Cel. We'll lead you thither:I pray you, will you take him by the arm? Oli. Be of good cheer, youth:-You a man?You lack a man's heart. Ros. I do so, I confess it. Ah, sir, a body would think this was well counterfeited: I pray you, tell your brother how well I counterfeited. --Heigh ho! Oli. This was not counterfeit; there is too great testimony in your complexion, that it was a passion of earnest. Ros. Counterfeit, I assure you. Oli. Well then, take a good heart, and counterfeit to be a man. Ros. So I do; but, i' faith I should have been a woman by right. Cel. Come, you look paler and paler; pray you, draw homewards: Good sir, go with us. Oli. That will I, for I must bear answer back, How you excuse my brother, Rosalind. Ros. I shall devise something: But, I pray you, commend my counterfeiting to him:-Will you go? [Exeunt. Act Fifth. SCENE I.-THE SAME. Enter Touchstone and Audrey. Touch. We shall find a time, Audrey; patience, gentle Audrey. Aud. 'Faith, the priest was good enough, for all the old gentleman's saying. Touch. A most wicked Sir Oliver, Audrey, a most vile Mar-text. But Audrey, there is a youth here in the forest lays claim to you. Aud. Ay, I know who 'tis; he hath no interest in me in the world: here comes the man you mean. Enter William. Tou. 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. 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 Will. Which he, sir? Touch. He, sir, that must marry this woman: Therefore, you clown, abandon,-which is in the vulgar, leave,--the society,-whicn 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. Will. Rest you merry, sir. Enter Corin. [Exit. 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 perséver to marry her? the poverty of her, the small acquaintance, my Oli. Neither call the giddiness of it in question, 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 old Sir Rowland's, will I estate you, and here father's house, and all the revenue that was live and die a shepherd, my 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, brother. Oli. And you, fair sister. Ros. O, my dear Orlando, how it grieves me to see thee wear thy heart in a scarf. Orl. It is my arm. Ros. I thought, thy heart had been wounded with the claws of a lion. 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, 'tla II. This carol they began that hour, Of many desperate1 studies by his uncle, With a hey, and a ho, and a hey nonino, Obscured 2 in the circle of this forest. How that a life was but a flower In spring time, &c. SCENE IV.-ANOTHER PART OF THE FOREST. Duke S. Dost thou believe, Orlando, that the As those that fear they hope, and know they fear. Enter Rosalind, Silvius, and Phebe. [To the Duke.] You say, if I bring in your Rosa- 9. That would I, were I of all kingdoms king. Phe. That will I, should I die the hour after. Enter Touchstone and Audrey. Jaq. 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. 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 politick with my friend, smooth with mine 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. Sir; I desire you of the like. I press in here, sir, amongst the rest of the country folks, 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 you? pearl, in your foul oyster. Duke S. By my faith, he is very swift and sententious. Touch. According to the fool's bolt, sir. Jaq. But, for the seventh cause; how did you find the quarrel on the seventh cause? 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 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 call'd the Reply churlish. If again, it was not well cut, he would answer, I spake not true: This is call'd the Reproof valiant. If again, it was not well cut, he would say, I lie: This is You yours, Orlando, to receive his daughter;-call'd the Countercheck quarrelsome: and so to Keep your word, Phebe, that you'll marry me; the Lie circumstantial, and the Lie direct. 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. Sil. Though to have her and death were both one thing. [even. Ros. I have promis'd to make all this matter Keep you your word, O duke, to give your 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; 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: 1 Fearful, 2 Concealed. 8 A stately dance. 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 peace-maker; much virtue in If. Jaq. Is not this a rare fellow, my lord? he's as good as any thing, and yet a fool. Duke S. He uses his folly like a stalking-horse, and under the presentation of that he shoots his wit. Enter Hymen, leading Rosalind in woman's clothes; and Celia. Still Musick. HYM.Then is there mirth in heaven, Good duke, receive thy daughter, That thou mightst join her hand with his, Ros. [To Duke S.] To you I give myself, for I am yours. [yours. [To Orlando.] To you I give myself, for I am Duke S. If there be truth in sight, you are my daughter. Orl. If there be truth in sight, you are my Phe. If sight and shape be true, [Rosalind. Why then,-my love, adieu! Ros. [To Duke S.] I'll have no father, if you be not he: [To Orlando.] I'll have no husband, if you be not he: [To Phebe.] Nor ne'er wed woman, if you be not she. Hym. Peace, ho! I bar confusion: "Tis I must make conclusion Of these most strange events: If truth holds true contents.1 [To Orlando and Rosalind, You and you are heart in heart: [To Oliver and Celia. [To Touchstone and Audrey. As the winter to foul weather. SONG. Wedding is great Juno's crown: O blessed bond of board and bed! 'Tis Hymen peoples every town; High wedlock then be honoured: 1 Acquiescence. 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. [To Silvius. ] I will not eat my word, now thou art mine; Thy faith my fancy to thee doth combine. Jaq. de B. Let me have audience for a word, or two; I am the second son of old Sir Rowland, Duke S. 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, [us, That have endur'd shrewd days and nights with 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 rustick revelry:Play, musick; and you brides and bridegroom With measure heap'd in joy, to the measures fail. [all, Jaq. Sir, by your patience; if I heard you The duke hath put on a religious life, [rightly, And thrown into neglect the pompous court? Jaq. de B. He hath. Jaq. To him will I: out of these converties3 There is much matter to be heard and learned.[To Duke S.] You to your former honour I bequeath; Your patience, and your virtue, well deserves it:[doth merit:-You [To Orlando. ] to a love, that your true faith You [To Oliver.] to your land, and love, and great allies: You [To Sil.] to a long and well deserved bed;And you [To Touchstone.] to wrangling, for thy loving voyage [pleasures: Is but for two months victual'd:-So to your I am for other than for dancing measures. Duke S. Stay, Jaques, stay. 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. [A dance. 8 Converts. EPILOGUE 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 furnished1 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 pleases 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, and complexions that liked1 me: and, I am sure, as many as have good beards, or good faces, will, for my kind offer, when I make curts'y, bid me farewell. [Exeunt Steward, ·Servants to the Countess of Rousillon. Lords, attending on the King; Officers, Soldiers, Clown, A Page. &c., French and Florentine. SCENE.-Partly in France, and partly in Tuscany. Act First. SCENE I. ROUSILLON. A ROOM IN THE COUNTESS'S PALACE. Enter Bertram, the Countess of Rousillon, Helena, and Lafeu, in mourning. Countess. In delivering my son from me, I bury a second husband. 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. He hath abandoned his physicians, madam; under whose practices he hath persecuted time with hope; and finds no other advantage in the process but only the losing of hope by time. Count. This young gentlewoman had a father, 1 Dressed. (0, 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. [madam? Laf. How called you the man you speak of, C. 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.-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 make 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. Laf. Your commendations, madam, get from her tears. 1 That I liked. |