As You Like It (Modern)
Peer Reviewed
¶[3.2]
1200
Enter Orlando [with a paper].
¶_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.1205O 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 tree1210The 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 1215naught. 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 1220more 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 1225the 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.
¶Corin No, truly.
¶Touchstone Then thou art damned.
¶Corin Nay, I hope.
¶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, 1240then 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 1245the 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.
¶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. 1255Come.
¶Corin Besides, our hands are hard.
¶Corin And they are often tarred over with the surgery 1260of 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 1265very 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.
1270Corin 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.
1275Touchstone 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 1280reasonable match. If thou beest not damned for this, ¶the devil himself will have no shepherds; I cannot see else ¶how thou shouldst scape.
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.1290All 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, 1295and 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,1300Let him seek out Rosalind.¶If the cat will after kind,¶So be sure will Rosalind.¶Wintered garments must be lined,¶So must slender Rosalind.1305They 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 find1310Must find love's prick and Rosalind.
¶Rosalind Peace, you dull fool! I found them on a tree.
¶Touchstone Truly, the tree yields bad fruit.
1315Rosalind 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.
¶
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.1325Tongues 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 span1330_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,1335Will I "Rosalinda" write,¶_Teaching all that read to know¶The quintessence of every sprite¶_Heaven would in little show.¶Therefore heaven Nature charged1340_That one body should be filled¶With all graces wide-enlarged.¶_Nature presently distilled¶Helen's cheek, but not her heart,¶_Cleopatra's majesty,1345Atalanta's better part,¶_Sad Lucretia's modesty.¶Thus Rosalind of many parts¶_By heavenly synod was devised¶Of many faces, eyes, and hearts1350_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 1355never cried "Have patience, good people!"
¶Touchstone [To Corin] Come, shepherd, let us make an honorable retreat, ¶though not with bag and baggage, yet with 1360scrip 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.
1365Celia 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 1370thy 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.]
1375Celia Trow you who hath done this?
¶Rosalind Is it a man?
¶Rosalind I prithee, who?
1380Celia 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?
¶Celia Oh, wonderful, wonderful, most wonderful ¶wonderful, and yet again wonderful, and after that, ¶out of all hooping!
1390Rosalind 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 1395mightst 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.
1400Rosalind 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 1405delay 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.
1410Celia 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 1415he? 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 1425he 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.
¶Celia Give me audience, good madam.
¶Rosalind Proceed.
¶Celia Cry "Holla" to thy tongue, I prithee; it curvets ¶unseasonably. He was furnished like a hunter.
1440Rosalind Oh, ominous! He comes to kill my heart.
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.]
1450Orlando 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 Rosalind is your love's name?
Orlando Yes, just.
¶Jaques I do not like her name.
¶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 1465with 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 1470we two will rail against our mistress the world, and all ¶our misery.
¶Jaques The worst fault you have is to be in love.
¶Jaques There I shall see mine own figure.
¶Orlando Which I take to be either a fool or a cipher.
[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?
1490Rosalind I pray you, what is't o'clock?
¶Rosalind Then there is no true lover in the forest, else ¶sighing every minute and groaning every hour would 1495detect the lazy foot of Time as well as a clock.
¶Rosalind By no means, sir. Time travels in divers paces ¶with divers persons. I'll tell you who Time ambles withal, 1500who 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. 1505If 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 1510he 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.
1515Orlando 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?
1520Rosalind 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 1525skirts of the forest, like fringe upon a petticoat.
¶Orlando Are you native of this place?
¶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 1535against 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.
1540Rosalind 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 1545that 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 1550some good counsel, for he seems to have the quotidian ¶of love upon him.
¶Rosalind There is none of my uncle's marks upon you. 1555He 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, 1560which 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 1565about 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.
1570Rosalind 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 1575trees wherein Rosalind is so admired?
¶Rosalind But are you so much in love as your rhymes speak?
¶Orlando Neither rhyme nor reason can express how much.
1580Rosalind 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.
1585Orlando 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 1590liking, 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; 1595now 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 1600as 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.
¶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?
1610Orlando With all my heart, good youth.
Exeunt.
