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  • Title: As You Like It (Folio 1, 1623)
  • Editor: David Bevington

    • ISBN: 978-1-55058-369-4

    Copyright David Bevington. This text may be freely used for educational, non-profit purposes; for all other uses contact the Editor.
    Author: William Shakespeare
    Editor: David Bevington
    Peer Reviewed

    As You Like It (Folio 1, 1623)

    187
    As you like it.
    in dispight of a fall: but turning these iests out of seruice,
    let vs talke in good earnest: Is it possible on such a so-
    485daine, you should fall into so strong a liking with old Sir
    Roulands yongest sonne?
    Ros. The Duke my Father lou'd his Father deerelie.
    Cel. Doth it therefore ensue that you should loue his
    Sonne deerelie? By this kinde of chase, I should hate
    490him, for my father hated his father deerely; yet I hate
    not Orlando.
    Ros. No faith, hate him not for my sake.
    Cel. Why should I not? doth he not deserue well?

    Enter Duke with Lords.
    495Ros. Let me loue him for that, and do you loue him
    Because I doe. Looke, here comes the Duke.
    Cel. With his eies full of anger.
    Duk. Mistris, dispatch you with your safest haste,
    And get you from our Court.
    500Ros. Me Vncle.
    Duk You Cosen,
    Within these ten daies if that thou beest found
    So neere our publike Court as twentie miles,
    Thou diest for it.
    505Ros. I doe beseech your Grace
    Let me the knowledge of my fault beare with me:
    If with my selfe I hold intelligence,
    Or haue acquaintance with mine owne desires,
    If that I doe not dreame, or be not franticke,
    510(As I doe trust I am not) then deere Vncle,
    Neuer so much as in a thought vnborne,
    Did I offend your highnesse.
    Duk. Thus doe all Traitors,
    If their purgation did consist in words,
    515They are as innocent as grace it selfe;
    Let it suffice thee that I trust thee not.
    Ros. Yet your mistrust cannot make me a Traitor;
    Tell me whereon the likelihoods depends?
    Duk. Thou art thy Fathers daughter, there's enough.
    520Ros. So was I when your highnes took his Dukdome,
    So was I when your highnesse banisht him;
    Treason is not inherited my Lord,
    Or if we did deriue it from our friends,
    What's that to me, my Father was no Traitor,
    525Then good my Leige, mistake me not so much,
    To thinke my pouertie is treacherous.
    Cel. Deere Soueraigne heare me speake.
    Duk. I Celia, we staid her for your sake,
    Else had she with her Father rang'd along.
    530Cel. I did not then intreat to haue her stay,
    It was your pleasure, and your owne remorse,
    I was too yong that time to value her,
    But now I know her: if she be a Traitor,
    Why so am I: we still haue slept together,
    535Rose at an instant, learn'd, plaid, eate together,
    And wheresoere we went, like Iunos Swans,
    Still we went coupled and inseperable.
    Duk. She is too subtile for thee, and her smoothnes;
    Her verie silence, and per patience,
    540Speake to the people, and they pittie her:
    Thou art a foole, she robs thee of thy name,
    And thou wilt show more bright, & seem more vertuous
    When she is gone: then open not thy lips
    Firme, and irreuocable is my doombe,
    545Which I haue past vpon her, she is banish'd.
    Cel. Pronounce that sentence then on me my Leige,
    I cannot liue out of her companie.

    Duk. You are a foole: you Neice prouide your selfe,
    If you out-stay the time, vpon mine honor,
    550And in the greatnesse of my word you die.
    Exit Duke, &c.
    Cel. O my poore Rosaline, whether wilt thou goe?
    Wilt thou change Fathers? I will giue thee mine:
    I charge thee be not thou more grieu'd then I am.
    555Ros. I haue more cause.
    Cel. Thou hast not Cosen,
    Prethee be cheerefull; know'st thou not the Duke
    Hath banish'd me his daughter?
    Ros. That he hath not.
    560Cel. No, hath not? Rosaline lacks then the loue
    Which teacheth thee that thou and I am one,
    Shall we be sundred? shall we part sweete girle?
    No, let my Father seeke another heire:
    Therefore deuise with me how we may flie
    565Whether to goe, and what to beare with vs,
    And doe not seeke to take your change vpon you,
    To beare your griefes your selfe, and leaue me out:
    For by this heauen, now at our sorrowes pale;
    Say what thou canst, Ile goe along with thee.
    570Ros. Why, whether shall we goe?
    Cel. To seeke my Vncle in the Forrest of Arden.
    Ros. Alas, what danger will it be to vs,
    (Maides as we are) to trauell forth so farre?
    Beautie prouoketh theeues sooner then gold.
    575Cel. Ile put my selfe in poore and meane attire,
    And with a kinde of vmber smirch my face,
    The like doe you, so shall we passe along,
    And neuer stir assailants.
    Ros. Were it not better,
    580Because that I am more then common tall,
    That I did suite me all points like a man,
    A gallant curtelax vpon my thigh,
    A bore-speare in my hand, and in my heart
    Lye there what hidden womans feare there will,
    585Weele haue a swashing and a marshall outside,
    As manie other mannish cowards haue,
    That doe outface it with their semblances.
    Cel. What shall I call thee when thou art a man?
    Ros. Ile haue no worse a name then Ioues owne Page,
    590And therefore looke you call me Ganimed.
    But what will you be call'd?
    Cel. Something that hath a reference to my state:
    No longer Celia, but Aliena.
    Ros. But Cosen, what if we assaid to steale
    595The clownish Foole out of your Fathers Court:
    Would he not be a comfort to our trauaile?
    Cel. Heele goe along ore the wide world with me,
    Leaue me alone to woe him; Let's away
    And get our Iewels and our wealth together,
    600Deuise the fittest time, and safest way
    To hide vs from pursuite that will be made
    After my flight: now goe in we content
    To libertie, and not to banishment. Exennt.


    Actus Secundus. Scœna Prima.


    605Enter Duke Senior: Amyens, and two or three Lords
    like Forresters.
    Duk.Sen. Now my Coe-mates, and brothers in exile:
    Hath not old custome made this life more sweete

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