As you like it

ACT V

SCENE I. The forest.

Enter TOUCHSTONE and AUDREY

TOUCHSTONE

We shall find a time, Audrey, patience, gentle Audrey.

AUDREY

Faith, the priest was good enough, for all the old

gentleman's saying.

TOUCHSTONE

A most wicked Sir Oliver, Audrey, a most vile

Martext. But, Audrey, there is a youth here in the

forest lays claim to you.

AUDREY

Ay, I know who 'tis, he hath no interest in me in

the world: here comes the man you mean.

TOUCHSTONE

It is meat and drink to me to see a clown: by my

troth, we that have good wits have much to answer

for, we shall be flouting, we cannot hold.

Enter WILLIAM

WILLIAM

Good even, Audrey.

AUDREY

God ye good even, William.

WILLIAM

And good even to you, sir.

TOUCHSTONE

Good even, gentle friend. Cover thy head, cover thy

head, nay, prithee, be covered. How old are you, friend?

WILLIAM

Five and twenty, sir.

TOUCHSTONE

A ripe age. Is thy name William?

WILLIAM

William, sir.

TOUCHSTONE

A fair name. Wast born i' the forest here?

WILLIAM

Ay, sir, I thank God.

TOUCHSTONE

'Thank God,' a good answer. Art rich?

WILLIAM

Faith, sir, so so.

TOUCHSTONE

'So so' is good, very good, very excellent good, and

yet it is not, it is but so so. Art thou wise?

WILLIAM

Ay, sir, I have a pretty wit.

TOUCHSTONE

Why, thou sayest well. I do now remember a saying,

'The fool doth think he is wise, but the wise man

knows himself to be a fool.' The heathen

philosopher, when he had a desire to eat a grape,

would open his lips when he put it into his mouth,

meaning thereby that grapes were made to eat and

lips to open. You do love this maid?

WILLIAM

I do, sir.

TOUCHSTONE

Give me your hand. Art thou learned?

WILLIAM

No, sir.

TOUCHSTONE

Then learn this of me: to have, is to have, for it

is a figure in rhetoric that drink, being poured out

of a cup into a glass, by filling the one doth empty

the other, for all your writers do consent that ipse

is he: now, you are not ipse, for I am he.

WILLIAM

Which he, sir?

TOUCHSTONE

He, sir, that must marry this woman. Therefore, you

clown, abandon,--which is in the vulgar leave,--the

society,--which in the boorish is company,--of this

female,--which in the common is woman, which

together is, abandon the society of this female, or,

clown, thou perishest, or, to thy better

understanding, diest, or, to wit I kill thee, make

thee away, translate thy life into death, thy

liberty into bondage: I will deal in poison with

thee, or in bastinado, or in steel, I will bandy

with thee in faction, I will o'errun thee with

policy, I will kill thee a hundred and fifty ways:

therefore tremble and depart.

AUDREY

Do, good William.

WILLIAM

God rest you merry, sir.

Exit

Enter CORIN

CORIN

Our master and mistress seeks you, come, away, away!

TOUCHSTONE

Trip, Audrey! trip, Audrey! I attend, I attend.

Exeunt

SCENE II. The forest.

Enter ORLANDO and OLIVER

ORLANDO

Is't possible that on so little acquaintance you

should like her? that but seeing you should love

her? and loving woo? and, wooing, she should

grant? and will you persever to enjoy her?

OLIVER

Neither call the giddiness of it in question, the

poverty of her, the small acquaintance, my sudden

wooing, nor her sudden consenting, but say with me,

I love Aliena, say with her that she loves me,

consent with both that we may enjoy each other: it

shall be to your good, for my father's house and all

the revenue that was old Sir Rowland's will I

estate upon you, and here live and die a shepherd.

ORLANDO

You have my consent. Let your wedding be to-morrow:

thither will I invite the duke and all's contented

followers. Go you and prepare Aliena, for look

you, here comes my Rosalind.

Enter ROSALIND

ROSALIND

God save you, brother.

OLIVER

And you, fair sister.

Exit

ROSALIND

O, my dear Orlando, how it grieves me to see thee

wear thy heart in a scarf!

ORLANDO

It is my arm.

ROSALIND

I thought thy heart had been wounded with the claws

of a lion.

ORLANDO

Wounded it is, but with the eyes of a lady.

ROSALIND

Did your brother tell you how I counterfeited to

swoon when he showed me your handkerchief?

ORLANDO

Ay, and greater wonders than that.

ROSALIND

O, I know where you are: nay, 'tis true: there was

never any thing so sudden but the fight of two rams

and Caesar's thrasonical brag of 'I came, saw, and

overcame:' for your brother and my sister no sooner

met but they looked, no sooner looked but they

loved, no sooner loved but they sighed, no sooner

sighed but they asked one another the reason, no

sooner knew the reason but they sought the remedy,

and in these degrees have they made a pair of stairs

to marriage which they will climb incontinent, or

else be incontinent before marriage: they are in

the very wrath of love and they will together, clubs

cannot part them.

ORLANDO

They shall be married to-morrow, and I will bid the

duke to the nuptial. But, O, how bitter a thing it

is to look into happiness through another man's

eyes! By so much the more shall I to-morrow be at

the height of heart-heaviness, by how much I shall

think my brother happy in having what he wishes for.

ROSALIND

Why then, to-morrow I cannot serve your turn for Rosalind?

ORLANDO

I can live no longer by thinking.

ROSALIND

I will weary you then no longer with idle talking.

Know of me then, for now I speak to some purpose,

that I know you are a gentleman of good conceit: I

speak not this that you should bear a good opinion

of my knowledge, insomuch I say I know you are,

neither do I labour for a greater esteem than may in

some little measure draw a belief from you, to do

yourself good and not to grace me. Believe then, if

you please, that I can do strange things: I have,

since I was three year old, conversed with a

magician, most profound in his art and yet not

damnable. If you do love Rosalind so near the heart

as your gesture cries it out, when your brother

marries Aliena, shall you marry her: I know into

what straits of fortune she is driven, and it is

not impossible to me, if it appear not inconvenient

to you, to set her before your eyes tomorrow human

as she is and without any danger.

ORLANDO

Speakest thou in sober meanings?

ROSALIND

By my life, I do, which I tender dearly, though I

say I am a magician. Therefore, put you in your

best array: bid your friends, for if you will be

married to-morrow, you shall, and to Rosalind, if you will.

Enter SILVIUS and PHEBE

Look, here comes a lover of mine and a lover of hers.

PHEBE

Youth, you have done me much ungentleness,

To show the letter that I writ to you.

ROSALIND

I care not if I have: it is my study

To seem despiteful and ungentle to you:

You are there followed by a faithful shepherd,

Look upon him, love him, he worships you.

PHEBE

Good shepherd, tell this youth what 'tis to love.

SILVIUS

It is to be all made of sighs and tears,

And so am I for Phebe.

PHEBE

And I for Ganymede.

ORLANDO

And I for Rosalind.

ROSALIND

And I for no woman.

SILVIUS

It is to be all made of faith and service,

And so am I for Phebe.

PHEBE

And I for Ganymede.

ORLANDO

And I for Rosalind.

ROSALIND

And I for no woman.

SILVIUS

It is to be all made of fantasy,

All made of passion and all made of wishes,

All adoration, duty, and observance,

All humbleness, all patience and impatience,

All purity, all trial, all observance,

And so am I for Phebe.

PHEBE

And so am I for Ganymede.

ORLANDO

And so am I for Rosalind.

ROSALIND

And so am I for no woman.

PHEBE

If this be so, why blame you me to love you?

SILVIUS

If this be so, why blame you me to love you?

ORLANDO

If this be so, why blame you me to love you?

ROSALIND

Who do you speak to, 'Why blame you me to love you?'

ORLANDO

To her that is not here, nor doth not hear.

ROSALIND

Pray you, no more of this, 'tis like the howling

of Irish wolves against the moon.

To SILVIUS

I will help you, if I can:

To PHEBE

I would love you, if I could. To-morrow meet me all together.

To PHEBE

I will marry you, if ever I marry woman, and I'll be

married to-morrow:

To ORLANDO

I will satisfy you, if ever I satisfied man, and you

shall be married to-morrow:

To SILVIUS

I will content you, if what pleases you contents

you, and you shall be married to-morrow.

To ORLANDO

As you love Rosalind, meet:

To SILVIUS

as you love Phebe, meet: and as I love no woman,

I'll meet. So fare you well: I have left you commands.

SILVIUS

I'll not fail, if I live.

PHEBE

Nor I.

ORLANDO

Nor I.

Exeunt

SCENE III. The forest.

Enter TOUCHSTONE and AUDREY

TOUCHSTONE

To-morrow is the joyful day, Audrey, to-morrow will

we be married.

AUDREY

I do desire it with all my heart, and I hope it is

no dishonest desire to desire to be a woman of the

world. Here comes two of the banished duke's pages.

Enter two Pages

First Page

Well met, honest gentleman.

TOUCHSTONE

By my troth, well met. Come, sit, sit, and a song.

Second Page

We are for you: sit i' the middle.

First Page

Shall we clap into't roundly, without hawking or

spitting or saying we are hoarse, which are the only

prologues to a bad voice?

Second Page

I'faith, i'faith, and both in a tune, like two

gipsies on a horse.

SONG.

It was a lover and his lass,

With a hey, and a ho, and a hey nonino,

That o'er the green corn-field did pass

In the spring time, the only pretty ring time,

When birds do sing, hey ding a ding, ding:

Sweet lovers love the spring.

Between the acres of the rye,

With a hey, and a ho, and a hey nonino

These pretty country folks would lie,

In spring time, and c.

This carol they began that hour,

With a hey, and a ho, and a hey nonino,

How that a life was but a flower

In spring time, and c.

And therefore take the present time,

With a hey, and a ho, and a hey nonino,

For love is crowned with the prime

In spring time, and c.

TOUCHSTONE

Truly, young gentlemen, though there was no great

matter in the ditty, yet the note was very

untuneable.

First Page

You are deceived, sir: we kept time, we lost not our time.

TOUCHSTONE

By my troth, yes, I count it but time lost to hear

such a foolish song. God be wi' you, and God mend

your voices! Come, Audrey.

Exeunt

SCENE IV. The forest.

Enter DUKE SENIOR, AMIENS, JAQUES, ORLANDO, OLIVER, and CELIA

DUKE SENIOR

Dost thou believe, Orlando, that the boy

Can do all this that he hath promised?

ORLANDO

I sometimes do believe, and sometimes do not,

As those that fear they hope, and know they fear.

Enter ROSALIND, SILVIUS, and PHEBE

ROSALIND

Patience once more, whiles our compact is urged:

You say, if I bring in your Rosalind,

You will bestow her on Orlando here?

DUKE SENIOR

That would I, had I kingdoms to give with her.

ROSALIND

And you say, you will have her, when I bring her?

ORLANDO

That would I, were I of all kingdoms king.

ROSALIND

You say, you'll marry me, if I be willing?

PHEBE

That will I, should I die the hour after.

ROSALIND

But if you do refuse to marry me,

You'll give yourself to this most faithful shepherd?

PHEBE

So is the bargain.

ROSALIND

You say, that you'll have Phebe, if she will?

SILVIUS

Though to have her and death were both one thing.

ROSALIND

I have promised to make all this matter even.

Keep you your word, O duke, to give your daughter,

You yours, Orlando, to receive his daughter:

Keep your word, Phebe, that you'll marry me,

Or else refusing me, to wed this shepherd:

Keep your word, Silvius, that you'll marry her.

If she refuse me: and from hence I go,

To make these doubts all even.

Exeunt ROSALIND and CELIA

DUKE SENIOR

I do remember in this shepherd boy

Some lively touches of my daughter's favour.

ORLANDO

My lord, the first time that I ever saw him

Methought he was a brother to your daughter:

But, my good lord, this boy is forest-born,

And hath been tutor'd in the rudiments

Of many desperate studies by his uncle,

Whom he reports to be a great magician,

Obscured in the circle of this forest.

Enter TOUCHSTONE and AUDREY

JAQUES

There is, sure, another flood toward, and these

couples are coming to the ark. Here comes a pair of

very strange beasts, which in all tongues are called fools.

TOUCHSTONE

Salutation and greeting to you all!

JAQUES

Good my lord, bid him welcome: this is the

motley-minded gentleman that I have so often met in

the forest: he hath been a courtier, he swears.

TOUCHSTONE

If any man doubt that, let him put me to my

purgation. I have trod a measure, I have flattered

a lady, I have been politic with my friend, smooth

with mine enemy, I have undone three tailors, I have

had four quarrels, and like to have fought one.

JAQUES

And how was that ta'en up?

TOUCHSTONE

Faith, we met, and found the quarrel was upon the

seventh cause.

JAQUES

How seventh cause? Good my lord, like this fellow.

DUKE SENIOR

I like him very well.

TOUCHSTONE

God 'ild you, sir, I desire you of the like. I

press in here, sir, amongst the rest of the country

copulatives, to swear and to forswear: according as

marriage binds and blood breaks: a poor virgin,

sir, an ill-favoured thing, sir, but mine own, a poor

humour of mine, sir, to take that that no man else

will: rich honesty dwells like a miser, sir, in a

poor house, as your pearl in your foul oyster.

DUKE SENIOR

By my faith, he is very swift and sententious.

TOUCHSTONE

According to the fool's bolt, sir, and such dulcet diseases.

JAQUES

But, for the seventh cause, how did you find the

quarrel on the seventh cause?

TOUCHSTONE

Upon a lie seven times removed:--bear your body more

seeming, Audrey:--as thus, sir. I did dislike the

cut of a certain courtier's beard: he sent me word,

if I said his beard was not cut well, he was in the

mind it was: this is called the Retort Courteous.

If I sent him word again 'it was not well cut,' he

would send me word, he cut it to please himself:

this is called the Quip Modest. If again 'it was

not well cut,' he disabled my judgment: this is

called the Reply Churlish. If again 'it was not

well cut,' he would answer, I spake not true: this

is called the Reproof Valiant. If again 'it was not

well cut,' he would say I lied: this is called the

Counter-cheque Quarrelsome: and so to the Lie

Circumstantial and the Lie Direct.

JAQUES

And how oft did you say his beard was not well cut?

TOUCHSTONE

I durst go no further than the Lie Circumstantial,

nor he durst not give me the Lie Direct, and so we

measured swords and parted.

JAQUES

Can you nominate in order now the degrees of the lie?

TOUCHSTONE

O sir, we quarrel in print, by the book, as you have

books for good manners: I will name you the degrees.

The first, the Retort Courteous, the second, the

Quip Modest, the third, the Reply Churlish, the

fourth, the Reproof Valiant, the fifth, the

Countercheque Quarrelsome, the sixth, the Lie with

Circumstance, the seventh, the Lie Direct. All

these you may avoid but the Lie Direct, and you may

avoid that too, with an If. I knew when seven

justices could not take up a quarrel, but when the

parties were met themselves, one of them thought but

of an If, as, 'If you said so, then I said so,' and

they shook hands and swore brothers. Your If is the

only peacemaker, much virtue in If.

JAQUES

Is not this a rare fellow, my lord? he's as good at

any thing and yet a fool.

DUKE SENIOR

He uses his folly like a stalking-horse and under

the presentation of that he shoots his wit.

Enter HYMEN, ROSALIND, and CELIA

Still Music

HYMEN

Then is there mirth in heaven,

When earthly things made even

Atone together.

Good duke, receive thy daughter

Hymen from heaven brought her,

Yea, brought her hither,

That thou mightst join her hand with his

Whose heart within his bosom is.

ROSALIND

[To DUKE SENIOR] To you I give myself, for I am yours.

To ORLANDO

To you I give myself, for I am yours.

DUKE SENIOR

If there be truth in sight, you are my daughter.

ORLANDO

If there be truth in sight, you are my Rosalind.

PHEBE

If sight and shape be true,

Why then, my love adieu!

ROSALIND

I'll have no father, if you be not he:

I'll have no husband, if you be not he:

Nor ne'er wed woman, if you be not she.

HYMEN

Peace, ho! I bar confusion:

'Tis I must make conclusion

Of these most strange events:

Here's eight that must take hands

To join in Hymen's bands,

If truth holds true contents.

You and you no cross shall part:

You and you are heart in heart

You to his love must accord,

Or have a woman to your lord:

You and you are sure together,

As the winter to foul weather.

Whiles a wedlock-hymn we sing,

Feed yourselves with questioning,

That reason wonder may diminish,

How thus we met, and these things finish.

SONG.

Wedding is great Juno's crown:

O blessed bond of board and bed!

'Tis Hymen peoples every town,

High wedlock then be honoured:

Honour, high honour and renown,

To Hymen, god of every town!

DUKE SENIOR

O my dear niece, welcome thou art to me!

Even daughter, welcome, in no less degree.

PHEBE

I will not eat my word, now thou art mine,

Thy faith my fancy to thee doth combine.

Enter JAQUES DE BOYS

JAQUES DE BOYS

Let me have audience for a word or two:

I am the second son of old Sir Rowland,

That bring these tidings to this fair assembly.

Duke Frederick, hearing how that every day

Men of great worth resorted to this forest,

Address'd a mighty power, which were on foot,

In his own conduct, purposely to take

His brother here and put him to the sword:

And to the skirts of this wild wood he came,

Where meeting with an old religious man,

After some question with him, was converted

Both from his enterprise and from the world,

His crown bequeathing to his banish'd brother,

And all their lands restored to them again

That were with him exiled. This to be true,

I do engage my life.

DUKE SENIOR

Welcome, young man,

Thou offer'st fairly to thy brothers' wedding:

To one his lands withheld, and to the other

A land itself at large, a potent dukedom.

First, in this forest, let us do those ends

That here were well begun and well begot:

And after, every of this happy number

That have endured shrewd days and nights with us

Shall share the good of our returned fortune,

According to the measure of their states.

Meantime, forget this new-fall'n dignity

And fall into our rustic revelry.

Play, music! And you, brides and bridegrooms all,

With measure heap'd in joy, to the measures fall.

JAQUES

Sir, by your patience. If I heard you rightly,

The duke hath put on a religious life

And thrown into neglect the pompous court?

JAQUES DE BOYS

He hath.

JAQUES

To him will I : out of these convertites

There is much matter to be heard and learn'd.

To DUKE SENIOR

You to your former honour I bequeath,

Your patience and your virtue well deserves it:

To ORLANDO

You to a love that your true faith doth merit:

To OLIVER

You to your land and love and great allies:

To SILVIUS

You to a long and well-deserved bed:

To TOUCHSTONE

And you to wrangling, for thy loving voyage

Is but for two months victuall'd. So, to your pleasures:

I am for other than for dancing measures.

DUKE SENIOR

Stay, Jaques, stay.

JAQUES

To see no pastime I what you would have

I'll stay to know at your abandon'd cave.

Exit

DUKE SENIOR

Proceed, proceed: we will begin these rites,

As we do trust they'll end, in true delights.

A dance

EPILOGUE

ROSALIND

It is not the fashion to see the lady the epilogue,

but it is no more unhandsome than to see the lord

the prologue. If it be true that good wine needs

no bush, 'tis true that a good play needs no

epilogue, yet to good wine they do use good bushes,

and good plays prove the better by the help of good

epilogues. What a case am I in then, that am

neither a good epilogue nor cannot insinuate with

you in the behalf of a good play! I am not

furnished like a beggar, therefore to beg will not

become me: my way is to conjure you, and I'll begin

with the women. I charge you, O women, for the love

you bear to men, to like as much of this play as

please you: and I charge you, O men, for the love

you bear to women--as I perceive by your simpering,

none of you hates them--that between you and the

women the play may please. If I were a woman I

would kiss as many of you as had beards that pleased

me, complexions that liked me and breaths that I

defied not: and, I am sure, as many as have good

beards or good faces or sweet breaths will, for my

kind offer, when I make curtsy, bid me farewell.

Exeunt