As You Like It from Mr. William Shakespeares comedies, histories, & tragedies. Published according to the true originall copies.
Mr. VVilliam Shakespeares comedies, histories, & tragedies
Bodleian First Folio, Arch. G c.7
Heminge, John, approximately 1556-1630 Condell, Henry, -1627Autres contributions
Available for reuse, according to the terms of the Creative Commons Attribution 3.0 Unported.
url urlSHAKESPEARES
COMEDIES,
HISTORIES, &
TRAGEDIES.
[18], 303, [1], 46, 49-100, [2], 69-232, [2], 79-80, [26], 76, 79-82, 80-98, [2], 109-156, 257-993 [i.e. 399], [1] p.; fol.
Numbering peculiarities: 1st count: p.50 misnumbered 58; p.59 misnumbered 51; p.86 misnumbered 88; p.153 misnumbered 151; p.161 misnumbered] 163; p.164 misnumbered 162; p. 165 misnumbered 163; p. 189 misnumbered 187; p. 249 misnumbered 251; p.250 misnumbered 252; p. 265 misnumbered 273 -- 2nd count: p.37 misnumbered 39 in some copies; p.89 misnumbered 91; p. 90 misnumbered 92 -- 3rd count: p.165-166 numbered 167 and 168 respectively; p. 216 numbered 218 -- 5th count: p. 279 misnumbered 259; p. 282 misnumbered 280; p.308 misnumbered 38; p. 379 misnumbered 389; p. 399 misnumbered 993.
The signatures varies between sources, with the most commonly cited being Hinman's and West's: 1. Hinman: πA⁶ (πA1+1) [πB²], ²A-2B⁶ 2C² a-g⁶ χgg⁸ h-v⁶ x⁴ χ1.2 [para.]-2[para.]⁶ 3[para]¹ aa-ff⁶ gg² Gg⁶ hh⁶ kk-bbb⁶; 2. West: πA⁶ (πA1+1, πA5+1.2)²A-2B⁶ 2C² a-g⁶ ²g⁸ h-v⁶ x⁴ 'gg3.4' (±'gg3') [para.]-2[para.]⁶ 3[para]¹ 2a-2f⁶ 2g² 2G⁶ 2h⁶ 2k-2v⁶ x⁶ 2y-3b⁶.
Mis-signed leaves: a3 mis-signed Aa3; ³gg1 mis-signed Gg; nn1-nn2 mis-signed Nn and Nn2 and oo1 mis-signed Oo.
"The life and death of King Iohn" begins new pagination on leaf a1 recto; "The tragedy of Coriolanus" begins new pagination on leaf aa1 recto.
Predominantly printed in double columns.
Text within simple lined frame.
Colophon reads: "Printed at the charges of W. Iaggard, Ed. Blount, I. Smithweeke, and W. Aspley. 1623.".
Editors’ dedication signed: Iohn Heminge. Henry Condell.
Two MS verses on first endpaper verso: 1. 9 lines of verse by an unknown author, first line reads "An active swain to make a leap was seen". 2. A copy of Ben Jonson’s printed "To the Reader"; MS note on t.p. (mutilated) appears to read "Honest [Shakes]peare". Minor annotations on leaf 2n4 (Macbeth). All in an early English hand, presumably added after leaving the Library.
Seventeenth-century (1624) English (Oxford) smooth calf. Bound for the Bodleian Library by William Wildgoose, with evidence of two cloth ties, red sprinkled edge. Formerly chained, with evidence of chain staple at the head of the upper cover. Remains of paper label at the head of the spine. Enclosed in 20th century book box by Maltby of Oxford. See S. Gibson in Original Bodleian Copy of First Folio, p. 12-13. One of four items sent out on 17th February 1624 for binding by Wildgoose containing printed waste from a copy of Cicero’s "De Officiis, et al." [Deventer: Richard Pafraet, between 1480 and 1485] as paste-downs. For more information on this work see: Bod. Inc. Cat., C-322.
For further details on the printing of this item see Hinman, Charleton. The printing and proof-reading of the First Folio of Shakespeare: Oxford, 1963.
Acquired by the Bodleian in 1623, presumably in sheets. It was sent out to William Wildgoose on for binding (see: Library Records e.258, fol. 48r) and upon its return chained in Duke Humfrey at shelfmark S 2.17 Art. It is listed in the Bodleian’s catalogue of printed books but was gone by the publication of the next catalogue in , replaced by the newer Third Folio (). There is no explicit reference in Library Records to the disposal of this copy, but there is a record of a sale of "superfluous library books" to Richard Davis, a bookseller in Oxford, in for the sum of £24.
After leaving the Bodleian this copy entered the collection of Richard Turbutt of Ogston Hall, Derbyshire at some point in the early 18th century. It stayed in the family’s possession until , when it was reacquired by the Bodleian for the sum of £3000, raised by public subscription. For a full discussion of the rediscovery and purchase of this copy see: F. Madan, G. M. R. Turbutt and S. Gibson, The Original Bodleian Copy of the First Folio of Shakespeare (theTurbutt Shakespeare) (Oxford, 1905)
For a full discussion of this copy and the digital version see http://shakespeare.bodleian.ox.ac.uk/ and West and Rasmussen (2011), 31.
![[p. 185]](FFimg:axc0205-0.jpg){kind=link}
As You Like It.
Actus primus. Scœna Prima.
[Act 1, Scene 1]
Orlando.
1AS I remember Adam, it was vpon this fashion [l. 2] bequeathed me by will, but poore a thousand [l. 3] Crownes, and as thou saist, charged my bro [l. 4] ther on his blessing to breed mee well: and [l. 5] there begins my sadnesse: My brother Iaques he keepes [l. 6] at schoole, and report speakes goldenly of his profit: [l. 7] for my part, he keepes me rustically at home, or (to speak [l. 8] more properly) staies me heere at home vnkept: for call [l. 9] you that keeping for a gentleman of my birth, that dif [l. 10] fers not from the stalling of an Oxe? his horses are bred [l. 11] better, for besides that they are faire with their feeding, [l. 12] they are taught their mannage, and to that end Riders [l. 13] deerely hir'd: but I (his brother) gaine nothing vnder [l. 14] him but growth, for the which his Animals on his [l. 15] dunghils are as much bound to him as I: besides this no [l. 16] thing that he so plentifully giues me, the something that [l. 17] nature gaue mee, his countenance seemes to take from [l. 18] me: hee lets mee feede with his Hindes, barres mee the [l. 19] place of a brother, and as much as in him lies, mines my [l. 20] gentility with my education. This is it Adam that [l. 21] grieues me, and the spirit of my Father, which I thinke [l. 22] is within mee, begins to mutinie against this seruitude. [l. 23] I will no longer endure it, though yet I know no wise [l. 24] remedy how to auoid it.
Adam.
25Yonder comes my Master, your brother.
Orlan.
26Goe a‑part Adam, and thou shalt heare how [l. 27] he will shake me vp.
Oli.
28Now Sir, what make you heere?
Orl.
29Nothing: I am not taught to make any thing.
Oli.
30What mar you then sir?
Orl.
31Marry sir, I am helping you to mar that which [l. 32] God made, a poore vnworthy brother of yours with [l. 33] idlenesse.
Oliuer.
34Marry sir be better employed, and be naught [l. 35] a while.
Orlan.
36Shall I keepe your hogs, and eat huskes with [l. 37] them? What prodigall portion haue I spent, that I should [l. 38] come to such penury?
Oli.
39Know you where you are sir?
Orl.
40O sir, very well: heere in your Orchard.
Oli.
41Know you before whom sir?
Orl.
42I, better then him I am before knowes mee: I [l. 43] know you are my eldest brother, and in the gentle con [l. 44] dition of bloud you should so know me: the courtesie of [l. 45] nations allowes you my better, in that you are the first [l. 46] borne, but the same tradition takes not away my bloud, [l. 47] were there twenty brothers betwixt vs: I haue as much [l. 48] of my father in mee, as you, albeit I confesse your com [l. 49] ming before me is neerer to his reuerence.
Oli.
50What Boy.
Orl.
51Come, come elder brother, you are too yong in [l. 52] (this.
Oli.
53Wilt thou lay hands on me villaine?
Orl.
54I am no villaine: I am the yongest sonne of Sir [l. 55] Rowland de Boys, he was my father, and he is thrice a vil [l. 56] laine that saies such a father begot villaines: wert thou [l. 57] not my brother, I would not take this hand from thy [l. 58] throat, till this other had puld out thy tongue for saying [l. 59] so, thou hast raild on thy selfe.
Adam.
60Sweet Masters bee patient, for your Fathers [l. 61] remembrance, be at accord.
Oli.
62Let me goe I say.
Orl.
63I will not till I please: you shall heare mee: my [l. 64] father charg'd you in his will to giue me good educati [l. 65] on: you haue train'd me like a pezant, obscuring and [l. 66] hiding from me all gentleman‑like qualities: the spirit [l. 67] of my father growes strong in mee, and I will no longer [l. 68] endure it: therefore allow me such exercises as may be [l. 69] come a gentleman, or giue mee the poore allottery my [l. 70] father left me by testament, with that I will goe buy my [l. 71] fortunes.
Oli.
72And what wilt thou do? beg when that is spent? [l. 73] Well sir, get you in. I will not long be troubled with [l. 74] you: you shall haue some part of your will, I pray you [l. 75] leaue me.
Orl.
76I will no further offend you, then becomes mee [l. 77] for my good.
Oli.
78Get you with him, you olde dogge.
Adam.
79Is old dogge my reward: most true, I haue [l. 80] lost my teeth in your seruice: God be with my olde ma [l. 81] ster, he would not haue spoke such a word.
Oli.
82Is it euen so, begin you to grow vpon me? I will [l. 83] physicke your ranckenesse, and yet giue no thousand [l. 84] crownes neyther: holla Dennis.
Den.
85Calls your worship?
Oli.
86Was not Charles the Dukes Wrastler heere to [l. 87] speake with me?
Den.
88So please you, he is heere at the doore, and im [l. 89] portunes accesse to you.
Oli.
90Call him in: 'twill be a good way: and to mor [l. 91] row the wrastling is.
Cha.
92Good morrow to your worship.
Oli.
93Good Mounsier Charles: what's the new newes [l. 94] at the new Court?
Charles.
95There's no newes at the Court Sir, but the [l. 96] olde newes: that is, the old Duke is banished by his yon [l. 97] ger brother the new Duke, and three or foure louing Q3 Lords [p. 186] As you like it. [l. 98] Lords haue put themselues into voluntary exile with [l. 99] him, whose lands and reuenues enrich the new Duke, [l. 100] therefore he giues them good leaue to wander.
![[p. 186]](FFimg:axc0206-0.jpg){kind=link}
Oli.
101Can you tell if Rosalind the Dukes daughter bee [l. 102] banished with her Father?
Cha.
103O no; for the Dukes daughter her Cosen so [l. 104] loues her, being euer from their Cradles bred together, [l. 105] that hee would haue followed her exile, or haue died to [l. 106] stay behind her; she is at the Court, and no lesse beloued [l. 107] of her Vncle, then his owne daughter, and neuer two La [l. 108] dies loued as they doe.
Oli.
109Where will the old Duke liue?
Cha.
110They say hee is already in the Forrest of Arden, [l. 111] and a many merry men with him; and there they liue [l. 112] like the old Robin Hood of England: they say many yong [l. 113] Gentlemen flocke to him euery day, and fleet the time [l. 114] carelesly as they did in the golden world.
Oli.
115What, you wrastle to morrow before the new [l. 116] Duke.
Cha.
117Marry doe I sir: and I came to acquaint you [l. 118] with a matter: I am giuen sir secretly to vnderstand, that [l. 119] your yonger brother Orlando hath a disposition to come [l. 120] in disguis'd against mee to try a fall: to morrow sir I [l. 121] wrastle for my credit, and hee that escapes me without [l. 122] some broken limbe, shall acquit him well: your brother [l. 123] is but young and tender, and for your loue I would bee [l. 124] loth to foyle him, as I must for my owne honour if hee [l. 125] come in: therefore out of my loue to you, I came hither [l. 126] to acquaint you withall, that either you might stay him [l. 127] from his intendment, or brooke such disgrace well as he [l. 128] shall runne into, in that it is a thing of his owne search, [l. 129] and altogether against my will.
Oli.
130Charles, I thanke thee for thy loue to me, which [l. 131] thou shalt finde I will most kindly requite: I had my [l. 132] selfe notice of my Brothers purpose heerein, and haue by [l. 133] vnder‑hand meanes laboured to disswade him from it; [l. 134] but he is resolute. Ile tell thee Charles, it is the stubbor [l. 135] nest yong fellow of France, full of ambition, an enuious [l. 136] emulator of euery mans good parts, a secret & villanous [l. 137] contriuer against mee his naturall brother: therefore vse [l. 138] thy discretion, I had as liefe thou didst breake his necke [l. 139] as his finger. And thou wert best looke to't; for if thou [l. 140] dost him any slight disgrace, or if hee doe not mightilie [l. 141] grace himselfe on thee, hee will practise against thee by [l. 142] poyson, entrap thee by some treacherous deuise, and ne [l. 143] uer leaue thee till he h[.]th tane thy life by some indirect [l. 144] meanes or other: for I assure thee, (and almost with [l. 145] teares I speake it) there is not one so young, and so vil [l. 146] lanous this day liuing. I speake but brotherly of him, [l. 147] but should I anathomize him to thee, as hee is, I must [l. 148] blush, and weepe, and thou must looke pale and [l. 149] wonder.
Cha.
150I am heartily glad I came hither to you: if hee [l. 151] come to morrow, Ile giue him his payment: if euer hee [l. 152] goe alone againe, Ile neuer wrastle for prize more: and [l. 153] so God keepe your worship.
154Farewell good Charles. Now will I stirre this Game [l. 155] ster: I hope I shall see an end of him; for my soule (yet [l. 156] I know not why) hates nothing more then he: yet hee's [l. 157] gentle, neuer school'd, and yet learned, full of noble [l. 158] deuise, of all sorts enchantingly beloued, and indeed [l. 159] so much in the heart of the world, and especially of my [l. 160] owne people, who best know him, that I am altogether [l. 161] misprised: but it shall not be so long, this wrastler shall [l. 162] cleare all: nothing remaines, but that I kindle the boy [l. 163] thither, which now Ile goe about.
Scœna Secunda.
[Act 1, Scene 2]
Cel.
164I pray thee Rosalind, sweet my Coz, be merry.
Ros.
165Deere Cellia; I show more mirth then I am mi [l. 166] stresse of, and would you yet were merrier: vnlesse you [l. 167] could teach me to forget a banished father, you must not [l. 168] learne mee how to remember any extraordinary plea [l. 169] sure.
Cel.
170Heerein I see thou lou'st mee not with the full [l. 171] waight that I loue thee; if my Vncle thy banished father [l. 172] had banished thy Vncle the Duke my Father, so thou [l. 173] hadst beene still with mee, I could haue taught my loue [l. 174] to take thy father for mine; so wouldst thou, if the truth [l. 175] of thy loue to me were so righteously temper'd, as mine [l. 176] is to thee.
Ros.
177Well, I will forget the condition of my estate, [l. 178] to reioyce in yours.
Cel.
179You know my Father hath no childe, but I, nor [l. 180] none is like [.]o haue; and truely when he dies, thou shalt [l. 181] be his heire; for what hee hath taken away from thy fa [l. 182] ther perforce, I will render thee againe in affection: by [l. 183] mine honor I will, and when I breake that oath, let mee [l. 184] turne monster: therefore my sweet Rose, my deare Rose, [l. 185] be merry.
Ros.
186From henceforth I will Coz, and deuise sports: [l. 187] let me see, what thinke you of falling in Loue?
Cel.
188Marry I prethee doe, to make sport withall: but [l. 189] loue no man in good earnest, nor no further in sport ney [l. 190] ther, then with safety of a pure blush, thou maist in ho [l. 191] nor come off againe.
Ros.
192What shall be our sport then?
Cel.
193Let vs sit and mocke the good houswife For [l. 194] tune from her wheele, that her gifts may henceforth bee [l. 195] bestowed equally.
Ros.
196I would wee could doe so: for her benefits are [l. 197] mightily misplaced, and the bountifull blinde woman [l. 198] doth most mistake in her gifts to women.
Cel.
199Tis true, for those that she makes faire, she scarce [l. 200] makes honest, & those that she makes honest, she makes [l. 201] very illfauouredly.
Ros.
202Nay now thou goest from Fortunes office to Na [l. 203] tures: Fortune reignes in gifts of the world, not in the [l. 204] lineaments of Nature.
Cel.
205No; when Nature hath made a faire creature, [l. 206] may she not by Fortune fall into the fire? though nature [l. 207] hath giuen vs wit to flout at Fortune, hath not Fortune [l. 208] sent in this foole to cut off the argument?
Ros.
209Indeed there is fortune too hard for nature, when [l. 210] fortune makes natures naturall, the cutter off of natures [l. 211] witte.
Cel.
212Peraduenture this is not Fortunes work neither, [l. 213] but Natures, who perceiueth our naturall wits too dull [l. 214] to reason of such goddesses, hath sent this Naturall for [l. 215] our whetstone. for alwaies the dulnesse of the foole, is [l. 216] the whetstone of the wits. How now Witte, whether [l. 217] wander you?
Clow.
218Mistresse, you must come away to your father.
Cel.
219Were you made the messenger?
Clo.
220No by mine honor, but I was bid to come for you
![[p. 187]](FFimg:axc0207-0.jpg){kind=link}
Ros.
221Where learned you that oath foole?
Clo.
222Of a certaine Knight, that swore by his Honour [l. 223] they were good Pan‑cakes, and swore by his Honor the [l. 224] Mustard was naught: Now Ile stand to it, the Pancakes [l. 225] were naught, and the Mustard was good, and yet was [l. 226] not the Knight forsworne.
Cel.
227How proue you that in the great heape of your [l. 228] knowledge?
Ros.
229I marry, now vnmuzzle your wisedome.
Clo.
230Stand you both forth now: stroke your chinnes, [l. 231] and sweare by your beards that I am a knaue.
Cel.
232By our beards (if we had them) thou art.
Clo.
233By my knauerie (if I had it) then I were: but if [l. 234] you sweare by that that is not, you are not forsworn: no [l. 235] more was this knight swearing by his Honor, for he ne [l. 236] uer had anie; or if he had, he had sworne it away, before [l. 237] euer he saw those Pancakes, or that Mustard.
Cel.
238Prethee, who is't that thou means't?
Clo.
239One that old Fredericke your Father loues.
Ros.
240My Fathers loue is enough to honor him enough; [l. 241] speake no more of him, you'l be whipt for taxation one [l. 242] of these daies.
Clo.
243The more pittie that fooles may not speak wise [l. 244] ly, what Wisemen do foolishly.
Cel.
245By my troth thou saiest true: For, since the little [l. 246] wit that fooles haue was silenced, the little foolerie that [l. 247] wise men haue makes a great shew; Heere comes Mon [l. 248] sieur the Beu.
Ros.
249With his mouth full of newes.
Cel.
250Which he vvill put on vs, as Pigeons feed their [l. 251] young.
Ros.
252Then shal we be newes‑cram'd.
Cel.
253All the better: we shalbe the more Marketable. [l. 254] Boon‑iour Monsieur le Beu, what's the newes?
Le Beu.
255Faire Princesse, [l. 256] you haue lost much good sport.
Cel.
257Sport: of what colour?
Le Beu.
258What colour Madame? How shall I aun [l. 259] swer you?
Ros.
260As wit and fortune will.
Clo.
261Or as the destinies decrees.
Cel.
262Well said, that was laid on with a trowell.
Clo.
263Nay, if I keepe not my ranke.
Ros.
264Thou loosest thy old smell.
Le Beu.
265You amaze me Ladies: I would haue told [l. 266] you of good wrastling, which you haue lost the sight of.
Ros.
267Yet tell vs the manner of the Wrastling.
Le Beu.
268I wil tell you the beginning: and if it please [l. 269] your Ladiships, you may see the end, for the best is yet [l. 270] to doe, and heere where you are, they are comming to [l. 271] performe it.
Cel.
272Well, the beginning that is dead and buried.
Le Beu.
273There comes an old man, and his three sons.
Cel.
274I could match this beginning with an old tale.
Le Beu.
275Three proper yong men, of excellent growth [l. 276] and presence.
Ros.
277With bils on their neckes: Be it knowne vnto [l. 278] all men by these presents.
Le Beu.
279The eldest of the three, wrastled with Charles [l. 280] the Dukes Wrastler, which Charles in a moment threw [l. 281] him, and broke three of his ribbes, that there is little [l. 282] hope of life in him: So he seru'd the second, and so the [l. 283] third: yonder they lie, the poore old man their Father, [l. 284] making such pittiful dole ouer them, that all the behold [l. 285] ders take his part with weeping.
Ros.
286Alas.
Clo.
287But what is the sport Monsieur, that the Ladies [l. 288] haue lost?
Le Beu.
289Why this that I speake of.
Clo.
290Thus men may grow wiser euery day. It is the [l. 291] first time that euer I heard breaking of ribbes was sport [l. 292] for Ladies.
Cel.
293Or I, I promise thee.
Ros.
294But is there any else longs to see this broken [l. 295] Musicke in his sides? Is there yet another doates vpon [l. 296] rib‑breaking? Shall we see this wrastling Cosin?
Le Beu.
297You must if you stay heere, for heere is the [l. 298] place appointed for the wrastling, and they are ready to [l. 299] performe it.
Cel.
300Yonder sure they are comming. Let vs now stay [l. 301] and see it.
and Attendants.
Duke.
302Come on, since the youth will not be intreated [l. 303] His owne perill on his forwardnesse.
Ros.
304Is yonder the man?
Le Beu.
305Euen he, Madam.
Cel.
306Alas, he is too yong: yet he looks successefully
Du.
307How now daughter, and Cousin:
308Are you crept hither to see the wrastling?
Ros.
309I my Liege, so please you giue vs leaue.
Du.
310You wil take little delight in it, I can tell you [l. 311] there is such oddes in the man: In pitie of the challen [l. 312] gers youth, I would faine disswade him, but he will not [l. 313] bee entreated. Speake to him Ladies, see if you can [l. 314] mooue him.
Cel.
315Call him hether good Monsieuer Le Beu.
Duke.
316Do so: Ile not be by.
Le Beu.
317Monsieur the Challenger, the Princesse cals [l. 318] for you.
Orl.
319I attend them with all respect and dutie.
Ros.
320Young man, haue you challeng'd Charles the [l. 321] Wrastler?
Orl.
322No faire Princesse: he is the generall challenger, [l. 323] I come but in as others do, to try with him the strength [l. 324] of my youth.
Cel.
325Yong Gentleman, your spirits are too bold for [l. 326] your yeares: you haue seene cruell proofe of this mans [l. 327] strength, if you saw your selfe with your eies, or knew [l. 328] your selfe with your iudgment, the feare of your aduen [l. 329] ture would counsel you to a more equall enterprise. We [l. 330] pray you for your owne sake to embrace your own safe [l. 331] tie, and giue ouer this attempt.
Ros.
332Do yong Sir, your reputation shall not therefore [l. 333] be misprised: we wil make it our suite to the Duke, that [l. 334] the wrastling might not go forward.
Orl.
335I beseech you, punish mee not with your harde [l. 336] thoughts, wherein I confesse me much guiltie to denie [l. 337] so faire and excellent Ladies anie thing. But let your [l. 338] faire eies, and gentle wishes go with mee to my triall; [l. 339] wherein if I bee foil'd, there is but one sham'd that vvas [l. 340] neuer gracious: if kil'd, but one dead that is willing to [l. 341] be so: I shall do my friends no wrong, for I haue none to [l. 342] lament me: the world no iniurie, for in it I haue nothing: [l. 343] onely in the world I fil vp a place, which may bee better [l. 344] supplied, when I haue made it emptie.
Ros.
345The little strength that I haue, I would it vvere [l. 346] with you.
![[p. 188]](FFimg:axc0208-0.jpg){kind=link}
Cel.
347And mine to eeke out hers.
Ros.
348Fare you well: praie heauen I be deceiu'd in you.
Cel.
349Your hearts desires be with you.
Char.
350Come, where is this yong gallant, that is so [l. 351] desirous to lie with his mother earth?
Orl.
352Readie Sir, but his will hath in it a more modest [l. 353] working.
Duk.
354You shall trie but one fall.
Cha.
355No, I warrant your Grace you shall not entreat [l. 356] him to a second, that haue so mightilie perswaded him [l. 357] from a first.
Orl.
358You meane to mocke me after: you should not [l. 359] haue mockt me before: but come your waies.
Ros.
360Now Hercules, be thy speede yong man.
Cel.
361I would I were inuisible, to catch the strong fel [l. 362] low by the legge.
Ros.
363Oh excellent yong man.
Cel.
364If I had a thunderbolt in mine eie, I can tell who [l. 365] should downe.
Duk.
366No more, no more.
Orl.
367Yes I beseech your Grace, I am not yet well [l. 368] breath'd.
Duk.
Le Beu.
Duk.
Orl.
373Orlando my Liege, the yongest sonne of Sir Ro [l. 374] land de Boys.
Duk.
Cel.
Orl.
Ros.
Cel.
Ros.
Cel.
Orl.
Ros.
Cel.
Ros.
Orl.
Le Beu.
Orl.
Le Beu.
Orl.
Scena Tertius.
[Act 1, Scene 3]
Cel.
445Why Cosen, why Rosaline: Cupid haue mercie, [l. 446] Not a word?
Ros.
447Not one to throw at a dog.
Cel.
448No, thy words are too precious to be cast away [l. 449] vpon curs, throw some of them at me; come lame mee [l. 450] with reasons.
Ros.
451Then there were two Cosens laid vp, when the [l. 452] one should be lam'd with reasons, and the other mad [l. 453] without any.
Cel.
454But is all this for your Father?
Ros.
455No, some of it is for my childes Father: Oh [l. 456] how full of briers is this working day world.
Cel.
457They are but burs, Cosen, throwne vpon thee [l. 458] in holiday foolerie, if we walke not in the trodden paths [l. 459] our very petty‑coates will catch them.
Ros.
460I could shake them off my coate, these burs are [l. 461] in my heart.
Cel.
462Hem them away.
Ros.
463I would try if I could cry hem, and haue him.
Cel.
464Come, come, wrastle with thy affections.
Ros.
465O they the part of a better wrastler then [l. 466] my selfe.
Cel.
467O, a god wish vpon you: you will trie in time in [p. 187] As you like it. [l. 468] in dispight of a fall: but turning these iests out of seruice, [l. 469] let vs talke in good earnest: Is it possible on such a so [l. 470] daine, you should fall into so strong a liking with old Sir [l. 471] Roulands yongest sonne?
![[p. 187]](FFimg:axc0209-0.jpg){kind=link}
Ros.
472The Duke my Father lou'd his Father deerelie.
Cel.
473Doth it therefore ensue that you should loue his [l. 474] Sonne deerelie? By this kinde of chase, I should hate [l. 475] him, for my father hated his father deerely; yet I hate [l. 476] not Orlando.
Ros.
477No faith, hate him not for my sake.
Cel.
478Why should I not? doth he not deserue well?
Ros.
Cel.
Duk.
Ros.
Duk.
Ros.
Duk.
Ros.
Duk.
Ros.
Cel.
Duk.
Cel.
Duk.
Cel.
Duk.
Cel.
Ros.
Cel.
Ros.
Cel.
Ros.
Cel.
Ros.
Cel.
Ros.
Cel.
Ros.
Cel.
Ros.
Cel.
Actus Secundus. Scœna P[....]
[Act 2, Scene 1]
like Forre[.]
Duk. Sen.
![[p. 190]](FFimg:axc0210-0.jpg){kind=link}
Amien.
Du. Sen.
1. Lord.
Du. Sen.
1. Lord.
Du. Sen.
1. Lor
Scena Secunda.
[Act 2, Scene 2]
Duk.
1. Lo.
2. Lor.
Duk.
Scena Tertia.
[Act 2, Scene 3]
Orl.
Ad.
Ad.
![[p. 191]](FFimg:axc0211-0.jpg){kind=link}
Ad.
Ad.
Orl.
Ad.
Orl.
Ad.
Scena Quarta.
[Act 2, Scene 4]
Clowne, alias Touchstone.
Ros.
757O Iupiter, how merry are my spirits?
Clo.
758I care not for my spirits, if my legges were not [l. 759] wearie.
Ros.
760I could finde in my heart to disgrace my mans [l. 761] apparell, and to cry like a woman: but I must comfort [l. 762] the weaker vessell, as doublet and hose ought to show it [l. 763] selfe coragious to petty‑coate; therefore courage, good [l. 764] Aliena.
Cel.
765I pray you beare with me, I cannot goe no fur [l. 766] ther.
Clo.
767For my part, I had rather beare with you, then [l. 768] beare you: yet I should beare no crosse if I did beare [l. 769] you, for I thinke you haue no money in your purse.
Ros.
770Well, this is the Forrest of Arden.
Clo.
771I, now am I in Arden, the more foole I, when I [l. 772] was at home I was in a better place, but Trauellers must [l. 773] be content.
Ros.
774I, be so good Touchstone: Look you, who comes [l. 775] here, a yong man and an old in solemne talke.
Cor.
Sil.
Cor.
Sil.
Cor.
Sil.
Ros.
798Alas poore Shepheard searching of they would, [l. 799] I haue by hard aduenture found mine owne.
Clo.
800And I mine: I remember when I was in loue, I [l. 801] broke my sword vpon a stone, and bid him take that for [l. 802] comming a night to Iane Smile, and I remember the kis [l. 803] sing of her batler, and the Cowes dugs that her prettie [l. 804] chopt hands had milk'd; and I remember the wooing [l. 805] of a peascod instead of her, from whom I tooke two [l. 806] cods, and giuing her them againe, said with weeping [l. 807] teares, weare these for my sake: wee that are true Lo [l. 808] uers, runne into strange capers; but as all is mortall in nature, so [l. 809] is all nature in loue, mortall in folly.
Ros.
810Thou speak'st wiser then thou art ware of.
Clo.
811Nay, I shall nere be ware of mine owne wit, till [l. 812] I breake my shins against it.
Ros.
Clo.
mee.
Cel.
Clo.
Ros.
Cor.
Clo.
Cor.
![[p. 192]](FFimg:axc0212-0.jpg){kind=link}
Ros.
Cor.
Ros.
Cor.
Ros.
Cor.
while,
Ros.
Cel.
Cor.
Scena Quinta.
[Act 2, Scene 5]
Iaq.
Amy.
Iaq.
Amy.
you.
Iaq.
Amy.
Iaq.
875Nay, I care not for their names, they owe mee [l. 876] nothing. Wil you sing?
A[...]
877More at your request, then to please my selfe. [l. 878] [.] ell then, if euer I thanke any man, Ile thanke [l. 879] you: but that they cal complement is like th'encounter [l. 880] of two dog‑Apes. And when a man thankes me hartily, [l. 881] me thinkes I haue giuen him a penie, and he renders me [l. 882] the beggerly thankes. Come sing; and you that wil not [l. 883] hold your tongues.
Amy.
884Wel, Ile end the song. Sirs, couer the while, [l. 885] the Duke wil drinke vnder this tree; he hath bin all this [l. 886] day to looke you.
Iaq.
Iaq.
Amy.
Amy.
Amy.
Iaq.
909'Tis a Greeke inuocation, to call fools into a cir [l. 910] cle. Ile go sleepe if I can: if I cannot, Ile raile against all [l. 911] the first borne of Egypt.
Amy.
Scena Sexta.
[Act 2, Scene 6]
Adam.
Orl.
![[p. 7]](FFimg:axc0213-0.jpg){kind=link}
Du. Sen.
1. Lord.
Du. Sen.
1. Lord.
Du. Sen.
Iaq.
Du. Sen.
Iaq.
Du. Sen.
Iaq.
Du. Sen.
Iaq.
Du. Sen.
Iaq.
Orl.
Iaq.
Orl.
Iaq.
Du. Sen.
Orl.
Iaq.
Du. Sen.
Orl.
Du. Sen.
Orl.
![[p. 194]](FFimg:axc0214-0.jpg){kind=link}
Du. Sen.
Orl.
Duke Sen.
Orl.
Du. Sen.
Ia.
Du Sen.
1105Welcome: set downe your venerable bur [l. 1106] then, and let him feede.
Orl.
Ad.
Du. Sen.
Duke Sen.
Actus Tertius. Scena Prima.
[Act 3, Scene 1]
Du.
Ol.
Duke.
Scena Secunda
[Act 3, Scene 2]
Orl.
Co.
1164And how like you this shepherds life Mr Touchstone?
![[p. 195]](FFimg:axc0215-0.jpg){kind=link}
Clow.
1165Truely Shepheard, in respect of it selfe, it is a [l. 1166] good life; but in respect that it is a shepheards life, it is [l. 1167] naught. In respect that it is solitary, I like it verie well: [l. 1168] but in respect that it is priuate, it is a very vild life. Now [l. 1169] in respect it is in the fields, it pleaseth mee well: but in [l. 1170] respect it is not in the Court, it is tedious. As it is a spare [l. 1171] life (looke you) it fits my humor well: but as there is no [l. 1172] more plentie in it, it goes much against my stomacke. [l. 1173] Has't any Philosophie in thee shepheard?
Cor.
1174No more, but that I know the more one sickens, [l. 1175] the worse at ease he is: and that hee that wants money, [l. 1176] meanes, and content, is without three good frends. That [l. 1177] the propertie of raine is to wet, and fire to burne: That [l. 1178] pood pasture makes fat sheepe: and that a great cause of [l. 1179] the night, is lacke of the Sunne: That hee that hath lear [l. 1180] no wit by Nature, nor Art, may complaine of good [l. 1181] breeding, or comes of a very dull kindred.
Clo.
Cor.
1184No truly.
Clo.
1185Then thou art damn'd.
Cor.
1186Nay, I hope.
Clo.
1187Truly thou art damn'd, like an ill roasted Egge, [l. 1188] all on one side.
Cor.
1189For not being at Court? your reason.
Clo.
1190Why, if thou neuer was't at Court, thou neuer [l. 1191] saw'st good manners: if thou neuer saw'st good maners, [l. 1192] then thy manners must be wicked, and wickednes is sin, [l. 1193] and sinne is damnation: Thou art in a parlous state shep [l. 1194] heard.
Cor.
1195Not a whit Touchstone, those that are good ma [l. 1196] at the Court, are as ridiculous in the Countrey, as [l. 1197] the behauiour of the Countrie is most mockeable at the [l. 1198] Court. You told me, you salute not at the Court, but [l. 1199] you kisse your hands; that courtesie would be vncleanlie [l. 1200] if Courtiers were shepheards.
Clo.
1201Instance, briefly: come, instance.
Cor.
1202Why we are still handling our Ewes, and their [l. 1203] Fels you know are greasie.
Clo.
1204Why do not your Courtiers hands sweate? And [l. 1205] is not the grease of a Mutton, as wholesome as the sweat [l. 1206] of a man? Shallow, shallow: A better instance I say: [l. 1207] Come.
Cor.
1208Besides, our hands are hard.
Clo.
gen: a more sounder instance, come.
Cor.
1210And they are often tarr'd ouer, with the surgery [l. 1211] of our sheepe: and would you haue vs kisse Tarre? The [l. 1212] Courtiers hands are perfum'd with Ciuet.
Clo.
1213Most shallow man: Thou wormes meate in re [l. 1214] spect of a good peece of flesh indeed: learne of the wise [l. 1215] and perpend: Ciuet is of a baser birth then Tarre, the [l. 1216] verie vncleanly fluxe of a Cat. Mend the instance Shep [l. 1217] heard.
Cor.
1218You haue too Courtly a wit, for me, Ile rest.
Clo.
1219Wilt thou rest damn'd? God helpe thee shallow [l. 1220] man: God make incision in thee, thou art raw.
Cor.
1221Sir, I am a true Labourer, I earne that I eate: get [l. 1222] that I weare; owe no man hate, enuie no mans happi [l. 1223] nesse: glad of other mens good content with my harme: [l. 1224] and the greatest of my pride, is to see my Ewes graze, & [l. 1225] my Lambes sucke.
Clo.
1226That is another simple sinne in you, to bring the [l. 1227] Ewes and the Rammes together, and to offer to get your [l. 1228] liuing, by the copulation of Cattle, to be bawd to a Bel [l. 1229] weather, and to betray a shee‑Lambe of a tweluemonth [l. 1230] to a crooked‑pated olde Cuckoldly Ramme, out of all [l. 1231] reasonable match. If thou bee'st not damn'd for this, the [l. 1232] diuell himselfe will haue no shepherds, I cannot see else [l. 1233] how thou shouldst scape.
Cor.
1234Heere comes yong Mr Ganimed, my new Mistris [l. 1235] ses Brother.
Ros.
Clo.
1244Ile rime you so, eight yeares together; dinners, [l. 1245] and suppers, and sleeping hours excepted: it is the right [l. 1246] Butter‑womens ranke to Market.
Ros.
1247Out Foole.
Clo.
1248For a taste.
1261This is the verie false gallop of Verses, why doe you in [l. 1262] fect your selfe with them?
Ros.
1263Peace you dull foole, I found them on a tree.
Clo.
1264Truely the tree yeelds bad fruite.
Ros.
1265Ile graffe it with you, and then I shall graffe it [l. 1266] with a Medler: then it will be the earliest fruit i'th coun [l. 1267] try: for you'l be rotten ere you bee halfe ripe, and that's [l. 1268] the right vertue of the Medler.
Clo.
1269You haue said: but whether wisely or no, let the [l. 1270] Forrest iudge.
Ros.
1271Peace, here comes my sister reading, stand aside.
Cel.
![[p. 196]](FFimg:axc0216-0.jpg){kind=link}
Ros.
1302O most gentle Iupiter, what tedious homilie of [l. 1303] Loue haue you wearied your parishioners withall, and [l. 1304] neuer cri'de, haue patience good people.
Cel.
1305How now backe friends: Shepheard, go off a lit [l. 1306] tle: go with him sirrah.
Clo.
1307Come Shepheard, let vs make an honorable re [l. 1308] treit, though not with bagge and baggage, yet with [l. 1309] scrip and scrippage.
Cel.
1310Didst thou heare these verses?
Ros.
1311O yes, I heard them all, and more too, for some [l. 1312] of them had in them more feete then the Verses would [l. 1313] beare.
Cel.
1314That's no matter: the feet might beare yͤ verses.
Ros.
1315I, but the feet were lame, and could not beare [l. 1316] themselues without the verse, and therefore stood lame [l. 1317] ly in the verse.
Cel.
1318But didst thou heare without wondering, how [l. 1319] thy name should be hang'd and carued vpon these trees?
Ros.
1320I was seuen of the nine daies out of the wonder, [l. 1321] before you came: for looke heere what I found on a [l. 1322] Palme tree; I was neuer so berim'd since Pythagoras time [l. 1323] that I was an Irish Rat, which I can hardly remember.
Cel.
1324Tro you, who hath done this?
Ros.
1325Is it a man?
Cel.
1326And a chaine that you once wore about his neck: [l. 1327] change you colour?
Ros.
1328I pre'thee who?
Cel.
1329O Lord, Lord, it is a hard matter for friends to [l. 1330] meete; but Mountaines may bee remoou'd with Earth [l. 1331] quakes, and so encounter.
Ros.
1332Nay, but who is it?
Cel.
1333Is it possible?
Ros.
1334Nay, I pre'thee now, with most petitionary ve [l. 1335] hemence, tell me who it is.
Cel.
1336O wonderfull, wonderfull, and most wonderfull [l. 1337] wonderfull, and yet againe wonderful, and after that out [l. 1338] of all hooping.
Ros.
1339Good my complection, dost thou think though [l. 1340] I am caparison'd like a man, I haue a doublet and hose in [l. 1341] my disposition? One inch of delay more, is a South‑sea [l. 1342] of discouerie. I pre'thee tell me, who is it quickely, and [l. 1343] speake apace: I would thou couldst stammer, that thou [l. 1344] might'st powre this conceal'd man out of thy mouth, as [l. 1345] Wine comes out of a narrow‑mouth'd bottle: either too [l. 1346] much at once, or none at all. I pre'thee take the Corke [l. 1347] out of thy mouth, that I may drinke thy tydings.
Cel.
1348So you may put a man in your belly.
Ros.
1349Is he of Gods making? What manner of man? [l. 1350] Is his head worth a hat? Or his chin worth a beard?
Cel.
1351Nay, he hath but a little beard.
Ros.
1352Why God will send more, if the man will bee [l. 1353] thankful: let me stay the growth of his beard, if thou [l. 1354] delay me not the knowledge of his chin.
Cel.
1355It is yong Orlando, that tript vp the Wrastlers [l. 1356] heeles, and your heart, both in an instant.
Ros.
1357Nay, but the diuell take mocking: speake sadde [l. 1358] brow, and true maid.
Cel.
Ros.
1360Orlando?
Cel.
1361Orlando.
Ros.
1362Alas the day, what shall I do with my doublet & [l. 1363] hose? What did he when thou saw'st him? What sayde [l. 1364] he? How look'd he? Wherein went he? What makes hee [l. 1365] heere? Did he aske for me? Where remaines he? How [l. 1366] parted he with thee? And when shalt thou see him a [l. 1367] gaine? Answer me in one vvord.
Cel.
1368You must borrow me Gargantuas mouth first: [l. 1369] 'tis a Word too great for any mouth of this Ages size, to [l. 1370] say I and no, to these particulars, is more then to answer [l. 1371] in a Catechisme.
Ros.
1372But doth he know that I am in this Forrest, and [l. 1373] in mans apparrell? Looks he as freshly, as he did the day [l. 1374] he Wrastled?
Cel.
1375It is as easie to count Atomies as to resolue the [l. 1376] propositions of a Louer: but take a taste of my finding [l. 1377] him, and rellish it with good obseruance. I found him [l. 1378] vnder a tree like a drop'd Acorne.
Ros.
1379It may vvel be cal'd Ioues tree, when it droppes [l. 1380] forth fruite.
Cel.
1381Giue me audience, good Madam.
Ros.
1382Proceed.
Cel.
1383There lay hee stretch'd along like a Wounded [l. 1384] knight.
Ros.
1385Though it be pittie to see such a sight, it vvell [l. 1386] becomes the ground.
Cel.
1387Cry holla, to the tongue, I prethee: it curuettes [l. 1388] vnseasonably. He was furnish'd like a Hunter.
Ros.
1389O ominous, he comes to kill my Hart.
Cel.
1390I would sing my song without a burthen, thou [l. 1391] bring'st me out of tune.
Ros.
1392Do you not know I am a woman, when I thinke, [l. 1393] I must speake: sweet, say on.
Cel.
1394You bring me out. Soft, comes he not heere?
Ros.
1395'Tis he, slinke by, and note him.
Iaq.
1396I thanke you for your company, but good faith [l. 1397] I had as liefe haue beene my selfe alone.
Orl.
Iaq.
Orl.
Iaq.
1402I pray you marre no more trees vvith Writing [l. 1403] Loue‑songs in their barkes.
Orl.
1404I pray you marre no moe of my verses with rea [l. 1405] ding them ill‑fauouredly.
Iaq.
1406Rosalinde is your loues name?
Orl.
1407Yes, Iust.
Iaq.
1408I do not like her name.
Orl.
1409There was no thought of pleasing you when she [l. 1410] was christen'd.
Iaq.
1411What stature is she of?
Orl.
1412Iust as high as my heart.
Iaq.
1413You are ful of prety answers: haue you not bin ac [l. 1414] quainted with goldsmiths wiues, & cond them out of rings
Orl.
1415Not so: but I answer you right painted cloath, [l. 1416] from whence you haue studied your questions.
Iaq.
1417You haue a nimble wit; I thinke 'twas made of [l. 1418] Attalanta's heeles. Will you sitte downe with me, and [l. 1419] wee two, will raile against our Mistris the world, and all [l. 1420] our miserie.
Orl.
1421I wil chide no breather in the world but my selfe
against
[p. 197]
As you like it.
[l. 1422] against whom I know mofl most faults.
![[p. 197]](FFimg:axc0217-0.jpg){kind=link}
Iaq.
1423The worst fault you haue, is to be in loue.
Orl.
1424'Tis a fault I will not change, for your best ver [l. 1425] tue: I am wearie of you.
Iaq.
1426By my troth, I was seeking for a Foole, when I [l. 1427] found you.
Orl.
1428He is drown'd in the brooke, looke but in, and [l. 1429] you shall see him.
Iaq.
1430There I shal see mine owne figure.
Orl.
1431Which I take to be either a foole, or a Cipher.
Iaq.
1432Ile tarrie no longer with you, farewell good sig [l. 1433] nior Loue.
Orl.
1434I am glad of your departure: Adieu good Mon [l. 1435] soeir Melancholly.
Ros.
1436I wil speake to him like a sawcie Lacky. and vn [l. 1437] der that habit play the knaue with him, do you hear For [l. 1438] (rester.
Orl.
1439Verie wel, what would you?
Ros.
1440I pray you, what i'st a clocke?
Orl.
1441You should aske me what time o'day: there's no [l. 1442] clocke in the Forrest.
Ros.
1443Then there is no true Louer in the Forrest, else [l. 1444] sighing euerie minute, and groaning euerie houre wold [l. 1445] detect the lazie foot of time, as wel as a clocke.
Orl.
1446And why not the swift foote of time? Had not [l. 1447] that bin as proper?
Ros.
1448By no meanes sir; Time trauels in diuers paces, [l. 1449] with diuers persons: Ile tel you who Time ambles with [l. 1450] all, who Time trots withal, who Time gallops withal, [l. 1451] and who he stands stil withal.
Orl.
1452I prethee, who doth he trot withal?
Ros.
1453Marry he trots hard with a yong maid, between [l. 1454] the contract of her marriage, and the day it is solemnizd: [l. 1455] if the interim be but a sennight, Times pace is so hard, [l. 1456] that it seemes the length of seuen yeare.
Orl.
1457Who ambles Time withal?
Ros.
1458With a Priest that lacks Latine, and a rich man [l. 1459] that hath not the Gowt: for the one sleepes easily be [l. 1460] cause he cannot study, and the other liues merrily, be [l. 1461] cause he feeles no paine: the one lacking the burthen of [l. 1462] leane and wasteful Learning; the other knowing no bur [l. 1463] then of heauie tedious penurie. These Time ambles [l. 1464] withal.
Orl.
1465Who doth he gallop withal?
Ros.
1466With a theefe to the gallowes: for though hee [l. 1467] go as softly as foot can fall, he thinkes himselfe too soon [l. 1468] there.
Orl.
1469Who staies it stil withal?
Ros.
1470With Lawiers in the vacation: for they sleepe [l. 1471] betweene Terme and Terme, and then they perceiue not [l. 1472] how time moues.
Orl.
1473Where dwel you prettie youth?
Ros.
1474With this Shepheardesse my sister: heere in the [l. 1475] skirts of the Forrest, like fringe vpon a petticoat.
Orl.
Ros.
1477As the Conie that you see dwell where shee is [l. 1478] kindled.
Orl.
1479Your accent is something finer, then you could [l. 1480] purchase in so remoued a dwelling.
Ros.
1481I haue bin told so of many: but indeed, an olde [l. 1482] religious Vnckle of mine taught me to speake, who was [l. 1483] in his youth an inland man, one that knew Courtship too [l. 1484] well: for there he fel in loue. I haue heard him read ma [l. 1485] ny Lectors against it, and I thanke God, I am not a Wo [l. 1486] man to be touch'd with so many giddie offences as hee [l. 1487] hath generally tax'd their whole sex withal.
Orl.
1488Can you remember any of the principall euils, [l. 1489] that he laid to the charge of women?
Ros.
1490There were none principal, they were all like [l. 1491] one another, as halfe pence are, euerie one fault seeming [l. 1492] monstrous, til his fellow‑fault came to match it.
Orl.
1493I prethee recount some of them.
Ros.
1494No: I wil not cast away my physick, but on those [l. 1495] that are sicke. There is a man haunts the Forrest, that a [l. 1496] buses our yong plants with caruing Rosalinde on their [l. 1497] barkes; hangs Oades vpon Hauthornes, and Elegies on [l. 1498] brambles; all (forsooth) defying the name of Rosalinde. [l. 1499] If I could meet that Fancie‑monger, I would giue him [l. 1500] some good counsel, for he seemes to haue the Quotidian [l. 1501] of Loue vpon him.
Orl.
1502I am he that is so Loue‑shak'd, I pray you tel [l. 1503] me your remedie.
Ros.
1504There is none of my Vnckles markes vpon you: [l. 1505] he taught me how to know a man in loue: in which cage [l. 1506] of rushes, I am sure you art not prisoner.
Orl.
1507What were his markes?
Ros.
1508A leane cheeke, which you haue not: a blew eie [l. 1509] and sunken, which you haue not: an vnquestionable spi [l. 1510] rit, which you haue not: a beard neglected, which you [l. 1511] haue not: (but I pardon you for that, for simply your ha [l. 1512] uing in beard, is a yonger brothers reuennew) then your [l. 1513] hose should be vngarter'd, your bonnet vnbanded, your [l. 1514] sleeue vnbutton'd, your shoo vnti'de, and euerie thing [l. 1515] about you, demonstrating a carelesse desolation: but you [l. 1516] are no such man; you are rather point deuice in your ac [l. 1517] coustrements, as louing your selfe, then seeming the Lo [l. 1518] uer of any other.
Orl.
1519Faire youth, I would I could make thee beleeue [l. 1520] (I Loue.
Ros.
1521Me beleeue it? You may assoone make her that [l. 1522] you Loue beleeue it, which I warrant she is apter to do, [l. 1523] then to confesse she do's: that is one of the points, in the [l. 1524] which women stil giue the lie to their consciences. But [l. 1525] in good sooth, are you he that hangs the verses on the [l. 1526] Trees, wherein Rosalind is so admired?
Orl.
1527I sweare to thee youth, by the white hand of [l. 1528] Rosalind, I am that he, that vnfortunate he.
Ros.
1529But are you so much in loue, as your rimes speak?
Orl.
Ros.
1531Loue is meerely a madnesse, and I tel you, de [l. 1532] serues as wel a darke house, and a whip, as madmen do: [l. 1533] and the reason why they are not so punish'd and cured, is [l. 1534] that the Lunacie is so ordinarie, that the whippers are in [l. 1535] loue too: yet I professe curing it by counsel.
Orl.
1536Did you euer cure any so?
Ros.
1537Yes one, and in this manner. Hee was to ima [l. 1538] gine me his Loue, his Mistris: and I set him euerie day [l. 1539] to woe me. At which time would I, being but a moonish [l. 1540] youth, greeue, be effeminate, changeable, longing, and [l. 1541] liking, proud, fantastical, apish, shallow, inconstant, ful [l. 1542] of teares, full of smiles; for euerie passion something, and [l. 1543] for no passion truly any thing, as boyes and women are [l. 1544] for the most part, cattle of this colour: would now like [l. 1545] him, now loath him: then entertaine him, then forswear [l. 1546] him: now weepe for him, then spit at him; that I draue [l. 1547] my Sutor from his mad humor of loue, to a liuing humor [l. 1548] of madnes, wc was to forsweare the ful stream of yͤ world, [l. 1549] and to liue in a nooke meerly Monastick: and thus I cur'd [l. 1550] him, and this way wil I take vpon mee to wash your Li [l. 1551] uer as cleane as a sound sheepes heart, that there shal not [l. 1552] be one spot of Loue in't.
Orl.
1553I would not be cured, youth.
Ros.
1554I would cure you, if you would but call me Rosa [l. 1555] lind, and come euerie day to my Coat, and woe me.
![[p. 198]](FFimg:axc0218-0.jpg){kind=link}
Orlan.
1556Now by the faith of my loue, I will; Tel me [l. 1557] where it is.
Ros.
1558Go with me to it, and Ile shew it you: and by [l. 1559] the way, you shal tell me, where in the Forrest you liue: [l. 1560] Wil you go?
Orl.
1561With all my heart, good youth.
Ros.
1562Nay, you must call mee Rosalind: Come sister, [l. 1563] will you go?
Scœna Tertia
[Act 3, Scene 3]
Clo.
1564Come apace good Audrey, I wil fetch vp your [l. 1565] Goates, Audrey: and how Audrey am I the man yet? [l. 1566] Doth my simple feature content you?
Aud.
1567Your features, Lord warrant vs: what features?
Clo.
1568I am heere with thee, and thy Goats, as the most [l. 1569] capricious Poet honest Ouid was among the Gothes.
Iaq.
1570O knowledge ill inhabited, worse then Ioue in [l. 1571] a thatch'd house.
Clo.
1572When a mans verses cannot be vnderstood, nor [l. 1573] a mans good wit seconded with the forward childe, un [l. 1574] derstanding: it strikes a man more dead then a great rec [l. 1575] koning in a little roome: truly, I would the Gods hadde [l. 1576] made thee poeticall.
Aud.
1577I do not know what Poetical is: is it honest in [l. 1578] deed and word: is it a true thing?
Clo.
1579No trulie: for the truest poetrie is the most fai [l. 1580] ning, and Louers are giuen to Poetrie: and what they [l. 1581] sweare in Poetrie, may be said as Louers, they do feigne.
Aud.
1582Do you wish then that the Gods had made me [l. 1583] Poeticall?
Clow.
1584I do truly: for thou swear'st to me thou art ho [l. 1585] nest: Now if thou wert a Poet, I might haue some hope [l. 1586] thou didst feigne.
Aud.
1587Would you not haue me honest?
Clo.
1588No truly, vnlesse thou wert hard fauour'd: for [l. 1589] honestie coupled to beautie, is to haue Honie a sawce to [l. 1590] Sugar.
Iaq.
1591A materiall foole.
Aud.
1592Well, I am not faire, and therefore I pray the [l. 1593] Gods make me honest.
Clo.
1594Truly, and to cast away honestie vppon a foule [l. 1595] slut, were to put good meate into an vncleane dish.
Aud.
1596I am not a slut, though I thanke the Goddes I [l. 1597] am foule.
Clo.
1598Well, praised be the Gods, for thy foulnesse; slut [l. 1599] tishnesse may come heereafter. But be it, as it may bee, [l. 1600] I wil marrie thee: and to that end, I haue bin with Sir [l. 1601] Oliuer Mar‑text, the Vicar of the next village, who hath [l. 1602] promis'd to meete me in this place of the Forrest, and to [l. 1603] couple vs.
Iaq.
1604I would faine see this meeting.
Aud.
1605Wel, the Gods giue vs ioy.
Clo.
1606Amen. A man may if he were of a fearful heart, [l. 1607] stagger in this attempt: for heere wee haue no Temple [l. 1608] but the wood, no assembly but horne‑beasts. But what [l. 1609] though? Courage. As hornes are odious, they are neces [l. 1610] sarie. It is said, many a man knowes no end of his goods; [l. 1611] right: Many a man has good Hornes, and knows no end [l. 1612] of them. Well, that is the dowrie of his wife, 'tis none [l. 1613] of his owne getting; hornes, euen so poore men alone: [l. 1614] No, no, the noblest Deere hath them as huge as the Ras [l. 1615] call: Is the single man therefore blessed? No, as a wall'd [l. 1616] Towne is more worthier then a village, so is the fore [l. 1617] head of a married man, more honourable then the bare [l. 1618] brow of a Batcheller: and by how much defence is bet [l. 1619] ter then no skill, by so much is a horne more precious [l. 1620] then to want.
1621Heere comes Sir Oliuer: Sir Oliuer Mar‑text you are [l. 1622] wel met. Will you dispatch vs heere vnder this tree, or [l. 1623] shal we go with you to your Chappell?
Ol.
1624Is there none heere to giue the woman?
Clo.
1625I wil not take her on guift of any man.
Ol.
1626Truly she must be giuen, or the marriage is not [l. 1627] lawfull.
Iaq.
1628Proceed, proceede: Ile giue her.
Clo.
1629Good euen good Mr what ye cal't: how do you [l. 1630] Sir, you are verie well met: goddild you for your last [l. 1631] companie, I am verie glad to see you, euen a toy in hand [l. 1632] heere Sir: Nay, pray be couer'd.
Iaq.
1633Wil you be married, Motley?
Clo.
1634As the Oxe hath his bow sir, the horse his curb, [l. 1635] and the Falcon her bels, so man hath his desires, and as [l. 1636] Pigeons bill, so wedlocke would be nibbling.
Iaq.
1637And wil you (being a man of your breeding) be [l. 1638] married vnder a bush like a begger? Get you to church, [l. 1639] and haue a good Priest that can tel you what marriage is, [l. 1640] this fellow wil but ioyne you together, as they ioyne [l. 1641] Wainscot, then one of you wil proue a shrunke pannell, [l. 1642] and like greene timber, warpe, warpe.
Clo.
1643I am not in the minde, but I were better to bee [l. 1644] married of him then of another, for he is not like to mar [l. 1645] rie me wel: and not being wel married, it wil be a good [l. 1646] excuse for me heereafter, to leaue my wife.
Iaq.
Ol.
1651Farewel good Mr Oliuer: Not O sweet Oliuer, O braue [l. 1652] Oliuer leaue me not behind thee: But winde away, bee [l. 1653] gone I say, I wil not to wedding with thee.
Ol.
1654'Tis no matter; Ne're a fantastical knaue of them [l. 1655] all shal flout me out of my calling.
Scœna Quarta.
[Act 3, Scene 4]
Ros.
Cel.
1657Do I prethee, but yet haue the grace to consider, [l. 1658] that teares do not become a man.
Ros.
Cel.
Ros.
Cel.
Ros.
Cel.
Ros.
![[p. 199]](FFimg:axc0219-0.jpg){kind=link}
Cel.
1671Hee hath bought a paire of cast lips of Diana: a [l. 1672] Nun of winters sisterhood kisses not more religiouslie, [l. 1673] the very yce of chastity is in them.
Rosa.
1674But why did hee sweare hee would come this [l. 1675] morning, and comes not?
Cel.
Ros.
1677Doe you thinke so?
Cel.
1678Yes, I thinke he is not a picke purse, nor a horse [l. 1679] stealer, but for his verity in loue, I doe thinke him as [l. 1680] concaue as a couered goblet, or a Worme‑eaten nut.
Ros.
1681Not true in loue?
Cel.
1682Yes, when he is in, but I thinke he is not in.
Ros.
1683You haue heard him sweare downright he was.
Cel.
1684Was, is not is: besides, the oath of Louer is no [l. 1685] stronger then the word of a Tapster, they are both the [l. 1686] confirmer of false reckonings, he attends here in the for [l. 1687] rest on the Duke your father.
Ros.
1688I met the Duke yesterday, and had much que [l. 1689] stion with him: he askt me of what parentage I was; I [l. 1690] told him of as good as he, so he laugh'd and let mee goe. [l. 1691] But what talke wee of Fathers, when there is such a man [l. 1692] as Orlando?
Cel.
1693O that's a braue man, hee writes braue verses, [l. 1694] speakes braue words, sweares braue oathes, and breakes [l. 1695] them brauely, quite trauers athwart the heart of his lo [l. 1696] uer, as a puisny Tilter, yt spurs his horse but on one side, [l. 1697] breakes his staffe like a noble goose; but all's braue that [l. 1698] youth mounts, and folly guides: who comes heere?
Corin.
Cel.
Cor.
Ros.
Scena Quinta.
[Act 3, Scene 5]
Sil.
Phe.
Sil.
Phe.
Ros.
Phe.
Ros.
Phe.
Ros.
![[p. 200]](FFimg:axc0220-0.jpg){kind=link}
Phe.
Sil.
Phe.
Sil.
Phe.
Sil.
Phe.
Sil.
Phe.
Sil.
Phe.
(while?
Sil.
Phe.
Sil.
Phe.
Actus Quartus. Scena Prima.
[Act 4, Scene 1]
Iaq.
1857I prethee, pretty youth, let me better acquainted [l. 1858] with thee.
Ros.
Iaq.
1860I am so: I doe loue it better then laughing.
Ros.
1861Those that are in extremity of either, are abho [l. 1862] minable fellowes, and betray themselues to euery mo [l. 1863] derne censure, worse then drunkards.
Iaq.
1864Why, 'tis good to be sad and say nothing.
Ros.
1865Why then 'tis good to be a poste.
Iaq.
1866I haue neither the Schollers melancholy, which [l. 1867] is emulation: nor the Musitians, which is fantasticall; [l. 1868] nor the Courtiers, which is proud: nor the Souldiers, [l. 1869] which is ambitious: nor the Lawiers, which is politick: [l. 1870] nor the Ladies, which is nice: nor the Louers, which [l. 1871] is all these: but it is a melancholy of mine owne, com [l. 1872] pounded of many simples, extracted from many obiects, [l. 1873] and indeed the sundrie contemplation of my trauells, in [l. 1874] which by often rumination, wraps me in a most humo [l. 1875] rous sadnesse.
Ros.
1876A Traueller: by my faith you haue great rea [l. 1877] son to be sad: I feare you haue sold your owne Lands, [l. 1878] to see other mens; then to haue seene much, and to haue [l. 1879] nothing, is to haue rich eyes and poore hands.
Iaq.
1880Yes, I haue gain'd my experience.
Ros.
1881And your experience makes you sad: I had ra [l. 1882] ther haue a foole to make me merrie, then experience to [l. 1883] make me sad, and to trauaile for it too.
Orl.
Iaq.
1885Nay then God buy you, and you talke in blanke [l. 1886] verse.
Ros.
1887Farewell Mounsieur Trauellor: looke you [l. 1888] lispe, and weare strange suites; disable all the benefits [l. 1889] of your owne Countrie: be out of loue with your [l. 1890] natiuitie, and almost chide God for making you that [l. 1891] countenance you are; or I will scarce thinke you haue [l. 1892] swam in a Gundello. Why how now Orlando, where [l. 1893] haue you bin all this while? you a louer? and you [l. 1894] serue me such another tricke, neuer come in my sight [l. 1895] more.
Orl.
1896My faire Rosalind, I come within an houre of my [l. 1897] promise.
Ros.
1898Breake an houres promise in loue? hee that [l. 1899] will diuide a minute into a thousand parts, and breake [l. 1900] but a part of the thousand part of a minute in the affairs [l. 1901] of loue, it may be said of him that Cupid hath clapt [l. 1902] him oth' shoulder, but Ile warrant him heart hole.
Orl.
1903Pardon me deere Rosalind.
Ros.
1904Nay, and you be so tardie, come no more in my [l. 1905] sight, I had as liefe be woo'd of a Snaile.
Orl.
1906Of a Snaile?
Ros.
1907I, of a Snaile: for though he comes slowly, hee [l. 1908] carries his house on his head; a better ioyncture I thinke [l. 1909] then you make a woman: besides, he brings his destinie [l. 1910] with him.
Orl.
1911What's that?
Ros.
1912Why hornes: wc such as you are faine to be be [l. 1913] holding to your wiues for: but he comes armed in his [l. 1914] fortune, and preuents the slander of his wife.
![[p. 201]](FFimg:axc0221-0.jpg){kind=link}
Orl.
vertuous.
Ros.
1916And I am your Rosalind.
Cel.
1917It pleases him to call you so: but he hath a Rosa [l. 1918] lind of a better leere then you.
Ros.
1919Come, wooe me, wooe mee: for now I am in a [l. 1920] holy‑day humor, and like enough to consent: What [l. 1921] would you say to me now, and I were your verie, verie [l. 1922] Rosalind?
Orl.
1923I would kisse before I spoke.
Ros.
1924Nay, you were better speake first, and when you [l. 1925] were grauel'd, for lacke of matter, you might take oc [l. 1926] casion to kisse: verie good Orators when they are out, [l. 1927] they will spit, and for louers, lacking (God warne vs) [l. 1928] matter, the cleanliest shift is to kisse.
Orl.
1929How if the kisse be denide?
Ros.
1930Then she puts you to entreatie, and there begins [l. 1931] new matter.
Orl.
1932Who could be out, being before his beloued [l. 1933] Mistris?
Ros.
1934Marrie that should you if I were your Mistris, [l. 1935] or I should thinke my honestie ranker then my wit.
Orl.
1936What, of my suite?
Ros.
1937Not out of your apparrell, and yet out of your [l. 1938] suite:
1939Am not I your Rosalind?
Orl.
1940I take some ioy to say you are, because I would [l. 1941] be talking of her.
Ros.
1942Well, in her person, I say I will not haue you.
Orl.
1943Then in mine owne person, I die.
Ros.
1944No faith, die by Attorney: the poore world is [l. 1945] almost six thousand yeeres old, and in all this time there [l. 1946] was not anie man died in his owne person (videlicet) in [l. 1947] a loue cause: Troilous had his braines dash'd out with a [l. 1948] Grecian club, yet he did what hee could to die before, [l. 1949] and he is one of the patternes of loue. Leander, he would [l. 1950] haue liu'd manie a faire yeere though Hero had turn'd [l. 1951] Nun; if it had not bin for a hot Midsomer‑night, for [l. 1952] (good youth) he went but forth to wash him in the Hel [l. 1953] lespont, and being taken with the crampe, was droun'd, [l. 1954] and the foolish Chronoclers of that age, found it was [l. 1955] Hero of Cestos. But these are all lies, men haue died [l. 1956] from time to time, and wormes haue eaten them, but not [l. 1957] for loue.
Orl.
1958I would not haue my right Rosalind of this mind, [l. 1959] for I protest her frowne might kill me.
Ros.
1960By this hand, it will not kill a flie: but come, [l. 1961] now I will be your Rosalind in a more comming‑on dis [l. 1962] position: and aske me what you will, I will grant it.
Orl.
1963Then loue me Rosalind.
Ros.
1964Yes faith will I, fridaies and saterdaies, and all.
Orl.
1965And wilt thou haue me?
Ros.
1966I, and twentie such.
Orl.
1967What saiest thou?
Ros.
1968Are you not good?
Orl.
1969I hope so.
Rosalind.
1970Why then, can one desire too much of a [l. 1971] good thing: Come sister, you shall be the Priest, and [l. 1972] marrie vs: giue me your hand Orlando: What doe you [l. 1973] say sister?
Orl.
1974Pray thee marrie vs.
Cel.
1975I cannot say the words.
Ros.
1976You must begin, will you Orlando.
Cel.
1977Goe too: wil you Orlando, haue to wife this Ro [l. 1978] salind?
Orl.
1979I will.
Ros.
1980I, but when?
Orl.
1981Why now, as fast as she can marrie vs.
Ros.
1982Then you must say, I take thee Rosalind for [l. 1983] wife.
Orl.
1984I take thee Rosalind for wife.
Ros.
1985I might aske you for your Commission,
1986But I doe take thee Orlando for my husband: there's a [l. 1987] girle goes before the Priest, and certainely a Womans [l. 1988] thought runs before her actions.
Orl.
1989So do all thoughts, they are wing'd.
Ros.
1990Now tell me how long you would haue her, af [l. 1991] ter you haue possest her?
Orl.
1992For euer, and a day.
Ros.
1993Say a day, without the euer: no, no Orlando, men [l. 1994] are Aprill when they woe, December when they wed: [l. 1995] Maides are May when they are maides, but the sky chan [l. 1996] ges when they are wiues: I will bee more iealous of [l. 1997] thee, then a Barbary cocke‑pidgeon ouer his hen, more [l. 1998] clamorous then a Parrat against raine, more new‑fang [l. 1999] led then an ape, more giddy in my desires, then a mon [l. 2000] key: I will weepe for nothing, like Diana in the Foun [l. 2001] taine, & I wil do that when you are dispos'd to be merry: [l. 2002] I will laugh like a Hyen, and that when thou art inclin'd [l. 2003] to sleepe.
Orl.
2004But will my Rosalind doe so?
Ros.
2005By my life, she will doe as I doe.
Orl.
2006O but she is wise.
Ros.
2007Or else shee could not haue the wit to doe this: [l. 2008] the wiser, the waywarder: make the doores vpon a wo [l. 2009] mans wit, and it will out at the casement: shut that, and [l. 2010] 'twill out at the key‑hole: stop that, 'twill flie with the [l. 2011] smoake out at the chimney.
Orl.
2012A man that had a wife with such a wit, he might [l. 2013] say, wit whether wil't?
Ros.
2014Nay, you might keepe that checke for it, till you [l. 2015] met your wiues wit going to your neighbours bed.
Orl.
2016And what wit could wit haue, to excuse that?
Rosa.
2017Marry to say, she came to seeke you there: you [l. 2018] shall neuer take her without her answer, vnlesse you take [l. 2019] her without her tongue: T that woman that cannot [l. 2020] make her fault her husbands occasion, let her neuer nurse [l. 2021] her childe her selfe, for she will breed it like a foole.
Orl.
2022For these two houres Rosalinde, I wil leaue thee.
Ros.
2023Alas, deere loue, I cannot lacke thee two houres.
Orl.
2024I must attend the Duke at dinner, by two a clock [l. 2025] I will be with thee againe.
Ros.
2026I, goe your waies, goe your waies: I knew what [l. 2027] you would proue, my friends told mee as much, and I [l. 2028] thought no lesse: that flattering tongue of yours wonne [l. 2029] me: 'tis but one cast away, and so come death: two o' [l. 2030] clocke is your howre.
Orl.
2031I, sweet Rosalind.
Ros.
2032By my troth, and in good earnest, and so God [l. 2033] mend mee, and by all pretty oathes that are not dange [l. 2034] rous, if yo[.] breake one iot of your promise, or come one [l. 2035] minute behinde your houre, I will thinke you the most [l. 2036] patheticall breake‑promise, and the most hollow louer, [l. 2037] and the most vnworthy of her you call Rosalinde, that [l. 2038] may bee chosen out of the grosse band of the vnfaithભ [l. 2039] full: therefore beware my censure, and keep your pro [l. 2040] mise.
Orl.
2041With no lesse religion, then if thou wert indeed [l. 2042] my Rosalind: so adieu.
Ros.
2043Well, Time is the olde Iustice that examines all [l. 2044] such offenders, and let time try: adieu.
Cel.
2045You haue simply misus'd our sexe in your loue prate: [p. 202] As you like it. [l. 2046] prate: we must haue your doublet and hose pluckt ouer [l. 2047] your head, and shew the world what the bird hath done [l. 2048] to her owne neast.
![[p. 202]](FFimg:axc0222-0.jpg){kind=link}
Ros.
2049O coz, coz, coz: my pretty little coz, that thou [l. 2050] didst know how many fathome deepe I am in loue: but [l. 2051] it cannot bee sounded: my affection hath an vnknowne [l. 2052] bottome, like the Bay of Portugall.
Cel.
2053Or rather bottomlesse, that as fast as you poure [l. 2054] affection in, in runs out.
Ros.
2055No, that same wicked Bastard of Venus, that was [l. 2056] begot of thought, conceiu'd of spleene, and borne of [l. 2057] madnesse, that blinde rascally boy, that abuses euery [l. 2058] ones eyes, because his owne are out, let him bee iudge, [l. 2059] how deepe I am in loue: ile tell thee Aliena, I cannot be [l. 2060] out of the sight of Orlando: Ile goe finde a shadow, and [l. 2061] sigh till he come.
Cel.
2062And Ile sleepe.
Scena Secunda.
[Act 4, Scene 2]
Iaq.
2063Which is he that killed the Deare?
Lord.
2064Sir, it was I.
Iaq.
2065Let's present him to the Duke like a Romane [l. 2066] Conquerour, and it would doe well to set the Deares [l. 2067] horns vpon his head, for a branch of victory; haue you [l. 2068] no song Forrester for this purpose?
Lord.
2069Yes Sir.
Iaq.
2070Sing it: 'tis no matter how it bee in tune, so it [l. 2071] make noyse enough.
Scœna Tertia.
[Act 4, Scene 3]
Ros.
Cel.
Sil.
Ros.
Sil.
Ros.
Sil.
Ros.
Sil.
Ros.
Sil.
Ros.
Sil.
Cel.
Ros.
2147Doe you pitty him? No, he deserues no pitty: [l. 2148] wilt thou loue such a woman? what to make thee an in [l. 2149] strument, and play false straines vpon thee? not to be en [l. 2150] dur'd. Well, goe your way to her; (for I see Loue hath [l. 2151] made thee a tame snake) and say this to her; That if she [l. 2152] loue me, I charge her to loue thee: if she will not, I will [l. 2153] neuer haue her, vnlesse thou intreat for her: if you bee a [l. 2154] true louer hence, and not a word; for here comes more [l. 2155] company.
Oliu.
know)
![[p. 203]](FFimg:axc0223-0.jpg){kind=link}
Cel.
Oli.
Cel.
Oli.
Ros.
Oli.
Cel.
Oli.
Cel.
Oli.
Ros.
Oli.
Cel.
Ros.
Cel.
Oli.
Ros.
Oli.
Cel.
Oli.
Cel.
Oli.
Ros.
Cel.
Oli.
Ros.
2252Ah, sirra, a body would thinke this was well counterfei [l. 2253] ted, I pray you tell your brother how well I counterfei [l. 2254] ted: heigh‑ho.
Oli.
2255This was not counterfeit, there is too great te [l. 2256] stimony in your complexion, that it was a passion of ear [l. 2257] nest.
Ros.
2258Counterfeit, I assure you.
Oli.
2259Well then, take a good heart, and counterfeit to [l. 2260] be a man.
Ros.
2261So I doe: but yfaith, I should haue beene a wo [l. 2262] man by right.
Cel.
2263C[.]me, you looke paler and paler: pray you draw [l. 2264] homewards: good sir, goe with vs.
Oli.
Ros.
2267I shall deuise something: but I pray you com [l. 2268] mend my counterfeiting to him: will you goe?
Actus Quintus. Scena Prima.
[Act 5, Scene 1]
Clow.
2269We shall finde a time Awdrie, patience gen [l. 2270] tle Awdrie.
Awd.
2271Faith the Priest was good enough, for all the [l. 2272] olde gentlemans saying.
Clow.
2273A most wicked Sir Oliuer, Awdrie, a most vile [l. 2274] Mar‑text. But Awdrie, there is a youth heere in the [l. 2275] Forrest layes claime to you.
Awd.
2276I, I know who 'tis: he hath no interest in mee [l. 2277] in the world: here comes the man you meane.
Clo.
2278It is meat and drinke to me to see a Clowne, by my [p. 204] As you like it. [l. 2279] my troth, we that haue good wits, haue much to answer [l. 2280] for: we shall be flouting: we cannot hold.
![[p. 204]](FFimg:axc0224-0.jpg){kind=link}
Will.
2281Good eu'n Audrey.
Aud.
2282God ye good eu'n William.
Will.
2283And good eu'n to you Sir.
Clo.
2284Good eu'n gentle friend. Couer thy head, couer [l. 2285] thy head: Nay prethee bee couer'd. How olde are you [l. 2286] Friend?
Will.
2287Fiue and twentie Sir.
Clo.
2288A ripe age: Is thy name William?
Will.
2289William, sir.
Clo.
2290A faire name. Was't borne i'th Forrest heere?
Will.
2291I sir, I thanke God.
Clo.
2292Thanke God: A good answer:
2293Art rich?
Will.
2294'Faith sir, so, so.
Clo.
2295So, so, is good, very good, very excellent good: [l. 2296] and yet it is not, it is but so, so:
2297Art thou wise?
Will.
2298I sir, I haue a prettie wit.
Clo.
2299Why, thou saist well. I do now remember a say [l. 2300] ing: The Foole doth thinke he is wise, but the wiseman [l. 2301] knowes himselfe to be a Foole. The Heathen Philoso [l. 2302] pher, when he had a desire to eate a Grape, would open [l. 2303] his lips when he put it into his mouth, meaning there [l. 2304] by, that Grapes were made to eate, and lippes to open. [l. 2305] You do loue this maid?
Will.
2306I do sit sir.
Clo.
2307Giue me your hand: Art thou Learned?
Will.
2308No sir.
Clo.
2309Then learne this of me, To haue, is to haue. For [l. 2310] it is a figure in Rhetoricke, that drink being powr'd out [l. 2311] of a cup into a glasse, by filling the one, doth empty the [l. 2312] other. For all your Writers do consent, that ipse is hee: [l. 2313] now you are not ipse, for I am he.
Will.
2314Which he sir?
Clo.
2315He sir, that must marrie this woman: Therefore [l. 2316] you Clowne, abandon: which is in the vulgar, leaue the [l. 2317] societie: which in the boorish, is companie, of this fe [l. 2318] male: which in the common, is woman: which toge [l. 2319] ther, is, abandon the society of this Female, or Clowne [l. 2320] thou perishest: or to thy better vnderstanding, dyest; or [l. 2321] (to wit) I kill thee, make thee away, translate thy life in [l. 2322] to death, thy libertie into bondage: I will deale in poy [l. 2323] son with thee, or in bastinado, or in steele: I will bandy [l. 2324] with thee in faction, I will ore‑run thee with policie: I [l. 2325] will kill thee a hundred and fifty wayes, therefore trem [l. 2326] ble and depart.
A[.]d.
2327Do good William.
Will.
2328God rest you merry sir.
Cor.
2329Our Master and Mistresse seekes you: come a [l. 2330] way, away.
Clo.
2331Trip Audry, trip Audry, I attend, [l. 2332] I attend.
Soeena Secunda.
[Act 5, Scene 2]
Orl.
2333Is't possible, that on so little acquaintance you [l. 2334] should like her? that, but seeing, you should loue her? [l. 2335] And louing woo? and wooing, she should graunt? And [l. 2336] will you perseuer to enioy her?
Ol.
2337Neither call the giddinesse of it in question; the [l. 2338] pouertie of her, the small acquaintance, my sodaine wo [l. 2339] ing, nor sodaine consenting: but say with mee, I loue [l. 2340] Aliena: say with her, that she loues mee; consent with [l. 2341] both, that we may enioy each other: it shall be to your [l. 2342] good: for my fathers house, and all the reuennew, that [l. 2343] was old Sir Rowlands will I estate vpon you, and here [l. 2344] liue and die a Shepherd.
Orl.
Ros.
Ol.
Ros.
2352Oh my deere Orlando, how it greeues me to see [l. 2353] thee weare thy heart in a scarfe.
Orl.
2354It is my arme.
Ros.
2355I thought thy heart had beene wounded with [l. 2356] the clawes of a Lion.
Orl.
2357Wounded it is, but with the eyes of a Lady.
Ros.
2358Did your brother tell you how I counterfeyted [l. 2359] to sound, when he shew'd me your handkercher?
Orl.
2360I, and greater wonders then that.
Ros.
2361O, I know where you are: nay, tis true: there [l. 2362] was neuer any thing so sodaine, but the fight of two [l. 2363] Rammes, and Cesars Thrasonicall bragge of I came, saw, [l. 2364] and ouercome. For your brother, and my sister, no soo [l. 2365] ner met, but they look'd: no sooner look'd, but they [l. 2366] lou'd; no sooner lou'd, but they sigh'd: no sooner sigh'd [l. 2367] but they ask'd one another the reason: no sooner knew [l. 2368] the reason, but they sought the remedie: and in these [l. 2369] degrees, haue they made a paire of staires to marriage, [l. 2370] which they will climbe incontinent, or else bee inconti [l. 2371] nent before marriage; they are in the verie wrath of [l. 2372] loue, and they will together. Clubbes cannot part [l. 2373] them.
Orl.
2374They shall be married to morrow: and I will [l. 2375] bid the Duke to the Nuptiall. But O, how bitter a thing [l. 2376] it is, to looke into happines through another mans eies: [l. 2377] by so much the more shall I to morrow be at the height [l. 2378] of heart heauinesse. by how much I shal thinke my bro [l. 2379] ther happie, in hauing what he wishes for.
Ros.
2380Why then to morrow, I cannot serue your turne [l. 2381] for Rosalind?
Orl.
2382I can liue no longer by thinking.
Ros.
2383I will wearie you then no longer with idle tal [l. 2384] king. Know of me then (for now I speake to some pur [l. 2385] pose) that I know you are a Gentleman of good conceit: [l. 2386] I speake not this, that you should beare a good opinion [l. 2387] of my knowledge: insomuch (I say) I know you are: nei [l. 2388] ther do I labor for a greater esteeme then may in some [l. 2389] little measure draw a beleefe from you, to do your selfe [l. 2390] good, and not to grace me. Beleeue then, if you please, [l. 2391] that I can do strange things: I haue since I was three [l. 2392] yeare old conuerst with a Magitian, most profound in [l. 2393] his Art, and yet not damnable. If you do loue Rosalinde [l. 2394] so neere the hart, as your gesture cries it out: when your [l. 2395] brother marries Aliena, shall you marrie her. I know in [l. 2396] to what straights of Fortune she is driuen, and it is not [l. 2397] impossible to me, if it appeare not inconuenient to you, to [p. 205] As you like it. [l. 2398] to set her before your eyes to morrow, humane as she is, [l. 2399] and without any danger.
![[p. 205]](FFimg:axc0225-0.jpg){kind=link}
Orl.
2400Speak'st thou in sober meanings?
Ros.
2401By my life I do, which I tender deerly, though [l. 2402] I say I am a Magitian: Therefore put you in your best a [l. 2403] ray, bid your friends: for if you will be married to mor [l. 2404] row, you shall: and to Rosalind if you will.
2405Looke, here comes a Louer of mine, and a louer of hers.
Phe.
Ros.
Phe.
Sil.
Phe.
Orl.
Ros.
Sil.
Phe.
Orl.
Ros.
Sil.
Phe.
Orl.
Ros.
Phe.
Sil.
Orl.
Ros.
2435Why do you speake too, Why blame you mee [l. 2436] to loue you.
Orl.
Ros.
2438Pray you no more of this, 'tis like the howling [l. 2439] of Irish Wolues against the Moone: I will helpe you [l. 2440] if I can: I would loue you if I could: To morrow meet [l. 2441] me altogether: I wil marrie you, if euer I marrie Wo [l. 2442] man, and Ile be married to morrow: I will satisfie you, [l. 2443] if euer I satisfi'd man, and you shall bee married to mor [l. 2444] row. I wil content you, if what pleases you contents [l. 2445] you, and you shal be married to orrow: As you loue [l. 2446] Rosalind meet, as you loue Phebe meet, and as I loue no [l. 2447] woman, Ile meet: so fare you wel: I haue left you com [l. 2448] mands.
Sil.
Phe.
Orl.
Scœna Tertia.
[Act 5, Scene 3]
Clo.
2452To morrow is the ioyfull day Audrey, to morrow [l. 2453] will we be married.
Aud.
2454I do desire it with all my heart: and I hope it is [l. 2455] no dishonest desire, to desire to be a woman of yͤ world? [l. 2456] Heere come two of the banish'd Dukes Pages.
1. Pa.
2457Wel met honest Gentleman.
Clo.
2458By my troth well met: come, sit, sit, and a song.
2. Pa.
2459We are for you, sit i'th middle.
1. Pa.
2460Shal we clap into't roundly, without hauking, [l. 2461] or spitting, or saying we are hoarse, which are the onely [l. 2462] prologues to a bad voice.
2. Pa.
2463I faith, y'faith, and both in a tune like two [l. 2464] gipsies on a horse.
Clo.
2483Truly yong Gentlemen, though there vvas no [l. 2484] great matter in the dittie, yet yͤ note was very vntunable
1. Pa.
2485you are deceiu'd Sir, we kept time, we lost not [l. 2486] our time.
Clo.
2487By my troth yes: I count it but time lost to heare [l. 2488] such a foolish song. God buy you, and God mend your [l. 2489] voices. Come Audrie.
Scena Quarta.
[Act 5, Scene 4]
do, Oliuer, Celia.
Du. Sen.
Orl.
Ros.
Du. Se.
Ros.
Orl.
Ros.
Phe.
Ros.
Phe.
Ros.
Sil.
thing.
![[p. 206]](FFimg:axc0226-0.jpg){kind=link}
Ros.
Du. Sen.
Orl.
Iaq.
2524There is sure another flood toward, and these [l. 2525] couples are comming to the Arke. Here comes a payre [l. 2526] of verie strange beasts, which in all tongues, are call'd [l. 2527] Fooles.
Clo.
2528Salutation and greeting to you all.
Iaq.
2529Good my Lord, bid him welcome: This is the [l. 2530] Motley‑minded Gentleman, that I haue so often met in [l. 2531] the Forrest: he hath bin a Courtier he swears.
Clo.
2532If any man doubt that, let him put mee to my [l. 2533] purgation, I haue trod a measure, I haue flattred a Lady, [l. 2534] I haue bin politicke with my friend, smooth with mine [l. 2535] enemie, I haue vndone three Tailors, I haue had foure [l. 2536] quarrels, and like to haue fought one.
Iaq.
2537And how was that tane vp?
Clo.
2538'Faith we met, and found the quarrel was vpon [l. 2539] the seuenth cause.
Iaq.
2540How seuenth cause? Good my Lord, like this [l. 2541] fellow.
Du. Se.
2542I like him very well.
Clo.
2543God'ild you sir, I desire you of the like: I presse [l. 2544] in heere sir, amongst the rest of the Country copulatiues [l. 2545] to sweare, and to forsweare, according as marriage binds [l. 2546] and blood breakes: a poore virgin sir, an il‑fauor'd thing [l. 2547] sir, but mine owne, a poore humour of mine sir, to take [l. 2548] that that no man else will: rich honestie dwels like a mi [l. 2549] ser sir, in a poore house, as your Pearle in your foule oy [l. 2550] ster.
Du. Se.
2551By my faith, he is very swift, and sententious
Clo.
2552According to the fooles bolt sir, and such dulcet [l. 2553] diseases.
Iaq.
2554But for the seuenth cause. How did you finde [l. 2555] the quarrell on the seuenth cause?
Clo.
2556Vpon a lye, seuen times remoued: (beare your [l. 2557] bodie more seeming Audry) as thus sir: I did dislike the [l. 2558] cut of a certaine Courtiers beard: he sent me word, if I [l. 2559] said his beard was not cut well, hee was in the minde it [l. 2560] was: this is call'd the retort courteous. If I sent him [l. 2561] word againe, it was not well cut, he wold send me word [l. 2562] he cut it‑to please himselfe: this is call'd the quip modest. [l. 2563] If againe, it was not well cut, he disabled my iudgment: [l. 2564] this is called, the reply churlish. If againe it was not well [l. 2565] cut, he would answer I spake not true: this is call'd the [l. 2566] reproofe valiant. If againe, it was not well cut, he wold [l. 2567] say, I lie: this is call'd the counter‑checke quarrelsome: [l. 2568] and so to lye circumstantiall, and the lye direct.
Iaq.
2569And how oft did you say his beard was not well [l. 2570] cut?
Clo.
2571I durst go no further then the lye circumstantial: [l. 2572] nor he durst not giue me the lye direct: and so wee mea [l. 2573] sur'd swords, and parted.
Iaq.
2574Can you nominate in order now, the degrees of [l. 2575] the lye.
Clo.
2576O sir, we quarrel in print, by the booke: as you [l. 2577] haue bookes for good manners: I will name you the de [l. 2578] grees. The first, the Retort courteous: the second, the [l. 2579] Quip‑modest: the third, the reply Churlish: the fourth, [l. 2580] the Reproofe valiant: the fift, the Counterchecke quar [l. 2581] relsome: the sixt, the Lye with circumstance: the sea [l. 2582] uenth, the Lye direct: all these you may auoyd, but the [l. 2583] Lye direct: and you may auoide that too, with an If. I [l. 2584] knew when seuen Iustices could not take vp a Quarrell, [l. 2585] but when the parties were met themselues, one of them [l. 2586] thought but of an If; as if you saide so, then I saide so: [l. 2587] and they shooke hands, and swore brothers. Your If, is [l. 2588] the onely peace‑maker: much virtue in if.
Iaq.
2589Is not this a rare fellow my Lord? He's as good [l. 2590] at any thing, and yet a foole.
Du. Se.
2591He vses his folly like a stalking‑horse, and vn [l. 2592] der the presentation of that he shoots his wit.
Hymen.
attone together.
Ros.
Du. Se.
Orl.
Phe.
Ros.
Hy.
Du. Se.
![[p. 207]](FFimg:axc0227-0.jpg){kind=link}
Phe.
2. Bro.
Du. Se.
Iaq.
2. Bro.
Iaq.
Du. Se.
Iaq.
Du. Se.
Ros.
2684It is not the fashion to see the Ladie the Epi [l. 2685] logue: but it is no more vnhandsome, then to see the [l. 2686] Lord the Prologue. If it be true, that good wine needs [l. 2687] no bush, 'tis true, that a good play needes no Epilogue. [l. 2688] Yet to good wine they do vse good bushes: and good [l. 2689] playes proue the better by the helpe of good Epilogues: [l. 2690] What a case am I in then, that am neither a good Epi [l. 2691] logue, nor cannot insinuate with you in the behalfe of a [l. 2692] good play? I am not furnish'd like a Begger, therefore [l. 2693] to begge will not become mee. My way is to coniure [l. 2694] you, and Ile begin with the Women. I charge you (O [l. 2695] women) for the loue you beare to men, to like as much [l. 2696] of this Play, as please you: And I charge you (O men) [l. 2697] for the loue you beare to women (as I perceiue by your [l. 2698] simpring, none of you hates them) that betweene you, [l. 2699] and the women, the play may please. If I were a Wo [l. 2700] man, I would kisse as many of you as had beards that [l. 2701] pleas'd me, complexions that lik'd me, and breaths that [l. 2702] I defi'de not: And I am sure, as many as haue good [l. 2703] beards, or good faces, or sweet breaths, will for my kind [l. 2704] offer, when I make curt'sie, bid me farewell.
FINIS.