Enter WILLIAM. Touch. It is meat and drink to me to see a clown; by my troth, we that have good wits, have much to answer for; we shall be flouting; we cannot hold. Will. Good even, Audrey. Aud. God ye good even, William. Touch. Good even, gentle friend: cover thy head, cover thy head; nay, pr'y thee, be cover'd. How old are you, friend? Will. Five and twenty, Sir. Touch. A ripe age: Is thy name, William ? Touch. A fair name: wast born i'the forest here? Touch. Thank God;—a good answer: Art rich? Will. 'Faith, Sir, so, so. Touch. So, so, is good, very good, very excellent good:-And yet it is not; it is but so so. Art thou wise? Will. Ay, Sir, I have a pretty wit. Touch. Why, thou say 'st well. I do now remember a saying; The jool doth think he is wise, but the wise man knows himself to be a fool. The heathen philosopher, when he had a desire to eat a grape, would open his lips when he put it into his mouth; meaning thereby, that grapes were made to eat, and lips to open. You do love this maid? Will. I do, Sir. Touch. Give me your hand: Art thou learned? Will. No, Sir. Touch. Then learn this of me; to have, is to have: for it is a figure in rhetoric, that drink being pour'd out of a cup into a glass, by filling the one doth empty the other: for all your writers do consent, that ipse is he; now you are not ipse, for I am he. Will. Which he, Sir? Touch. He, Sir, that must marry this woman: therefore, you clown, abandon,-which is in the vulgar, leave, the society,-which in the boorish is, company,-of this female,-which in the common is, woman, which together is, abandon the Society of this female; or, clown thou perisnest; or to thy better understanding, diest; to wit, I kill thee, make thee away, translate thy life into death, thy liberty into bondage: I will deal in poison with thee, or in bastinado, or in steel; I will Landy with thee in faction; I will o'er-run thee with policy; 1 will kill thee a hundred and fifty ways; therefore tremble, and depart. Sir. Aud. Do, good William. [Exit. Cor. Our master and mistress seek you; come, away, away. Touch. Trip, Audrey, trip, Audrey ;-I attend, I attend. SCENE II.-The same. Enter ORLANDO and OLIVER. [Exeunt. Orl. Is't possible, that on so little acquaintance you should ke her? That, but seeing, you should love her? And, loving, woo? And, wooing, sire should grant? And will you persever to enjoy her? Olt. 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 ta ther's house, and all the revenue that was old Sir Rowland's, will I estate upou you, and here live and die a shepherd. Enter ROSALIND. Orl. You have my consent. Let your wedding be to-morrow: thither will I invite the duke, and all his contented followers: go you, and prepare Aliena; for, look you, here comes my Rosalind. Ros. God save you, brother. Oli. And you, fail sister. Ros. O, my dear Orlando, how it grieves me to see thee wear thy heart in a scarf. Orl. It is my arm. Ros. I thought, thy he rt had been wounded with the claws of a lion. Orl. Wounded it is, but with the eyes of a lady. Bos. Did your brother tell you how I counter. Orl. Ay, and greater wonders than that. Ros. O, I know where you are:-Nay, 'tis true: there was never any thing so sudden, but the fight of two rams, and Cæsar's thrasonical brag oi-I came, saw, and overcame: for your brother and my sister no sooner met, but they look'd; no sooner look'd, but they loved; no sooner loved, but they sigh'd; no sooner sigh'd, but they ask'd 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 mariag, 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. Ort. 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 throught another man's eyes! By so much the more shall I to-morrow be at the height of heart-heaviness, by how much I shall think my brother happy, in having what he wishes for. Ros. Why, then, to-morrow I cannot serve your turn for Rosalind? Orl. I can live no longer by thinking. Ros.. I will weary you no longer then with idle talking. Know of me then, (for now I speak to some purpose,) that I know you are a gentleman of good conceit: I speak not this, that you should bear a good opinion of my nowledge, 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 mе. Believe then, if you please, that I can do strange things: I have, since i was three years old, conversed with a magician, most profound in this art, and yet not damnable. It 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, it it appear not inconvement to you, to set her letore your eyes to-morrow, human as she is, and without any danger. Orl. Speak'st thou in sober meanings? Ros. By my life I do; which 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 her's. Phe.. Youth, you have done me much ungentle ness, To shew the letter that I writ to you. Ros. I care not, if I have: it is my study, To seem despiteful and ungentle to you: You are there follow'n by a faithful shepherd; Look upon him, love him; he worships you. Phe. Good shepherd, tell this youth what 'tis to love. Sil. It is to be all made of sighs and tears ;~. Phe. And I for Ganymede. Sil. It is to be all made of faith and service ;And so am I for Phebe. Phe. And I for Ganymede. Sil. It is to be all made of fantasy, And so am I for Phebe. Phe. And so am I for Ganymede. Phe. If this be so, why blame you me to love Orl. If this be so, why blame you me to love you? • Invite Ros, Who do you speak to, why blame you me to love you? 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.-I will help you, [To Silvius] if I can :-I would love you, [To Phebe] if I could.-To-morrow meet me all together. I will marry you, [To Phebe] if ever I marry woman, and I'll be married to-morrow:-I will satisfy you, [To Orlando] if ever I satisfied man, and you shall be married to-morrow :-I will content you, [To Silvius] if what pleases you contents you, and you shall be married to-morrow. As you [To Orlando] love Rosalind, meet;—As you [To Silvius] love Phebe, meet; and as I love no woman, I'll meet.-So, fare you well; I have left you commands. Sil. I'll not fail, if I live. Orl. Nor I. SCENE III.-The same. Enter TOUCHSTONE and AUDREY. [Exeunt. Touch. To-morrow is the joyful day, Audrey; tomorrow will we be married. Aud. I do desire it with all my heart: and I hope it is no dishonest desire, to desire to be a woman of the world. Here comes two of the banish'd duke's pages. Enter two PAGES. 1 Page. Well met, honest gentleman. You say, If I bring in your Rosalind, [To the Duke. Duke S. That would I, had I kingdoms to give with her. Ros. And you say, you will have her, when [To Orlando. bring her? Orl. That would I, were I of all kingdoms king. Ros. You say, you'll marry me, it I be willing. [To Phebe. 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 ! [To Silvius. 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 daugh ter; You To make these doubts all even. [Exeunt Rosalind and Celia. Touch. By my troth, well met: come, sit, sit, and Of many desperate studies by his uncie, a song. 2 Page. We are for you: sit i' the middle. 1 Page. Shall we clap into 't roundly, without hawking, or spitting, or saying we are hoarse; which are the only prologues to a bad voice? 2 Page. I' faith, i' faith; and both in a tune, like two gypsies on a horse. And therefore take the present time, With a hey, and a ho, and a hey nonino; Touch. Truly, young gentleman, though there was no great matter in the ditty, yet the note was very untuneable. 1 Page. You are deceived, Sır; we kept time, we lost not our time. Touch. By my troth, yes; I count it but time lost to hear such a foolish song. God be with you; and God mend your voices!-Come, Audrey. [Exeunt. SCENE IV.-Another part of the Forest. Enter DUKE senior, AMIENS, JAQUES, ORLANDO, OLIVER, and CELIA. Duke S. Dost thou believe, Oriando, that the boy Can do all this that he hath promised? Orl. I sometimes do believe, and sometimes do As those that fear they hope, and know they fear. A married woman. Whom he reports to be a great magician, Enter TOUCHSTONE and AUDREY. Jaq. There is, sure, another flood toward, and these couples are coming to the ark! Here comes a pair of very strange beasts, which in all tongues are call'd fools. Touch. Salutation and greeting to you all! Jaq. Good my lord, bid him welcome; this is the motley-minded gentleman, that I have so often met in the forest: he hath been a courtier, he swears. Touch. If any man doubt that, let him put me to my purgation. I have trod a measure; I have flatter'd 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. Jaq. And how was that ta'en up? Touch. 'Faith, we met, and found the quarrel was upon the seventh cause. Jaq. How seventh cause ?-Good my lord, like this fellow. Duke S. I like him very well. Touch. God'ild you, Sir; I desire you of the like. I press in here, Sir, amongst the rest of the coun try copulatives, to swear, and to forswear; according as marriage binds, and blood breaks :-A poor virgin, Sir, an ill-favour'd 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 sen téntious. 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? Touch. Upon a lie seven times removed ;-Bear your body more seeming +, Audrey :-As thus, Sir. I did dislike the cut of a certain courtier's beard; he sent me word, if I said his beard was not cut well, he was in the mind it was: this is called the Retort courteous. If I sent him word again, it was not well cut, he would send me word, he cut it to please himself: this is called the Quip modest. It again, it was not well cut, he disabled my judg ment: this is cali'd the Reply churlish. If again, it was not well cut, he would answer, I spake not true: this is call'd the Reproof valiant. If again, it was not well cut, he would say, I lie: this is 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 cir- cumstantial, 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 30; and they shook hands, and swore brothers. Your If is the only peace maker; much virtue in If Jaq. Is not this a rare fellow, my lord? He's as good at any thing, and yet a fool. Duke S. He uses his folly like a stalking horse, and under the presentation of that, he shoots his wit. Enter HYMEN, leading ROSALIND in Womun's Clothes; and CELIA. Still Music. Hym. Then is there mirth in heaven, Good Duke, receive thy daughter, Yea, brought her hither : That thou might'st join her hand with his, Whose heart within her bosom is. Ros. To you I give myself, for I am yours. [To Duke S. To you I give myself, for I am yours. [To Orlando. Duke S. If there be truth in sight, you are my daughter. Enter JAQUES DE BOIS. Jaq. de B. Let me have audience for a word, or two; That bring these tidings to this fair assembly: Duke S. Welcome, young man ; To one, his lands with-held; and to the other, Play, music;-and you brides and bridegrooms all, And thrown into neglect the pompous court? Jaq. To him will I: out of these convertites There is much matter to be heard and learn'd.You to your former honour I bequeath; [To Duke S. Orl. If there be truth in sight, you are my Rosa-You [To Orlando] to a love, that your true fait! Your patience, and your virtue, well deserves it: lind. You and you are heart in heart: [To Oliver and Celia. You [To Phebe] to his love must accord, Or have a woman to your lord :You and you are sure together, doth merit: Ros. It is not the fashion to see the lady the epi logue: but it is no more unhandsome, than to see the lord the prologue. If it be true, that good wine [To Touchstone and Audrey. needs no bush, 'tis true, that a good play needs no 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, 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 furnish'd like a beggar, therefore to beg will not become me: my way is, to conjure you; and I'll begin with the women. I charge you, O women, for the love you bear to men, to like as much of this play as please them: and so I charge you, O men, for the love you bear to women, (as I perceive by your simpering, none of you hate them,) that between you and the women, the play may please. If I were a woman, I would kiss as many of you as had beards that pleased me, complexions that liked me, and breaths that I defied not: ard, I am sure, as many as have good beards, or good faces, or sweet breaths, will, for my kind offer, when I make curt'sy, bid me farewell. [Exeunt. • Dressed. ACT I. SCENE I.-Rousillon.-A Room in the COUNTESS'S Enter BERTRAM, the Countess of ROUSILLON, HE Ber. And I, in going, madam, weep o'er my father's death anew: but I must attend his majesty's command, to whom I am now in ward*, evermore in subjection. Laf. You shall find of the king a husband, madam;-You, Sir, a father: he that so generally is at all times good, must of necessity hold his vir tue to you: whose worthiness would stir it up where it wanted, rather than lack it where there is such abundance. Count. What hope is there of his majesty's amendment? Laf. He hath abandon'd his physicians, madam: under whose practices he hath persecuted time with hope; and finds no other advantage in the process but only the losing of hope by time. Count. This young gentlewoman had a father, (0, that had+! how sad a passage 'tis) whose skill was almost as great as his honesty; had it stretch'd so far, would have made nature immortal, and death should have play for lack of work. 'Would, for the king's sake, he were living! I think, it would be the death of the king's disease. Laf. How called you the man you speak of, madam? Count. He was famous, Sir, in his profession, and it was his right to be so; Geiard de Narbon. Laj. He was excellent, indeed, madam; the king very lately spoke of him, admiringly, and mourningly: he was skilful enough to have lived still, if knowledge could be set up against mortality. Ber. What is it, my good lord, the king lan gnishes of? Luf. A fistula, my lord. Ber. I heard not of it before. Laf. I would, it were not notorions.-Was this gentlewoman the daughter of Gerard de Narbon? Count. His sole child, my lord; and bequeathed to my overlooking. I have those hopes of her good, that her education promises: her dispositions she inherits, which make fair gifts fairer; for where an unclean mud carries virtuous qualities, there commendations go with pity, they are virtues and traitors too; in her they are the better for their simpleness; she derives her honesty, and achieves her goodness. Under his particular care, as my guardian. + The countess recollects her own loss of a husband, and observes how heavily had passes through her mind. Qualities of good breeding and erudition, 9i.e. Her excellencies are better because they are rtless Laf. Your commendations, madam, get from her tears. Count. 'Tis the best brine a maiden can season her praise in. The remembrance of her father never approaches her heart, but the tyranny of her sorrows takes all livelihood from her cheek. Nɔ more of this, Helena, go to, no more; lest it be rather thought you affect a sorrow, than to have. Hel. I do affect a sorrow, indeed but I have it too. Laf. Moderate lamentation is the right of the dead, excessive grief the enemy to the living. Count. If the living be enemy to the grief, the excess makes it soon mortal. Ber. Madam, I desire your holy wishes Count. Be thou blest, Bertram! and succeed thy father In manners, as in shape! Thy blood, and virtue, Fall on thy head! Farewell.-My lord, Laf. He cannot want the best Count. Heaven bless him!-Farewell, Bertram. [Exit Countess. Ber. The best wishes, that can be forged in your thoughts, [To Helena] be servants to you ‡! Be comfortable to my mother, your mistress, and make much of her. Laf. Farewell, pretty lady: you must hold the credit of your father. [Exeunt Bertram and Lafeu. Hel. O, were that all!-I think not on my father, And these great tears grace his remembrance more Than those I shed for him. What was he like? I have forgot him: my imaginacion Carries no favour in it, but Bertram's.. I am undone; there is no living, none, If Bertram be away. It were all one, That I should love a bright particular star, And think to wed it, he is so above me : In his bright radiance and collateral light Must I be comforted, not in his sphere. The ambition in my love thus plagues itself: The hind, that would be mated by the lion. Must die for love. 'Twas pretty, though a plague, To see him every hour; to sit and draw His arched brows, his hawking eye, his curls, In our heart's table; heart, too capable One that goes with him: I love him for his sake; That they take place, when virtue's steely bones Por. Are you meditating on virginity? Hel. Ay. You have some stain of soldier in you; Jet me ask you a question: man is enemy to virgity; how may we barricado it against him? Par. Keep him out. Hl. But he assails; and our virginity, though valiant in the defence, yet is weak: unfold to us some warlike resistance. Par. There is none; man, sitting down before you, will undermine you, and blow you up. Hel. Bless our poor virginity from underminers, and blowers up!-Is there no military policy, how virgins might blow up men? I know not what he shall:-God send him well! Hel. That I wish well.-'Tis pity-- Hel. That wishing well had not a body in't, Par. Under Mars, I. Hel. I especially think, under Mars. Hel. The wars have so kept you under, that you must needs be born under Mars. Pur. When he was predominant. Hel. When he was retrograde, I think, rather. Hel. You go so much backward, when you fight, Hel. So is running away, when fear proposes the safety but the composition, that your valour and Pur. Virginity being blown down, man will quick-fear makes in you, is a virtue of a good wing, and lier be blown up: marry, in blowing him down I like the wear well. again, with the breach yourselves made, you lose your city. It is not politie in the commonwealth of nature, to preserve virginity. Loss of virginity is rational increase; and there was never virgin got, til virginity was first lost. That, you made of, is metal to make virgins. Virginity, by Leing once lost, may be ten times found: by being ever kept, it is ever lost: 'tis too cold a companion; away with it. were Hel. I will stand for't a little, though therefore I die a virgin. Par. I am so full of businesses, I cannot answer thee acutely: I will return perfect courtier; in the which, my instruction shall serve to naturalize thee, so thou wilt be capable of a courtier's counsel, and understand what advice shall thrust upon thee; else thou diest in thine unthankfulness, and thine ignorance makes thee away: farewell. When thou hast leisure, say prayers; when thou hast none, res member thy friends: get thee a good husband, and use him as he uses thee: so farewell. [Exit. Hel. Our remedies oft in ourselves do lie, Par. There's little can be said in't: 'tis against Which we ascribe to heaven: the fated sky the rule of nature. To speak on the part of virgi-Gives us free scope; only doth backward pull nity, is to accuse your mothers; which is most infal Our slow designs, when we ourselves are dull; lible disobedience. He, that hangs himself, is a What power is it, which mounts my love so high; virgin virginity murders itself; and should be That makes me see and cannot feed mine eye? buried in highways, out of all sanctified limit, as a The mightiest space in fortune nature brings desperate offendress against nature. Virginity breeds To joiu like likes, and kiss like native things. inites, much like a cheese; consumes itself to the Impossible be strange attempts to those very paring, and so dies with feeding his own That weigh their pains in sense; and do suppose, stomach. Besides, virginity is peevish, proud, idle, What hath been cannot be who ever strove made of self-love, which is the most inhibited § sm To shew her merit, that did miss her love? in the canon. Keep it not; you cannot choose but The king's disease-my project may deceive me, lose by't: out with't: within ten years it will make But my intents are fix'd, and will not leave me. itself ten, which is a goodly increase; and the principal itself not much the worse: away with't. Hl. How might one do, Sir, to lose it to her own liking? Par. Let me see: marry, ill, to like him that ne'er it likes. 'Tis a commodity will lose the gloss with lying; the longer kept, the less worth: off with't, while 'tis vendible: answer the time of request. Virginity, like an old courtier, wears her cap out of fashion; chly suited, but unsuitable: just like the brooch and toothpick, which were not now: your date is better in your pie and your porridge, than in your cheek: and your virginity, your old virginity, is like one of our French wither'd pears; it looks ill, it eats drily; marry, 'tis a wither'd pear; it was formerly better; marry, yet, 'tis a wither'd pear: Will you any thing with it? Hel. Not my virginity yet. There shall your master have a thousand loves, A phoenix, captain, and an enemy, Helena considers her heart as the tablet on 6 Forbidden. Countenance. A quibble on date, which means age, and can died fruit. [Exit. SCENE II.—Paris.—A Room in the KING's Palace. with Letters; Lords and others attending. 1 Lord. So 'tis reported, Sir. King. Nay, 'tis most credible; we here receives 1 Lord. His love and wisdom, King. He hath arm'd our answer, 2 Lord. It may well serve A nursery to our gentry, who are sick For breathing and exploit. King. What's he comes here? |