Difference between revisions of "As You Like It"

Revision as of 19:18, May 7, 2007

"As You Like It" is a comedy written by William Shakespeare, set forth fully below.

In a famous use of the word "quotidian" (meaning every day), the character Rosalind states that love-struck Orlando "seems to have the quotidian of love upon him."

Difference between revisions of "As You Like It"

Revision as of 19:18, May 7, 2007

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 In a famous use of the word "quotidian" (meaning every day), the character Rosalind states that love-struck Orlando "seems to have the quotidian of love upon him."
-ACT I
-SCENE I. Orchard of Oliver's house.
-    Enter ORLANDO and ADAM
-ORLANDO
-    As I remember, Adam, it was upon this fashion
-    bequeathed me by will but poor a thousand crowns,
-    and, as thou sayest, 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: for my part,
-    he keeps me rustically at home, or, to speak more
-    properly, stays me here at home unkept; for call you
-    that keeping for a gentleman of my birth, that
-    differs not from the stalling of an ox? His horses
-    are bred better; for, besides that they are fair
-    with their feeding, they are taught their manage,
-    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 nature gave
-    me his countenance seems to take from me: he lets
-    me feed with his hinds, bars me the place of a
-    brother, and, as much as in him lies, mines my
-    gentility with my education. This is it, Adam, that
-    grieves me; and the spirit of my father, which I
-    think is within me, begins to mutiny against this
-    servitude: I will no longer endure it, though yet I
-    know no wise remedy how to avoid it.
-ADAM
-    Yonder comes my master, your brother.
-ORLANDO
-    Go apart, Adam, and thou shalt hear how he will
-    shake me up.
-    Enter OLIVER
-OLIVER
-    Now, sir! what make you here?
-ORLANDO
-    Nothing: I am not taught to make any thing.
-OLIVER
-    What mar you then, sir?
-ORLANDO
-    Marry, sir, I am helping you to mar that which God
-    made, a poor unworthy brother of yours, with idleness.
-OLIVER
-    Marry, sir, be better employed, and be naught awhile.
-ORLANDO
-    Shall I keep your hogs and eat husks with them?
-    What prodigal portion have I spent, that I should
-    come to such penury?
-OLIVER
-    Know you where your are, sir?
-ORLANDO
-    O, sir, very well; here in your orchard.
-OLIVER
-    Know you before whom, sir?
-ORLANDO
-    Ay, better than him I am before knows me. I know
-    you are my eldest brother; and, in the gentle
-    condition of blood, you should so know me. The
-    courtesy of nations allows you my better, in that
-    you are the first-born; but the same tradition
-    takes not away my blood, were there twenty brothers
-    betwixt us: I have as much of my father in me as
-    you; albeit, I confess, your coming before me is
-    nearer to his reverence.
-OLIVER
-    What, boy!
-ORLANDO
-    Come, come, elder brother, you are too young in this.
-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 not my brother, I would not take this hand
-    from thy throat till this other had pulled out thy
-    tongue for saying so: thou hast railed on thyself.
-ADAM
-    Sweet masters, be patient: for your father's
-    remembrance, be at accord.
-OLIVER
-    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 gentleman-like
-    qualities. The spirit of my father grows strong in
-    me, and I will no longer endure it: therefore allow
-    me such exercises as may become a gentleman, or
-    give me the poor allottery my father left me by
-    testament; with that I will go buy my fortunes.
-OLIVER
-    And what wilt thou do? beg, when that is spent?
-    Well, sir, get you in: I will not long be troubled
-    with you; you shall have some part of your will: I
-    pray you, leave me.
-ORLANDO
-    I will no further offend you than becomes me for my good.
-OLIVER
-    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
-OLIVER
-    Is it even so? begin you to grow upon me? I will
-    physic your rankness, and yet give no thousand
-    crowns neither. Holla, Dennis!
-    Enter DENNIS
-DENNIS
-    Calls your worship?
-OLIVER
-    Was not Charles, the duke's wrestler, here to speak with me?
-DENNIS
-    So please you, he is here at the door and importunes
-    access to you.
-OLIVER
-    Call him in.
-    Exit DENNIS
-    'Twill be a good way; and to-morrow the wrestling is.
-    Enter CHARLES
-CHARLES
-    Good morrow to your worship.
-OLIVER
-    Good Monsieur Charles, what's the new news at the
-    new court?
-CHARLES
-    There's no news at the court, sir, but the old news:
-    that is, the old duke is banished by his younger
-    brother the new duke; and three or four loving lords
-    have put themselves into voluntary exile with him,
-    whose lands and revenues enrich the new duke;
-    therefore he gives them good leave to wander.
-OLIVER
-    Can you tell if Rosalind, the duke's daughter, be
-    banished with her father?
-CHARLES
-    O, no; for the duke's daughter, her cousin, so loves
-    her, being ever from their cradles bred together,
-    that she would have followed her exile, or have died
-    to stay behind her. She is at the court, and no
-    less beloved of her uncle than his own daughter; and
-    never two ladies loved as they do.
-OLIVER
-    Where will the old duke live?
-CHARLES
-    They say he is already in the forest of Arden, and
-    a many merry men with him; and there they live like
-    the old Robin Hood of England: they say many young
-    gentlemen flock to him every day, and fleet the time
-    carelessly, as they did in the golden world.
-OLIVER
-    What, you wrestle to-morrow 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 in disguised against me to try a fall.
-    To-morrow, 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 honour, if he come in: therefore,
-    out of my love to you, I came hither to acquaint you
-    withal, that either you might stay him from his
-    intendment or brook such disgrace well as he shall
-    run into, in that it is a thing of his own search
-    and altogether against my will.
-OLIVER
-    Charles, I thank thee for thy love to me, which
-    thou shalt find I will most kindly requite. I had
-    myself notice of my brother's purpose herein and
-    have by underhand means laboured to dissuade him from
-    it, but he is resolute. I'll tell thee, Charles:
-    it is the stubbornest young fellow of France, full
-    of ambition, an envious emulator of every man's
-    good parts, a secret and villanous 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 dost him any slight disgrace or if he do not
-    mightily grace himself on thee, he will practise
-    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 tears I speak
-    it, there is not one so young and so villanous 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.
-CHARLES
-    I am heartily glad I came hither to you. If he come
-    to-morrow, 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!
-OLIVER
-    Farewell, good Charles.
-    Exit CHARLES
-    Now will I stir this gamester: I hope I shall see
-    an end of him; for my soul, yet I know not why,
-    hates nothing more than he. Yet he's gentle, never
-    schooled and yet learned, full of noble device, of
-    all sorts enchantingly beloved, and indeed so much
-    in the heart of the world, and especially of my own
-    people, who best know him, that I am altogether
-    misprised: 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
-SCENE II. Lawn before the Duke's palace.
-    Enter CELIA and ROSALIND
-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
-    learn me how to remember any extraordinary pleasure.
-CELIA
-    Herein I see thou lovest 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
-    hadst been still with me, I could have taught my
-    love to take thy father for mine: so wouldst thou,
-    if the truth of thy love to me were so righteously
-    tempered as mine is to thee.
-ROSALIND
-    Well, I will forget the condition of my estate, to
-    rejoice in yours.
-CELIA
-    You know my father hath no child but I, nor none is
-    like to have: and, truly, when he dies, thou shalt
-    be his heir, for what he hath taken away from thy
-    father perforce, I will render thee again in
-    affection; by mine honour, 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?
-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 honour come off again.
-ROSALIND
-    What shall be our sport, then?
-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
-    doth most mistake in her gifts to women.
-CELIA
-    'Tis true; for those that she makes fair she scarce
-    makes honest, and those that she makes honest she
-    makes very ill-favouredly.
-ROSALIND
-    Nay, now thou goest from Fortune's office to
-    Nature's: Fortune reigns in gifts of the world,
-    not in the lineaments of Nature.
-    Enter TOUCHSTONE
-CELIA
-    No? when Nature hath made a fair creature, may she
-    not by Fortune fall into the fire? Though Nature
-    hath given us wit to flout at Fortune, hath not
-    Fortune sent in this fool to cut off the argument?
-ROSALIND
-    Indeed, there is Fortune too hard for Nature, when
-    Fortune makes Nature's natural the cutter-off of
-    Nature's wit.
-CELIA
-    Peradventure this is not Fortune's work neither, but
-    Nature's; who perceiveth our natural wits too dull
-    to reason of such goddesses and hath sent this
-    natural for our whetstone; for always the dulness of
-    the fool is the whetstone of the wits. How now,
-    wit! whither wander you?
-TOUCHSTONE
-    Mistress, you must come away to your father.
-CELIA
-    Were you made the messenger?
-TOUCHSTONE
-    No, by mine honour, but I was bid to come for you.
-ROSALIND
-    Where learned you that oath, fool?
-TOUCHSTONE
-    Of a certain knight that swore by his honour they
-    were good pancakes and swore by his honour 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.
-CELIA
-    How prove you that, in the great heap of your
-    knowledge?
-ROSALIND
-    Ay, marry, now unmuzzle your wisdom.
-TOUCHSTONE
-    Stand you both forth now: stroke your chins, and
-    swear by your beards that I am a knave.
-CELIA
-    By our beards, if we had them, thou art.
-TOUCHSTONE
-    By my knavery, if I had it, then I were; but if you
-    swear by that that is not, you are not forsworn: no
-    more was this knight swearing by his honour, for he
-    never had any; or if he had, he had sworn it away
-    before ever he saw those pancakes or that mustard.
-CELIA
-    Prithee, who is't that thou meanest?
-TOUCHSTONE
-    One that old Frederick, your father, loves.
-CELIA
-    My father's love is enough to honour him: enough!
-    speak no more of him; you'll be whipped for taxation
-    one of these days.
-TOUCHSTONE
-    The more pity, that fools may not speak wisely what
-    wise men do foolishly.
-CELIA
-    By my troth, thou sayest true; for since the little
-    wit that fools have was silenced, the little foolery
-    that wise men have makes a great show. Here comes
-    Monsieur Le Beau.
-ROSALIND
-    With his mouth full of news.
-CELIA
-    Which he will put on us, as pigeons feed their young.
-ROSALIND
-    Then shall we be news-crammed.
-CELIA
-    All the better; we shall be the more marketable.
-    Enter LE BEAU
-    Bon jour, Monsieur Le Beau: what's the news?
-LE BEAU
-    Fair princess, you have lost much good sport.
-CELIA
-    Sport! of what colour?
-LE BEAU
-    What colour, madam! how shall I answer you?
-ROSALIND
-    As wit and fortune will.
-TOUCHSTONE
-    Or as the Destinies decree.
-CELIA
-    Well said: that was laid on with a trowel.
-TOUCHSTONE
-    Nay, if I keep not my rank,--
-ROSALIND
-    Thou losest thy old smell.
-LE BEAU
-    You amaze me, ladies: I would have told you of good
-    wrestling, which you have lost the sight of.
-ROSALIND
-    You 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 perform it.
-CELIA
-    Well, the beginning, that is dead and buried.
-LE BEAU
-    There comes an old man and his three sons,--
-CELIA
-    I could match this beginning with an old tale.
-LE BEAU
-    Three proper young men, of excellent growth and presence.
-ROSALIND
-    With bills on their necks, 'Be it known unto all men
-    by these presents.'
-LE BEAU
-    The eldest of the three wrestled with Charles, the
-    duke's wrestler; which Charles in a moment threw him
-    and broke three of his ribs, that there is little
-    hope of life in him: so he served the second, and
-    so the third. Yonder they lie; the poor old man,
-    their father, making such pitiful dole over them
-    that all the beholders take his part with weeping.
-ROSALIND
-    Alas!
-TOUCHSTONE
-    But what is the sport, monsieur, that the ladies
-    have lost?
-LE BEAU
-    Why, this that I speak of.
-TOUCHSTONE
-    Thus men may grow wiser every day: it is the first
-    time that ever I heard breaking of ribs was sport
-    for ladies.
-CELIA
-    Or I, I promise thee.
-ROSALIND
-    But is there any else longs to see this broken music
-    in his sides? is there yet another dotes upon
-    rib-breaking? Shall we see this wrestling, cousin?
-LE BEAU
-    You must, if you stay here; for here is the place
-    appointed for the wrestling, and they are ready to
-    perform it.
-CELIA
-    Yonder, sure, they are coming: let us now stay and see it.
-    Flourish. Enter DUKE FREDERICK, Lords, ORLANDO, CHARLES, and Attendants
-DUKE FREDERICK
-    Come on: since the youth will not be entreated, his
-    own peril on his forwardness.
-ROSALIND
-    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?
-ROSALIND
-    Ay, my liege, so please you give us leave.
-DUKE FREDERICK
-    You will take little delight in it, I can tell you;
-    there is such odds in the man. In pity of the
-    challenger's youth I would fain dissuade him, but he
-    will not be entreated. Speak to him, ladies; see if
-    you can move him.
-CELIA
-    Call him hither, good Monsieur Le Beau.
-DUKE FREDERICK
-    Do so: I'll not be by.
-LE BEAU
-    Monsieur the challenger, the princesses call for you.
-ORLANDO
-    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 of my youth.
-CELIA
-    Young gentleman, your spirits are too bold for your
-    years. You have seen cruel proof of this man's
-    strength: if you saw yourself with your eyes or
-    knew yourself with your judgment, the fear of your
-    adventure would counsel you to a more equal
-    enterprise. We pray you, for your own sake, to
-    embrace your own safety and give over this attempt.
-ROSALIND
-    Do, young sir; your reputation shall not therefore
-    be misprised: we will make it our suit to the duke
-    that the wrestling might not go forward.
-ORLANDO
-    I beseech you, punish me not with your hard
-    thoughts; wherein I confess me much guilty, to deny
-    so fair and excellent ladies any thing. But let
-    your fair eyes and gentle wishes go with me to my
-    trial: wherein if I be foiled, there is but one
-    shamed that was never gracious; if killed, but one
-    dead that was 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
-    supplied when I have made it empty.
-ROSALIND
-    The little strength that I have, I would it were with you.
-CELIA
-    And mine, to eke out hers.
-ROSALIND
-    Fare you well: pray heaven I be deceived in you!
-CELIA
-    Your heart's desires be with you!
-CHARLES
-    Come, where is this young gallant that is so
-    desirous to lie with his mother earth?
-ORLANDO
-    Ready, sir; but his will hath in it a more modest working.
-DUKE FREDERICK
-    You shall try but one fall.
-CHARLES
-    No, I warrant your grace, you shall not entreat him
-    to a second, that have so mightily persuaded him
-    from a first.
-ORLANDO
-    An you mean to mock me after, you should not have
-    mocked me before: but come your ways.
-ROSALIND
-    Now Hercules be thy speed, young man!
-CELIA
-    I would I were invisible, to catch the strong
-    fellow by the leg.
-    They wrestle
-ROSALIND
-    O excellent young man!
-CELIA
-    If I had a thunderbolt in mine eye, I can tell who
-    should down.
-    Shout. CHARLES is thrown
-DUKE FREDERICK
-    No more, no more.
-ORLANDO
-    Yes, I beseech your grace: I am not yet well breathed.
-DUKE FREDERICK
-    How dost thou, Charles?
-LE BEAU
-    He cannot speak, my lord.
-DUKE FREDERICK
-    Bear him away. What is thy name, young man?
-ORLANDO
-    Orlando, my liege; the youngest son of Sir Rowland de Boys.
-DUKE FREDERICK
-    I would thou hadst been son to some man else:
-    The world esteem'd thy father honourable,
-    But I did find him still mine enemy:
-    Thou shouldst have better pleased me with this deed,
-    Hadst thou descended from another house.
-    But fare thee well; thou art a gallant youth:
-    I would thou hadst told me of another father.
-    Exeunt DUKE FREDERICK, train, and LE BEAU
-CELIA
-    Were I my father, coz, would I do this?
-ORLANDO
-    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
-    My father loved Sir Rowland as his soul,
-    And all the world was of my father's mind:
-    Had 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:
-    My father's rough and envious disposition
-    Sticks me at heart. 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.
-ROSALIND
-    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.
-    Shall we go, coz?
-CELIA
-    Ay. Fare you well, fair gentleman.
-ORLANDO
-    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
-    He calls us back: my pride fell with my fortunes;
-    I'll ask him what he would. Did you call, sir?
-    Sir, you have wrestled well and overthrown
-    More than your enemies.
-CELIA
-    Will you go, coz?
-ROSALIND
-    Have with you. Fare you well.
-    Exeunt ROSALIND and CELIA
-ORLANDO
-    What passion hangs these weights upon my tongue?
-    I cannot speak to her, yet she urged conference.
-    O poor Orlando, thou art overthrown!
-    Or Charles or something weaker masters thee.
-    Re-enter LE BEAU
-LE BEAU
-    Good sir, I do in friendship counsel you
-    To leave this place. Albeit you have deserved
-    High commendation, true applause and love,
-    Yet such is now the duke's condition
-    That he misconstrues all that you have done.
-    The duke is humorous; what he is indeed,
-    More suits you to conceive than I to speak of.
-ORLANDO
-    I thank you, sir: and, pray you, tell me this:
-    Which of the two was daughter of the duke
-    That here was at the wrestling?
-LE BEAU
-    Neither his daughter, if we judge by manners;
-    But yet indeed the lesser is his daughter
-    The other is daughter to the banish'd duke,
-    And here detain'd by her usurping uncle,
-    To keep his daughter company; whose loves
-    Are dearer than the natural bond of sisters.
-    But I can tell you that of late this duke
-    Hath ta'en displeasure 'gainst his gentle niece,
-    Grounded upon no other argument
-    But that the people praise her for her virtues
-    And pity her for her good father's sake;
-    And, on my life, his malice 'gainst the lady
-    Will suddenly break forth. Sir, fare you well:
-    Hereafter, in a better world than this,
-    I shall desire more love and knowledge of you.
-ORLANDO
-    I rest much bounden to you: fare you well.
-    Exit LE BEAU
-    Thus must I from the smoke into the smother;
-    From tyrant duke unto a tyrant brother:
-    But heavenly Rosalind!
-    Exit
-SCENE III. A room in the palace.
-    Enter CELIA and ROSALIND
-CELIA
-    Why, cousin! why, Rosalind! Cupid have mercy! not a word?
-ROSALIND
-    Not one to throw at a dog.
-CELIA
-    No, thy words are too precious to be cast away upon
-    curs; throw some of them at me; come, lame me with reasons.
-ROSALIND
-    Then there were two cousins laid up; when the one
-    should be lamed with reasons and the other mad
-    without any.
-CELIA
-    But is all this for your father?
-ROSALIND
-    No, some of it is for my child's father. O, 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.
-ROSALIND
-    I could shake them off my coat: these burs are in my heart.
-CELIA
-    Hem them away.
-ROSALIND
-    I would try, if I could cry 'hem' and have him.
-CELIA
-    Come, come, wrestle with thy affections.
-ROSALIND
-    O, they take the part of a better wrestler than myself!
-CELIA
-    O, 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, you should fall into so
-    strong a liking with old Sir Rowland's youngest son?
-ROSALIND
-    The duke my father loved his father dearly.
-CELIA
-    Doth it therefore ensue that you should love his son
-    dearly? By this kind of chase, I should hate him,
-    for my father hated his father dearly; yet I hate
-    not Orlando.
-ROSALIND
-    No, faith, hate him not, for my sake.
-CELIA
-    Why should I not? doth he not deserve well?
-ROSALIND
-    Let me love him for that, and do you love him
-    because I do. Look, here comes the duke.
-CELIA
-    With his eyes full of anger.
-    Enter DUKE FREDERICK, with Lords
-DUKE FREDERICK
-    Mistress, dispatch you with your safest haste
-    And get you from our court.
-ROSALIND
-    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.
-ROSALIND
-    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,--
-    As 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,
-    They are as innocent as grace itself:
-    Let it suffice thee that I trust thee not.
-ROSALIND
-    Yet your mistrust cannot make me a traitor:
-    Tell me whereon the likelihood depends.
-DUKE FREDERICK
-    Thou art thy father's daughter; there's enough.
-ROSALIND
-    So was I when your highness took his dukedom;
-    So was I when your highness banish'd 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:
-    Then, good my liege, mistake me not so much
-    To think my poverty is treacherous.
-CELIA
-    Dear sovereign, hear me speak.
-DUKE FREDERICK
-    Ay, Celia; we stay'd her for your sake,
-    Else had she with her father ranged along.
-CELIA
-    I did not then entreat to have her stay;
-    It was your pleasure and your own remorse:
-    I was too young that time to value her;
-    But now I know her: if she be a traitor,
-    Why so am I; we still have slept together,
-    Rose at an instant, learn'd, play'd, eat together,
-    And wheresoever 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
-    Speak to the people, and they pity her.
-    Thou art a fool: she robs thee of thy name;
-    And thou wilt show more bright and seem more virtuous
-    When she is gone. Then open not thy lips:
-    Firm and irrevocable is my doom
-    Which I have pass'd upon her; she is banish'd.
-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 honour,
-    And in the greatness of my word, you die.
-    Exeunt DUKE FREDERICK and 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.
-ROSALIND
-    I have more cause.
-CELIA
-    Thou hast not, cousin;
-    Prithee be cheerful: know'st thou not, the duke
-    Hath banish'd me, his daughter?
-ROSALIND
-    That he hath not.
-CELIA
-    No, hath not? Rosalind lacks then the love
-    Which teacheth thee that thou and I am one:
-    Shall we be sunder'd? shall we part, sweet girl?
-    No: let my father seek another heir.
-    Therefore devise with me how we may fly,
-    Whither to go and what to bear with us;
-    And do not seek to take your change upon you,
-    To bear your griefs yourself and leave me out;
-    For, by this heaven, now at our sorrows pale,
-    Say what thou canst, I'll go along with thee.
-ROSALIND
-    Why, whither shall we go?
-CELIA
-    To seek my uncle in the forest of Arden.
-ROSALIND
-    Alas, what danger will it be to us,
-    Maids as we are, to travel forth so far!
-    Beauty provoketh thieves sooner than gold.
-CELIA
-    I'll put myself in poor and mean attire
-    And with a kind of umber smirch my face;
-    The like do you: so shall we pass along
-    And never stir assailants.
-ROSALIND
-    Were it not better,
-    Because that I am more than common tall,
-    That I did suit me all points like a man?
-    A gallant curtle-axe upon my thigh,
-    A boar-spear in my hand; and--in my heart
-    Lie there what hidden woman's fear there will--
-    We'll have a swashing and a martial outside,
-    As many other mannish cowards have
-    That do outface it with their semblances.
-CELIA
-    What shall I call thee when thou art a man?
-ROSALIND
-    I'll have no worse a name than Jove's own page;
-    And therefore look you call me Ganymede.
-    But what will you be call'd?
-CELIA
-    Something that hath a reference to my state
-    No longer Celia, but Aliena.
-ROSALIND
-    But, cousin, what if we assay'd to steal
-    The clownish fool out of your father's court?
-    Would he not be a comfort to our travel?
-CELIA
-    He'll go along o'er the wide world with me;
-    Leave me alone to woo him. Let's away,
-    And get our jewels and our wealth together,
-    Devise the fittest time and safest way
-    To hide us from pursuit that will be made
-    After my flight. Now go we in content
-    To liberty and not to banishment.
-    Exeunt
-ACT II
-SCENE I. The Forest of Arden.
-    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
-    More free from peril than the envious court?
-    Here feel we but 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,
-    Even till I shrink with cold, I smile and say
-    'This is no flattery: these are counsellors
-    That feelingly persuade me what I am.'
-    Sweet are the uses of adversity,
-    Which, like the toad, ugly and venomous,
-    Wears yet a precious jewel in his head;
-    And this our life exempt from public haunt
-    Finds tongues in trees, books in the running brooks,
-    Sermons in stones and good in every thing.
-    I would not change it.
-AMIENS
-    Happy is your grace,
-    That can translate the stubbornness of fortune
-    Into so quiet and so sweet a style.
-DUKE SENIOR
-    Come, shall we go and kill us venison?
-    And yet it irks me the poor dappled fools,
-    Being native burghers of this desert city,
-    Should in their own confines with forked 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
-    Than doth your brother that hath banish'd you.
-    To-day 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:
-    To the which place a poor sequester'd 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
-    Almost to bursting, and the big round tears
-    Coursed one another down his innocent nose
-    In piteous chase; and thus the hairy fool
-    Much marked of the melancholy Jaques,
-    Stood on the extremest verge of the swift brook,
-    Augmenting it with tears.
-DUKE SENIOR
-    But what said Jaques?
-    Did he not moralize this spectacle?
-First Lord
-    O, yes, into a thousand similes.
-    First, for his weeping into the needless stream;
-    'Poor deer,' quoth he, 'thou makest a testament
-    As worldlings do, giving thy sum of more
-    To that which had too much:' then, being there alone,
-    Left and abandon'd of his velvet friends,
-    ''Tis right:' quoth he; 'thus misery doth part
-    The flux of company:' anon a careless herd,
-    Full of the pasture, jumps along by him
-    And never stays to greet him; 'Ay' quoth Jaques,
-    'Sweep on, you fat and greasy citizens;
-    'Tis just the fashion: wherefore do you look
-    Upon that poor and broken bankrupt there?'
-    Thus most invectively he pierceth through
-    The body of the country, city, court,
-    Yea, and of this our life, swearing that we
-    Are mere usurpers, tyrants and what's worse,
-    To fright the animals and to kill them up
-    In their assign'd 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.
-DUKE 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
-SCENE II. A room in the palace.
-    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.
-    The ladies, her attendants of her chamber,
-    Saw her abed, and in the morning early
-    They found the bed untreasured of their mistress.
-Second Lord
-    My lord, the roynish clown, at whom so oft
-    Your grace was wont to laugh, is also missing.
-    Hisperia, the princess' gentlewoman,
-    Confesses that she secretly o'erheard
-    Your daughter and her cousin much commend
-    The parts and graces of the wrestler
-    That did but lately foil the sinewy Charles;
-    And she believes, wherever they are gone,
-    That youth is surely in their company.
-DUKE FREDERICK
-    Send to his brother; fetch that gallant hither;
-    If he be absent, bring his brother to me;
-    I'll make him find him: do this suddenly,
-    And let not search and inquisition quail
-    To bring again these foolish runaways.
-    Exeunt
-SCENE III. Before OLIVER'S house.
-    Enter ORLANDO and ADAM, meeting
-ORLANDO
-    Who's there?
-ADAM
-    What, my young master? O, my gentle master!
-    O my sweet master! O 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?
-    Why would you be so fond to overcome
-    The bonny priser 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?
-    No more do yours: your virtues, gentle master,
-    Are sanctified and holy traitors to you.
-    O, what a world is this, when what is comely
-    Envenoms him that bears it!
-ORLANDO
-    Why, what's the matter?
-ADAM
-    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
-    Of him I was about to call his father--
-    Hath heard your praises, and this night he means
-    To burn the lodging where you use to lie
-    And you within it: if he fail of that,
-    He will have other means to cut you off.
-    I overheard him and his practises.
-    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.
-ORLANDO
-    What, wouldst thou have me go and beg my food?
-    Or with a base and boisterous 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;
-    I rather will subject me to the malice
-    Of a diverted blood and bloody brother.
-ADAM
-    But do not so. I have five hundred crowns,
-    The thrifty hire I saved under your father,
-    Which I did store to be my foster-nurse
-    When service should in my old limbs lie lame
-    And unregarded age in corners thrown:
-    Take that, and He that doth the ravens feed,
-    Yea, providently caters for the sparrow,
-    Be comfort to my age! Here is the gold;
-    And all this I give you. Let me be your servant:
-    Though I look old, yet I am strong and lusty;
-    For in my youth I never did apply
-    Hot and rebellious liquors in my blood,
-    Nor did not with unbashful forehead woo
-    The means of weakness and debility;
-    Therefore my age is as a lusty winter,
-    Frosty, but kindly: let me go with you;
-    I'll do the service of a younger man
-    In all your business and necessities.
-ORLANDO
-    O 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,
-    And having that, do choke their service up
-    Even with the having: it is not so with thee.
-    But, poor old man, thou prunest a rotten tree,
-    That cannot so much as a blossom yield
-    In lieu of all thy pains and husbandry
-    But come thy ways; well 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.
-    From seventeen years till now almost fourscore
-    Here lived 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
-    Than to die well and not my master's debtor.
-    Exeunt
-SCENE IV. The Forest of Arden.
-    Enter ROSALIND for Ganymede, CELIA for Aliena, and TOUCHSTONE
-ROSALIND
-    O Jupiter, how weary are my spirits!
-TOUCHSTONE
-    I care not for my spirits, if my legs were not weary.
-ROSALIND
-    I could find in my heart to disgrace my man's
-    apparel and to cry like a woman; but I must comfort
-    the weaker vessel, as doublet and hose ought to show
-    itself courageous to petticoat: therefore courage,
-    good Aliena!
-CELIA
-    I pray you, bear with me; I cannot go no further.
-TOUCHSTONE
-    For my part, I had rather bear with you than bear
-    you; yet I should bear no cross if I did bear you,
-    for I think you have no money in your purse.
-ROSALIND
-    Well, this is the forest of Arden.
-TOUCHSTONE
-    Ay, now am I in Arden; the more fool I; when I was
-    at home, I was in a better place: but travellers
-    must be content.
-ROSALIND
-    Ay, be so, good Touchstone.
-    Enter CORIN and SILVIUS
-    Look you, who comes here; a young man and an old in
-    solemn talk.
-CORIN
-    That is the way to make her scorn you still.
-SILVIUS
-    O 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 sigh'd upon a midnight pillow:
-    But if thy love were ever like to mine--
-    As sure I think did never man love so--
-    How many actions most ridiculous
-    Hast thou been drawn to by thy fantasy?
-CORIN
-    Into a thousand that I have forgotten.
-SILVIUS
-    O, thou didst then ne'er love so heartily!
-    If thou remember'st 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,
-    Wearying 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.
-    O Phebe, Phebe, Phebe!
-    Exit
-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
-    coming a-night to Jane Smile; and I remember the
-    kissing of her batlet and the cow's dugs that her
-    pretty chopt 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 tears 'Wear these for my sake.' We that are
-    true lovers run into strange capers; but as all is
-    mortal in nature, so is all nature in love mortal in folly.
-ROSALIND
-    Thou speakest wiser than thou art ware of.
-TOUCHSTONE
-    Nay, I shall ne'er be ware of mine own wit till I
-    break my shins against it.
-ROSALIND
-    Jove, Jove! this shepherd's passion
-    Is much upon my fashion.
-TOUCHSTONE
-    And mine; but it grows something stale with me.
-CELIA
-    I pray you, one of you question yond man
-    If he for gold will give us any food:
-    I faint almost to death.
-TOUCHSTONE
-    Holla, you clown!
-ROSALIND
-    Peace, fool: he's not thy kinsman.
-CORIN
-    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.
-ROSALIND
-    I prithee, shepherd, if that love or gold
-    Can in this desert place buy entertainment,
-    Bring us where we may rest ourselves and feed:
-    Here's a young maid with travel much oppress'd
-    And faints for succor.
-CORIN
-    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:
-    My master is of churlish disposition
-    And little recks to find the way to heaven
-    By doing deeds of hospitality:
-    Besides, his cote, his flocks and bounds of feed
-    Are now on sale, and at our sheepcote now,
-    By reason of his absence, there is nothing
-    That you will feed on; but what is, come see.
-    And in my voice most welcome shall you be.
-ROSALIND
-    What is he that shall buy his flock and pasture?
-CORIN
-    That young swain that you saw here but erewhile,
-    That little cares for buying any thing.
-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.
-CELIA
-    And we will mend thy wages. I like this place.
-    And willingly could waste my time in it.
-CORIN
-    Assuredly the thing is to be sold:
-    Go with me: if you like upon report
-    The soil, the profit and this kind of life,
-    I will your very faithful feeder be
-    And buy it with your gold right suddenly.
-    Exeunt
-SCENE V. The Forest.
-    Enter AMIENS, JAQUES, and others
-    SONG.
-AMIENS
-    Under the greenwood tree
-    Who loves to lie with me,
-    And turn his merry note
-    Unto the sweet bird's throat,
-    Come hither, come hither, come hither:
-    Here shall he see No enemy
-    But winter and rough weather.
-JAQUES
-    More, more, I prithee, more.
-AMIENS
-    It will make you melancholy, Monsieur Jaques.
-JAQUES
-    I thank it. More, I prithee, more. I can suck
-    melancholy out of a song, as a weasel sucks eggs.
-    More, I prithee, more.
-AMIENS
-    My voice is ragged: I know I cannot please you.
-JAQUES
-    I do not desire you to please me; I do desire you to
-    sing. Come, more; another stanzo: call you 'em stanzos?
-AMIENS
-    What you will, Monsieur Jaques.
-JAQUES
-    Nay, I care not for their names; they owe me
-    nothing. Will you sing?
-AMIENS
-    More at your request than to please myself.
-JAQUES
-    Well then, if ever I thank any man, I'll thank you;
-    but that they call compliment is like the encounter
-    of two dog-apes, and when a man thanks me heartily,
-    methinks I have given him a penny and he renders me
-    the beggarly thanks. Come, sing; and you that will
-    not, hold your tongues.
-AMIENS
-    Well, I'll end the song. Sirs, cover the while; the
-    duke will drink under this tree. He hath been all
-    this day to look you.
-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. Come, warble, come.
-    SONG.
-    Who doth ambition shun
-    All together here
-    And loves to live i' the sun,
-    Seeking the food he eats
-    And pleased with what he gets,
-    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.
-AMIENS
-    And I'll sing it.
-JAQUES
-    Thus it goes:--
-    If it do come to pass
-    That any man turn ass,
-    Leaving his wealth and ease,
-    A stubborn will to please,
-    Ducdame, ducdame, ducdame:
-    Here shall he see
-    Gross fools as he,
-    An if he will come to me.
-AMIENS
-    What's that 'ducdame'?
-JAQUES
-    'Tis a Greek invocation, to call fools into a
-    circle. I'll go sleep, if I can; if I cannot, I'll
-    rail against all the first-born of Egypt.
-AMIENS
-    And I'll go seek the duke: his banquet is prepared.
-    Exeunt severally
-SCENE VI. The forest.
-    Enter ORLANDO and ADAM
-ADAM
-    Dear master, I can go no further. O, I die for food!
-    Here lie I down, and measure out my grave. Farewell,
-    kind master.
-ORLANDO
-    Why, how now, Adam! no greater heart in thee? Live
-    a little; comfort a little; cheer thyself a little.
-    If this uncouth forest yield any thing 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 at
-    the arm's end: I will here be with thee presently;
-    and if I bring thee not something to eat, I will
-    give thee leave to die: but if thou diest before I
-    come, thou art a mocker of my labour. Well said!
-    thou lookest cheerly, and I'll be with thee quickly.
-    Yet thou liest in the bleak air: come, I will bear
-    thee to some shelter; and thou shalt not die for
-    lack of a dinner, if there live any thing in this
-    desert. Cheerly, good Adam!
-    Exeunt
-SCENE VII. The forest.
-    A table set out. Enter DUKE SENIOR, AMIENS, and Lords like outlaws
-DUKE SENIOR
-    I think he be transform'd into a beast;
-    For I can no where find him like a man.
-First Lord
-    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.
-    Enter JAQUES
-First Lord
-    He saves my labour 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!
-JAQUES
-    A fool, a fool! I met a fool i' the forest,
-    A motley fool; a miserable world!
-    As I do live by food, I met a fool
-    Who laid him down and bask'd him in the sun,
-    And rail'd on Lady Fortune in good terms,
-    In good set terms and yet a motley fool.
-    '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-lustre eye,
-    Says very wisely, 'It is ten o'clock:
-    Thus we may see,' quoth he, 'how the world wags:
-    'Tis but an hour ago since it was nine,
-    And after one hour more 'twill be eleven;
-    And so, from hour to hour, we ripe and ripe,
-    And then, from hour to hour, we rot and rot;
-    And thereby hangs a tale.' When I did hear
-    The motley fool thus moral on the time,
-    My lungs began to crow like chanticleer,
-    That fools should be so deep-contemplative,
-    And I did laugh sans intermission
-    An hour by his dial. O noble fool!
-    A worthy fool! Motley's the only wear.
-DUKE SENIOR
-    What fool is this?
-JAQUES
-    O worthy fool! One that hath been a courtier,
-    And says, if ladies be but young and fair,
-    They have the gift to know it: and in his brain,
-    Which is as dry as the remainder biscuit
-    After a voyage, he hath strange places cramm'd
-    With observation, the which he vents
-    In mangled forms. O 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
-    Of all opinion that grows rank in them
-    That I am wise. I must have liberty
-    Withal, as large a charter as the wind,
-    To blow on whom I please; for so fools have;
-    And they that are most galled with my folly,
-    They most must laugh. And why, sir, must they so?
-    The 'why' is plain as way to parish church:
-    He that a fool doth very wisely hit
-    Doth very foolishly, although he smart,
-    Not to seem senseless of the bob: if not,
-    The wise man's folly is anatomized
-    Even by the squandering 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 the infected world,
-    If they will patiently receive my medicine.
-DUKE SENIOR
-    Fie on thee! I can tell what thou wouldst do.
-JAQUES
-    What, for a counter, would I do but good?
-DUKE SENIOR
-    Most mischievous foul sin, in chiding sin:
-    For thou thyself hast been a libertine,
-    As sensual as the brutish sting itself;
-    And all the embossed sores and headed evils,
-    That thou with licence of free foot hast caught,
-    Wouldst thou disgorge into the general world.
-JAQUES
-    Why, who cries out on pride,
-    That can therein tax any private party?
-    Doth it not flow as hugely as the sea,
-    Till that the weary very means do ebb?
-    What woman in the city do I name,
-    When that I say the city-woman bears
-    The cost of princes on unworthy shoulders?
-    Who can come in and say that I mean her,
-    When such a one as she such is her neighbour?
-    Or what is he of basest function
-    That says his bravery is not of my cost,
-    Thinking that I mean him, but therein suits
-    His folly to the mettle of my speech?
-    There then; how then? what then? Let me see wherein
-    My tongue hath wrong'd him: if it do him right,
-    Then he hath wrong'd himself; if he be free,
-    Why then my taxing like a wild-goose flies,
-    Unclaim'd of any man. But who comes here?
-    Enter ORLANDO, with his sword drawn
-ORLANDO
-    Forbear, and eat no more.
-JAQUES
-    Why, I have eat none yet.
-ORLANDO
-    Nor shalt not, till necessity be served.
-JAQUES
-    Of what kind should this cock come of?
-DUKE SENIOR
-    Art thou thus bolden'd, man, by thy distress,
-    Or else a rude despiser of good manners,
-    That in civility thou seem'st so empty?
-ORLANDO
-    You touch'd 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
-    Till I and my affairs are answered.
-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 move us to gentleness.
-ORLANDO
-    I almost die for food; and let me have it.
-DUKE SENIOR
-    Sit down and feed, and welcome to our table.
-ORLANDO
-    Speak you so gently? Pardon me, I pray you:
-    I thought that all things had been savage here;
-    And therefore put I on the countenance
-    Of stern commandment. But whate'er you are
-    That in this desert inaccessible,
-    Under the shade of melancholy boughs,
-    Lose and neglect the creeping hours of time
-    If ever you have look'd on better days,
-    If ever been where bells have knoll'd 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,
-    Let gentleness my strong enforcement be:
-    In the which hope I blush, and hide my sword.
-DUKE SENIOR
-    True is it that we have seen better days,
-    And have with holy bell been knoll'd to church
-    And sat at good men's feasts and wiped our eyes
-    Of drops that sacred pity hath engender'd:
-    And therefore sit you down in gentleness
-    And take upon command what help we have
-    That to your wanting may be minister'd.
-ORLANDO
-    Then but forbear your food a little while,
-    Whiles, like a doe, I go to find my fawn
-    And give it food. There is an old poor man,
-    Who after me hath many a weary step
-    Limp'd in pure love: till he be first sufficed,
-    Oppress'd with two weak evils, age and hunger,
-    I 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 seest we are not all alone unhappy:
-    This wide and universal theatre
-    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:
-    They have their exits and their entrances;
-    And one man in his time plays many parts,
-    His acts being seven ages. At first the infant,
-    Mewling and puking in the nurse's arms.
-    And then the whining school-boy, with his satchel
-    And shining morning face, creeping like snail
-    Unwillingly to school. And then the lover,
-    Sighing like furnace, with a woeful ballad
-    Made to his mistress' eyebrow. Then a soldier,
-    Full of strange oaths and bearded like the pard,
-    Jealous in honour, 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,
-    Full of wise saws and modern instances;
-    And so he plays his part. The sixth age shifts
-    Into the lean and slipper'd pantaloon,
-    With spectacles on nose and pouch on side,
-    His youthful hose, well saved, a world too wide
-    For his shrunk shank; and his big manly voice,
-    Turning again toward childish treble, pipes
-    And whistles in his sound. Last scene of all,
-    That ends this strange eventful history,
-    Is second childishness and mere oblivion,
-    Sans teeth, sans eyes, sans taste, sans everything.
-    Re-enter ORLANDO, with ADAM
-DUKE SENIOR
-    Welcome. Set down your venerable burthen,
-    And let him feed.
-ORLANDO
-    I thank you most for him.
-ADAM
-    So had you need:
-    I scarce can speak to thank you for myself.
-DUKE SENIOR
-    Welcome; fall to: I will not trouble you
-    As yet, to question you about your fortunes.
-    Give us some music; and, good cousin, sing.
-    SONG.
-AMIENS
-    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.
-    Heigh-ho! sing, heigh-ho! unto the green holly:
-    Most friendship is feigning, most loving mere folly:
-    Then, heigh-ho, the holly!
-    This life is most jolly.
-    Freeze, freeze, thou bitter sky,
-    That dost not bite so nigh
-    As benefits forgot:
-    Though thou the waters warp,
-    Thy sting is not so sharp
-    As friend remember'd not.
-    Heigh-ho! sing, & c.
-DUKE SENIOR
-    If that you were the good Sir Rowland's son,
-    As you have whisper'd faithfully you were,
-    And as mine eye doth his effigies witness
-    Most truly limn'd and living in your face,
-    Be truly welcome hither: I am the duke
-    That loved your father: the residue of your fortune,
-    Go to my cave and tell me. Good old man,
-    Thou art right welcome as thy master is.
-    Support him by the arm. Give me your hand,
-    And let me all your fortunes understand.
-    Exeunt
-ACT III
-SCENE I. A room in the palace.
-    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:
-    Find out thy brother, wheresoe'er he is;
-    Seek him with candle; bring him dead or living
-    Within this twelvemonth, or turn thou no more
-    To seek a living in our territory.
-    Thy lands and all things that thou dost call thine
-    Worth seizure do we seize into our hands,
-    Till thou canst quit thee by thy brothers mouth
-    Of what we think against thee.
-OLIVER
-    O that your highness knew my heart in this!
-    I never loved my brother in my life.
-DUKE FREDERICK
-    More villain thou. Well, push him out of doors;
-    And let my officers of such a nature
-    Make an extent upon his house and lands:
-    Do this expediently and turn him going.
-    Exeunt
-SCENE II. The forest.
-    Enter ORLANDO, with a paper
-ORLANDO
-    Hang there, my verse, in witness of my love:
-    And thou, thrice-crowned queen of night, survey
-    With thy chaste eye, from thy pale sphere above,
-    Thy huntress' name that my full life doth sway.
-    O Rosalind! these trees shall be my books
-    And in their barks my thoughts I'll character;
-    That every eye which in this forest looks
-    Shall see thy virtue witness'd every where.
-    Run, run, Orlando; carve on every tree
-    The fair, the chaste and unexpressive she.
-    Exit
-    Enter CORIN and 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 naught. In respect that it is solitary, I
-    like it very well; but in respect that it is
-    private, it is a very vile life. Now, in respect it
-    is in the fields, it pleaseth me well; but in
-    respect it is not in the court, it is tedious. As
-    is it a spare life, look you, it fits my humour well;
-    but as there is no more plenty in it, it goes much
-    against my stomach. Hast any philosophy 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 the property of rain is to wet and fire to
-    burn; that good pasture makes fat sheep, and that a
-    great cause of the night is lack of the sun; that
-    he that hath learned no wit by nature nor art may
-    complain of good breeding or comes of a very dull kindred.
-TOUCHSTONE
-    Such a one is a natural philosopher. Wast ever in
-    court, shepherd?
-CORIN
-    No, truly.
-TOUCHSTONE
-    Then thou art damned.
-CORIN
-    Nay, I hope.
-TOUCHSTONE
-    Truly, thou art damned like an ill-roasted egg, all
-    on one side.
-CORIN
-    For not being at court? Your reason.
-TOUCHSTONE
-    Why, if thou never wast at court, thou never sawest
-    good manners; if thou never sawest good manners,
-    then thy manners must be wicked; and wickedness is
-    sin, and sin is damnation. Thou art in a parlous
-    state, shepherd.
-CORIN
-    Not a whit, Touchstone: those that are good manners
-    at the court are as ridiculous in the country as the
-    behavior of the country is most mockable at the
-    court. You told me you salute not at the court, but
-    you kiss your hands: that courtesy would be
-    uncleanly, if courtiers were shepherds.
-TOUCHSTONE
-    Instance, briefly; come, instance.
-CORIN
-    Why, we are still handling our ewes, and their
-    fells, you know, are greasy.
-TOUCHSTONE
-    Why, do not your courtier's hands sweat? and is not
-    the grease of a mutton as wholesome as the sweat of
-    a man? Shallow, shallow. A better instance, I say; come.
-CORIN
-    Besides, our hands are hard.
-TOUCHSTONE
-    Your lips will feel them the sooner. Shallow again.
-    A more sounder instance, come.
-CORIN
-    And they are often tarred over with the surgery of
-    our sheep: and would you have us kiss tar? The
-    courtier's hands are perfumed with civet.
-TOUCHSTONE
-    Most shallow man! thou worms-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
-    very uncleanly flux of a cat. Mend the instance, shepherd.
-CORIN
-    You have too courtly a wit for me: I'll rest.
-TOUCHSTONE
-    Wilt thou rest damned? God help thee, shallow man!
-    God make incision in thee! thou art raw.
-CORIN
-    Sir, I am a true labourer: 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.
-TOUCHSTONE
-    That is another simple sin in you, to bring the ewes
-    and the rams together and to offer to get your
-    living by the copulation of cattle; to be bawd to a
-    bell-wether, and to betray a she-lamb of a
-    twelvemonth to a crooked-pated, old, cuckoldly ram,
-    out of all reasonable match. If thou beest not
-    damned for this, the devil himself will have no
-    shepherds; I cannot see else how thou shouldst
-    'scape.
-CORIN
-    Here comes young Master Ganymede, my new mistress's brother.
-    Enter ROSALIND, with a paper, reading
-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.
-    All the pictures fairest lined
-    Are but black to Rosalind.
-    Let no fair be kept in mind
-    But the fair of Rosalind.
-TOUCHSTONE
-    I'll rhyme you so eight years together, dinners and
-    suppers and sleeping-hours excepted: it is the
-    right butter-women's rank to market.
-ROSALIND
-    Out, fool!
-TOUCHSTONE
-    For a taste:
-    If a hart do lack a hind,
-    Let him seek out Rosalind.
-    If the cat will after kind,
-    So be sure will Rosalind.
-    Winter garments must be lined,
-    So must slender Rosalind.
-    They that reap must sheaf and bind;
-    Then to cart with Rosalind.
-    Sweetest nut hath sourest rind,
-    Such a nut is Rosalind.
-    He that sweetest rose will find
-    Must find love's prick and Rosalind.
-    This is the very false gallop of verses: why do you
-    infect yourself with them?
-ROSALIND
-    Peace, you dull fool! I found them on a tree.
-TOUCHSTONE
-    Truly, the tree yields bad fruit.
-ROSALIND
-    I'll graff it with you, and then I shall graff it
-    with a medlar: then it will be the earliest fruit
-    i' the 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
-    forest judge.
-    Enter CELIA, with a writing
-ROSALIND
-    Peace! Here comes my sister, reading: stand aside.
-CELIA
-    [Reads]
-    Why should this a desert be?
-    For it is unpeopled? No:
-    Tongues I'll hang on every tree,
-    That shall civil sayings show:
-    Some, how brief the life of man
-    Runs his erring pilgrimage,
-    That the stretching of a span
-    Buckles in his sum of age;
-    Some, of violated vows
-    'Twixt the souls of friend and friend:
-    But upon the fairest boughs,
-    Or at every sentence end,
-    Will I Rosalinda write,
-    Teaching all that read to know
-    The quintessence of every sprite
-    Heaven would in little show.
-    Therefore Heaven Nature charged
-    That one body should be fill'd
-    With all graces wide-enlarged:
-    Nature presently distill'd
-    Helen's cheek, but not her heart,
-    Cleopatra's majesty,
-    Atalanta's better part,
-    Sad Lucretia's modesty.
-    Thus Rosalind of many parts
-    By heavenly synod was devised,
-    Of many faces, eyes and hearts,
-    To have the touches dearest prized.
-    Heaven would that she these gifts should have,
-    And I to live and die her slave.
-ROSALIND
-    O most gentle pulpiter! what tedious homily of love
-    have you wearied your parishioners withal, and never
-    cried 'Have patience, good people!'
-CELIA
-    How now! back, friends! Shepherd, go off a little.
-    Go with him, sirrah.
-TOUCHSTONE
-    Come, shepherd, let us make an honourable retreat;
-    though not with bag and baggage, yet with scrip and scrippage.
-    Exeunt CORIN and TOUCHSTONE
-CELIA
-    Didst thou hear these verses?
-ROSALIND
-    O, yes, I heard them all, and more too; for some of
-    them had in them more feet than the verses would bear.
-CELIA
-    That's no matter: the feet might bear the verses.
-ROSALIND
-    Ay, but the feet were lame and could not bear
-    themselves without the verse and therefore stood
-    lamely in the verse.
-CELIA
-    But didst thou hear without wondering how thy name
-    should be hanged and carved upon these trees?
-ROSALIND
-    I was seven of the nine days out of the wonder
-    before you came; for look here what I found on a
-    palm-tree. I was never so be-rhymed since
-    Pythagoras' time, that I was an Irish rat, which I
-    can hardly remember.
-CELIA
-    Trow you who hath done this?
-ROSALIND
-    Is it a man?
-CELIA
-    And a chain, that you once wore, about his neck.
-    Change you colour?
-ROSALIND
-    I prithee, who?
-CELIA
-    O 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?
-ROSALIND
-    Nay, I prithee now with most petitionary vehemence,
-    tell me who it is.
-CELIA
-    O wonderful, wonderful, and most wonderful
-    wonderful! and yet again wonderful, and after that,
-    out of all hooping!
-ROSALIND
-    Good my complexion! dost thou think, though I am
-    caparisoned like a man, I have a doublet and hose in
-    my disposition? One inch of delay more is a
-    South-sea of discovery; I prithee, tell me who is it
-    quickly, and speak apace. I would thou couldst
-    stammer, that thou mightst pour this concealed man
-    out of thy mouth, as wine comes out of a narrow-
-    mouthed bottle, either too much at once, or none at
-    all. I prithee, take the cork out of thy mouth that
-    may drink thy tidings.
-CELIA
-    So you may put a man in your belly.
-ROSALIND
-    Is he of God's making? What manner of man? Is his
-    head worth a hat, or his chin worth a beard?
-CELIA
-    Nay, he hath but a little beard.
-ROSALIND
-    Why, God will send more, if the man will be
-    thankful: let me stay the growth of his beard, if
-    thou delay me not the knowledge of his chin.
-CELIA
-    It is young Orlando, that tripped up the wrestler's
-    heels and your heart both in an instant.
-ROSALIND
-    Nay, but the devil take mocking: speak, sad brow and
-    true maid.
-CELIA
-    I' faith, coz, 'tis he.
-ROSALIND
-    Orlando?
-CELIA
-    Orlando.
-ROSALIND
-    Alas the day! what shall I do with my doublet and
-    hose? What did he when thou sawest him? What said
-    he? How looked he? Wherein went he? What makes
-    him 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: '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 he wrestled?
-CELIA
-    It is as easy to count atomies as to resolve the
-    propositions of a lover; but take a taste of my
-    finding him, and relish it with good observance.
-    I found him under a tree, like a dropped acorn.
-ROSALIND
-    It may well be called Jove's tree, when it drops
-    forth such fruit.
-CELIA
-    Give me audience, good madam.
-ROSALIND
-    Proceed.
-CELIA
-    There lay he, stretched along, like a wounded knight.
-ROSALIND
-    Though it be pity to see such a sight, it well
-    becomes the ground.
-CELIA
-    Cry 'holla' to thy tongue, I prithee; it curvets
-    unseasonably. He was furnished like a hunter.
-ROSALIND
-    O, ominous! he comes to kill my heart.
-CELIA
-    I would sing my song without a burden: thou bringest
-    me out of tune.
-ROSALIND
-    Do you not know I am a woman? when I think, I must
-    speak. Sweet, say on.
-CELIA
-    You bring me out. Soft! comes he not here?
-    Enter ORLANDO and JAQUES
-ROSALIND
-    'Tis he: slink by, and note him.
-JAQUES
-    I thank you for your company; but, good faith, I had
-    as lief have been myself alone.
-ORLANDO
-    And so had I; but yet, for fashion sake, I thank you
-    too for your society.
-JAQUES
-    God be 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
-    love-songs in their barks.
-ORLANDO
-    I pray you, mar no more of my verses with reading
-    them ill-favouredly.
-JAQUES
-    Rosalind is your love's name?
-ORLANDO
-    Yes, just.
-JAQUES
-    I do not like her name.
-ORLANDO
-    There was no thought of pleasing you when she was
-    christened.
-JAQUES
-    What stature is she of?
-ORLANDO
-    Just as high as my heart.
-JAQUES
-    You are full of pretty answers. Have you not been
-    acquainted with goldsmiths' wives, and conned them
-    out of rings?
-ORLANDO
-    Not so; but I answer you right painted cloth, from
-    whence you have studied your questions.
-JAQUES
-    You have a nimble wit: I think 'twas made of
-    Atalanta's heels. Will you sit down with me? and
-    we two will rail against our mistress the world and
-    all our misery.
-ORLANDO
-    I will chide no breather in the world but myself,
-    against whom I know most faults.
-JAQUES
-    The worst fault you have is to be in love.
-ORLANDO
-    'Tis a fault I will not change for your best virtue.
-    I am weary of you.
-JAQUES
-    By my troth, I was seeking for a fool when I found
-    you.
-ORLANDO
-    He is drowned in the brook: look but in, and you
-    shall see him.
-JAQUES
-    There I shall see mine own figure.
-ORLANDO
-    Which I take to be either a fool or a cipher.
-JAQUES
-    I'll tarry no longer with you: farewell, good
-    Signior Love.
-ORLANDO
-    I am glad of your departure: adieu, good Monsieur
-    Melancholy.
-    Exit JAQUES
-ROSALIND
-    [Aside to CELIA] I will speak to him, like a saucy
-    lackey and under that habit play the knave with him.
-    Do you hear, forester?
-ORLANDO
-    Very well: what would you?
-ROSALIND
-    I pray you, what is't o'clock?
-ORLANDO
-    You should ask me what time o' day: there's no clock
-    in the forest.
-ROSALIND
-    Then there is no true lover in the forest; else
-    sighing every minute and groaning every hour would
-    detect the lazy foot of Time as well as a clock.
-ORLANDO
-    And why not the swift foot of Time? had not that
-    been as proper?
-ROSALIND
-    By no means, sir: Time travels in divers paces with
-    divers persons. I'll tell you who Time ambles
-    withal, who Time trots withal, who Time gallops
-    withal and who he stands still withal.
-ORLANDO
-    I prithee, who doth he trot withal?
-ROSALIND
-    Marry, he trots hard with a young maid between the
-    contract of her marriage and the day it is
-    solemnized: if the interim be but a se'nnight,
-    Time's pace is so hard that it seems the length of
-    seven year.
-ORLANDO
-    Who ambles Time withal?
-ROSALIND
-    With a priest that lacks Latin and a rich man that
-    hath not the gout, for the one sleeps easily because
-    he cannot study, and the other lives merrily because
-    he feels no pain, the one lacking the burden of lean
-    and wasteful learning, the other knowing no burden
-    of heavy tedious penury; these Time ambles withal.
-ORLANDO
-    Who doth he gallop withal?
-ROSALIND
-    With a thief to the gallows, for though he go as
-    softly as foot can fall, he thinks himself too soon there.
-ORLANDO
-    Who stays it still withal?
-ROSALIND
-    With lawyers in the vacation, for they sleep between
-    term and term and then they perceive not how Time moves.
-ORLANDO
-    Where dwell you, pretty youth?
-ROSALIND
-    With this shepherdess, my sister; here in the
-    skirts of the forest, like fringe upon a petticoat.
-ORLANDO
-    Are you native of this place?
-ROSALIND
-    As the cony that you see dwell where she is kindled.
-ORLANDO
-    Your accent is something finer than you could
-    purchase in so removed a dwelling.
-ROSALIND
-    I have been told so of many: but indeed an old
-    religious uncle of mine taught me to speak, who was
-    in his youth an inland man; one that knew courtship
-    too well, for there he fell in love. I have heard
-    him read many lectures against it, and I thank God
-    I am not a woman, to be touched with so many
-    giddy offences as he hath generally taxed their
-    whole sex withal.
-ORLANDO
-    Can you remember any of the principal evils that he
-    laid to the charge of women?
-ROSALIND
-    There were none principal; they were all like one
-    another as half-pence 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 that
-    are sick. There is a man haunts the forest, that
-    abuses our young plants with carving 'Rosalind' on
-    their barks; hangs odes upon hawthorns and elegies
-    on brambles, all, forsooth, deifying the name of
-    Rosalind: if I could meet that fancy-monger I would
-    give him some good counsel, for he seems to have the
-    quotidian of love upon him.
-ORLANDO
-    I am he that is so love-shaked: I pray you tell me
-    your remedy.
-ROSALIND
-    There is none of my uncle's marks upon you: he
-    taught me how to know a man in love; in which cage
-    of rushes I am sure you are not prisoner.
-ORLANDO
-    What were his marks?
-ROSALIND
-    A lean cheek, which you have not, a blue eye and
-    sunken, which you have not, an unquestionable
-    spirit, which you have not, a beard neglected,
-    which you have not; but I pardon you for that, for
-    simply your having in beard is a younger brother's
-    revenue: then your hose should be ungartered, your
-    bonnet unbanded, your sleeve unbuttoned, your shoe
-    untied and every thing about you demonstrating a
-    careless desolation; but you are no such man; you
-    are rather point-device in your accoutrements as
-    loving yourself than seeming the lover of any other.
-ORLANDO
-    Fair youth, I would I could make thee believe I love.
-ROSALIND
-    Me believe it! you may as soon make her that you
-    love believe it; which, I warrant, she is apter to
-    do than to confess she does: that is one of the
-    points in the which women still give the lie to
-    their consciences. But, in good sooth, are you he
-    that hangs the verses on the trees, wherein Rosalind
-    is so admired?
-ORLANDO
-    I swear to thee, youth, by the white hand of
-    Rosalind, I am that he, that unfortunate he.
-ROSALIND
-    But are you so much in love as your rhymes speak?
-ORLANDO
-    Neither rhyme nor reason can express how much.
-ROSALIND
-    Love is merely a madness, and, I tell you, deserves
-    as well a dark house and a whip as madmen do: and
-    the reason why they are not so punished and cured
-    is, that the lunacy is so ordinary that the whippers
-    are in love too. Yet I profess curing it by counsel.
-ORLANDO
-    Did you ever cure any so?
-ROSALIND
-    Yes, one, and in this manner. He was to imagine me
-    his love, his mistress; and I set him every day to
-    woo me: at which time would I, being but a moonish
-    youth, grieve, be effeminate, changeable, longing
-    and liking, proud, fantastical, apish, shallow,
-    inconstant, full of tears, full of smiles, for every
-    passion something and for no passion truly any
-    thing, as boys and women are for the most part
-    cattle of this colour; would now like him, now loathe
-    him; then entertain him, then forswear him; now weep
-    for him, then spit at him; that I drave my suitor
-    from his mad humour of love to a living humour 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 as clean as a sound sheep's
-    heart, that there shall not be one spot of love in't.
-ORLANDO
-    I would not be cured, youth.
-ROSALIND
-    I would cure you, if you would but call me Rosalind
-    and come every day to my cote and woo me.
-ORLANDO
-    Now, by the faith of my love, I will: tell me
-    where it is.
-ROSALIND
-    Go with me to it and I'll show it you and by the way
-    you shall tell me where in the forest you live.
-    Will you go?
-ORLANDO
-    With all my heart, good youth.
-ROSALIND
-    Nay you must call me Rosalind. Come, sister, will you go?
-    Exeunt
-SCENE III. The forest.
-    Enter TOUCHSTONE and AUDREY; JAQUES behind
-TOUCHSTONE
-    Come apace, good Audrey: I will fetch up your
-    goats, Audrey. And how, Audrey? am I the man yet?
-    doth my simple feature content you?
-AUDREY
-    Your features! Lord warrant us! what features!
-TOUCHSTONE
-    I am here with thee and thy goats, as the most
-    capricious poet, honest Ovid, was among the Goths.
-JAQUES
-    [Aside] O 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, it strikes a man more dead than a
-    great reckoning in a little room. Truly, I would
-    the gods had made thee poetical.
-AUDREY
-    I do not know what 'poetical' is: is it honest in
-    deed and word? is it a true thing?
-TOUCHSTONE
-    No, truly; for the truest poetry is the most
-    feigning; and lovers are given to poetry, and what
-    they swear in poetry may be said as lovers they do feign.
-AUDREY
-    Do you wish then that the gods had made me poetical?
-TOUCHSTONE
-    I do, truly; for thou swearest 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-favoured; for
-    honesty coupled to beauty is to have honey a sauce to sugar.
-JAQUES
-    [Aside] A material fool!
-AUDREY
-    Well, I am not fair; and therefore I pray the gods
-    make me honest.
-TOUCHSTONE
-    Truly, and to cast away honesty upon a foul slut
-    were to put good meat into an unclean dish.
-AUDREY
-    I am not a slut, though I thank the gods I am foul.
-TOUCHSTONE
-    Well, praised be the gods for thy foulness!
-    sluttishness may come hereafter. But be it as it may
-    be, I will marry thee, and to that end I have been
-    with Sir Oliver Martext, the vicar of the next
-    village, who hath promised to meet me in this place
-    of the forest and to couple us.
-JAQUES
-    [Aside] I would fain see this meeting.
-AUDREY
-    Well, the gods give us joy!
-TOUCHSTONE
-    Amen. A man may, if he were of a fearful heart,
-    stagger in this attempt; for here we have no temple
-    but the wood, no assembly but horn-beasts. But what
-    though? C ourage! 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? No, no; the noblest deer
-    hath them as huge as the rascal. Is the single man
-    therefore blessed? No: as a walled town is more
-    worthier than a village, so is the forehead of a
-    married man more honourable than the bare brow of a
-    bachelor; and by how much defence is better than no
-    skill, by so much is a horn more precious than to
-    want. Here comes Sir Oliver.
-    Enter SIR OLIVER MARTEXT
-    Sir Oliver Martext, you are well met: will you
-    dispatch us here under this tree, or shall we go
-    with you to your chapel?
-SIR OLIVER MARTEXT
-    Is there none here to give the woman?
-TOUCHSTONE
-    I will not take her on gift of any man.
-SIR OLIVER MARTEXT
-    Truly, she must be given, or the marriage is not lawful.
-JAQUES
-    [Advancing]
-    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.
-JAQUES
-    Will you be married, motley?
-TOUCHSTONE
-    As the ox hath his bow, sir, the horse his curb and
-    the falcon her bells, so man hath his desires; and
-    as pigeons bill, so wedlock would be nibbling.
-JAQUES
-    And will you, being a man of your breeding, be
-    married under a bush like a beggar? Get you to
-    church, and have a good priest that can tell you
-    what marriage is: this fellow will but join you
-    together as they join wainscot; then one of you will
-    prove a shrunk panel and, like green timber, warp, warp.
-TOUCHSTONE
-    [Aside] 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, and let me counsel thee.
-TOUCHSTONE
-    'Come, sweet Audrey:
-    We must be married, or we must live in bawdry.
-    Farewell, good Master Oliver: not,--
-    O sweet Oliver,
-    O brave Oliver,
-    Leave me not behind thee: but,--
-    Wind away,
-    Begone, I say,
-    I will not to wedding with thee.
-    Exeunt JAQUES, TOUCHSTONE and AUDREY
-SIR OLIVER MARTEXT
-    'Tis no matter: ne'er a fantastical knave of them
-    all shall flout me out of my calling.
-    Exit
-SCENE IV. The forest.
-    Enter ROSALIND and CELIA
-ROSALIND
-    Never talk to me; I will weep.
-CELIA
-    Do, I prithee; but yet have the grace to consider
-    that tears do not become a man.
-ROSALIND
-    But have I not cause to weep?
-CELIA
-    As good cause as one would desire; therefore weep.
-ROSALIND
-    His very hair is of the dissembling colour.
-CELIA
-    Something browner than Judas's marry, his kisses are
-    Judas's own children.
-ROSALIND
-    I' faith, his hair is of a good colour.
-CELIA
-    An excellent colour: your chestnut was ever the only colour.
-ROSALIND
-    And his kissing is as full of sanctity as the touch
-    of holy bread.
-CELIA
-    He hath bought a pair of cast lips of Diana: a nun
-    of winter's sisterhood kisses not more religiously;
-    the very ice of chastity is in them.
-ROSALIND
-    But why did he swear he would come this morning, and
-    comes not?
-CELIA
-    Nay, certainly, there is no truth in him.
-ROSALIND
-    Do you think so?
-CELIA
-    Yes; I think he is not a pick-purse 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.
-ROSALIND
-    Not true in love?
-CELIA
-    Yes, when he is in; but I think he is not in.
-ROSALIND
-    You have heard him swear downright he was.
-CELIA
-    'Was' is not 'is:' besides, the oath of a lover is
-    no stronger than the word of a tapster; they are
-    both the confirmer of false reckonings. He attends
-    here in the forest on the duke your father.
-ROSALIND
-    I met the duke yesterday and had much question with
-    him: he asked me of what parentage I was; I told
-    him, of as good as he; so he laughed and let me go.
-    But what talk we of fathers, when there is such a
-    man as Orlando?
-CELIA
-    O, 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; as a puisny 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
-    After the shepherd that complain'd 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?
-CORIN
-    If you will see a pageant truly play'd,
-    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.
-ROSALIND
-    O, 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
-SCENE V. Another part of the forest.
-    Enter SILVIUS and PHEBE
-SILVIUS
-    Sweet Phebe, do not scorn me; do not, Phebe;
-    Say that you love me not, but say not so
-    In bitterness. The common executioner,
-    Whose heart the accustom'd sight of death makes hard,
-    Falls not the axe 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, behind
-PHEBE
-    I would not be thy executioner:
-    I fly thee, for I would not injure thee.
-    Thou tell'st me there is murder in mine eye:
-    'Tis pretty, sure, and very probable,
-    That eyes, that are the frail'st and softest things,
-    Who shut their coward gates on atomies,
-    Should be call'd 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, O, for shame, for shame,
-    Lie not, to say mine eyes are murderers!
-    Now show the wound mine eye hath made in thee:
-    Scratch thee but with a pin, and there remains
-    Some scar of it; lean but upon a rush,
-    The cicatrice and capable impressure
-    Thy palm some moment keeps; but now mine eyes,
-    Which I have darted at thee, hurt thee not,
-    Nor, I am sure, there is no force in eyes
-    That can do hurt.
-SILVIUS
-    O dear Phebe,
-    If ever,--as that ever may be near,--
-    You meet in some fresh cheek the power of fancy,
-    Then shall you know the wounds invisible
-    That love's keen arrows make.
-PHEBE
-    But till that time
-    Come not thou near me: and when that time comes,
-    Afflict me with thy mocks, pity me not;
-    As till that time I shall not pity thee.
-ROSALIND
-    And why, I pray you? Who might be your mother,
-    That you insult, exult, and all at once,
-    Over the wretched? What though you have no beauty,--
-    As, by my faith, I see no more in you
-    Than without candle may go dark to bed--
-    Must you be therefore proud and pitiless?
-    Why, what means this? Why do you look on me?
-    I see no more in you than in the ordinary
-    Of nature's sale-work. 'Od's my little life,
-    I think she means to tangle my eyes too!
-    No, faith, proud mistress, hope not after it:
-    'Tis not your inky brows, your black silk hair,
-    Your bugle eyeballs, nor your cheek of cream,
-    That can entame my spirits to your worship.
-    You foolish shepherd, wherefore do you follow her,
-    Like foggy south puffing with wind and rain?
-    You are a thousand times a properer man
-    Than she a woman: 'tis such fools as you
-    That makes the world full of ill-favour'd 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.
-    But, mistress, know yourself: down on your knees,
-    And thank heaven, fasting, for a good man's love:
-    For I must tell you friendly in your ear,
-    Sell when you can: you are not for all markets:
-    Cry the man mercy; love him; take his offer:
-    Foul is most foul, being foul to be a scoffer.
-    So take her to thee, shepherd: fare you well.
-PHEBE
-    Sweet youth, I pray you, chide a year together:
-    I had rather hear you chide than this man woo.
-ROSALIND
-    He's fallen in love with your foulness and she'll
-    fall in love with my anger. If it be so, as fast as
-    she answers thee with frowning looks, I'll sauce her
-    with bitter words. Why look you so upon me?
-PHEBE
-    For no ill will I bear you.
-ROSALIND
-    I pray you, do not fall in love with me,
-    For I am falser than vows made in wine:
-    Besides, I like you not. 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,
-    And be not proud: though all the world could see,
-    None could be so abused in sight as he.
-    Come, to our flock.
-    Exeunt ROSALIND, CELIA and CORIN
-PHEBE
-    Dead Shepherd, now I find thy saw of might,
-    'Who ever loved that loved not at first sight?'
-SILVIUS
-    Sweet Phebe,--
-PHEBE
-    Ha, what say'st thou, Silvius?
-SILVIUS
-    Sweet Phebe, pity me.
-PHEBE
-    Why, I am sorry for thee, gentle Silvius.
-SILVIUS
-    Wherever sorrow is, relief would be:
-    If you do sorrow at my grief in love,
-    By giving love your sorrow and my grief
-    Were both extermined.
-PHEBE
-    Thou hast my love: is not that neighbourly?
-SILVIUS
-    I would have you.
-PHEBE
-    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,
-    I will endure, and I'll employ thee too:
-    But do not look for further recompense
-    Than thine own gladness that thou art employ'd.
-SILVIUS
-    So holy and so perfect is my love,
-    And I in such a poverty of grace,
-    That I shall think it a most plenteous crop
-    To glean the broken ears after the man
-    That the main harvest reaps: loose now and then
-    A scatter'd smile, and that I'll live upon.
-PHEBE
-    Know'st now the youth that spoke to me erewhile?
-SILVIUS
-    Not very well, but I have met him oft;
-    And he hath bought the cottage and the bounds
-    That the old carlot once was master of.
-PHEBE
-    Think not I love him, though I ask for him:
-    'Tis but a peevish boy; yet he talks well;
-    But what care I for words? yet words do well
-    When he that speaks them pleases those that hear.
-    It is a pretty youth: not very pretty:
-    But, sure, he's proud, and yet his pride becomes him:
-    He'll make a proper man: the best thing in him
-    Is his complexion; and faster than his tongue
-    Did make offence 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,
-    A little riper and more lusty red
-    Than that mix'd in his cheek; 'twas just the difference
-    Between the constant red and mingled damask.
-    There be some women, Silvius, had they mark'd him
-    In parcels as I did, would have gone near
-    To fall in love with him; but, for my part,
-    I love him not nor hate him not; and yet
-    I have more cause to hate him than to love him:
-    For what had he to do to chide at me?
-    He said mine eyes were black and my hair black:
-    And, now I am remember'd, scorn'd at me:
-    I marvel why I answer'd 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?
-SILVIUS
-    Phebe, with all my heart.
-PHEBE
-    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
-ACT IV
-SCENE I. The forest.
-    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.
-JAQUES
-    I am so; I do love it better than laughing.
-ROSALIND
-    Those that are in extremity of either are abominable
-    fellows and betray themselves to every modern
-    censure worse than drunkards.
-JAQUES
-    Why, 'tis good to be sad and say nothing.
-ROSALIND
-    Why then, 'tis good to be a post.
-JAQUES
-    I have neither the scholar's melancholy, which is
-    emulation, nor the musician's, which is fantastical,
-    nor the courtier's, which is proud, nor the
-    soldier's, which is ambitious, nor the lawyer's,
-    which is politic, nor the lady's, which is nice, nor
-    the lover's, which is all these: but it is a
-    melancholy of mine own, compounded of many simples,
-    extracted from many objects, and indeed the sundry's
-    contemplation of my travels, in which my often
-    rumination wraps me m a most humorous sadness.
-ROSALIND
-    A traveller! 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.
-JAQUES
-    Yes, I have gained my experience.
-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!
-    Enter ORLANDO
-ORLANDO
-    Good day and happiness, dear Rosalind!
-JAQUES
-    Nay, then, God be wi' you, an you talk in blank verse.
-    Exit
-ROSALIND
-    Farewell, Monsieur Traveller: look you lisp and
-    wear strange suits, disable all the benefits of your
-    own country, be out of love with your nativity and
-    almost chide God for making you that countenance you
-    are, or I will scarce think you have swam in a
-    gondola. Why, how now, Orlando! where have you been
-    all this while? You a lover! An you serve me such
-    another trick, never come in my sight more.
-ORLANDO
-    My fair Rosalind, I come within an hour of my promise.
-ROSALIND
-    Break an hour's promise in love! He that will
-    divide a minute into a thousand parts and break but
-    a part of the thousandth part of a minute in the
-    affairs of love, it may be said of him that Cupid
-    hath clapped him o' the shoulder, but I'll warrant
-    him heart-whole.
-ORLANDO
-    Pardon me, dear Rosalind.
-ROSALIND
-    Nay, an you be so tardy, come no more in my sight: I
-    had as lief be wooed of a snail.
-ORLANDO
-    Of a snail?
-ROSALIND
-    Ay, of a snail; for though he comes slowly, he
-    carries his house on his head; a better jointure,
-    I think, than you make a woman: besides he brings
-    his destiny with him.
-ORLANDO
-    What's that?
-ROSALIND
-    Why, horns, which such as you are fain to be
-    beholding to your wives for: but he comes armed in
-    his fortune and prevents the slander of his wife.
-ORLANDO
-    Virtue is no horn-maker; and my Rosalind is virtuous.
-ROSALIND
-    And I am your Rosalind.
-CELIA
-    It pleases him to call you so; but he hath a
-    Rosalind of a better leer than you.
-ROSALIND
-    Come, woo me, woo me, for now I am in a holiday
-    humour and like enough to consent. What would you
-    say to me now, an I were your very very Rosalind?
-ORLANDO
-    I would kiss before I spoke.
-ROSALIND
-    Nay, you were better speak first, and when you were
-    gravelled 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!--matter, the cleanliest shift is to kiss.
-ORLANDO
-    How if the kiss be denied?
-ROSALIND
-    Then she puts you to entreaty, and there begins new matter.
-ORLANDO
-    Who could be out, being before his beloved mistress?
-ROSALIND
-    Marry, that should you, if I were your mistress, or
-    I should think my honesty ranker than my wit.
-ORLANDO
-    What, of my suit?
-ROSALIND
-    Not out of your apparel, and yet out of your suit.
-    Am not I your Rosalind?
-ORLANDO
-    I take some joy to say you are, because I would be
-    talking of her.
-ROSALIND
-    Well in her person I say I will not have you.
-ORLANDO
-    Then in mine own person I die.
-ROSALIND
-    No, faith, die by attorney. The poor world is
-    almost six thousand years old, and in all this time
-    there was not any man died in his own person,
-    videlicit, in a love-cause. Troilus had his brains
-    dashed out with a Grecian club; yet he did what he
-    could to die before, and he is one of the patterns
-    of love. Leander, he would have lived many a fair
-    year, though Hero had turned nun, if it had not been
-    for a hot midsummer night; for, good youth, he went
-    but forth to wash him in the Hellespont and being
-    taken with the cramp was drowned and the foolish
-    coroners 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.
-ORLANDO
-    I would not have my right Rosalind of this mind,
-    for, I protest, her frown might kill me.
-ROSALIND
-    By this hand, it will not kill a fly. But come, now
-    I will be your Rosalind in a more coming-on
-    disposition, and ask me what you will. I will grant
-    it.
-ORLANDO
-    Then love me, Rosalind.
-ROSALIND
-    Yes, faith, will I, Fridays and Saturdays and all.
-ORLANDO
-    And wilt thou have me?
-ROSALIND
-    Ay, and twenty such.
-ORLANDO
-    What sayest thou?
-ROSALIND
-    Are you not good?
-ORLANDO
-    I hope so.
-ROSALIND
-    Why then, can one desire too much of a good thing?
-    Come, sister, you shall be the priest and marry us.
-    Give me your hand, Orlando. What do you say, sister?
-ORLANDO
-    Pray thee, marry us.
-CELIA
-    I cannot say the words.
-ROSALIND
-    You must begin, 'Will you, Orlando--'
-CELIA
-    Go to. Will you, Orlando, have to wife this Rosalind?
-ORLANDO
-    I will.
-ROSALIND
-    Ay, but when?
-ORLANDO
-    Why now; as fast as she can marry us.
-ROSALIND
-    Then you must say 'I take thee, Rosalind, for wife.'
-ORLANDO
-    I take thee, Rosalind, for wife.
-ROSALIND
-    I might ask you for your commission; but I do take
-    thee, Orlando, for my husband: there's a girl goes
-    before the priest; and certainly a woman's thought
-    runs before her actions.
-ORLANDO
-    So do all thoughts; they are winged.
-ROSALIND
-    Now tell me how long you would have her after you
-    have possessed her.
-ORLANDO
-    For ever and a day.
-ROSALIND
-    Say 'a day,' without the 'ever.' No, no, Orlando;
-    men are April when they woo, December when they wed:
-    maids are May when they are maids, but the sky
-    changes when they are wives. I will be more jealous
-    of thee than a Barbary cock-pigeon over his hen,
-    more clamorous than a parrot against rain, more
-    new-fangled 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 hyen, and
-    that when thou art inclined to sleep.
-ORLANDO
-    But will my Rosalind do so?
-ROSALIND
-    By my life, she will do as I do.
-ORLANDO
-    O, but she is wise.
-ROSALIND
-    Or else she could not have the wit to do this: the
-    wiser, the waywarder: make the doors upon a woman's
-    wit and it will out at the casement; shut that and
-    'twill out at the key-hole; stop that, 'twill fly
-    with the smoke out at the chimney.
-ORLANDO
-    A man that had a wife with such a wit, he might say
-    'Wit, whither wilt?'
-ROSALIND
-    Nay, you might keep that cheque for it till you met
-    your wife's wit going to your neighbour's bed.
-ORLANDO
-    And what wit could wit have to excuse that?
-ROSALIND
-    Marry, to say she came to seek you there. You shall
-    never take her without her answer, unless you take
-    her without her tongue. O, 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.
-ROSALIND
-    Alas! dear love, I cannot lack thee two hours.
-ORLANDO
-    I must attend the duke at dinner: by two o'clock I
-    will be with thee again.
-ROSALIND
-    Ay, go your ways, go your ways; I knew what you
-    would prove: my friends told me as much, and I
-    thought no less: that flattering tongue of yours
-    won me: 'tis but one cast away, and so, come,
-    death! Two o'clock is your hour?
-ORLANDO
-    Ay, sweet Rosalind.
-ROSALIND
-    By my troth, and in good earnest, and so God mend
-    me, and by all pretty oaths that are not dangerous,
-    if you break one jot of your promise or come one
-    minute behind your hour, I will think you the most
-    pathetical break-promise and the most hollow lover
-    and the most unworthy of her you call Rosalind that
-    may be chosen out of the gross band of the
-    unfaithful: therefore beware my censure and keep
-    your promise.
-ORLANDO
-    With no less religion than if thou wert indeed my
-    Rosalind: so adieu.
-ROSALIND
-    Well, Time is the old justice that examines all such
-    offenders, and let Time try: adieu.
-    Exit ORLANDO
-CELIA
-    You have simply misused our sex in your love-prate:
-    we must have your doublet and hose plucked over your
-    head, and show the world what the bird hath done to
-    her own nest.
-ROSALIND
-    O 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.
-CELIA
-    Or rather, bottomless, that as fast as you pour
-    affection in, it runs out.
-ROSALIND
-    No, that same wicked bastard of Venus that was begot
-    of thought, conceived of spleen and born of madness,
-    that blind rascally boy that abuses every one's eyes
-    because his own are out, let him be judge how deep I
-    am in love. I'll tell thee, Aliena, I cannot be out
-    of the sight of Orlando: I'll go find a shadow and
-    sigh till he come.
-CELIA
-    And I'll sleep.
-    Exeunt
-SCENE II. The forest.
-    Enter JAQUES, Lords, and Foresters
-JAQUES
-    Which is he that killed the deer?
-A Lord
-    Sir, it was I.
-JAQUES
-    Let's present him to the duke, like a Roman
-    conqueror; and it would do well to set the deer's
-    horns upon his head, for a branch of victory. Have
-    you no song, forester, for this purpose?
-Forester
-    Yes, sir.
-JAQUES
-    Sing it: 'tis no matter how it be in tune, so it
-    make noise enough.
-    SONG.
-Forester
-    What shall he have that kill'd the deer?
-    His leather skin and horns to wear.
-    Then sing him home;
-    The rest shall bear this burden
-    Take thou no scorn to wear the horn;
-    It was a crest ere thou wast born:
-    Thy father's father wore it,
-    And thy father bore it:
-    The horn, the horn, the lusty horn
-    Is not a thing to laugh to scorn.
-    Exeunt
-SCENE III. The forest.
-    Enter ROSALIND and CELIA
-ROSALIND
-    How say you now? Is it not past two o'clock? and
-    here much Orlando!
-CELIA
-    I warrant you, with pure love and troubled brain, he
-    hath ta'en his bow and arrows and is gone forth to
-    sleep. Look, who comes here.
-    Enter SILVIUS
-SILVIUS
-    My errand is to you, fair youth;
-    My gentle Phebe bid me give you this:
-    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:
-    I am but as a guiltless messenger.
-ROSALIND
-    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,
-    Were man as rare as phoenix. 'Od's my will!
-    Her love is not the hare that I do hunt:
-    Why writes she so to me? Well, shepherd, well,
-    This is a letter of your own device.
-SILVIUS
-    No, I protest, I know not the contents:
-    Phebe did write it.
-ROSALIND
-    Come, come, you are a fool
-    And turn'd into the extremity of love.
-    I saw her hand: she has a leathern hand.
-    A freestone-colour'd hand; I verily did think
-    That her old gloves were on, but 'twas her hands:
-    She has a huswife's hand; but that's no matter:
-    I say she never did invent this letter;
-    This is a man's invention and his hand.
-SILVIUS
-    Sure, it is hers.
-ROSALIND
-    Why, 'tis a boisterous and a cruel style.
-    A style for-challengers; why, she defies me,
-    Like Turk to Christian: women's gentle brain
-    Could not drop forth such giant-rude invention
-    Such Ethiope words, blacker in their effect
-    Than in their countenance. Will you hear the letter?
-SILVIUS
-    So please you, for I never heard it yet;
-    Yet heard too much of Phebe's cruelty.
-ROSALIND
-    She Phebes me: mark how the tyrant writes.
-    Reads
-    Art thou god to shepherd turn'd,
-    That a maiden's heart hath burn'd?
-    Can a woman rail thus?
-SILVIUS
-    Call you this railing?
-ROSALIND
-    [Reads]
-    Why, thy godhead laid apart,
-    Warr'st thou with a woman's heart?
-    Did you ever hear such railing?
-    Whiles the eye of man did woo me,
-    That could do no vengeance to me.
-    Meaning me a beast.
-    If the scorn of your bright eyne
-    Have power to raise such love in mine,
-    Alack, in me what strange effect
-    Would they work in mild aspect!
-    Whiles you chid me, I did love;
-    How then might your prayers move!
-    He that brings this love to thee
-    Little knows this love in me:
-    And by him seal up thy mind;
-    Whether that thy youth and kind
-    Will the faithful offer take
-    Of me and all that I can make;
-    Or else by him my love deny,
-    And then I'll study how to die.
-SILVIUS
-    Call you this chiding?
-CELIA
-    Alas, poor shepherd!
-ROSALIND
-    Do you pity him? no, he deserves no pity. Wilt
-    thou love such a woman? What, to make thee an
-    instrument and play false strains upon thee! not to
-    be endured! Well, go your way to her, for I see
-    love hath made thee a tame snake, and say this to
-    her: that if she love me, I charge her to love
-    thee; if she will not, I will never have her unless
-    thou entreat for her. If you be a true lover,
-    hence, and not a word; for here comes more company.
-    Exit SILVIUS
-    Enter OLIVER
-OLIVER
-    Good morrow, fair ones: pray you, if you know,
-    Where in the purlieus of this forest stands
-    A sheep-cote fenced about with olive trees?
-CELIA
-    West of this place, down in the neighbour bottom:
-    The rank of osiers by the murmuring stream
-    Left on your right hand brings you to the place.
-    But at this hour the house doth keep itself;
-    There's none within.
-OLIVER
-    If that an eye may profit by a tongue,
-    Then should I know you by description;
-    Such garments and such years: 'The boy is fair,
-    Of female favour, 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?
-CELIA
-    It is no boast, being ask'd, 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?
-ROSALIND
-    I am: what must we understand by this?
-OLIVER
-    Some of my shame; if you will know of me
-    What man I am, and how, and why, and where
-    This handkercher was stain'd.
-CELIA
-    I pray you, tell it.
-OLIVER
-    When last the young Orlando parted from you
-    He left a promise to return again
-    Within an hour, and pacing through the forest,
-    Chewing the food of sweet and bitter fancy,
-    Lo, what befell! he threw his eye aside,
-    And mark what object did present itself:
-    Under an oak, whose boughs were moss'd 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,
-    Who with her head nimble in threats approach'd
-    The opening of his mouth; but suddenly,
-    Seeing Orlando, it unlink'd itself,
-    And with indented glides did slip away
-    Into a bush: under which bush's shade
-    A lioness, with udders all drawn dry,
-    Lay couching, head on ground, with catlike watch,
-    When that the sleeping man should stir; for 'tis
-    The royal disposition of that beast
-    To prey on nothing that doth seem as dead:
-    This seen, Orlando did approach the man
-    And found it was his brother, his elder brother.
-CELIA
-    O, I have heard him speak of that same brother;
-    And he did render him the most unnatural
-    That lived amongst men.
-OLIVER
-    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 suck'd and hungry lioness?
-OLIVER
-    Twice did he turn his back and purposed so;
-    But kindness, nobler ever than revenge,
-    And nature, stronger than his just occasion,
-    Made him give battle to the lioness,
-    Who quickly fell before him: in which hurtling
-    From miserable slumber I awaked.
-CELIA
-    Are you his brother?
-ROSALIND
-    Wast 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
-    So 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,
-    As how I came into that desert place:--
-    In brief, he led me to the gentle duke,
-    Who gave me fresh array and entertainment,
-    Committing me unto my brother's love;
-    Who led me instantly unto his cave,
-    There stripp'd 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 recover'd him, bound up his wound;
-    And, after some small space, being strong at heart,
-    He sent me hither, stranger as I am,
-    To tell this story, that you might excuse
-    His broken promise, and to give this napkin
-    Dyed in his blood unto the shepherd youth
-    That he in sport doth call his Rosalind.
-    ROSALIND swoons
-CELIA
-    Why, how now, Ganymede! sweet Ganymede!
-OLIVER
-    Many will swoon when they do look on blood.
-CELIA
-    There is more in it. Cousin Ganymede!
-OLIVER
-    Look, he recovers.
-ROSALIND
-    I would I were at home.
-CELIA
-    We'll lead you thither.
-    I pray you, will you take him by the arm?
-OLIVER
-    Be of good cheer, youth: you a man! you lack a
-    man's heart.
-ROSALIND
-    I do so, I confess it. Ah, sirrah, a body would
-    think this was well counterfeited! I pray you, tell
-    your brother how well I counterfeited. Heigh-ho!
-OLIVER
-    This was not counterfeit: there is too great
-    testimony in your complexion that it was a passion
-    of earnest.
-ROSALIND
-    Counterfeit, I assure you.
-OLIVER
-    Well then, take a good heart and counterfeit to be a man.
-ROSALIND
-    So I do: but, i' faith, I should have been a woman by right.
-CELIA
-    Come, you look paler and paler: pray you, draw
-    homewards. Good sir, go with us.
-OLIVER
-    That will I, for I must bear answer back
-    How you excuse my brother, Rosalind.
-ROSALIND
-    I shall devise something: but, I pray you, commend
-    my counterfeiting to him. Will you go?
-    Exeunt
-ACT V
-SCENE I. The forest.
-    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.
-TOUCHSTONE
-    A most wicked Sir Oliver, Audrey, a most vile
-    Martext. 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.
-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.
-    Enter WILLIAM
-WILLIAM
-    Good even, Audrey.
-AUDREY
-    God ye good even, William.
-WILLIAM
-    And good even to you, sir.
-TOUCHSTONE
-    Good even, gentle friend. Cover thy head, cover thy
-    head; nay, prithee, be covered. How old are you, friend?
-WILLIAM
-    Five and twenty, sir.
-TOUCHSTONE
-    A ripe age. Is thy name William?
-WILLIAM
-    William, sir.
-TOUCHSTONE
-    A fair name. Wast born i' the forest here?
-WILLIAM
-    Ay, sir, I thank God.
-TOUCHSTONE
-    'Thank God;' a good answer. Art rich?
-WILLIAM
-    Faith, sir, so so.
-TOUCHSTONE
-    'So so' is good, very good, very excellent good; and
-    yet it is not; it is but so so. Art thou wise?
-WILLIAM
-    Ay, sir, I have a pretty wit.
-TOUCHSTONE
-    Why, thou sayest 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, when he had a desire to eat a grape,
-    would open his lips when he put it into his mouth;
-    meaning thereby that grapes were made to eat and
-    lips to open. You do love this maid?
-WILLIAM
-    I do, sir.
-TOUCHSTONE
-    Give me your hand. Art thou learned?
-WILLIAM
-    No, sir.
-TOUCHSTONE
-    Then learn this of me: to have, is to have; for it
-    is a figure in rhetoric that drink, being poured out
-    of a cup into a glass, by filling the one doth empty
-    the other; for all your writers do consent that ipse
-    is he: now, you are not ipse, for I am he.
-WILLIAM
-    Which he, sir?
-TOUCHSTONE
-    He, sir, that must marry this woman. Therefore, you
-    clown, abandon,--which is in the vulgar leave,--the
-    society,--which in the boorish is company,--of this
-    female,--which in the common is woman; which
-    together is, abandon the society of this female, or,
-    clown, thou perishest; or, to thy better
-    understanding, diest; or, to wit I kill thee, make
-    thee away, translate thy life into death, thy
-    liberty into bondage: I will deal in poison with
-    thee, or in bastinado, or in steel; I will bandy
-    with thee in faction; I will o'errun thee with
-    policy; I will kill thee a hundred and fifty ways:
-    therefore tremble and depart.
-AUDREY
-    Do, good William.
-WILLIAM
-    God rest you merry, sir.
-    Exit
-    Enter CORIN
-CORIN
-    Our master and mistress seeks you; come, away, away!
-TOUCHSTONE
-    Trip, Audrey! trip, Audrey! I attend, I attend.
-    Exeunt
-SCENE II. The forest.
-    Enter ORLANDO and OLIVER
-ORLANDO
-    Is't possible that on so little acquaintance you
-    should like her? that but seeing you should love
-    her? and loving woo? and, wooing, she should
-    grant? and will you persever to enjoy her?
-OLIVER
-    Neither call the giddiness of it in question, the
-    poverty of her, the small acquaintance, my sudden
-    wooing, nor her sudden consenting; but say with me,
-    I love Aliena; say with her that she loves me;
-    consent with both that we may enjoy each other: it
-    shall be to your good; for my father's house and all
-    the revenue that was old Sir Rowland's will I
-    estate upon you, and here live and die a shepherd.
-ORLANDO
-    You have my consent. Let your wedding be to-morrow:
-    thither will I invite the duke and all's contented
-    followers. Go you and prepare Aliena; for look
-    you, here comes my Rosalind.
-    Enter ROSALIND
-ROSALIND
-    God save you, brother.
-OLIVER
-    And you, fair sister.
-    Exit
-ROSALIND
-    O, my dear Orlando, how it grieves me to see thee
-    wear thy heart in a scarf!
-ORLANDO
-    It is my arm.
-ROSALIND
-    I thought thy heart had been wounded with the claws
-    of a lion.
-ORLANDO
-    Wounded it is, but with the eyes of a lady.
-ROSALIND
-    Did your brother tell you how I counterfeited to
-    swoon when he showed me your handkerchief?
-ORLANDO
-    Ay, and greater wonders than that.
-ROSALIND
-    O, I know where you are: nay, 'tis true: there was
-    never any thing so sudden but the fight of two rams
-    and Caesar's thrasonical brag of 'I came, saw, and
-    overcame:' for your brother and my sister no sooner
-    met but they looked, no sooner looked but they
-    loved, no sooner loved but they sighed, no sooner
-    sighed but they asked one another the reason, no
-    sooner knew the reason but they sought the remedy;
-    and in these degrees have they made a pair of stairs
-    to marriage which they will climb incontinent, or
-    else be incontinent before marriage: they are in
-    the very wrath of love and they will together; clubs
-    cannot part them.
-ORLANDO
-    They shall be married to-morrow, and I will bid the
-    duke to the nuptial. But, O, how bitter a thing it
-    is to look into happiness through another man's
-    eyes! By so much the more shall I to-morrow be at
-    the height of heart-heaviness, by how much I shall
-    think my brother happy in having what he wishes for.
-ROSALIND
-    Why then, to-morrow I cannot serve your turn for Rosalind?
-ORLANDO
-    I can live no longer by thinking.
-ROSALIND
-    I will weary you then no longer with idle talking.
-    Know of me then, for now I speak to some purpose,
-    that I know you are a gentleman of good conceit: I
-    speak not this that you should bear a good opinion
-    of my knowledge, insomuch I say I know you are;
-    neither do I labour 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 his art and yet not
-    damnable. If you do love Rosalind so near the heart
-    as your gesture cries it out, when your brother
-    marries Aliena, shall you marry her: I know into
-    what straits of fortune she is driven; and it is
-    not impossible to me, if it appear not inconvenient
-    to you, to set her before your eyes tomorrow human
-    as she is and without any danger.
-ORLANDO
-    Speakest 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: bid your friends; for if you will be
-    married to-morrow, you shall, and to Rosalind, if you will.
-    Enter SILVIUS and PHEBE
-    Look, here comes a lover of mine and a lover of hers.
-PHEBE
-    Youth, you have done me much ungentleness,
-    To show the letter that I writ to you.
-ROSALIND
-    I care not if I have: it is my study
-    To seem despiteful and ungentle to you:
-    You are there followed by a faithful shepherd;
-    Look upon him, love him; he worships you.
-PHEBE
-    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 Phebe.
-PHEBE
-    And I for Ganymede.
-ORLANDO
-    And I for Rosalind.
-ROSALIND
-    And I for no woman.
-SILVIUS
-    It is to be all made of faith and service;
-    And so am I for Phebe.
-PHEBE
-    And I for Ganymede.
-ORLANDO
-    And I for Rosalind.
-ROSALIND
-    And I for no woman.
-SILVIUS
-    It is to be all made of fantasy,
-    All made of passion and all made of wishes,
-    All adoration, duty, and observance,
-    All humbleness, all patience and impatience,
-    All purity, all trial, all observance;
-    And so am I for Phebe.
-PHEBE
-    And so am I for Ganymede.
-ORLANDO
-    And so am I for Rosalind.
-ROSALIND
-    And so am I for no woman.
-PHEBE
-    If this be so, why blame you me to love you?
-SILVIUS
-    If this be so, why blame you me to love you?
-ORLANDO
-    If this be so, why blame you me to love you?
-ROSALIND
-    Who do you speak to, 'Why blame you me to love you?'
-ORLANDO
-    To her that is not here, nor doth not hear.
-ROSALIND
-    Pray you, no more of this; 'tis like the howling
-    of Irish wolves against the moon.
-    To SILVIUS
-    I will help you, if I can:
-    To PHEBE
-    I would love you, if I could. To-morrow meet me all together.
-    To PHEBE
-    I will marry you, if ever I marry woman, and I'll be
-    married to-morrow:
-    To ORLANDO
-    I will satisfy you, if ever I satisfied man, and you
-    shall be married to-morrow:
-    To SILVIUS
-    I will content you, if what pleases you contents
-    you, and you shall be married to-morrow.
-    To ORLANDO
-    As you love Rosalind, meet:
-    To SILVIUS
-    as you love Phebe, meet: and as I love no woman,
-    I'll meet. So fare you well: I have left you commands.
-SILVIUS
-    I'll not fail, if I live.
-PHEBE
-    Nor I.
-ORLANDO
-    Nor I.
-    Exeunt
-SCENE III. The forest.
-    Enter TOUCHSTONE and AUDREY
-TOUCHSTONE
-    To-morrow is the joyful day, Audrey; to-morrow will
-    we be married.
-AUDREY
-    I do desire it with all my heart; and I hope it is
-    no dishonest desire to desire to be a woman of the
-    world. Here comes 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.
-Second Page
-    We are for you: sit i' the 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
-    gipsies on a horse.
-    SONG.
-    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
-    In the 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,
-    In spring time, & c.
-    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, & c.
-    And therefore take the present time,
-    With a hey, and a ho, and a hey nonino;
-    For love is crowned with the prime
-    In spring time, & c.
-TOUCHSTONE
-    Truly, young gentlemen, though there was no great
-    matter in the ditty, yet the note was very
-    untuneable.
-First Page
-    You are deceived, sir: we kept time, we lost not our time.
-TOUCHSTONE
-    By my troth, yes; I count it but time lost to hear
-    such a foolish song. God be wi' you; and God mend
-    your voices! Come, Audrey.
-    Exeunt
-SCENE IV. The forest.
-    Enter DUKE SENIOR, AMIENS, JAQUES, ORLANDO, OLIVER, and CELIA
-DUKE SENIOR
-    Dost thou believe, Orlando, that the boy
-    Can do all this that he hath promised?
-ORLANDO
-    I sometimes do believe, and sometimes do not;
-    As those that fear they hope, and know they fear.
-    Enter ROSALIND, SILVIUS, and PHEBE
-ROSALIND
-    Patience once more, whiles our compact is urged:
-    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
-    And you say, you will have her, when I bring her?
-ORLANDO
-    That would I, were I of all kingdoms king.
-ROSALIND
-    You say, you'll marry me, if I be willing?
-PHEBE
-    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?
-PHEBE
-    So is the bargain.
-ROSALIND
-    You say, that you'll have Phebe, if she will?
-SILVIUS
-    Though to have her and death were both one thing.
-ROSALIND
-    I have promised to make all this matter even.
-    Keep you your word, O duke, to give your daughter;
-    You yours, Orlando, to receive his daughter:
-    Keep your word, Phebe, that you'll marry me,
-    Or else refusing me, to wed this shepherd:
-    Keep your word, Silvius, that you'll marry her.
-    If she refuse me: and from hence I go,
-    To make these doubts all even.
-    Exeunt ROSALIND and CELIA
-DUKE SENIOR
-    I do remember in this shepherd boy
-    Some lively touches of my daughter's favour.
-ORLANDO
-    My lord, the first time that I ever saw him
-    Methought he was a brother to your daughter:
-    But, my good lord, this boy is forest-born,
-    And hath been tutor'd in the rudiments
-    Of many desperate studies by his uncle,
-    Whom he reports to be a great magician,
-    Obscured in the circle of this forest.
-    Enter TOUCHSTONE and AUDREY
-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 fools.
-TOUCHSTONE
-    Salutation and greeting to you all!
-JAQUES
-    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.
-TOUCHSTONE
-    If any man doubt that, let him put me to my
-    purgation. I have trod a measure; I have flattered
-    a lady; I have been politic with my friend, smooth
-    with mine enemy; I have undone three tailors; I have
-    had four quarrels, and like to have fought one.
-JAQUES
-    And how was that ta'en up?
-TOUCHSTONE
-    Faith, we met, and found the quarrel was upon the
-    seventh cause.
-JAQUES
-    How seventh cause? Good my lord, like this fellow.
-DUKE SENIOR
-    I like him very well.
-TOUCHSTONE
-    God 'ild you, sir; I desire you of the like. I
-    press in here, sir, amongst the rest of the country
-    copulatives, to swear and to forswear: according as
-    marriage binds and blood breaks: a poor virgin,
-    sir, an ill-favoured thing, sir, but mine own; a poor
-    humour 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.
-TOUCHSTONE
-    According to the fool's bolt, sir, and such dulcet diseases.
-JAQUES
-    But, for the seventh cause; how did you find the
-    quarrel on the seventh cause?
-TOUCHSTONE
-    Upon a lie seven times removed:--bear your body more
-    seeming, Audrey:--as thus, sir. I did dislike the
-    cut of a certain courtier's beard: he sent me word,
-    if I said his beard was not cut well, he was in the
-    mind it was: this is called the Retort Courteous.
-    If I sent him word again 'it was not well cut,' he
-    would send me word, he cut it to please himself:
-    this is called the Quip Modest. If again 'it was
-    not well cut,' he disabled my judgment: this is
-    called the Reply Churlish. If again 'it was not
-    well cut,' he would answer, I spake not true: this
-    is called the Reproof Valiant. If again 'it was not
-    well cut,' he would say I lied: this is called the
-    Counter-cheque 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,
-    nor he durst not give me the Lie Direct; and so we
-    measured swords and parted.
-JAQUES
-    Can you nominate in order now the degrees of the lie?
-TOUCHSTONE
-    O sir, we quarrel in print, by the book; as you have
-    books for good manners: I will name you the degrees.
-    The first, the Retort Courteous; the second, the
-    Quip Modest; the third, the Reply Churlish; the
-    fourth, the Reproof Valiant; the fifth, the
-    Countercheque Quarrelsome; the sixth, the Lie with
-    Circumstance; the seventh, the Lie Direct. All
-    these you may avoid but the Lie Direct; and you may
-    avoid that too, with an If. I knew when seven
-    justices could not take up a quarrel, but when the
-    parties were met themselves, one of them thought but
-    of an If, as, 'If you said so, then I said so;' and
-    they shook hands and swore brothers. Your If is the
-    only peacemaker; much virtue in If.
-JAQUES
-    Is not this a rare fellow, my lord? he's as good at
-    any thing and yet a fool.
-DUKE SENIOR
-    He uses his folly like a stalking-horse and under
-    the presentation of that he shoots his wit.
-    Enter HYMEN, ROSALIND, and CELIA
-    Still Music
-HYMEN
-    Then is there mirth in heaven,
-    When earthly things made even
-    Atone together.
-    Good duke, receive thy daughter
-    Hymen from heaven brought her,
-    Yea, brought her hither,
-    That thou mightst join her hand with his
-    Whose heart within his bosom is.
-ROSALIND
-    [To DUKE SENIOR] 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.
-PHEBE
-    If sight and shape be true,
-    Why then, my love adieu!
-ROSALIND
-    I'll have no father, if you be not he:
-    I'll have no husband, if you be not he:
-    Nor ne'er wed woman, if you be not she.
-HYMEN
-    Peace, ho! I bar confusion:
-    '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.
-    You and you no cross shall part:
-    You and you are heart in heart
-    You to his love must accord,
-    Or have a woman to your lord:
-    You and you are sure together,
-    As the winter to foul weather.
-    Whiles a wedlock-hymn we sing,
-    Feed yourselves with questioning;
-    That reason wonder may diminish,
-    How thus we met, and these things finish.
-    SONG.
-    Wedding is great Juno's crown:
-    O blessed bond of board and bed!
-    'Tis Hymen peoples every town;
-    High wedlock then be honoured:
-    Honour, high honour and renown,
-    To Hymen, god of every town!
-DUKE SENIOR
-    O my dear niece, welcome thou art to me!
-    Even daughter, welcome, in no less degree.
-PHEBE
-    I will not eat my word, now thou art mine;
-    Thy faith my fancy to thee doth combine.
-    Enter 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.
-    Duke Frederick, hearing how that every day
-    Men of great worth resorted to this forest,
-    Address'd a mighty power; which were on foot,
-    In his own conduct, purposely to take
-    His brother here and put him to the sword:
-    And to the skirts of this wild wood he came;
-    Where meeting with an old religious man,
-    After some question with him, was converted
-    Both from his enterprise and from the world,
-    His crown bequeathing to his banish'd brother,
-    And all their lands restored to them again
-    That were with him exiled. This to be true,
-    I do engage my life.
-DUKE SENIOR
-    Welcome, young man;
-    Thou offer'st fairly to thy brothers' wedding:
-    To one his lands withheld, and to the other
-    A land itself at large, a potent dukedom.
-    First, in this forest, let us do those ends
-    That here were well begun and well begot:
-    And after, every of this happy number
-    That have endured shrewd days and nights with us
-    Shall share the good of our returned fortune,
-    According to the measure of their states.
-    Meantime, forget this new-fall'n dignity
-    And fall into our rustic revelry.
-    Play, music! And you, brides and bridegrooms all,
-    With measure heap'd in joy, to the measures fall.
-JAQUES
-    Sir, by your patience. If I heard you rightly,
-    The duke hath put on a religious life
-    And thrown into neglect the pompous court?
-JAQUES DE BOYS
-    He hath.
-JAQUES
-    To him will I : out of these convertites
-    There is much matter to be heard and learn'd.
-    To DUKE SENIOR
-    You to your former honour I bequeath;
-    Your patience and your virtue well deserves it:
-    To ORLANDO
-    You to a love that your true faith doth merit:
-    To OLIVER
-    You to your land and love and great allies:
-    To SILVIUS
-    You to a long and well-deserved bed:
-    To TOUCHSTONE
-    And you to wrangling; for thy loving voyage
-    Is but for two months victuall'd. So, to your pleasures:
-    I am for other than for dancing measures.
-DUKE SENIOR
-    Stay, Jaques, stay.
-JAQUES
-    To see no pastime I what you would have
-    I'll stay to know at your abandon'd cave.
-    Exit
-DUKE SENIOR
-    Proceed, proceed: we will begin these rites,
-    As we do trust they'll end, in true delights.
-    A dance
-    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; yet to good wine they do use good bushes,
-    and good plays prove the better by the help of good
-    epilogues. What a case am I in then, that am
-    neither a good epilogue nor cannot insinuate with
-    you in the behalf of a good play! I am not
-    furnished like a beggar, therefore to beg will not
-    become me: my way is to conjure you; and I'll begin
-    with the women. I charge you, O women, for the love
-    you bear to men, to like as much of this play as
-    please you: and I charge you, O men, for the love
-    you bear to women--as I perceive by your simpering,
-    none of you hates them--that between you and the
-    women the play may please. If I were a woman I
-    would kiss as many of you as had beards that pleased
-    me, complexions that liked me and breaths that I
-    defied not: and, I am sure, as many as have good
-    beards or good faces or sweet breaths will, for my
-    kind offer, when I make curtsy, bid me farewell.
-    Exeunt
 [[category:plays]]