Internet Shakespeare Editions

Author: William Shakespeare
Editor: David Bevington
Peer Reviewed

As You Like It (Modern)


As You Like It
1[1.1]
Enter Orlando and Adam.
Orlando As I remember, Adam, it was upon this fashion 5bequeathed 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. 10For 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, 15they 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 20nature 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 25is 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.
30Orlando 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?
35Orlando 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.
40Orlando 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.
45Oliver 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 50born; 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.]
55Orlando 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 60not 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.
65Oliver [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 70of 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.]
75Oliver 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 80for 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.
85Oliver 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?
90Oliver 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 95the wrestling is.
Enter Charles.
Charles Good morrow to Your Worship.
Oliver Good Monsieur Charles, what's the new news at the new court?
100Charles 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; 105therefore 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, 110that 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?
115Charles 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.
120Oliver 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 125in 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 130come 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.
135Oliver 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 140young 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 145dost 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 150tears 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.
155Charles 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. 160I 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 165own 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]
170
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 175learn 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 180hadst 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, 185to 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 190mine 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?
195 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?
200 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 205doth 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: 210Fortune 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 215hath 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.
220Celia 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?225
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?
230Touchstone 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.
235Celia 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.
240Celia 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 245ever 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 250of these days.
Touchstone The more pity that fools may not speak wiselywhat 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 255wise 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 260young.
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, 265you 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.
270Touchstone 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 275you 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 280perform 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 285and 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 290him 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.
295Rosalind 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 300first 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 305rib-breaking? -- Shall we see this wrestling, cousin?
Le BeauYou 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 310and 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.
315Rosalind [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?
320Rosalind 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 325move 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.
330Orlando [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 335of 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 340would 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 345the 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, 350wherein 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 355supplied 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!
360Celia 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.
365Duke 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 370have 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!
375Celia 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.
380Duke Frederick
How dost thou, Charles?
Le Beau
He cannot speak, my lord.
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 385de 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
390Hadst 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?
395Orlando [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.
400Had I before known this young man his son,
I should have given him tears unto entreaties
Ere he should thus have ventured.
Celia
Gentle cousin,
Let us go thank him, and encourage him.
405My 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,
Your mistress shall be happy.
410Rosalind
Gentleman, [Giving him a chain from her neck]
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.]
415Orlando [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?
420Sir, 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?
425I 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
430To 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
435More 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,
440But 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.
445But 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;
450And, 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.]
455Thus 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.
460Celia 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 465with 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?
470Rosalind 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.
475Rosalind 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.
480Rosalind 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, 485you 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 490him, 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.
495Rosalind 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,
And get you from our court.
500Rosalind
Me, uncle?
Duke Frederick
You, cousin.
Within these ten days if that thou be'st found
So near our public court as twenty miles,
Thou diest for it.
505Rosalind
I do beseech Your Grace,
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 --
510As I do trust I am not -- then, dear uncle,
Never so much as in a thought unborn
Did I offend Your Highness.
Duke Frederick
Thus do all traitors.
If their purgation did consist in words,
515They 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.
520Rosalind 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.
525Then, 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.
530Celia 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,
535Rose 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,
540Speak 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
545Which 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,
550And 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.
555Rosalind
I have more cause.
Celia
Thou hast not, cousin.
Prithee be cheerful. Know'st thou not the Duke
Hath banished me, his daughter?
Rosalind
That he hath not.
560Celia 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,
565Whither 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.
570Rosalind 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.
575Celia 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,
And never stir assailants.
Rosalind
Were it not better,
580Because 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 --
585We'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,
590And 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
595The 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,
600Devise 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
610More 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
615Even 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,
620Wears 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,
625That 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,
630Should in their own confines with forkèd heads
Have their round haunches gored.
First Lord
Indeed, my lord,
The melancholy Jaques grieves at that,
And in that kind swears you do more usurp
635Than 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,
640To 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
645Almost 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,
650Augmenting it with tears.
Duke Senior
But what said Jaques?
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
660The 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
665Upon 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,
670To 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
Upon the sobbing deer.
675Duke Senior
Show me the place.
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.
685The 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.
690Hisperia, 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,
695And 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,
700And let not search and inquisition quail
To bring again these foolish runaways.
Exeunt.
[2.3]
Enter Orlando and Adam,[ meeting].
Orlando Who's there?
705Adam 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?
710Why 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?
715No 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!
Orlando
Why, what's the matter?
720Adam
O unhappy youth,
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
725Of 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.
730I 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.
735Orlando 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.
740I 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
745When 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]
750All 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
755The 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.
760Orlando 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,
765And 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.
770But 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.
775From 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
780Than 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!
785Touchstone 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 790courageous 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 795bear 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 800be 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.
805Silvius 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.
810But 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.
815Silvius 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,
820Wearing 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.
825O 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 830coming 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 835tears, "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 840I 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.
845Celia I pray you, one of you question yond man
If he for gold will give us any food.
I faint almost to death.
Touchstone
[To Corin] Holla, you clown!
Rosalind
Peace, fool! He's not thy kinsman.
850Corin
Who calls?
Touchstone
Your betters, sir.
Corin
Else are they very wretched.
Rosalind Peace, I say. -- Good even to you, friend.
Corin And to you, gentle sir, and to you all.
855Rosalind 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 faints for succor.
860Corin
Fair sir, I pity her,
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.
865My 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,
870By 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 875but 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.
880Celia 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
885The 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,
895Come 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.
900Jaques 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.
905Jaques 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 910nothing. 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, 915methinks 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 920day 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. 925Come, warble, come.
Song
Amiens [Sings] Who doth ambition shun,
And loves to live i'th' sun,
Seeking the food he eats,
930And 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.
935Amiens 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,
940Ducdame, 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. 945I'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? 955Live 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 960at 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, 965and 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.] 970Cheerly, 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.
975Amiens 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.
985Jaques 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,
990In 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,
995Says 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,
1000And 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,
1005And 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,
1010And 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
1015In mangled forms. Oh, that I were a fool!
I am ambitious for a motley coat.
Duke Senior
Thou shalt have one.
Jaques
It is my only suit,
Provided that you weed your better judgments
1020Of 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,
1025They 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,
1030The 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,
1035If 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,
1040As 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
1045That 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
1050The 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,
1055Thinking 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,
1060Why 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.
1065Orlando 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?
1070Orlando 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
1075Till 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 1080move 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,
1085And 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;
1090If 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,
1095Let 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
1100Of 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,
1105Whiles, 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,
1110I will not touch a bit.
Duke Senior
Go find him out,
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:
1115This wide and universal theater
Presents more woeful pageants than the scene
Wherein we play in.
Jaques
All the world's a stage,
And all the men and women merely players.
1120They 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
1125And 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,
1130Jealous 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,
1135Full 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
1140For 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,
1145Sans 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.
1150Adam 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.
1160Heigh-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
1165As 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,
1170As 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,
1175Go 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:
1185Find 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
1190Worth 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.
1195Duke 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.
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 tree
1210The 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.
1230Touchstone Such a one is a natural philosopher. Wast ever in court, shepherd?
Corin No, truly.
Touchstone Then thou art damned.
Corin Nay, I hope.
1235Touchstone 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, 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.
1250Corin 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. 1255Come.
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 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.
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.
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 find
1310Must 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.
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.
Touchstone You have said; but whether wisely or no, let the 1320forest 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.
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 span
1330Buckles 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 charged
1340That 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 hearts
1350To 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!"
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 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?
Celia And a chain that you once wore about his neck. Change you color?
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?
1385Rosalind 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!
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.
Rosalind Nay, but the devil take mocking! Speak sad brow and true maid.
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.
1430Rosalind 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 1435knight.
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.
1440Rosalind 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.
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 I pray you, mar no more trees with writing 1455love 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.
1460Orlando 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 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.
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.
1475Orlando '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 1480you 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.
1485Orlando 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?
1490Rosalind 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 1495detect 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, 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 As the coney that you see dwell where she is kindled.
Orlando Your accent is something finer than you could 1530purchase 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 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.
Orlando Can you remember any of the principal evils that he laid to the charge of women?
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.
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. 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?
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.
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.
1605Orlando 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?
1610Orlando 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].
1615Touchstone 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 1620capricious 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, 1625it 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?
1630Touchstone 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?
1635Touchstone 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 1640honesty 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.
1645Touchstone 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 1650may 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.
1655Jaques [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 1660what 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? 1665No, 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 1670than 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 1675shall 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.
1680Jaques [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.
1685Jaques 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 1690married 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.
1695Touchstone 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, 1700and 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, 1705I 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.
1710Rosalind 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; 1715therefore weep.
Rosalind His very hair is of the dissembling color.
Celia Something browner than Judas's. Marry, his kisses are Judas's own children.
1720Rosalind 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.
1725Celia 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?
1730Celia 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.
1735Rosalind 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 1740confirmer 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. 1745But 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, 1750as 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
1755After the shepherd that complained of love,
Who you saw sitting by me on the turf,
Praising the proud disdainful shepherdess
That was his mistress.
Celia
Well, and what of him?
1760Corin 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,
If you will mark it.
1765Rosalind
Oh, come, let us remove!
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,
1775Falls 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;
1780I 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,
1785Should 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,
1790Lie 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
1795Thy 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,
1800If ever -- as that "ever" may be near --
You meet in some fresh cheek the power of fancy,
Then shall you know the wounds invisible
That love's keen arrows make.
Phoebe
But till that time
1805Come 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,
1810Over 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?
1815I 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,
1820Your 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
1825Than 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]
1830But, 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;
1835Foul 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 1840fall 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,
1845For 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,
1850And 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?"
1855Silvius
Sweet Phoebe --
Phoebe
Ha! What say'st thou, Silvius?
Silvius Sweet Phoebe, pity me.
Phoebe Why, I am sorry for thee, gentle Silvius.
Silvius Wherever sorrow is, relief would be.
1860If 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
I would have you.
1865Phoebe
Why, that were covetousness.
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,
1870I 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,
1875That 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?
1880Silvius 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.
1885But 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
1890Is 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,
1895A 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
1900To 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,
1905And, 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?
1910Silvius
Phoebe, with all my heart.
Phoebe
I'll write it straight;
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.
1920Jaques 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.
1925Rosalind 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, 1930nor 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 1935sadness.
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.
1940Jaques 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!
1945Orlando 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 1950of 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 1955serve 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 1960will 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.
1965Rosalind 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, 1970than 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, 1975and 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?
1985Orlando 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! -- 1990matter, 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 1995mistress?
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 2000suit. 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.
2005Orlando 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 2010Grecian 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, 2015and, 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.
2020Orlando 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.
2025Orlando 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?
2030Rosalind 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 2035say, 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 2040Rosalind?
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 2045wife."
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 2050thought 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.
2055Rosalind 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 2060than 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 2065to 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. 2070The 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 2075say, "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 2080shall 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.
2085Rosalind 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 2090thought 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 2095so 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 2100may 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.
2105Rosalind 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 2110to 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.
2115Celia 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 2120eyes 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; 2130and 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 2135make 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:)
2140Take 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,
2145Is 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!
2150Celia 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.
2155My 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,
2160I 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
2165Were 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.
2170Phoebe did write it.
Rosalind
Come, come, you are a fool,
And turned into the extremity of love.
I saw her hand; she has a leathern hand,
A freestone-colored hand. I verily did think
2175That 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.
2180Rosalind 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
2185Than 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,
2190That 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?"
2195Did 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
2200Have 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!
2205He 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
2210Of 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!
2215Rosalind 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 2220love 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.
2225Oliver 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
2230Left 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,
2235Such 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?
2240Celia 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?
2245Oliver Some of my shame, if you will know of me
What man I am, and how, and why, and where
This handkerchief was stained.
Celia
I pray you, tell it.
Oliver When last the young Orlando parted from you,
2250He 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.
2255Under 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,
2260Who 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
2265A 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.
2270This 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
That lived amongst men.
2275Oliver
And well he might so do,
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;
2280But 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.
2285Celia
Are you his brother?
Rosalind
Was't you he rescued?
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
2290So sweetly tastes, being the thing I am.
Rosalind
But for the bloody napkin?
Oliver
By and by.
When from the first to last, betwixt us two,
Tears our recountments had most kindly bathed,
2295As 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,
2300There 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,
2305And 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
2310That 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.
2315Rosalind 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.
2320Rosalind 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 2325in 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.
2330Rosalind 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 2335How 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.
2345Touchstone 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.
2355Audrey 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?
2360William 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.
2365Touchstone "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. 2370Art 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, 2375when 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.
2380Touchstone 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 2385other; 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 2390society -- 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 2395death, 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.
2400Audrey Do, good William.
William God rest you merry, sir.
Exit.
Enter Corin.
Corin Our master and mistress seeks you. Come away, away!
2405Touchstone 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 2410should 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, 2415nor 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 2420live 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. 2425Go 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 2430thee 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.
2435Rosalind 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 2440and 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 2445the 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 2450them.
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 2455of 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.
2460Rosalind 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 2465do 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 2470his 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, 2475to 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, 2480bid 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
2485To 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.
2490Phoebe [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.
2495Rosalind 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.
2500Rosalind 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,
2505All 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.
2510Phoebe [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?"
2515Orlando 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, 2520and 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 2525woman, 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 2535no 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.]
2540Second 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 2545gypsies 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
2550In 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,
2560In 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,
2555For 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.
2565Touchstone 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 2570such 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.
2575Duke 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.
2580Rosalind 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?
2585Orlando 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?
2590Phoebe 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.
2595Keep 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
2600If 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
2605Methought 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, 2610Enter [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 2615fools.
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.
2620Touchstone 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.
2625Jaques 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.
2630Duke 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, 2635sir, 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.
2640Touchstone 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 2645body 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 2650he 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 2655say 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, 2660nor 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 2665have 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, 2670the 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"; 2675and 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 2680the 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
2685Atone together.
Good Duke, receive thy daughter;
Hymen from heaven brought her,
Yea, brought her hither,
That thou mightst join her hand with his,
2690Whose 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.
2695Phoebe 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]
2705You 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,
2710As 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. 2715SONG.
Wedding is great Juno's crown,
O blessèd bond of board and bed!
'Tis Hymen peoples every town;
High wedlock then be honorèd.
2720Honor, 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;
2725Thy 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.
2730Duke 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;
2735And 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,
2740And all their lands restored to them again
That were with him exiled. This to be true
I do engage my life.
Duke Senior
Welcome, young man.
Thou offer'st fairly to thy brothers' wedding:
2745To 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
2750That 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.
2755Play, 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.
2760Jaques 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]
2765You 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;
2770I 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,
2775As we do trust they'll end, in true delights.
[They dance.] Exeunt [all but Rosalind].
[Epilogue]
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. 2780Yet 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 2785to 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 2790simpering, 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 2795beards, or good faces, or sweet breaths, will, for my kind offer, when I make curtsy, bid me farewell.
Exit.