AS YOU LIKE IT. though I say I am a magician. Therefore, put Enter SILVIUS and PHEBE. 81 Look, here comes a lover of mine and a lover Phe. Youth, you have done me much un- To show the letter that I writ to you. Ros. I care not if I have: it is my study Sil. It is to be all made of sighs and tears; Phe. And I for Ganymede. Ros. And I for no woman. Sil. It is to be all made of faith and service; And so am I for Phebe. Phe. And I for Ganymede. Orl. And I for Rosalind. Ros. Sil. And I for no woman. It is to be all made of fantasy, All made of passion and all made of wishes, All humbleness, all patience and impatience, And so am I for Phebe. Phe. And so am I for Ganymede. And so am I for no woman. 100 Phe. If this be so, why blame you me to love you? Sil. If this be so, why blame you me to love you? Orl. If this be so, why blame you me to love you? Ros. Who do you speak to, 'Why blame you me to love you ?' [ACT V. Sec. Page. We are for you: sit i' the middle. First Page. Shall we clap into't roundly, without hawking or spitting or saying we are hoarse, which are the only prologues to a bad voice? Sec. Page. I'faith, i'faith; and both in a tune, like two gipsies on a horse. SONG. It was a lover and his lass, With a hey, and a ho, and a hey nonino, In the spring time, the only pretty ring time, Between the acres of the rye, With a hey, and a ho, and a hey nonino, This carol they began that hour, With a hey, and a ho, and a hey nonino, Touch. Truly, young gentlemen, though there was no great matter in the ditty, yet the note was very untuneable. time, we lost not our time. time lost to hear such a foolish song. God be SCENE IV. The forest. Enter DUKE senior, AMIENS, Jaques, Orlando, Orl. To her that is not here, nor doth not hear. Ros. Pray you, no more of this; 'tis like the howling of Irish wolves against the moon. [To Sil.] I will help you, if I can: [To Phe.] I would love you, if I could. To-morrow meet me all together. [To Phe.] I will marry you, ever I marry woman, and I'll be married toif morrow: [To Orl.] I will satisfy you, if ever I satisfied man, and you shall be married to-morrow: [To Sil.] I will content you, if what pleases you contents you, and you shall be married to-morrow. Rosalind, meet: [To Sil.] as you love Phebe, [To Orl.] As you love t meet and as I love no woman, I'll meet. fare you well: I have left you commands. So Sil. I'll not fail, if I live. Duke S. Dost thou believe, Orlando, that Can do all this that he hath promised? As those that fear they hope, and know they fear. You say, if I bring in your Rosalind, Duke S. That would I, had I kingdoms to Ros. And you say, you will have her, when I bring her? Orl. That would I, were I of all kingdoms Phe. That will I, should I die the hour after. Ros. But if you do refuse to marry me, You'll give yourself to this most faithful shepherd? Phe. So is the bargain. Ros. You say, that you'll have Phebe, if she will? Sil. Though to have her and death were both one thing. Ros. I have promised to make all this matter even. 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: Enter TOUCHSTONE and AUDREY. 30 Faq. 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. I 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 judgement: this is called the Reply Churlish. If again 'it was not well cut,' he would answer, I spake not true: this is called the Reproof Valiant. If again 'it was not well cut,' he would say, I lied: this is called the Countercheck Quarrelsome: and so to the Lie Circumstantial and the Lie Direct. Jaq. And how oft did you say his beard was not well cut? Touch. I durst go no further than the Lie Circumstantial, nor he durst not give me the Lie Direct; and so we measured swords and parted. Jaq. Can you nominate in order now the degrees of the lie? Touch. O sir, we quarrel in print, by the book; as you have books for good manners: I will name you the degrees. The first, the Retort Courteous; the second, the Quip Modest; the third, the Reply Churlish; the fourth, the Reproof Valiant; the fifth, the Countercheck Quarrelsome; the sixth, the Lie with Circumstance; the seventh, the Lie Direct. All these you may avoid but the Lie Direct; and you may avoid that too, with an If. I knew when seven justices could not take up a quarrel, but when the parties were met themselves, one of them thought but of an If, as, 'If you said so, then I said so;' and they shook hands and swore brothers. Your If is the only peace-maker; much virtue in If. 110 Jaq. Is not this a rare fellow, my lord? he's as good at any thing and yet a fool. Duke S. He uses his folly like a stalkinghorse and under the presentation of that he shoots his wit. Touch. If any man doubt that, let him put me to my purgation. I have trod a measure; have flattered a lady; I have been politic with my friend, smooth with mine enemy; I have undone three tailors; I have had four quarrels, and like Hym. to have fought one. 50 Jaq. And how was that ta'en up? was upon the seventh cause. Jag. How seventh cause? Good my lord, like this fellow. Duke S. I like him very well. Touch. God 'ild you, sir; I desire you of the like. I press in here, sir, amongst the rest of the country copulatives, to swear and to forswear; according as marriage binds and blood breaks: a poor virgin, sir, an ill-favoured thing, sir, but mine own; a poor humour of mine, sir, to take that that no man else will: rich honesty dwells like a miser, sir, in a poor house; as your pearl in your foul oyster. Duke S. By my faith, he is very swift and sententious. Touch. According to the fool's bolt, sir, and such dulcet diseases. Jaq. But, for the seventh cause; how did you find the quarrel on the seventh cause? 70 Touch. Upon a lie seven times removed :hear your body more seeming, Audrey :-as thus, sir. I did dislike the cut of a certain courtier's Enter HYMEN, ROSALIND, and CELIA. Then is there mirth in heaven, Atone together. Good duke, receive thy daughter: Hymen from heaven brought her, Yea, brought her hither, That thou mightst join her hand with his Whose heart within his bosom is. 121 Ros. [To duke] To you I give myself, for I am my daughter. Orl. If there be truth in sight, you are my Rosalind. Phe. If sight and shape be true, Ros. I'll have no father, if you be not he: 'Tis I must make conclusion Of these most strange events: If truth holds true contents. 130 170 I am the second son of old Sir Rowland, Faq. To him will I : out of these convertites There is much matter to be heard and learn'd. 191 [To duke] You to your former honour I bequeath; Your patience and your virtue well deserves it: [To Orl.] You to a love that your true faith doth merit : [To Oli.] You to your land and love and great allies: [To Sil.] You to a long and well-deserved bed: [To Touch.] And you to wrangling; for thy loving voyage Is but for two months victuall'd. So, to your pleasures: I am for other than for dancing measures. 200 Jag. 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, As we do trust they'll end, in true delights, EPILOGUE. [A dance. Ros. It is not the fashion to see the lady the epilogue; but it is no more unhandsome than to see the lord the prologue. If it be true that good wine needs no bush, 'tis true that a good play needs no epilogue; yet to good wine they do use good bushes, and good plays prove the better by the help of good epilogues. What a case am I in then, that am neither a good epilogue nor cannot insinuate with you in the behalf of a good play! I am not furnished like a beggar, therefore to beg will not become me: my way is to conjure you; and I'll begin with the women. I charge you, O women, for the love you bear to men, to like as much of this play as please you: and I charge you, O men, for the love you bear to women-as I perceive by your simpering, none of you hates them-that between you and the women the play may please. If I were a woman I would kiss as many of you as had beards that pleased me, complexions that liked me and breaths that I defied not: and, I am sure, as many as have good beards or good faces or sweet breaths will, for my kind offer, when I make curtsy, bid Play, music! And you, brides and bridegrooms all, me farewell. [Exeunt. SCENE I. Before an alehouse on a heath. Enter HOSTESS and SLY. Sly. I'll pheeze you, in faith. Host. A pair of stocks, you rogue! Sly. Ye are a baggage: the Slys are no rogues; look in the chronicles; we came in with Richard Conqueror. Therefore paucas pallabris; let the world slide: sessa! Host. You will not pay for the glasses you have burst? Sly. No, not a denier. Go by, Jeronimy: go to thy cold bed, and warm thee. Host. I know my remedy; I must go fetch the third-borough. [Exit. Sly. Third, or fourth, or fifth borough, I'll answer him by law: I'll not budge an inch, boy: let him come, and kindly. [Falls asleep. Horns winded. Enter a Lord from hunting, with his train. Lord. Huntsman, I charge thee, tender well my hounds: +Brach Merriman, the poor cur is emboss'd; And couple Clowder with the deep-mouth'd brach. Saw'st thou not, boy, how Silver made it good At the hedge-corner, in the coldest fault? I would not lose the dog for twenty pound. First Hun. Why, Belman is as good as he, my lord; He cried upon it at the merest loss And twice to-day pick'd out the dullest scent: Trust me, I take him for the better dog. 20 Lord. Thou art a fool: if Echo were as fleet, I would esteem him worth a dozen such. But sup them well and look unto them all: To-morrow I intend to hunt again. First Hun. I will, my lord. 30 Lord. What's here? one dead, or drunk? See, doth he breathe? Sec. Hun. He breathes, my lord. Were he not warm'd with ale, This were a bed but cold to sleep so soundly. Lord. O monstrous beast! how like a swine he lies! Grim death, how foul and loathsome is thine image! A most delicious banquet by his bed, 4I Sec. Hun. It would seem strange unto him when he waked. Lord. Even as a flattering dream or worthless fancy. 50 Then take him up and manage well the jest: Some one be ready with a costly suit 60 First Hun. My lord, I warrant you we will play our part, As he shall think by our true diligence 70 70 Lord. Take him up gently and to bed with him; And each one to his office when he wakes. [Some bear out Sly. A trumpet sounds. Sirrah, go see what trumpet 'tis that sounds: [Exit Servingman. Belike, some noble gentleman that means, Travelling some journey, to repose him here. Re-enter Servingman. How now! who is it? Serv. Enter Players. 80 Now, fellows, you are welcome. Lord. With all my heart. This fellow I re- Since once he play'd a farmer's eldest son: A Player. I think 'twas Soto that your honour means. 90 Lord. 'Tis very true: thou didst it excellent. A Player. Fear not, my lord: we can contain Were he the veriest antic in the world. 100 Lord. Go, sirrah, take them to the buttery, An onion will do well for such a shift, 130 [Exit a Servingman. | When they do homage to this simple peasant. SCENE II. A bedchamber in the Lord's house. Sly. For God's sake, a pot of small ale. Sec. Serv. Will't please your honour taste of Third Serv. What raiment will your honour wear to day? Sly. I am Christophero Sly; call not me 'honour' nor lordship:' I ne'er drank sack in my life; and if you give me any conserves, give me conserves of beef: ne'er ask me what raiment I'll wear; for I have no more doublets than backs, no more stockings than legs, nor no more shoes than feet; nay, sometime more feet than shoes, or such shoes as my toes look through the overleather. Lord. Heaven cease this idle humour in your O, that a mighty man of such descent, Sly. What, would you make me mad? Am not I Christopher Sly, old Sly's son of Burtonheath, by birth a pedlar, by education a cardmaker, by transmutation a bear-herd, and now by present profession a tinker? Ask Marian Hacket, the fat ale-wife of Wincot, if she know me not if she say I am not fourteen pence on the score for sheer ale, score me up for the lyingest knave in Christendom. What! I am not be110 straught: here's And call him 'madam,' do him obeisance. And with declining head into his bosom, 120 Third Serv. O, this it is that makes your lady mourn! Sec. Serv. O, this is it that makes your servants droop! Lord. Hence comes it that your kindred shuns your house, 30 As beaten hence by your strange lunacy. And twenty caged nightingales do sing: |