warrant him heart-whole.
Orlando. Pardon me, dear Rosahnd.
Rosalind. Nay, an you be so tardy, come no more in my
sight. I had as lief be woo'd of a snail.
Orlando. Of a snail ?
Rosalind. Ay, of a snail ; for though he comes slowly, he car-
ries his house on his head, ā a better jointure,^ I think, than you
can make a woman. Come, woo me, woo me, for now I am
in a hoHday humor and like enough to consent. What would
you say to me now, an I were your ver}', ver\' Rosalind ?
Orlando. I would kiss before I spoke.
Rosalind. Nay, you were better speak first, and when you
were graveled 2 for lack of matter, you might take occasion to
kiss. Very good orators, when they are out, they will spit ; and
for lovers lacking ā God warn us! ā matter, the cleanhest shift
is to kiss.
Orlando. How if the kiss be denied ?
Rosalind. Then she puts you to entreaty, and there begins
new matter.
Orlando. Who could be out, being before his beloved mistress ?
the gondola, the Venetian pleasure boat, serves the purpose of the cab or
omnibus of other cities. In the sixteenth century Venice, being one of the
gayest and most attractive capitals of Europe, was a great resort of travelers ;
and one who had never visited that city ā never " swam in a gondola" ā was
hardly counted a traveler at all.
1 "The settlement of property made at marriage on the wife, in case of
her husband dying before lier."
- Run aground, figuratively.
78 SHAKESPEARE. [act iv.
Rosalind. Marry, that should you, if I were your mistress, or
I should think my honesty ranker than my wit.
Orlando. What, of my suit ?
Rosalind. Not out of your apparel, and yet out of your suit.
Am not I your Rosahnd ?
Orlando. I take some joy to say you are, because I would be
talking of her.
Rosalind. Well, in her person I say I will not have you.
Orlando. Then in mine own person I die.
Rosalitid. No, faith, die by attorney.^ The poor world is al-
most six thousand years old, and in all this time there was not
any man died in his own person, videlicet,- in a love cause.
Troilus ^ had his brains dash'd out with a Grecian club ; yet he
did what he could to die before, and he is one of the patterns
of love. Leander, he would have liv'd many a fair year, though
Hero had turn'd nun, if it had not been for a hot midsummer
night ; for, good youth, he went but forth to wash him in the
Hellespont, and being taken with the cramp, was drown'd ; and
the foolish chroniclers of that age found it was " Hero of Sestos." ^
But these are all lies ; men have died from time to time, and
worms have eaten them, but not for love.
Orlando. I would not have my right Rosalind of this mind,
for, I protest, her frown might kill me.
Rosalind. By this hand, it will not kill a fly. But come, now
1 Substitute.
2 Namely ; usually abbreviated to viz.
3 A son of Priam, King of Troy, who was killed by Achilles during the
Trojan War. The story of his love for Cressida, his faith and her perfidy, is
the subject of Shakespeare's tragedy of Troilus and Cressida.
* "Leander . . . Hero of Sestos." The story, the theme of many poets,
is familiar. Leander, a youth of Abydos, enamored of Hero, a priestess of
Venus at Sestos, nightly swam the Hellespont to meet her, she guiding his
course by a torchlight displayed from a high tower ; till on one wild and
stormy night the adventurous lover was drowned, and Hero in despair threw
herself into the sea and perished in the waves. (See Guerber's Myths of
Greece and Rome, pp. 1 1 1- 1 1 7. )
SCENE 1.] AS YOU LIKE IT. 79
1 will be your Rosalind in a more coming-on disposition, and
ask me what you will, I will grant it.
Orlando. Then love me, Rosalind.
Rosalind. Yes, faith, will I, Fridays and Saturdays and all.
Orlando. And wilt thou have me ?
Rosalijid. Ay, and twenty such.
Orlando. What sayest thou ?
Rosalind. Are you not good ?
Orlando. I hope so.
Rosalind. Why, then, can one desire too much of a good
thing ? ā Come, sister, you shall be the priest and marry us. ā
Give me your hand, Orlando. ā What do you .say, sister ?
Orlando. Pray thee, marry, us.
Celia. I cannot say the words.
Rosalind. You must begin, "Will you, Orlando," ā
Celia. Go to. ā Will you, Orlando, have to w^ife this Rosalind ?
Orlando. I will.
Rosalind. Ay, but when ?
Orlando. Why, now ; as fast as she can marry us.
Rosalind. Then you must say, " I take thee, Rosalind, for
wife."
Orlando. I take thee, Rosalind, for wife.
Rosalind. I might ask you for your commission ; i but ā I do
take thee, Orlando, for my husband. There's a girl goes before the
priest ; and certainly a woman's thought runs before her actions.
Orlando. So do all thoughts ; they are wing'd.
Rosalind. Now tell me how long you would have her aftei
you have possess'd her.
Orlando. For ever and a day.
Rosalind. Say "a day," without the "ever." No, no, Orlando ;
men are April when they woo, December when they wed ; maids
are May when they are maids, but the sky changes when they
are wives. I will be more jealous of thee than a Barbary cock
pigeon over his hen, more clamorous than a parrot against rain,
1 Warrant ; authority.
8o SHAKESPEARE. Uct iv.
more newfangled ^ than an ape, more giddy in my desires than a
monkey ; I will weep for nothing, like Diana in the fountain,^
and I will do that when you are dispos'd to be merry ; I will
laugh like a hyen,'^ and that when thou art inclin'd to sleep.
Orlatido. But will my Rosalind do so ?
Rosalind. By my life, she will do as I do.
Orlando. O, but she is w^'se.
Rosalind. Or else she could not have the wit to do this ; the
wiser, the waywarden Make^ the doors upon a woman's wit,
and it will out at the casement ; shut that, and 'twill out at the
keyhole ; stop that, 'twill fly with the smoke out at the chimney.
Orlando. For these two hours, Rosahnd, I will leave thee.
Rosalind. Alas ! dear love, I cannot lack thee two hours.
Orlando. I must attend the Duke at dinner ; by two o'clock I
will be with thee again.
Rosalind. Ay, go your ways, go your ways ; I knew what you
would prove. My friends told me as much, and I thought no
less. That flattering tongue of yours won me ; 'tis but one cast
away, and so, come, death ! ā Two o'clock is your hour?
Orlando. Ay, sweet Rosalind.
Rosalind. By my troth, and in good earnest, and so God mend
me, and by all pretty oaths that are not dangerous, if you break
one jot of your promise, or come one minute behind your hour, I
will think you the most pathetical ^ break-promise, and the most
hollow lover, and the most unworthy of her you call Rosalind,
that may be chosen out of the gross band of the unfaithful ;
therefore beware my censure and keep your promise.
Orlando. With no less religion than if thou wert indeed my
Rosalind. So, adieu !
Rosalind. Well, Time is the old justice that examines all such
offenders, and let Time try. Adieu. {Exit Orlando.
1 Changeable.
2 Images of Diana were, and are, frequent ornaments in fountains.
3 Hyena. The bark of this animal is not unlike a rude laugh.
* Close. 5 Canting ; used here in a ludicrous sense.
SCENE II.] AS YOU LIKE IT. 8l
Celia. You have simply misused our sex in your love prate.
Rosalind. O coz, coz, coz, my pretty little coz, that thou didst
know^ hovi^ many fathom deep I am in love ! But it cannot be
sounded ; my affection hath an unknown bottom, hke the bay of
Portugal. 1
Celia. Or rather, bottomless, that as fast as you pour affection
in, it rims out.
Rosalind. No, that same wicked bastard of Venus that was
begot of thought, conceived of spleen, and born of madness, ā that
blind, rascally boy that abuses every one's eyes because his own
are out, ā let him be judge how deep I am in love. I'll tell thee,
AHena, I cannot be out of the sight of Orlando ; I'll go find a
shadow," and sigh till he come.
Celia. And I'll sleep. \Exen7it.
Scene II. The Forest.
Enter Jaques, Lords, and Foresters.
Jaques. Which is he that killed the deer ?
A Lord. Sir, it was I.
Jaques. Let's present him to the Duke, like a Roman con-
queror ; and it would do well to set the deer's horns upon his
head, for a branch of victory. ā Have you no song, forester, for
this purpose ?
Forester. Yes, sir.
Jaques. Sing it ; 'tis no matter how it be in tune, so it make
noise enough.
Song.
Forester. What shall he have that kilVd the deer?
His leather skin and horns to wear.
Then sing him home j
[The rest shall bear this burden.
1 There is no such bay recognized by geographers ; but off the coast of
Portugal, near Oporto, the water is exceedingly deep, and at a distance of
twenty miles from shore attains a depth of eightv-five hundred feet.
2 Shady place.
6
82 SHAKESPEARE. [act iv.
Take thou no scorn to wear the horn j
It was a crest ere thou wast bom\
Thy father'' s father wore it,
And thy father bore it
The horn, the horn, the lusty horn,
Is not a thing to laugh to scorn. \Exeunt.
Scene III. The Forest.
Enter Rosalind and Celia.
Rosalind. How say you now ? Is it not past two o'clock ?
and here much Orlando !
Celia. I warrant you, with pure love and troubled brain, he
hath ta'en his bow and arrows and is gone forth ā to sleep. ā
Look who comes here.
Enter SiLVius.
Silvius. My errand is to you, fair youth.
My gentle Phebe bid me give you this. \GiviJig a letter.
I know not the contents' ; but, as I guess
By the stern brow and waspish action
Which she did use as she was writing of it,
It bears an angry tenor. Pardon me ;
I am but as a guiltless messenger.
Rosalind. Patience herself would startle at this letter,
And play the swaggerer ; bear this, bear all !
She says I am not fair, that I lack manners ;
She calls me proud, and that she could not love me
Were man as rare as phenix.^ 'Od's my will !
Her love is not the hare that I do hunt.
Why writes she so to me ? ā Well, shepherd, well.
This is a letter of your own device. 1
^ According to the old and familiar fable, this bird, after living five hun
dred years, destroys itself by fire, and its successor arises from the ashes,
there being but one phenix in existence at a tinif".
SCENE III.] JS YOU LIKE IT. ^^
Silvius. No, I protest, I know not the contents' ;
Phebe did write it.
Rosalind. Come, come, you are a fool,
And turn'd into the extremity of love.
I saw her hand ; she has a leathern hand,
A freestone-color'd hand ; I verily did think
That her old gloves were on, but 'twas her hands ;
She has a huswife's hand ; but that's no matter.
I say she never did invent this letter ;
This is a man's invention and his hand.
Silvius. Sure, it is hers.
Rosalind. Why, 'tis a boisterous and a cruel style,
A style for challengers ; why, she defies me.
Like Turk to Christian ! Woman's gentle brain
Could not drop forth such giant-rude invention.
Such Ethiop words, blacker in their effect
Than in their countenance. Will you hear the letter ?
Silvius. So please you, for I never heard it yet ;
Yet heard too much of Phebe's cruelty.
Rosalind. She Phebes me ; mark how the tyrant writes.
\Reads.
Art thou god to shepherd turned,
That a maiden's heart hath turn'd? ā
Can a woman rail thus ? ā
Silvius. Call you this railing ?
Rosalind. [Reads]
Why, thy godhead laid apart,
Warr'st thou with a wotnan's heart? ā
Did you ever hear such railing ? ā
Whiles the eye of 7nan did woo me.
That could do no vengeance to me. ā
Meaning me a beast. ā Ā»
84 SHAKESPEARE. [act iv.
If the scorn of your bright eyne i
Have power to raise such love in mine,
Alack, in me what strange effect
Would they work in viild aspect' !
Whiles you chid me, I did love ;
How theti might yoicr prayers move I
He that brings this love to thee
Little knows th's love in me ;
And by him seal up thy mind ;
Whether that thy youth and kind^
Will the faithful offer take
Of me and all that I can make ;
Or else by him my love deny.
And then P II study how to die.
Silvius. Call you this chiding ?
Celia. Alas, poor shepherd !
Rosalind. Do you pity him ? No, he deserves no pity. ā Wilt
thou love such a woman ? What, to make thee an instrument
and play false ^trains upon thee ! ā not to be endur'd ! ā Well, go
yoiu- way to her ā for I see love hath made thee a tame snake-*
ā and say this to her: that if she love me, I charge her to love
thee ; if she will not, I will never have her unless thou entreat
for her. If you be a true lover, hence, and not a word ; for here
comes more company, \Exit Silvius.
Enter Oliver.
Oliver. Good morrow, fair ones ; pray you, if you know,
Where in the purheus "* of this forest stands
A sheepcote fenc'd about with olive trees ?
Celia. West of this place, down in the neighbor bottom ;
The rank ^ of osiers by the murmuring stream
Left on your right hand brings you to the place.
But at this hour the house doth keep itself ;
There's none within.
1 The old plural of "eye." 2 Natural disposition.
3 Contemptible fellow. * Borders. 5 Row.
SCENE III.] AS YOU LIKE IT. Ā»5
Oliver. If that an eye may profit by a tongue,
Then should I know you by description ;
Such garments and such years : " The boy is fair,
Of female favor, and bestows ^ himself
Like a ripe ^ sister ; the woman low,
And browner than her brother." Are not you
The owner of the house I did inquire for ?
Celia. It is no boast, being ask'd, to say we are.
Oliver. Orlando doth commend him to you both,
And to that youth he calls his Rosahnd
He sends this bloody napkin.^ ā Are you he ?
Rosalind. I am. What must we understand by this ?
Oliver. Some of my shame ; if you will know of me ,
What man I am, and how and why and where
This handkercher was stain'd.
Celia. I pray you, tell it.
Oliver. When last the young Orlando parted from you
He left a promise to return again
Within an hour; and pacing through the forest,
Chewing the food of sweet and bitter fancy,
Lo, what befell ! He threw his eye aside,
And mark what object did present itself ;
Under an oak, whose boughs were moss'd with age.
And high top bald with dry antiquity,
A wretched, ragged man, o'ergrown with hair,
Lay sleeping on his back. About his neck
A green and gilded snake had wreath'd itself,
Who with her head, nimble in threats, approach'd
The opening of his mouth ; but suddenly,
Seeing Orlando, it unlink'd itself.
And with indented glides did slip away
Into a bush ; under which bush's shade
A lioness, with udders all drawn dry,
Lay couching,^ head on ground, with catlike watch,
I Conducts. 2 Elder. 3 Handkerchief. ^ Crouching.
86 SHAKESPEARE. [act iv.
When that the sleeping man should stir ; for 'tis
The royal disposition of that beast
To prey on nothing that doth seem as dead.
This seen, Orlando did approach the man,
And found it was his brother, his elder brother.
Celia. O, I have heard him speak of that same brother ;
And he did render ^ him the most unnatural
That liv'd 'mongst men.
Oliver. And well he might so do,
For well I know he was unnatural.
Rosalind. But, to Orlando : did he leave him there,
Food to the suck'd and hungry lioness ?
Oliver. Twice did he turn his back and purpos'd so ;
But kindness, nobler ever than revenge,
And nature, stronger than his just occasion.
Made him give battle to the lioness,
Who quickly fell before him ; in which hurtling 2
From miserable slumber I awaked.
Celia. Are you his brother ?
Rosalind. Was't you he rescu'd ?
Celia. Was't you that did so oft contrive to kill him ?
Oliver. 'Twas I ; but 'tis not I. I do not shame
To tell you what I was, since my conversion
So sweetly tastes, being the thing I am.
Rosalind. But, for the bloody napkin ?
Oliver. By and by.
When from the first to last betwixt us two
Tears our recountments had most kindly bath'd,
As how I came into that desert place; ā
In brief, he led me to the gentle Duke,
Who gave me fresh array and entertainment,
Committing me unto my brother's love ;
Who led me instantly unto his cave,
There stripp'd himself, and here upon his arm
"' Report. 2 Noise of the conflict.
SCENE III. J JS VOr LIKE IT. 87
The lioness had torn some flesh away,
Which all this while had bled ; and now he fainted,
And cried, in fainting, upon Rosalind.
Brief, I recover'd him, bound up his wound ;
And, after some small space, being strong at heart,
He sent me hither, stranger as I am.
To tell this story, that you might excuse
His broken promise, and to give this napkin
Dyed in his blood unto the shepherd youth
That he in sport doth call his Rosalind. \Rosalind swoons.
Celia. Why, how now, Ganymede ! sweet Ganymede !
Oliver. Many will swoon when they do look on blood.
Celia. There is more in it. ā Cousin ā Ganymede 1
Oliver. Look, he recovers.
Rosalind. I would I were at home.
Celia. We'll lead you thither. ā
I pray you, will you take him by the arm ?
Oliver. Be of good che^sr, youth. You a man! you lack a
man's heart.
Rosalind. I do so, I confess it. Ah, sirrah, a body would
think this was well counterfeited ! I pray you, tell your brother
how well I counterfeited. ā Heigh-ho !
Oliver. This was not counterfeit ; there is too great testimony
in your complexion that it was a passion of earnest.
Rosalind. Counterfeit, I assure you.
Oliver. Well, then, take a good heart and counterfeit to be a
man.
Rosalind. So I do ; but, i' faith, I should have been a woman
by right.
Celia. Come, you look paler and paler ; pray you, draw
homewards. ā Good sir, go with us.
Oliver. That will I, for I must bear answer back
How you excuse my brother, Rosalind.
Rosalind. I shall devise something ; but, I pray you, com-
mend my counterfeiting to him. ā Will you go ? \ Exeunt.
88 SHAKESPEARE. [act v.
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.^
^Ā«/^r 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 cover'd. 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.
Totichsto7te. "Thank God," ā a good answer. Art rich ?
William. Faith, sir, so-so.
^ '* We cannot hold," i.e., we cannot restrain ourselves; we must have
our gibe.
2 " God ye good even," i.e., God give you good even.
SCENE I.] AS YOU LIKE IT. 89
Touchstone. " So-so " is good, very good, very excellent good ;
ā and yet it is not ; it is but so-so. Art thou wise ?
William. Ay, sir, I have a pretty wit.
Touchstone. Why, thou say'st well. I do now remember a say-
ing, " 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 hps 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 ihou 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 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.
William. Which he, sir ?
Touchstone. He, sir, that must marry this woman. Therefore,
you clown, abandon ā which is in the vulgar leave ā the society
ā which in the boorish is company ā of this female ā which in
the common is woman ; which together is, abandon the society
of this female, or, clown, thou perishest ; or, to thy better under-
standing, diest ; or, to wit, I kill thee, make thee away, translate
thy life into death, thy hberty into bondage ; I will deal in poi-
son with thee, or in bastinado,^ or in steel; I will bandy 2 with
thee in faction ; I will o'errun thee with pohcy ; I will kill thee
a hundred and fifty ways ; therefore tremble, and depart.
Audrey. Do, good Wilham.
William. God rest you merry, sir. \Exit.
Enter CoRlN.
Corin. Our master and mistress seek you ; come, away, away !
Touchstone. Trip, Audrey ! trip, Audrey ! ā I attend, I attend.
[Exeunt.
1 A blow with a cudgel. 2 Contend.
90 SHAKESPEARE. [act v.
Scene II. The Forest.
Enter Orlando and Oliver.
Orlajido. 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 sud-
den 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 fol-
lowers. 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, hov/ 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.
Rosalifid. Did your brother tell you how 1 counterfeited to
swoon when he show'd me your handkercher ?
Orlando. Ay, and greater wonders than that.
Rosalind. O, I know where you are.- ā Nay, 'tis true ; there was
never anything so sudden but the fight of two rams, and Caesar's
1 Persevere (accent on the second syllable).
2 " Where you are," i.e., what you mean.
{
SCENE II.] AS YOU LIKE IT. 91
thrasonical 1 brag of " I came, saw, and overcame." ^ For your
brother and my sister no sooner met but they look'd, no sooner
look'd but they lov'd, no sooner lov'd 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 staiis to marriage which they will climb in-
continent ; ā¢' they are in the very wrath of love, and they will to-
gether ; clubs cannot part ihem.
OrhiJido. 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 ā for now I speak to some purpose ā 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 labor 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,
convers'd 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
1 Extravagantly boastful.
2 It was after his swift and total defeat of Pharnaces, King of Pontus, at
Zela (45 B.C.), that Julius Csesar sent to the Roman senate the celebrated dis-
patch, Vcni, vidi, vici (" I came, 1 saw, I overcame").
3 Immediately. * Intelligence.
5 Worthy of condemnation. 6 Speech and action.
92 SHAKESPEARE. [act v
it is not impossible to me, if it appear not inconvenient to you
to set her before your eyes to-morrow, human as she is and with-
out any danger.