you are sure together,

2710

As the winter to foul weather.  [To All] 

Whiles a wedlock hymn we sing,

Feed yourselves with questioning,

That reason wonder may diminish,

How thus we met, and these things finish.

2715

SONG.

Wedding is great Juno's crown,

_O blessèd bond of board and bed!

'Tis Hymen peoples every town;

_High wedlock then be honorèd.

2720

Honor, high honor and renown

_To Hymen, god of every town!

DUKE SENIOR

 [To Celia]  O my dear niece, welcome thou art to me!

Even daughter, welcome, in no less degree.

PHOEBE

 [To Silvius]  I will not eat my word, now thou art mine;

2725

Thy faith my fancy to thee doth combine.

'' Enter Second Brother [Jaques de Boys]. ''

JAQUES DE BOYS

Let me have audience for a word or two.

I am the second son of old Sir Rowland,

That bring these tidings to this fair assembly.

2730

Duke Frederick, hearing how that every day

Men of great worth resorted to this forest,

Addressed a mighty power, which were on foot

In his own conduct, purposely to take

His brother here, and put him to the sword;

2735

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 banished brother,

2740

And all their lands restored to them again

That were with him exiled. This to be true

Thou offer'st fairly to thy brothers' wedding:

2745

To one his lands withheld, and to the other

A land itself at large, a potent dukedom.

First, in this forest let us do those ends

That here were well begun and well begot;

And after, every of this happy number

2750

That have endured shrewd days and nights with us

Shall share the good of our returnèd fortune,

According to the measure of their states.

Meantime, forget this new-fall'n dignity,

And fall into our rustic revelry.

2755

Play, music! And you brides and bridegrooms all,

With measure heaped in joy, to th' measures fall.

JAQUES

Sir, by your patience.  [To Jaques de Boys]  If I heard you rightly,

The Duke hath put on a religious life,

And thrown into neglect the pompous court.

2760

JAQUES DE BOYS

He hath.

JAQUES

To him will I. Out of these convertites

There is much matter to be heard and learned.  [To the Duke] 

You to your former honor I bequeath;

Your patience and your virtue well deserves it.  [To Orlando] 

2765

You to a love that your true faith doth merit;  [To Oliver] 

You to your land and love and great allies;  [To Silvius] 

You to a long and well-deservèd bed;  [To Touchstone] 

And you to wrangling, for thy loving voyage

Is but for two months victualled. -- So to your pleasures;

2770

I am for other than for dancing measures.

DUKE SENIOR

Stay, Jaques, stay!

JAQUES

To see no pastime, I. What you would have

I'll stay to know at your abandoned cave.

Exit.

DUKE SENIOR

Proceed, proceed. We'll begin these rites,

2775

As we do trust they'll end, in true delights.

'' [They dance.] Exeunt [all but Rosalind]. ''

ROSALIND

It is not the fashion to see the lady the epilogue;

but it is no more unhandsome than to see the

lord the prologue. If it be true that good wine needs

no bush, 'tis true that a good play needs no epilogue.

2780

Yet to good wine they do use good bushes, and good

plays prove the better by the help of good epilogues.

What a case am I in then, that am neither a good epilogue,

nor cannot insinuate with you in the behalf of a

good play! I am not furnished like a beggar; therefore

2785

to beg will not become me. My way is to conjure

you, and I'll begin with the women. I charge you, O

women, for the love you bear to men, to like as much

of this play as please you; and I charge you, O men,

for the love you bear to women -- as I perceive by your

2790

simpering, none of you hates them -- that between you

and the women the play may please. If I were a woman,

I would kiss as many of you as had beards that

pleased me, complexions that liked me, and breaths that

I defied not; and, I am sure, as many as have good

2795

beards, or good faces, or sweet breaths, will, for my kind

offer, when I make curtsy, bid me farewell.

Exit.