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I pray you, tell it.
Oli. When last the young Orlando parted from
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 befel! 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,

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testimony in your complexion, that it was a passion of earnest.

Ros. Counterfeit, I assure you.

Oh. Well then, take a good heart, and counter

feit to be a man.

Cel. Are you his brother? Ros. Was it you he rescued? Cel. Was't you, that did so oft contrive to kill him? Oli. '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.

Ros. But, for the bloody napkin ?----
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 ;-
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
The lioness had torn some flesh away,
Which all this while had bled; and now he fainted,
And cry'd, 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,
Dy'd in this blood, unto the shepherd youth,
That he in sport doth call his Rosalind.

Cel. Why, how now, Ganymede? sweet Gany-
(Rosalind faints.)
Oli. Many will swoon, when they do look on blood.
Cel. There is more in it:-Cousin-Ganymede!
Oli. Look, he recovers.
I would, I were at home.
Cel. We'll lead you thither:-
I pray you, will you take him by the arm?
Ol. Be of good cheer, youth-You a man?—
You lack a man's heart.

Ros. I do so, I confess it. Ab, sir, a body would think this was well counterfeited: I pray you, tell your brother how well I counterfeited. Heigh ho!

Oli. This was not counterfeit; there is too great

Ros. So I do: but i'faith, I should have been a woman by right.

Cel. Come, you look paler and paler; pray you, draw homewards :-Good sir, go with us.

Oli. That will I, for I must bear answer back How you excuse my brother, Rosalind. Ros. I shall devise something: But, I pray you, commend my counterfeiting to him :—Will you go? [Exeunt.


SCENE I.-The same.


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

Aud. 'Faith, the priest was good enough, for all the old gentleman's saying.

Touch. A most wicked sir Oliver, Audrey, a most vile Mar-text. But, Audrey, there is a youth here in the forest lays claim to you.

Aud. Ay, I know who 'tis; he hath no interest in me in the world: here comes the man you mean.


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.
Will. And good even to you, sir.

Touch. Good even, gentle friend: Cover thy head, cover thy head: nay, pr'ythee, be covered. How old are you, friend?

Will. Five and twenty, sir.

Touch. A ripe age: Is thy name William?
Will. William, sir.

[here? Touch. A fair name: Wast born i' the forest Will. Ay, sir, I thank God.

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 Will. Ay, sir, I have a pretty wit. [wise? Touch. Why, thou say'st 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?

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 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 Will. Which he, sir? [he. 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 perishest; 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 bandy with thee in faction; I will o'er-run thee with policy; I will kill thee a hundred and fifty ways; therefore tremble, and depart.

Aud. Do, good William.
Will. God rest you merry, sir.


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I attend.

Touch. Trip, Audrey, trip, Audrey :-I attend,

SCENE II.-The same.

Orl. 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?

Oli. 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.


Orl. You have my consent. Let your wedding be to-morrow; thither will I invite the duke, and all his contented followers: Go you, Aliena; for, look you, here comes my Rosalind. and prepare Ros. God save you, brother.

Oli. And you, fair 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 heart had been wounded with the claws of a lion.

Orl. Wounded it is, but with the eyes of a lady. Ros. Did your brother tell you how I counterfeited to swoon, when he show'd me your handkerchief?

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 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.

Orl. They shall be married to-morrow; and I will bid the duke to the nuptials. 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.

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 some purpose,) that I know you are a gentleman speak to 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 years old, conversed with a magician, most profound was three 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

[ACT V. your eyes to-morrow, human as she is, and without any danger.

Orl. Speakest thou in sober meanings?

Ros. 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.


Look, here comes a lover of mine, and a lover of hers.
To show the letter that I writ to you.
Phe. Youth, you have done me much ungentleness,

To seem despiteful and ungentle to you:
Ros. I care not if I have: it is my study,
You are there follow'd by a faithful shepherd;
Look upon him, love him; he worships you.
Phe. Good shepherd, tell this youth what 'tis to

Sil. It is to be all made of sighs and tears;—
And so am I for Phebe.
Phe. And I for Ganymede.

Orl. And I for Rosalind.

Ros. And I for no woman.

Sil. It is to be all made of faith and service ;And so am I for Phebe.

Phe. And I for Ganymede.

Orl. And I for Rosalind.

Ros. And I for no woman.

Sil. It is to be all made of fantasy,

All made of passion, and all made of wishes;
All humbleness, all patience, and impatience,
All adoration, duty and observance,
And so am I for Phebe.
All purity, all trial, all observance ;-

Phe. And so am I for Ganymede.
Orl. And so am I for Rosalind.
Ros. And so am I for no woman.

Phe. If this be so, why blame you me to love
Sil. If this be so, why blame you me to love
(To Rosalind.)
Orl. If this be so, why blame you me to love you?
(To Phebe.)
Ros. Who do you speak to, why blame you me to
love you?

Orl. To her that is not here, nor doth not hear. howling of Irish wolves against the moon.-I will help you, (to Silvius) if I can:-I would love you, Ros. Pray you, no more of this: 'tis like the (to Phebe) if I could.-To-morrow meet me all together.-I will marry you, (to Phebe) if ever I will satisfy you, (to Orlando) if ever I satisfied marry woman, and I'll be married to-morrow:-İ content you, (to Silvius) if what pleases you conman, and you shall be married to-morrow:-I will As you (to Orlando) love Rosalind, meet-as you tents you, and you shall be married to-morrow.— (to Silvius) love Phebe, meet;-and as I love no you commands. woman, I'll meet. So, fare you well; I have left

Sil. I'll not fail, if I live.


Nor I.

Nor I. [Exeunt.

SCENE III-The same.

Enter TOUCHSTONE and AUDREY. Touch. To-morrow is the joyful day, Audrey; to-morrow will we be married.

it is no dishonest desire, to desire to be a woman Aud. I do desire it with all my heart: and I hope of the world. Here comes two of the banished duke's pages.

Enter two Pages.

1 Page. Well met, honest gentleman. Touch. By my troth, well met: Come, sit, sit, and 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 gipsies on a horse.


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 rank 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, &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, &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, &c.

Touch. Truly, young gentlemen, though there was no greater matter in the ditty, yet the note was very untuneable.

1 Page. You are deceived, sir; 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.


SCENE IV. Another Part of the Forest. Eater DUKE Senior, AMIENS, JAQUES, ORLANDO, OLIVER, and CELIA.

Duke S. Dost thou believe, Orlando, that the boy can do all this that he hath promised?

Orl. I sometimes do believe, and sometimes do not; As those that fear they hope, and know they fear.

Enter ROSALIND, SILVIUS, and PHhebe. Ros. Patience once more, whiles our compact is urg'd:

You say, if I bring in your Rosalind, (To the Duke.)
You will bestow her on Orlando here?
Duke S. That would I, had I kingdoms to give

with her.

Ros. And you say, you will have her, when I bring her? (To Orlando.) Orl. That would I, were I of all kingdoms king. Ros. You say, you'll marry me, if 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 (To Silvius.) Sil. Though to have her and death were both one thing. [even. Ros. I have promis'd to make all this matter 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.


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Touch. 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.

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 Duke S. I like him very well. [this fellow. Touch. God'ild you, sir; I desire you of the like. I press in here, sir, amongst the rest of the country copulatives, to swear, and to forswear; according as marriage binds, and blood breaks :A poor virgin, sir, an ill-favoured thing, sir, but mine own; a poor humour of mine, sir, to take that, that no man else will: Rich honesty dwells like a miser, sir, in a poor house; as your pearl, in your foul oyster. [tentious. Duke S. By my faith, he is very swift and senTouch. 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. If again, it was not well cut, he disabled my judgment: This is call'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 call'd the Countercheck quarrelsome: and so to the Lie circumstantial, and the Lie direct. [well cut? Jaq. And how oft did you say, his beard was not Touch. I durst go no further than the Lie circumstantial, nor he durst not give me the Lie direct; and so we measured swords, and parted.

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

Touch. O, sir, we quarrel in print, by the book; as you have books for good manners: I will name you the degrees. The first, the Retort courteous; the second, the Quip modest; the third, the Reply churlish; the fourth, the Reproof valiant; the fifth, the Countercheck quarrelsome; the sixth, the Lie with circumstance; the seventh, the Lie direct. All these you may avoid, but the lie direct; and you may avoid that too, with an If. I knew when seven justices could not take up a quarrel; but when the parties were met themselves, one of them thought but of an If, as, If you said so, then I said so; And they shook hands, and swore brothers. Your If is

[Exeunt Rosalind and Celia. 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 presentation of that, he shoots his wit.

Enter HYMEN, leading ROSALIND in woman's
clothes; and CELIA.
Still Music.

Hym. 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 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. [Rosalind.

Orl. If there be truth in sight, you are my Phe. If sight and shape be true, Why then, my love, adieu!

Ros. I'll have no father, if you be not he :(To Duke S.)

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

(To Orlando.) Nor ne'er wed woman, if you be not she. (To Phebe.) Hym. Peace, ho! I bar confusion : "Tis I must make conclusion

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(To Orlando and Rosalind.) 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,

(To Touchstone and Audrey.)

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.
Wedding is great Juno's crown;

Oblessed 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 S. O, my dear niece, welcome thou art to me; Even daughter, welcome in no less degree. Phe. I will not eat my word: now thou art mine; Thy faith my fancy to thee doth combine.

(To Silvius.)

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 enterprize and from the world:
His crown bequeathing to his banish'd brother,
And all their lands restor'd to them again
That were with him exil'd: This to be true,
I do engage my life.
Duke S.
Welcome, young man ;
Thou offer'st fairly to thy brother's 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 endur'd 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.
Jaq. Sir, by your patience; if I heard you rightly,
The duke hath put on a religious life,
And thrown into neglect the pompous court?
Jaq. de B. He hath.

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


Enter JAQUES de Bois. Jaq. de B. 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

(To Duke S.) Your patience, and your virtue, well deserves it :You (to Orlando) to a love that your true faith doth merit:[allies: You (to Oliver) to your land, and love, and great You (to Silvius) to a long and well-deserved bed:And you (to Touchstone) to wrangling; for thy loving voyage [sures; Is but for two months victuall'd:-So to your pleaI am for other than for dancing measures. Duke S. Stay, Jaques, stay.

Jaq. To see no pastime, I :-what you would have I'll stay to know at your abandon'd cave. [Exit. Duke S. Proceed, proceed: we will begin these rites,

And we do trust they'll end in true delights. (A dance.)


Ros. It is not the fashion to see the lady the epilogue but it is no more unhandsome, than to see the lord the prologue. If it be true, that good wine needs no bush, 'tis true, that a good play needs no epilogue: Yet to good wine they do use good bushes; and good plays prove the better by the help of good epilogues. What a case am I in then, that am neither a good epilogue, nor cannot insinuate with you in the behalf of a good play? I am not furnished like a beggar, therefore to beg will not become me my way is, to conjure you; and I'll begin with the women. I charge you, O women, for the love you bear to men, to like as much of this play as please 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: and, 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,



BERTRAM, Count of Rousillon. LAFEU, an old Lord.

PAROLLES, a Follower of Bertram.

Several young French Lords, that serve with Bertram in the Florentine War.

Steward, } Servants to the Countess of Rousillon.



A Page.

HELENA, a Gentlewoman protected by the Countess.
An old Widow of Florence.

DIANA, Daughter to the Widow.

SCENE,-Partly in France,


SCENE I.-Rousillon. A Room in the Countess's Palace.


Count. In delivering my son from me, I bary a second husband.

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 virtue to you; whose worthiness would stir it up where it wanted, rather than lack it where there is such abundance. [amendment? Count. What hope is there of his majesty's Laf. He hath abandoned 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 stretched 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?

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Count. He was famous, sir, in his profession, and it was his great right to be so: Gerard de Narbon. Laf. 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. [guishes of?

Ber, What is it, my good lord, the king lan

Neighbours and Friends to the Widow.
Lords, attending on the King; Officers, Soldiers, &c.
French and Florentine.
and partly in Tuscany.

Laf. A fistula, my lord.
Ber. I heard not of it before.

Laf. I would, it were not notorious.-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 mind 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. [tears. Laf. Your commendations, madam, get from her 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. No 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. Laf. How understand we that? [father Count. Be thou blest, Bertram! and succeed thy In manners, as in shape! thy blood, and virtue, Contend for empire in thee; and thy goodness Share with thy birth-right! Love all, trust a few, Do wrong to none: be able for thine enemy Rather in power, than use; and keep thy friend Under thy own life's key: be check'd for silence, But never tax'd for speech. What heaven more will, That thee may furnish, and my prayers pluck down, Fall on thy head! Farewell.-My lord, 'Tis an unseason'd courtier; good my lord, Advise him.

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