Enter CORIN. Touch. 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. Will. Good even, Audrey. Aud. God ye good even, William. Will. And good even to you, Sir. Touch. Good even, gentle friend: Cover thy head, cover thy head; nay, pr'ythee, be covered. How old are you, friend? Will. Five and twenty, Sir. Touch. A ripe age: Is thy name, William? Touch. A fair name: Wast born i'the forest here? Will. Ay, Sir, I thank God. Cor. Our master and mistress seek you; come, away, away. Touch. Trip, Audrey, trip, Audrey ;—I attend, I attend. [Exeunt. SCENE II.-The same. Enter ORLANDO and OLIVER. Orl. 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 persévere to enjoy her? Oli. 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. Enter ROSALIND. Orl. You have my consent. Let your wedding be to-morrow: thither will I invite the duke, and all his contented followers: Go you, and prepare Aliena; for, look you, here comes my Rosalind. Ros. God save you, Ros. O, my dear Orlando, how it grieves Ros. I thought, thy heart had been wounded Touch. Thank God;-a good answer: Art with the claws of a lion. rich? Will. 'Faith, Sir, so, so. Touch. So, so, is good, very good, very excellent good:-and yet it is not; it is but so so. Art thou wise? Will. Ay, Sir, I have a pretty wit. Touch. Why, thou say'st well. I do now remember a saying; The fool doth think he is wise, but the wise man knows himself to be a fool. The heathen philosopher, 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? Will. I do, Sir. Touch. Give me your hand: Art thou learned? Touch. 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. Will. Which he, Sir? Touch. 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; 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'er-run thee with policy; I will kill thee a hundred and fifty ways; therefore tremble, and depart. Aud. Do, good William. Orl. Wounded it is, but with the eyes of a lady. Ros. Did your brother tell you how I counterfeited to swoon, when he showed me your handkerchief? Orl. Ay, and greater wonders than that. Ros. O, I know where you are:-Nay, 'tis true: there was never any thing so sudden, but the fight of two rams, and Cæsar'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. Orl. They shall be married to-morrow; and I will bid the duke to the nuptial. But, 0, 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. Ros. Why then, to-morrow I cannot serve your turn for Rosalind? Orl. I can live no longer by thinking. Ros. I will weary you no longer then 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 [Exit. may in some little measure draw a belief from Sil. I'll not fail, if I live. Orl. Nor I. SCENE III.-The same. you, to do yourself good, and not to grace me. Orl. Speakest thou in sober meanings? Enter SILVIUS and PHEBE. Look, here comes a lover of mine, and a lover of hers. Phe. Youth, you have done me much ungentleness, To show the letter that I writ to you. Ros. I care not, if I have: it is my study, Sil. It is to be all made of sighs and tears;- Phe. And I for Ganymede. Sil. It is to be all made of faith and ser And so am I for Phebe. Phe. And I for Ganymede. Orl. And I for Rosalind. Ros. And I for no woman. Sil. It is to be all made of fantasy, [vice ; All made of passion, and all made of wishes; All humbleness, all patience, and impatience, Phe. And so am I for Ganymede. Phe. If this be so, why blame you me to love Ros. Who do you speak to, why blame you Ori. To her, that is not here, nor doth not hear. Ros. Pray you, no more of this; 'tis like the bowling of Irish wolves against the moon.-I will help you, [TO SILVIUS] if I can :-I would love you, [To PHEBE] if I could.-To-morrow meet me all together. I will marry you, [To PHEBE] if ever I marry woman, and I'll be married to-morrow:-I will satisfy you, [To ORLANDO] if ever I satisfied man, and you shall be married to-morrow:-I will content you, [To SILVIUS] if what pleases you contents you, and you shall be married to-morrow.-As you, [To ORLANDO] love Rosalind, meet;-as you, To SILVIUS] love Phebé, meet; And as I love no woman, I'll meet.-So fare you well; 1 have left you commands. * Invite. [Exeunt. Enter TOUCHSTONE and AUDREY. Touch. To-morrow is the joyful day, Aud Aud. 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. 1 Page. Well met, honest gentleman. Touch. By my troth, well met: Come, sit, sit, and a song. 2 Page. We are for you: sit i'the middle. 1 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? 2 Page. I'faith, i'faith; and both in a tune, like two gipsies on a horse. SONG. I. 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 rank time, When birds do sing, hey ding a ding, ding; Sweet lovers love the spring. II. Between the acres of the rye, These pretty country folks would lie, III. And therefore take the present time, With a hey, and a ho, and a hey nonino; Touch. Truly, young gentlemen, though there was no greater matter in the ditty, yet the note was very untunable. 1 Page. You are deceived, Sir; we kept time, we lost not our time. Touch. By my troth, yes; I count it but time lost to hear such a foolish song. God be with you; and God mend your voices! Come, Audrey. [Exeunt. SCENE IV.-Another part of the Forest. Enter DUKE, senior, AMIENS, JAQUES, OrlanDO, OLIVER, and CELIA. Orl. I sometimes do believe, and sometimes Can do all this that he hath promised? Enter ROSALIND, SILVIUS, and PHEBE. [To the DUKE. Ee Duke S. That would I, had I kingdoms to Ros. And you say, you will have her, when Ros. You say, you'll marry me, if I be will- Ros. You say, that you'll have Phebe, if she Ros. I have promis'd to make all this matter even. Keep you your word, O duke, to give your daughter; You yours, Orlando, to receive his daughter:- [Exeunt ROSALIND and CELIA. Duke S. I do remember in this shepherd-boy Some lively touches of my daughter's favour. Orl. My lord, the first time that I ever saw him, Methought he was a brother to your daughter: Enter TOUCHSTONE and AUDREY. Touch. Salutation and greeting to you all! Jaq. 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. Touch. 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 my enemy; I have undone three tailors; I have had four quarrels, and like to have fought one. Jaq. And how was that ta'en up? Touch. 'Faith, we met, and found the quarrel was upon the seventh cause. Jaq. How seventh cause ?-Good my lord, like this fellow. Duke S. I like him very well. Touch. 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, 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 S. By my faith, he is very swift and sententious. Touch. According to the fool's bolt, Sir, and such dulcet diseases. Jaq. But, for the seventh cause; how did you find the quarrel on the seventh cause? A stately solemn dance. # Touch. 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 bis 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 judgement: 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 lie: This is called the Countercheck quarrelsome: and so to the Lie circumstantial, and the Lie direct. Jaq. And how oft did you say, his beard was not well cut? Touch. 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. Jaq. Can you nominate in order now the degrees of the lie? Touch. 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 Countercheck 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. Jaq. Is not this a rare fellow, my lord? he's as good at any thing, and yet a fool. Duke S. He uses his folly like a stalkinghorse, and under the presentation of that, he shoots his wit. Enter HYMEN, leading ROSALIND in woman's Good duke, receive thy daughter, That thou might'st join her hand with his, Ros. To you I give myself, for I am yours. [To DUKE S. [TO ORLANDO. Duke S. If there be truth in sight, you are To you I give myself, for I am yours. my daughter. Orl. If there be truth in sight, you are my Why then, my love adieu! Ros. I'll have no father, if you be not he: [TO DUKE S. I'll have no husband, if you be not he : [To ORLANDO. Nor ne'er wed woman, if you be not she. Hym. Peace ho! I bar confusion: * Seemly. Here's eight that must take hands, If truth holds true contents.* [To ORLANDO and ROSALIND. You and you are heart in heart: [To OLIVER and CELIA. You [To PHEBE] to his love must accord, Or have a woman to your lord :— You and you are sure together, [To TOUCHSTONE and AUDREY. 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 S. O my dear niece, welcome thou art to me; Even daughter, welcome in no less degree. Phe. I will not eat my word, now thou art mine; Thy faith my fancy to thee doth combine.t [TO SILVIUS. Enter JAQUES de Bois. Jaq. de B. Let me have audience for a word or two; I am the second son of old Sir Rowland, His brother here, and put him to the sword: Duke S. Welcome, young man ; Shall share the good of our returned fortune, According to the measure of their states. Meantime, forget this new-fall'n dignity, it: You [To ORLANDO] to a love, that your true faith doth merit : You [To OLIVER] to your land, and love, and great allies: You [To SILVIUS] to a long and well deserved bed; And you [To TOUCHSTONE] to wrangling; for thy loving voyage Is but for two months victual'd:-So to your pleasures; I am for other than for dancing measures. Jaq. To see no pastime, I:-what you would have I'll stay to know at your abandon'd cave. [Exit. Duke S. Proceed, proceed: we will begin these rites, And we do trust they'll end in true delights. EPILOGUE. [A dance. Ros. 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 them: and so I charge you, O men, for the love you bear to women, (as I perceive by your simpering, none of you hate 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,t 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 curt'sy, bid me farewell. [Exeunt. Ber. And I, in going, madam, weep o'er my father's death anew: but I must attend his majesty's command, to whom I am now in ward, evermore in subjection. Laf. You shall find of the king a husband, madam;-you, Sir, a father: He that so generally is at all times good, must of necessity hold his virtue to you; whose worthiness would stir it up where it wanted, rather than lack it where there is such abundance. Count. What hope is there of his majesty's amendment? Laf. A fistula, my lord. Ber. I heard not of it before. Laf. I would, it were not notorious.-Was this gentlewoman the daughter of Gerard de Narbon? Count. His sole child, my lord; and bequeathed to my overlooking. I have those hopes of her good, that her education promises: her dispositions she inherits, which makes fair gifts fairer; for where an unclean mind carries virtuous qualities, there commendations go with pity, they are virtues and traitors too; in her they are the better for their simpleness ;+ she derives her honesty, and achieves her goodness. Luf. Your commendations, madam, get from her tears. Count. 'Tis the best brine a maiden can season her praise in. The remembrance of her father never approaches her heart, but the Laf. He hath abandoned his physicians, ma- tyranny of her sorrows takes all livelihood‡ dam; under whose practices he hath persecut from her cheek. No more of this, Helena, go ed time with hope; and finds no other advan-to, no more; lest it be rather thought you aftage in the process but only the losing of hope fect a sorrow, than to have. by time. Hel. I do affect a sorrow, indeed, but I have Laf. Moderate lamentation is the right of the dead, excessive grief the enemy to the livIng. Count. This young gentlewoman had a fait too. ther, (O, that had!† how sad a passage 'tis !) whose skill was almost as great as his honesty; had it stretched so far, would have made nature immortal, and death should have play for lack of work. 'Would, for the king's sake, he were living! I think, it would be the death of the king's disease. Laf. How called you the man you speak of, madam? Count. He was famous, Sir, in his profession, and it was his great right to be so: Gerard de Narbon. Laf. He was excellent, indeed, madam; the king very lately spoke of him, admiringly, and mourningly he was skilful enough to have lived still, if knowledge could be set up against mortality. Ber. What is it, my good lord, the king languishes of? * Under his particular care, as my guardian. Count. If the living be enemy to the grief, the excess makes it soon mortal. Ber. Madam, I desire your holy wishes. ceed thy father In manners, as in shape! thy blood, and virtue, few, Do wrong to none: be able for thine enemy [will, But never tax'd for speech. What heaven more * Qualities of good breeding and erudition. + Her excellences are the better because they are artAll appearance of life. + The countess recollects her own loss of a husband and less. observes how heavily had passes through her mind |