Duke S. Thou shalt have one.

Jaques. It is my only suit,*

Provided that you weed your better judgments
Of all opinion that grows rank in them
That I am wise. I must have liberty
Withal, as large a charter as the wind.
To blow on whom I please ; for so fools have ;
And they that are most galled with my folly.
They most must laugh. And why, sir, must they so ?

^ Moralize. 2 A French word meaning " without."

3 " Motley's the only wear," i.e., there is no dress like the fool's.

* A play upon the word is doubtless intended.



S.8 SHAKESPEARE. [ACT \1.

The " why " is plain as way to parish church :

He that a fool doth very wisely hit,

Doth very foolishly, although he smart,

But to seem senseless of the bob ;i if not,

The wise man's folly is anatomiz'd

Even by the squandering glances - of the fool.

Invest me in my motley j give me leave

To speak my mind, and I will through and through

Cleanse the foul body of the infected world.

If they will patiently receive my medicine.

Duke S. Fie on thee ! I can tell what thou wouldst do.

Jaques. What, for a counter,^ would I do but good ?

Duke S. Most mischievous foul sin, in chiding sin ;
For thou thyself hast been a libertine,
As sensual as the brutish sting itself ;
And all the embossed sores and headed evils.
That thou with license of free foot hast caught,
Wouldst thou disgorge into the general world.

Jaques. Why, who cries out on pride.
That can therein tax ^ any private party ?
Doth it not flow as hugely as the sea,
Till that the wearer's very means do ebb ?
What woman in the city do I name.
When that I say the city woman bears
The cost of princes on unworthy shoulders ?
Who can come in and say that I mean her.
When such a one as she, such is her neighbor ?
Or what is he of basest function,^
That says his bravery is not on my cost,''
Thinking that I mean him, but therein suits

1 Blow.

2 " Squandering glances," i.e., gibes scattered without special aim.

* " For a counter," i.e., on the wager of a counter. The counter was a
worthless coin, used only for calculations.

* Censure. 5 Occupation.

^ " His bravery," etc., i.e., his fine clothes are not at my expense.



SCENE vii.j AS YOU LIKE IT. 49

His folly to the mettle of my speech ?

There then ; how then ? what then ? Let me see wherein

My tongue hath wrong'd him. If it do him right,

Then he hath wrong'd himself ; if he be free,

Why then my taxing like a wild goose flies,

Unclaim'd of any man. — But who comes here ?

Enter Orlando, ivitJi Jiis sword drawn.

Orlando. Forbear, and eat no more.

Jaques. ^Vhy, I have eat none yet.

Orlando. Nor shalt not, till necessity be serv'd.

Jaques. Of what kind should this cock come of ? ^

Duke S. Art thou thus bolden'd, man, by thy distress,
Or else a rude despiser of good manners.
That in civihty thou seem'st so empty ?

Orlando. You touch'd my vein at first ; the thorny point
Of bare distress hath ta'en from me the show
Of smooth civihty ; yet am I inland bred,-
And know some nurture.^ But forbear, I say!
He dies that touches any of this fruit
Till I and my aifairs are answered.

hiques. An you will not be answered with reason, I must
die.

Duke S. What would you have ? Your gentleness shal'
force
More than your force move us to gentleness.

Orlando. I almost die for food ; and let me have it.

Duke S. Sit down and feed, and welcome to our table.

Orlando. Speak you so gently ? Pardon me, I pray you ;
I thought that all things had been savage here,
And therefore put I on the countenance
Of stern commandment. But whate'er you are

' This repeating of the preposition is often met with in Shakespeare.

2 " Inland bred," i.e., not a rustic brought up on the frontier.

3 Good breeding.

4



50 SHAKESPEARE. Tact ii

That in this desert inaccessible,

Under the shade of melancholy boughs,

Lose and neglect the creeping hours of time ;

If ever j-ou have look'd on better days,

If ever been where bells have knoll'd to church,

If ever sat at any good man's feast,

If ever from your eyelids vi^ip'd a tear.

And know what 'tis to pity and be pitied, —

Let gentleness my strong enforcement be ;

In the which hope I blush, and hide my sword.

Duke S. True is it that we have seen better days,
And have with holy bell been knoll'd to church,
And sat at good men's feasts, and wip'd our eyes
Of drops that sacred pity hath engender'd ;
And therefore sit you down in gentleness.
And take upon command what help we have
That to your wanting may be minister'd. •

Orlando. Then but forbear your food a little while,
Whiles like a doe I go to find my fawn
And give it food. There is an old poor man.
Who after me hath many a weary step
Limp'd in pure love; till he be first sufific'd, —
Oppress'd with two weak evils,i age and hunger, —
I will not touch a bit.

Duke S. Go find him out,

And we will nothing waste till you return.

Orlando. I thank ye ; and be blest for your good comfort !

\Exit.

Duke S. Thou seest we are not all alone unhappy.
This wide and universal theater
Presents more woful pageants than the scene
Wherein we play in.

Jaques. All the world's a stage,

And all the men and women merely players

1 " Weak evils," i.e., evils causing weakness.



SCENE VII.] JS YOU LIKE IT. 5 1

They have their exits and their entrances ;

And one man in his time plays many parts,

His acts being seven ages. At first the infant,

Mewhng and puking in the nurse's arms.

And then the whining schoolboy, with his satchel

And shining morning face, creeping Hke snail

Unwillingly to school. And then the lover,

Sighing like furnace, with a woful ballad

Made to his mistress' eyebrow. Then a soldier,

Full of strange oaths and bearded like the pard;i

Jealous in honor, sudden and quick in quarrel,

Seeking the bubble reputation

Even in the cannon's mouth. And then the justice.

In fair round belly with good capon lin'd.

With eyes severe and beard of formal cut.

Full of wise saws and modern instances ;-

And so he plays his part. The sixth age shifts

Into the lean and slipper'd pantaloon,^^

With spectacles on nose and pouch on side.

His youthful hose, well sav'd, a world too wide

For his shrunk shank ; and his big manly voice,

Turning again toward childish treble, pipes

And whistles in his ^ sound. Last scene of all,

That ends this strange, eventful history.

Is second childishness and mere oblivion.

Sans teeth, sans eyes, sans taste, sans everything.

Reenter Orlando with Adam.

Duke S. Welcome. Set down your venerable burden,
And let him feed.

1 " Bearded like the pard," i.e., with long, pointed mustaches like the
leopard's feele.s.

'^ " Full of wise saws," etc., i.e., crammed with wise sayings and com-
monplace illustrations.

3 The name of a comic character in Italian plays.

* The pronoun " its " was riucly Ubcd in Shakespeare's day.



52 SHAKESPEARE. [act ii.

Orlando. I thank you most for him.

Adatn. So had you need ; —

I scarce can speak to thank you for myself.

Duke S. Welcome ; fall to. I will not trouble you,
As yet, to question you about your fortunes. —
Give us some music ; and, good cousin, sing.

Song.

Amiens. Blow, blow, thou winter wind,

Thou art not so unkind

As man''s ingratittide ;
Thy tooth is not so keen.
Because thou art not seen.
Although thy breath be rude.
Heigh-ho ! sing, heigh-ho / unto the green holly !
Most friendship is feigning, most loving mere folly j
Then, heigh-ho, the holly !
This life is most jolly.

Freeze, freeze, thou bitter sky,
That dost not bite so nigh

As betiefits forgot :
Though thou the waters warp.
Thy sting is not so sharp

As friend remember'' d not.^
Heigh-ho! sing, etc.

Duke S. If that you were the good Sir Rowland's son,
As you have whisper'd faithfully you were,
And as mine eye doth his effigies witness
Most truly limn'd and living in your face,
Be truly welcome hither. I am the Duke
That lov'd your father ; the residue of your fortune.
Go to my cave and tell me. — Good old man.
Thou art right welcome as thy master is. —
Support him by the arm. — Give me your hand.
And let me all your fortunes understand. \ Exeunt.

1 "As friend," etc., i.e., as what an unremembered friend feels.



scKNE II.] AS YOU LIKE IT, 53

ACT III.

Scene I. A Room in the Palace.

Enter Duke Frederick, Lords, and Oliver.

Duke F. Not see him since ? Sir, sir, that cannot be ;
But were I not the better part made mercy,
I should not seek ao absent argument ^
Of my revenge, thou present. But look to it :
Find out thy brother, w^heresoe'er he is ;
Seek him with candle ;2 bring him dead or living
Within this twelvemonth, or turn thou no more
To seek a living in our territory.
Thy lands and all things which thou dost call thine,
Worth seizure, do we seize into our hands,
Till thou canst quit thee by thy brother's mouth
Of what we think against thee.

Oliver. O that your highness knew my heart in this !
I never lov'd my brother in my life.

Duke F. More villain thou. — Well, push him out of doors;
And let my officers of such a nature
Make an extent ^ upon his house and lands.
Do this expediently ,4 and turn him going. \Exeunt.

Scene II. The Forest.

Enter Orlando, ivith a paper.

Orlando. Hang there, my verse, in witness of my love. —
And thou, thrice-crowned Queen of Night,^ survey

1 Object. 2 See Luke xv. 8.

3 " Make an extent," i.e., seize by writ of attachment.

* Expeditiously.

5 " Thrice-crowned Queen of Night," i.e., the moon ; known as Luna or
Cynthia in heaven, Hecate or Proserpina in the lower regions, and on earth
as Diana, who \vas also goddess of the chase and of chastity.



SHAKESPEARE. [act hi.

With thy chaste eye, from thy pale sphere above,
Thy huntress' name that my full life doth sway. —

O Rosalind ! these trees shall be my books,
And in their barks my thoughts I'll character ;i

That every eye which in this forest looks.
Shall see thy virtue witness'd everywhere. —

Run, run, Orlando ; carve on every tree

The fair, the chaste, and unexpressive ^ she. \Exit.



Enter Corin and Touchstone.

Corin. And how Hke you this shepherd's life. Master Touch-
stone ?

Touchstone. Truly, shepherd, in respect of itself, it is a good
life ; but in respect that it is a shepherd's life, it is naught.^ In
respect that it is solitary, I like it very well ; but in respect that
it is private, it is a very vile hfe. Now, in respect it is in the
fields, it pleaseth me well ; but in respect it is not in the court,
it is tedious. As it is a spare life, look you, it fits my humor
well ; but as there is no more plenty in it, it goes much against
my stomach. Hast any philosophy in thee, shepherd ?

Corin. No more but that I know the more one sickens the
worse at ease he is, and that he that wants money, means, and
content is without three good friends ; that the property of rain
is to wet, and fire to bum ; that good pasture makes fat sheep,
and that a great cause of the night is lack of the sun ; that he
that hath learned no wit by nature nor art may complain of good
breeding * or comes of a very dull kindred.

Touchstone. Such a one is a natural philosopher. — Wast ever
in court, shepherd ?

Corin. No, truly.

Touchstone. Then thou art damn'd.

Corin. Nay, I hope.

1 Carve. 2 Inexpressible. 3 gee Note 2, p. 22.

^ " Complain," etc., i.e., complain of not having been well lirought up.



SCENE II.] AS YOU LIKE IT. 55

Touchstone. Truly, thou art damn'd, like an ill-roasted egg all
on one side.

Corin. ¥ox not being at court ? Your reason.

Touchstone. Why, if thou never wast at court, thou never
saw'st good manners ; if thou never saw'st good manners, then
thy manners must be wicked ; and wickedness is sin, and sin is
damnation. Thou art in a parlous ^ state, shepherd.

Corin. Not a whit. Touchstone ; those that are good manners
at the court are as ridiculous in the country as the behavior of
the country is most mockable at the court. You told me you
salute not at the court but you kiss - your hands ; that courtesy
would be uncleanly if courtiers were shepherds.

Touchstone. Instance,-' briefly ; come, instance.

Corin. Why, we are still ^ handling our ewes, and their fells,-''
you know, are greasy.

Touchstone. Why, do not your courtier's hands sweat ? and is
not the grease of a mutton as wholesome as the sweat of a man ?
Shallow, shallow. A better instance, I say ; come.

Corin. Besides, our hands are hard.

Touchstone. Your lips will feel them the sooner. Shallow
again. A more sounder^ instance, come.

Corin. And they are often tarr'd over with the surgery of our
sheep ; and would you have us kiss tar ? The courtier's hands
are perfum'd with civet."

Touchstone. Most shallow man ! thou worms'-meat, in respect of
a good piece of flesh indeed! Learn of the wise, and perpend :'''
civet is of a baser birth than tar. Mend the instance, shepherd.

Corin. You have too courtly a wit for me ; I'll rest.

Touchstone. Wilt thou rest damn'd ? God help thee, shallow
man ! God make incision in thee ! ^ thou art raw.

Corin. Sir, I am a true laborer. I earn that I eat, get that I

1 Perilous. 2 " gut you kiss," i.e., without kissing.

3 Give an example ; prove it. * Continually. 5 Skins.

* Double comparatives are used by all l-lli/abcthan writers.

'^ A perfume derived from the civet cat. 8 Consider.

9 Alluding to the old practice of bloodletting as a cure for most diseases.



56 SHAKESPEARE. [act hi.

wear ; owe no man hate, envy no man's happiness ; glad of other
men's good, content with my harm;^ and the greatest of my
pride is to see my ewes graze and my lambs suck. Here comes
young Master Ganymede, my new mistress's brother.

Enter Rosalind, 7vith a paper, reading.

Rosalind. From the east to western Indy

No jewel is like Rosalind.
Her ivort/i, being nioutited on the -wind,
Through all the world bears Rosalitid.
All the pictures fairest lin'd
Are but black to Rosalind.
Let no face be kept in mind
But the fair of Rosalind.

Touchstone. I'll rhyme you so eight years together, dinners
and suppers and sleeping hours excepted ; it is the right butter-
women's rank 2 to market.

Rosalind. Out, fool !

Touchstone. For a taste :

If a hart do lack a hind,

Let him seek out Rosalind.

If the cat will after kind,

So be sure will Rosalind.

Winter garments must be liti'd.

So must slender Rosalind.

They that reap tnust sheaf and bind;

Then to cart with Rosalind.

Sweetest nut hath sourest rind,

Such a nut is Rosalind.

He that sweetest rose willfnd

Must find love's prick and Rosalind.

This is the very false gallop of verses ; why do you infect your-
self with them ?

1 "Content with my harm," i.e., bear my misfortunes patiently.
.2 "Going one after another at a jog trot."



SCENE II.] AS VOL' LIKE IT. 57

Rosalind. Peace, you dull fool I I found them on a tree.

Touchstone. Truly, the tree yields bad fruit.

Rosalind. I'll graff ^ it with you, and then I shall graff it with
a medlar;- then it will be the earliest fruit i' tlie country; for
you'll be rotten ere you be half ripe, and that's the right virtue
of the medlar.

Touchstone. You have said ; but whether wisely or no, let the
forest judge.

Enter Celia, ivith a iL'riting.

Rosalind. Peace !
Here comes my sister, reading. Stand aside.
Celia. \Reads\

Why should this a desert be?

For^ it is unpeopled ? A'o j
Tongues Pll hang on ei'er}' tree,

That shall civil^ayings * show.
Some, hcnu brief the life of man

Runs his erring "• pilgrimage,
That^ the stretching of a span

Buckles in his sum of age;
Some, of violated 7>iKi.'s

' Twixt the souls of friend and friend.
But upon the fairest boughs,

Or at e^'cry sentence end.
Will I Rosalinda write.

Teaching all that read to know
The quintessence of every sprite

Hea7'en would in little show.
Therefore Heaven Xature charged

That one body should be fill d
With all graces wide-enlarg'd.

Nature presently distill' d

1 Graft.

2 A small European tree, the fruit of which, like that of the American
persimmon, is not fit to be eaten till it is overripe.

3 Because. ^ " Civil sayings," i^e., sayings of civilized society.
5 Errant ; wandering. ^ So that.



58 SHAKESPEARE. [act hi.

Helen's ^ cheek, but not her heart ;

Cleopatra's'^ majesty ;
Atalanta's better part /^

Sad Lucretia^s * modesty.
Thus Rosalind of many parts

By heavenly synod luas devis'd,
Of many faces, eyes, and hearts,

To have the touches^ dearest priz' d.
Heaven would that she these gifts should have.
And I to live and die her slave.

Rosalind. O most gentle pulpiter ! what tedious homily of
love have you wearied your parishioners withal, and never cried,
" Have patience, good people "!

Celia. How now ! Back, friends ! — Shepherd, go off a little.
— Go with him, sirrah.

Touchstone. Come, shepherd, let us make an honorable re-
treat ; though not with bag and baggage, yet with scrip and
scrippage. [Exeunt Corin and Touchstone.

Celia. Didst thou hear these verses ?

1 Helen, according to classic mythology, was the daughter of Jupiter,
and the most beautiful woman of her time. Her treacherous desertion of
her husband, King Menelaus of Sparta, and her elopement with Paris, a
prince of Troy, occasioned the Trojan War, the theme of Homer's Iliad.

2 Cleopatra, the celebrated Egyptian queen, famed in history and fiction
for her beauty and mental perfections, and for the wonderful fascination of her
coquetry, died in 30 B.C., after a reign of twenty-four years.

3 "Atalanta's better part " was, probably, her graceful, well-proportioned
form. She was the daughter of a king of Scyros ; a great huntress, and very
swift-footed. She did not wish to marry, and, to free herself from the
importunities of her many admirers, proposed to run a race with them, the
winner to be her husband ; but if she reached the goal first her competitors
were to be put to death. She would easily have distanced them all but for a
stratagem devised, we are told, by Venus, goddess of beauty.

* Lucretia, a Roman lady, wife of Tarquinius Collatinus, having been
dishonored by Sextus Tarquinius, revealed to her husband and father the
indignities she had suffered, entreated them to avenge her wrongs, and then
stabbed herself with a dagger she had concealed on her person.

5 Features and traits of character.



SCENE 11.] AS YOU LIKE IT. 59

Rosalind. O yes, I heard them all, and more too; for some
of them had in them more feet than the verses would bear.

Celia. That's no matter; the feet might bear the verses.

Rosalind. Ay, but the feet were lame and could not bear
themselves without the verse, and therefore stood lamely in the
verse.

Celia. But didst thou hear without wondering how thy name
should be hang'd and carv'd upon these trees ?

Rosalind. I was seven of the nine days out of the wonder be-
fore you came ; for look here what I found on a palm tree. I
was never so berhym'd since Pythagoras' ^ time, that I was an
Irish rat,2 which I can hardly remember.

Celia. Trow you who hath done this ?

Rosalind. Is it a man ?

Celia. And a chain, that you once wore, about his neck.
Change you color ?

Rosalind. I prithee, who ?

Celia. O Lord, Lord ! it is a hard matter for friends to
meet ; but mountains may be remov'd with earthquakes, and so
encounter.

Rosalind. Nay, but who is it ?

Celia. Is it possible ?

Rosalind. Nay, I prithee now with most petitionary vehemence,
tell me who it is.

Celia. O wonderful, wonderful, and most wonderful wonderful !
and yet again wonderful, and after that, out of all whooping ! ^

Rosalind. Good my complexion ! dost thou think, though I
am caparison'd like a man, I have a doublet and hose in my dis-
position ? One inch of delay more is a South Sea of discovery ;
I prithee, tell me who is it quickly, and speak apace. I would

"^ A Greek philosopher, one of whose doctrines was the transmigration of
the soul into successive bodies, either human or animal.

2 " The belief that rats were rhymed to death in Ireland is frequently
alluded to by the old dramatists."

3 " Out of all whooping," i.e., past all exclamation.



6o SHAKESPEARE. [act in.

thou couldst stammer, that thou mightst pom: this conceal'd man
out of thy mouth, as wine comes out of a narrow-mouth'd bot-
tle, — either too much at once, or none at all. I prithee, take the
cork out of thy mouth, that I may drink thy tidings. Is he of
God's making ? What manner of man ? Is his head worth a
hat, or his chin worth a beard ?

Celia. Nay, he hath but a, httle beard.

Rosalitid. Why, God will send more, if the man will be thank-
ful. Let me stay ^ the growth of his beard, if thou delay me not
the knowledge of his chin.

Celia. It is young Orlando, that tripp'd up the wrestler's heels
and your heart both in an instant.

Rosalind. Nay, but the devil take mocking ; speak, sad brow
and true maid.-

Celia. V faith, coz, 'tis he.

Rosalind. Orlando ?

Celia. Orlando.

Rosalind. Alas the day ! what shall I do with my doublet and
hose ? — What did he when thou saw'st him ? What said he?
How look'd he ? Wherein went he ? ^ What makes he here ?
Did he ask for me ? Where remains he ? How parted he with
thee ? and when shalt thou see him again ? Answer me in one
word.

Celia. You must borrow me Gargantua's * mouth first ; 'tis a
word too great for any mouth of this age's size. To say "ay" and
"no" to these particulars is more than to answer in a catechism.

Rosalind. But doth he know that I am in this forest and in
man's apparel ? Looks he as freshly as he did the day he
wrestled ?

Celia. It is as easy to count atomies as to resolve the proposi-
tions of a lover ; but take a taste of my finding him, and relish it

1 " Let me stay," i.e., I am willing to wait.

2 " Sad brow," etc., i.e., without joking; in honest earnest.

3 " Wherein went he? " i.e., how was he dressed ?

4 A giant in one of Rabelais' satires, who swallows five pilgrims in a salad.



SCENE II.] AS YOU LIKE IT. 6i

with good observance. I found him under a tree, hke a dropp'd
acorn.

Rosalind. It may well be called Jove's tree,^ when it drops
forth such fruit.

Celia. Give me audience, good madam.

Rosalind. Proceed.

Celia. There lay he, stretched along, like a wounded knight.

Rosali?id. Though it be pity to see such a sight, it well be-
comes the ground.

Celia. Cry " holla " " to thy tongue, I prithee ; it ciu-vets unsea-
sonably. He was furnish'd like a hunter.

Rosalind. O, ominous ! he comes to kill my heart.

Celia. I would sing my song without a burden ; thou bring'st
me out of tune.

Rosalind. Do you not know I am a woman ? when I think, I
must speak. Sweet, say on.

Celia. You bring ^ me out. — Soft ! comes he not here ?

Enter Orlando and Jaques.

Rosalind. 'Tis he ! Slink by, and note him.

Jaques. I thank you for your company ; but, good faith, I
had as hef have been myself alone.

Orlando. And so had I ; but yet, for fashion's sake, I thank
you too for your society.

Jaques. God be wi' you ; let's meet as little as we can.

Orlando. I do desire we may be better strangers.

Jaques. I pray you, mar no more trees with writing love songs
in their barks.

Orlando. I pray you, mar no more of my verses with reading
them ill-favoredly.

Jaques. Rosalind is your love's name ?

Orlando. Yes, just.

Jaques. I do not like her name.

' The oak was sacred to Jove, or Jupiter.

8 An expression used in checking a horse. 3 Pq^^



62 SHAKESPEARE. [act hi.

Orlando. There was no thought of pleasing you when she was
christen'd.

Jaques. What stature is she of ?

Orlando. Just as high as my heart.

Jaqiies. You are full of pretty answers. Have you not been
acquainted with goldsmiths' wives, and conn'd them out of



rmgs



? 1



Orlando. Not so ; but I answer you right painted cloth,- from
whence you have studied your questions.

Jaques. You have a nimble wit ; I think 'twas made of Ata-
lanta's heels. Will you sit down with me ? and we two will rail
against our mistress the world and all our misery.

Orlando. I will chide no breather in the world but myself,
against whom I know most faults.

Jaques. The worst fault you have is to be in love.

Orlando. 'Tis a fault I will not change for your best virtue.
I am weary of you.

Jaques. By my troth, I w^as seeking for a fool when I found
you,

Orlando. He is drown'd in the brook ; look but in, and you
shall see him.

Jaqjies. There I shall see mine own figure.

Orlando. Which I take to be either a fool or a cipher.

Jaqties. I'll tarry no longer with you ; farewell, good Signior
Love.

Orlando. I am glad of your departure ; adieu, good Monsieur
Melancholy. \Exit Jaques.

Celia and Rosalind come forivard.