Orlando.

[1] AS I remember Adam, it was vpon this fashion [l. 2] bequeathed me by will, but poore a thousand [l. 3] Crownes, and as thou saist, charged my bro­ [l. 4] ther on his blessing to breed mee well: and [l. 5] there begins my sadnesse: My brother Iaques he keepes [l. 6] at schoole, and report speakes goldenly of his profit: [l. 7] for my part, he keepes me rustically at home, or (to speak [l. 8] more properly) staies me heere at home vnkept: for call [l. 9] you that keeping for a gentleman of my birth, that dif­ [l. 10] fers not from the stalling of an Oxe? his horses are bred [l. 11] better, for besides that they are faire with their feeding, [l. 12] they are taught their mannage, and to that end Riders [l. 13] deerely hir'd: but I (his brother) gaine nothing vnder [l. 14] him but growth, for the which his Animals on his [l. 15] dunghils are as much bound to him as I: besides this no­ [l. 16] thing that he so plentifully giues me, the something that [l. 17] nature gaue mee, his countenance seemes to take from [l. 18] me: hee lets mee feede with his Hindes, barres mee the [l. 19] place of a brother, and as much as in him lies, mines my [l. 20] gentility with my education. This is it Adam that [l. 21] grieues me, and the spirit of my Father, which I thinke [l. 22] is within mee, begins to mutinie against this seruitude. [l. 23] I will no longer endure it, though yet I know no wise [l. 24] remedy how to auoid it.

Adam.

[25] Yonder comes my Master, your brother.

Orlan.

[26] Goe a‑part Adam, and thou shalt heare how [l. 27] he will shake me vp.

Oli.

[28] Now Sir, what make you heere?

Orl.

[29] Nothing: I am not taught to make any thing.

Oli.

[30] What mar you then sir?

Orl.

[31] Marry sir, I am helping you to mar that which [l. 32] God made, a poore vnworthy brother of yours with [l. 33] idlenesse.

Oliuer.

[34] Marry sir be better employed, and be naught [l. 35] a while.

Orlan.

[36] Shall I keepe your hogs, and eat huskes with [l. 37] them? What prodigall portion haue I spent, that I should [l. 38] come to such penury?

Oli.

[39] Know you where you are sir?

Orl.

[40] O sir, very well: heere in your Orchard.

Oli.

[41] Know you before whom sir?

Orl.

[42] I, better then him I am before knowes mee: I [l. 43] know you are my eldest brother, and in the gentle con­ [l. 44] dition of bloud you should so know me: the courtesie of [l. 45] nations allowes you my better, in that you are the first [l. 46] borne, but the same tradition takes not away my bloud, [l. 47] were there twenty brothers betwixt vs: I haue as much [l. 48] of my father in mee, as you, albeit I confesse your com­ [l. 49] ming before me is neerer to his reuerence.

Oli.

[50] What Boy.

Orl.

[51] Come, come elder brother, you are too yong in [l. 52] (this.

Oli.

[53] Wilt thou lay hands on me villaine?

Orl.

[54] I am no villaine: I am the yongest sonne of Sir [l. 55] Rowland de Boys, he was my father, and he is thrice a vil­ [l. 56] laine that saies such a father begot villaines: wert thou [l. 57] not my brother, I would not take this hand from thy [l. 58] throat, till this other had puld out thy tongue for saying [l. 59] so, thou hast raild on thy selfe.

Adam.

[60] Sweet Masters bee patient, for your Fathers [l. 61] remembrance, be at accord.

Oli.

[62] Let me goe I say.

Orl.

[63] I will not till I please: you shall heare mee: my [l. 64] father charg'd you in his will to giue me good educati­ [l. 65] on: you haue train'd me like a pezant, obscuring and [l. 66] hiding from me all gentleman‑like qualities: the spirit [l. 67] of my father growes strong in mee, and I will no longer [l. 68] endure it: therefore allow me such exercises as may be­ [l. 69] come a gentleman, or giue mee the poore allottery my [l. 70] father left me by testament, with that I will goe buy my [l. 71] fortunes.

Oli.

[72] And what wilt thou do? beg when that is spent? [l. 73] Well sir, get you in. I will not long be troubled with [l. 74] you: you shall haue some part of your will, I pray you [l. 75] leaue me.

Orl.

[76] I will no further offend you, then becomes mee [l. 77] for my good.

Oli.

[78] Get you with him, you olde dogge.

Adam.

[79] Is old dogge my reward: most true, I haue [l. 80] lost my teeth in your seruice: God be with my olde ma­ [l. 81] ster, he would not haue spoke such a word.

Oli.

[82] Is it euen so, begin you to grow vpon me? I will [l. 83] physicke your ranckenesse, and yet giue no thousand [l. 84] crownes neyther: holla Dennis.

Den.

[85] Calls your worship?

Oli.

[86] Was not Charles the Dukes Wrastler heere to [l. 87] speake with me?

Den.

[88] So please you, he is heere at the doore, and im­ [l. 89] portunes accesse to you.

Oli.

[90] Call him in: 'twill be a good way: and to mor­ [l. 91] row the wrastling is.

Cha.

[92] Good morrow to your worship.

Oli.

[93] Good Mounsier Charles: what's the new newes [l. 94] at the new Court?

Charles.

[95] There's no newes at the Court Sir, but the [l. 96] olde newes: that is, the old Duke is banished by his yon­ [l. 97] ger brother the new Duke, and three or foure louing Q3 Lords {p. 186} As you like it. [l. 98] Lords haue put themselues into voluntary exile with [l. 99] him, whose lands and reuenues enrich the new Duke, [l. 100] therefore he giues them good leaue to wander.

Oli.

[101] Can you tell if Rosalind the Dukes daughter bee [l. 102] banished with her Father?

Cha.

[103] O no; for the Dukes daughter her Cosen so [l. 104] loues her, being euer from their Cradles bred together, [l. 105] that hee would haue followed her exile, or haue died to [l. 106] stay behind her; she is at the Court, and no lesse beloued [l. 107] of her Vncle, then his owne daughter, and neuer two La­ [l. 108] dies loued as they doe.

Oli.

[109] Where will the old Duke liue?

Cha.

[110] They say hee is already in the Forrest of Arden, [l. 111] and a many merry men with him; and there they liue [l. 112] like the old Robin Hood of England: they say many yong [l. 113] Gentlemen flocke to him euery day, and fleet the time [l. 114] carelesly as they did in the golden world.

Oli.

[115] What, you wrastle to morrow before the new [l. 116] Duke.

Cha.

[117] Marry doe I sir: and I came to acquaint you [l. 118] with a matter: I am giuen sir secretly to vnderstand, that [l. 119] your yonger brother Orlando hath a disposition to come [l. 120] in disguis'd against mee to try a fall: to morrow sir I [l. 121] wrastle for my credit, and hee that escapes me without [l. 122] some broken limbe, shall acquit him well: your brother [l. 123] is but young and tender, and for your loue I would bee [l. 124] loth to foyle him, as I must for my owne honour if hee [l. 125] come in: therefore out of my loue to you, I came hither [l. 126] to acquaint you withall, that either you might stay him [l. 127] from his intendment, or brooke such disgrace well as he [l. 128] shall runne into, in that it is a thing of his owne search, [l. 129] and altogether against my will.

Oli.

[130] Charles, I thanke thee for thy loue to me, which [l. 131] thou shalt finde I will most kindly requite: I had my [l. 132] selfe notice of my Brothers purpose heerein, and haue by [l. 133] vnder‑hand meanes laboured to disswade him from it; [l. 134] but he is resolute. Ile tell thee Charles, it is the stubbor­ [l. 135] nest yong fellow of France, full of ambition, an enuious [l. 136] emulator of euery mans good parts, a secret & villanous [l. 137] contriuer against mee his naturall brother: therefore vse [l. 138] thy discretion, I had as liefe thou didst breake his necke [l. 139] as his finger. And thou wert best looke to't; for if thou [l. 140] dost him any slight disgrace, or if hee doe not mightilie [l. 141] grace himselfe on thee, hee will practise against thee by [l. 142] poyson, entrap thee by some treacherous deuise, and ne­ [l. 143] uer leaue thee till he h[.]th tane thy life by some indirect [l. 144] meanes or other: for I assure thee, (and almost with [l. 145] teares I speake it) there is not one so young, and so vil­ [l. 146] lanous this day liuing. I speake but brotherly of him, [l. 147] but should I anathomize him to thee, as hee is, I must [l. 148] blush, and weepe, and thou must looke pale and [l. 149] wonder.

Cha.

[150] I am heartily glad I came hither to you: if hee [l. 151] come to morrow, Ile giue him his payment: if euer hee [l. 152] goe alone againe, Ile neuer wrastle for prize more: and [l. 153] so God keepe your worship.

[154] Farewell good Charles. Now will I stirre this Game­ [l. 155] ster: I hope I shall see an end of him; for my soule (yet [l. 156] I know not why) hates nothing more then he: yet hee's [l. 157] gentle, neuer school'd, and yet learned, full of noble [l. 158] deuise, of all sorts enchantingly beloued, and indeed [l. 159] so much in the heart of the world, and especially of my [l. 160] owne people, who best know him, that I am altogether [l. 161] misprised: but it shall not be so long, this wrastler shall [l. 162] cleare all: nothing remaines, but that I kindle the boy [l. 163] thither, which now Ile goe about.

Cel.

[164] I pray thee Rosalind, sweet my Coz, be merry.

Ros.

[165] Deere Cellia; I show more mirth then I am mi­ [l. 166] stresse of, and would you yet were merrier: vnlesse you [l. 167] could teach me to forget a banished father, you must not [l. 168] learne mee how to remember any extraordinary plea­ [l. 169] sure.

Cel.

[170] Heerein I see thou lou'st mee not with the full [l. 171] waight that I loue thee; if my Vncle thy banished father [l. 172] had banished thy Vncle the Duke my Father, so thou [l. 173] hadst beene still with mee, I could haue taught my loue [l. 174] to take thy father for mine; so wouldst thou, if the truth [l. 175] of thy loue to me were so righteously temper'd, as mine [l. 176] is to thee.

Ros.

[177] Well, I will forget the condition of my estate, [l. 178] to reioyce in yours.

Cel.

[179] You know my Father hath no childe, but I, nor [l. 180] none is like [.]o haue; and truely when he dies, thou shalt [l. 181] be his heire; for what hee hath taken away from thy fa­ [l. 182] ther perforce, I will render thee againe in affection: by [l. 183] mine honor I will, and when I breake that oath, let mee [l. 184] turne monster: therefore my sweet Rose, my deare Rose, [l. 185] be merry.

Ros.

[186] From henceforth I will Coz, and deuise sports: [l. 187] let me see, what thinke you of falling in Loue?

Cel.

[188] Marry I prethee doe, to make sport withall: but [l. 189] loue no man in good earnest, nor no further in sport ney­ [l. 190] ther, then with safety of a pure blush, thou maist in ho­ [l. 191] nor come off againe.

Ros.

[192] What shall be our sport then?

Cel.

[193] Let vs sit and mocke the good houswife For­ [l. 194] tune from her wheele, that her gifts may henceforth bee [l. 195] bestowed equally.

Ros.

[196] I would wee could doe so: for her benefits are [l. 197] mightily misplaced, and the bountifull blinde woman [l. 198] doth most mistake in her gifts to women.

Cel.

[199] Tis true, for those that she makes faire, she scarce [l. 200] makes honest, & those that she makes honest, she makes [l. 201] very illfauouredly.

Ros.

[202] Nay now thou goest from Fortunes office to Na­ [l. 203] tures: Fortune reignes in gifts of the world, not in the [l. 204] lineaments of Nature.

Cel.

[205] No; when Nature hath made a faire creature, [l. 206] may she not by Fortune fall into the fire? though nature [l. 207] hath giuen vs wit to flout at Fortune, hath not Fortune [l. 208] sent in this foole to cut off the argument?

Ros.

[209] Indeed there is fortune too hard for nature, when [l. 210] fortune makes natures naturall, the cutter off of natures [l. 211] witte.

Cel.

[212] Peraduenture this is not Fortunes work neither, [l. 213] but Natures, who perceiueth our naturall wits too dull [l. 214] to reason of such goddesses, hath sent this Naturall for [l. 215] our whetstone. for alwaies the dulnesse of the foole, is [l. 216] the whetstone of the wits. How now Witte, whether [l. 217] wander you?

Clow.

[218] Mistresse, you must come away to your father.

Cel.

[219] Were you made the messenger?

Clo.

[220] No by mine honor, but I was bid to come for you

Ros.

[221] Where learned you that oath foole?

Clo.

[222] Of a certaine Knight, that swore by his Honour [l. 223] they were good Pan‑cakes, and swore by his Honor the [l. 224] Mustard was naught: Now Ile stand to it, the Pancakes [l. 225] were naught, and the Mustard was good, and yet was [l. 226] not the Knight forsworne.

Cel.

[227] How proue you that in the great heape of your [l. 228] knowledge?

Ros.

[229] I marry, now vnmuzzle your wisedome.

Clo.

[230] Stand you both forth now: stroke your chinnes, [l. 231] and sweare by your beards that I am a knaue.

Cel.

[232] By our beards (if we had them) thou art.

Clo.

[233] By my knauerie (if I had it) then I were: but if [l. 234] you sweare by that that is not, you are not forsworn: no [l. 235] more was this knight swearing by his Honor, for he ne­ [l. 236] uer had anie; or if he had, he had sworne it away, before [l. 237] euer he saw those Pancakes, or that Mustard.

Cel.

[238] Prethee, who is't that thou means't?

Clo.

[239] One that old Fredericke your Father loues.

Ros.

[240] My Fathers loue is enough to honor him enough; [l. 241] speake no more of him, you'l be whipt for taxation one [l. 242] of these daies.

Clo.

[243] The more pittie that fooles may not speak wise­ [l. 244] ly, what Wisemen do foolishly.

Cel.

[245] By my troth thou saiest true: For, since the little [l. 246] wit that fooles haue was silenced, the little foolerie that [l. 247] wise men haue makes a great shew; Heere comes Mon­ [l. 248] sieur the Beu.

Ros.

[249] With his mouth full of newes.

Cel.

[250] Which he vvill put on vs, as Pigeons feed their [l. 251] young.

Ros.

[252] Then shal we be newes‑cram'd.

Cel.

[253] All the better: we shalbe the more Marketable. [l. 254] Boon‑iour Monsieur le Beu, what's the newes?

Le Beu.

[255] Faire Princesse, [l. 256] you haue lost much good sport.

Cel.

[257] Sport: of what colour?

Le Beu.

[258] What colour Madame? How shall I aun­ [l. 259] swer you?

Ros.

[260] As wit and fortune will.

Clo.

[261] Or as the destinies decrees.

Cel.

[262] Well said, that was laid on with a trowell.

Clo.

[263] Nay, if I keepe not my ranke.

Ros.

[264] Thou loosest thy old smell.

Le Beu.

[265] You amaze me Ladies: I would haue told [l. 266] you of good wrastling, which you haue lost the sight of.

Ros.

[267] Yet tell vs the manner of the Wrastling.

Le Beu.

[268] I wil tell you the beginning: and if it please [l. 269] your Ladiships, you may see the end, for the best is yet [l. 270] to doe, and heere where you are, they are comming to [l. 271] performe it.

Cel.

[272] Well, the beginning that is dead and buried.

Le Beu.

[273] There comes an old man, and his three sons.

Cel.

[274] I could match this beginning with an old tale.

Le Beu.

[275] Three proper yong men, of excellent growth [l. 276] and presence.

Ros.

[277] With bils on their neckes: Be it knowne vnto [l. 278] all men by these presents.

Le Beu.

[279] The eldest of the three, wrastled with Charles [l. 280] the Dukes Wrastler, which Charles in a moment threw [l. 281] him, and broke three of his ribbes, that there is little [l. 282] hope of life in him: So he seru'd the second, and so the [l. 283] third: yonder they lie, the poore old man their Father, [l. 284] making such pittiful dole ouer them, that all the behold­ [l. 285] ders take his part with weeping.

Ros.

[286] Alas.

Clo.

[287] But what is the sport Monsieur, that the Ladies [l. 288] haue lost?

Le Beu.

[289] Why this that I speake of.

Clo.

[290] Thus men may grow wiser euery day. It is the [l. 291] first time that euer I heard breaking of ribbes was sport [l. 292] for Ladies.

Cel.

[293] Or I, I promise thee.

Ros.

[294] But is there any else longs to see this broken [l. 295] Musicke in his sides? Is there yet another doates vpon [l. 296] rib‑breaking? Shall we see this wrastling Cosin?

Le Beu.

[297] You must if you stay heere, for heere is the [l. 298] place appointed for the wrastling, and they are ready to [l. 299] performe it.

Cel.

[300] Yonder sure they are comming. Let vs now stay [l. 301] and see it.

Duke.

[302] Come on, since the youth will not be intreated [l. 303] His owne perill on his forwardnesse.

Ros.

[304] Is yonder the man?

Le Beu.

[305] Euen he, Madam.

Cel.

[306] Alas, he is too yong: yet he looks successefully

Du.

[307] How now daughter, and Cousin:

[308] Are you crept hither to see the wrastling?

Ros.

[309] I my Liege, so please you giue vs leaue.

Du.

[310] You wil take little delight in it, I can tell you [l. 311] there is such oddes in the man: In pitie of the challen­ [l. 312] gers youth, I would faine disswade him, but he will not [l. 313] bee entreated. Speake to him Ladies, see if you can [l. 314] mooue him.

Cel.

[315] Call him hether good Monsieuer Le Beu.

Duke.

[316] Do so: Ile not be by.

Le Beu.

[317] Monsieur the Challenger, the Princesse cals [l. 318] for you.

Orl.

[319] I attend them with all respect and dutie.

Ros.

[320] Young man, haue you challeng'd Charles the [l. 321] Wrastler?

Orl.

[322] No faire Princesse: he is the generall challenger, [l. 323] I come but in as others do, to try with him the strength [l. 324] of my youth.

Cel.

[325] Yong Gentleman, your spirits are too bold for [l. 326] your yeares: you haue seene cruell proofe of this mans [l. 327] strength, if you saw your selfe with your eies, or knew [l. 328] your selfe with your iudgment, the feare of your aduen­ [l. 329] ture would counsel you to a more equall enterprise. We [l. 330] pray you for your owne sake to embrace your own safe­ [l. 331] tie, and giue ouer this attempt.

Ros.

[332] Do yong Sir, your reputation shall not therefore [l. 333] be misprised: we wil make it our suite to the Duke, that [l. 334] the wrastling might not go forward.

Orl.

[335] I beseech you, punish mee not with your harde [l. 336] thoughts, wherein I confesse me much guiltie to denie [l. 337] so faire and excellent Ladies anie thing. But let your [l. 338] faire eies, and gentle wishes go with mee to my triall; [l. 339] wherein if I bee foil'd, there is but one sham'd that vvas [l. 340] neuer gracious: if kil'd, but one dead that is willing to [l. 341] be so: I shall do my friends no wrong, for I haue none to [l. 342] lament me: the world no iniurie, for in it I haue nothing: [l. 343] onely in the world I fil vp a place, which may bee better [l. 344] supplied, when I haue made it emptie.

Ros.

[345] The little strength that I haue, I would it vvere [l. 346] with you.

Cel.

[347] And mine to eeke out hers.

Ros.

[348] Fare you well: praie heauen I be deceiu'd in you.

Cel.

[349] Your hearts desires be with you.

Char.

[350] Come, where is this yong gallant, that is so [l. 351] desirous to lie with his mother earth?

Orl.

[352] Readie Sir, but his will hath in it a more modest [l. 353] working.

Duk.

[354] You shall trie but one fall.

Cha.

[355] No, I warrant your Grace you shall not entreat [l. 356] him to a second, that haue so mightilie perswaded him [l. 357] from a first.

Orl.

[358] You meane to mocke me after: you should not [l. 359] haue mockt me before: but come your waies.

Ros.

[360] Now Hercules, be thy speede yong man.

Cel.

[361] I would I were inuisible, to catch the strong fel­ [l. 362] low by the legge.

Ros.

[363] Oh excellent yong man.

Cel.

[364] If I had a thunderbolt in mine eie, I can tell who [l. 365] should downe.

Duk.

[366] No more, no more.

Orl.

[367] Yes I beseech your Grace, I am not yet well [l. 368] breath'd.

Duk.

Le Beu.

Duk.

Orl.

[373] Orlando my Liege, the yongest sonne of Sir Ro­ [l. 374] land de Boys.

Duk.

Cel.

Orl.

Ros.

Cel.

Ros.

Cel.

Orl.

Ros.

Cel.

Ros.

Orl.

Le Beu.

Orl.

Le Beu.

Orl.

Cel.

[445] Why Cosen, why Rosaline: Cupid haue mercie, [l. 446] Not a word?

Ros.

[447] Not one to throw at a dog.

Cel.

[448] No, thy words are too precious to be cast away [l. 449] vpon curs, throw some of them at me; come lame mee [l. 450] with reasons.

Ros.

[451] Then there were two Cosens laid vp, when the [l. 452] one should be lam'd with reasons, and the other mad [l. 453] without any.

Cel.

[454] But is all this for your Father?

Ros.

[455] No, some of it is for my childes Father: Oh [l. 456] how full of briers is this working day world.

Cel.

[457] They are but burs, Cosen, throwne vpon thee [l. 458] in holiday foolerie, if we walke not in the trodden paths [l. 459] our very petty‑coates will catch them.

Ros.

[460] I could shake them off my coate, these burs are [l. 461] in my heart.

Cel.

[462] Hem them away.

Ros.

[463] I would try if I could cry hem, and haue him.

Cel.

[464] Come, come, wrastle with thy affections.

Ros.

[465] O they the part of a better wrastler then [l. 466] my selfe.

Cel.

[467] O, a god wish vpon you: you will trie in time in {p. 187} As you like it. [l. 468] in dispight of a fall: but turning these iests out of seruice, [l. 469] let vs talke in good earnest: Is it possible on such a so­ [l. 470] daine, you should fall into so strong a liking with old Sir [l. 471] Roulands yongest sonne?

Ros.

[472] The Duke my Father lou'd his Father deerelie.

Cel.

[473] Doth it therefore ensue that you should loue his [l. 474] Sonne deerelie? By this kinde of chase, I should hate [l. 475] him, for my father hated his father deerely; yet I hate [l. 476] not Orlando.

Ros.

[477] No faith, hate him not for my sake.

Cel.

[478] Why should I not? doth he not deserue well?

Ros.

Cel.

Duk.

Ros.

Duk.

Ros.

Duk.

Ros.

Duk.

Ros.

Cel.

Duk.

Cel.

Duk.

Cel.

Duk.

Cel.

Ros.

Cel.

Ros.

Cel.

Ros.

Cel.

Ros.

Cel.

Ros.

Cel.

Ros.

Cel.

Ros.

Cel.

Duk. Sen.

{p. 190} As you like it.

Amien.

Du. Sen.

1. Lord.

Du. Sen.

1. Lord.

Du. Sen.

1. Lor

Duk.

1. Lo.

2. Lor.

Duk.

Orl.

Ad.

Ad.

He {p. 191} As you like it.

Ad.

Ad.

Orl.

Ad.

Orl.

Ad.

Ros.

[757] O Iupiter, how merry are my spirits?

Clo.

[758] I care not for my spirits, if my legges were not [l. 759] wearie.

Ros.

[760] I could finde in my heart to disgrace my mans [l. 761] apparell, and to cry like a woman: but I must comfort [l. 762] the weaker vessell, as doublet and hose ought to show it [l. 763] selfe coragious to petty‑coate; therefore courage, good [l. 764] Aliena.

Cel.

[765] I pray you beare with me, I cannot goe no fur­ [l. 766] ther.

Clo.

[767] For my part, I had rather beare with you, then [l. 768] beare you: yet I should beare no crosse if I did beare [l. 769] you, for I thinke you haue no money in your purse.

Ros.

[770] Well, this is the Forrest of Arden.

Clo.

[771] I, now am I in Arden, the more foole I, when I [l. 772] was at home I was in a better place, but Trauellers must [l. 773] be content.

Ros.

[774] I, be so good Touchstone: Look you, who comes [l. 775] here, a yong man and an old in solemne talke.

Cor.

Sil.

Cor.

Sil.

Cor.

Sil.

Ros.

[798] Alas poore Shepheard searching of they would, [l. 799] I haue by hard aduenture found mine owne.

Clo.

[800] And I mine: I remember when I was in loue, I [l. 801] broke my sword vpon a stone, and bid him take that for [l. 802] comming a night to Iane Smile, and I remember the kis­ [l. 803] sing of her batler, and the Cowes dugs that her prettie [l. 804] chopt hands had milk'd; and I remember the wooing [l. 805] of a peascod instead of her, from whom I tooke two [l. 806] cods, and giuing her them againe, said with weeping [l. 807] teares, weare these for my sake: wee that are true Lo­ [l. 808] uers, runne into strange capers; but as all is mortall in nature, so [l. 809] is all nature in loue, mortall in folly.

Ros.

[810] Thou speak'st wiser then thou art ware of.

Clo.

[811] Nay, I shall nere be ware of mine owne wit, till [l. 812] I breake my shins against it.

Ros.

Clo.

Cel.

Clo.

Ros.

Cor.

Clo.

Cor.

Ros.

Cor.

Ros.

Cor.

Ros.

Cor.

Ros.

Cel.

Cor.

Iaq.

Amy.

Iaq.

Amy.

Iaq.

Amy.

Iaq.

[875] Nay, I care not for their names, they owe mee [l. 876] nothing. Wil you sing?

A[...]

[877] More at your request, then to please my selfe. [l. 878] [.] ell then, if euer I thanke any man, Ile thanke [l. 879] you: but that they cal complement is like th'encounter [l. 880] of two dog‑Apes. And when a man thankes me hartily, [l. 881] me thinkes I haue giuen him a penie, and he renders me [l. 882] the beggerly thankes. Come sing; and you that wil not [l. 883] hold your tongues.

Amy.

[884] Wel, Ile end the song. Sirs, couer the while, [l. 885] the Duke wil drinke vnder this tree; he hath bin all this [l. 886] day to looke you.

Iaq.

Iaq.

Amy.

Amy.

Amy.

Iaq.

[909] 'Tis a Greeke inuocation, to call fools into a cir­ [l. 910] cle. Ile go sleepe if I can: if I cannot, Ile raile against all [l. 911] the first borne of Egypt.

Amy.

Adam.

Orl.

Du. Sen.

1. Lord.

Du. Sen.

1. Lord.

Du. Sen.

Iaq.

Du. Sen.

Iaq.

Du. Sen.

Iaq.

Du. Sen.

Iaq.

Du. Sen.

Iaq.

Orl.

Iaq.

Orl.

Iaq.

Du. Sen.

Orl.

Iaq.

Du. Sen.

Orl.

Du. Sen.

Orl.

Du. Sen.

Orl.

Duke Sen.

Orl.

Du. Sen.

Ia.

Du Sen.

[1105] Welcome: set downe your venerable bur­ [l. 1106] then, and let him feede.

Orl.

Ad.

Du. Sen.

Duke Sen.

Du.

Ol.

Duke.

Orl.

Co.

[1164] And how like you this shepherds life Mr Touchstone?

Clow.

[1165] Truely Shepheard, in respect of it selfe, it is a [l. 1166] good life; but in respect that it is a shepheards life, it is [l. 1167] naught. In respect that it is solitary, I like it verie well: [l. 1168] but in respect that it is priuate, it is a very vild life. Now [l. 1169] in respect it is in the fields, it pleaseth mee well: but in [l. 1170] respect it is not in the Court, it is tedious. As it is a spare [l. 1171] life (looke you) it fits my humor well: but as there is no [l. 1172] more plentie in it, it goes much against my stomacke. [l. 1173] Has't any Philosophie in thee shepheard?

Cor.

[1174] No more, but that I know the more one sickens, [l. 1175] the worse at ease he is: and that hee that wants money, [l. 1176] meanes, and content, is without three good frends. That [l. 1177] the propertie of raine is to wet, and fire to burne: That [l. 1178] pood pasture makes fat sheepe: and that a great cause of [l. 1179] the night, is lacke of the Sunne: That hee that hath lear­ [l. 1180] no wit by Nature, nor Art, may complaine of good [l. 1181] breeding, or comes of a very dull kindred.

Clo.

Cor.

[1184] No truly.

Clo.

[1185] Then thou art damn'd.

Cor.

[1186] Nay, I hope.

Clo.

[1187] Truly thou art damn'd, like an ill roasted Egge, [l. 1188] all on one side.

Cor.

[1189] For not being at Court? your reason.

Clo.

[1190] Why, if thou neuer was't at Court, thou neuer [l. 1191] saw'st good manners: if thou neuer saw'st good maners, [l. 1192] then thy manners must be wicked, and wickednes is sin, [l. 1193] and sinne is damnation: Thou art in a parlous state shep­ [l. 1194] heard.

Cor.

[1195] Not a whit Touchstone, those that are good ma­ [l. 1196] at the Court, are as ridiculous in the Countrey, as [l. 1197] the behauiour of the Countrie is most mockeable at the [l. 1198] Court. You told me, you salute not at the Court, but [l. 1199] you kisse your hands; that courtesie would be vncleanlie [l. 1200] if Courtiers were shepheards.

Clo.

[1201] Instance, briefly: come, instance.

Cor.

[1202] Why we are still handling our Ewes, and their [l. 1203] Fels you know are greasie.

Clo.

[1204] Why do not your Courtiers hands sweate? And [l. 1205] is not the grease of a Mutton, as wholesome as the sweat [l. 1206] of a man? Shallow, shallow: A better instance I say: [l. 1207] Come.

Cor.

[1208] Besides, our hands are hard.

Clo.

Cor.

[1210] And they are often tarr'd ouer, with the surgery [l. 1211] of our sheepe: and would you haue vs kisse Tarre? The [l. 1212] Courtiers hands are perfum'd with Ciuet.

Clo.

[1213] Most shallow man: Thou wormes meate in re­ [l. 1214] spect of a good peece of flesh indeed: learne of the wise [l. 1215] and perpend: Ciuet is of a baser birth then Tarre, the [l. 1216] verie vncleanly fluxe of a Cat. Mend the instance Shep­ [l. 1217] heard.

Cor.

[1218] You haue too Courtly a wit, for me, Ile rest.

Clo.

[1219] Wilt thou rest damn'd? God helpe thee shallow [l. 1220] man: God make incision in thee, thou art raw.

Cor.

[1221] Sir, I am a true Labourer, I earne that I eate: get [l. 1222] that I weare; owe no man hate, enuie no mans happi­ [l. 1223] nesse: glad of other mens good content with my harme: [l. 1224] and the greatest of my pride, is to see my Ewes graze, & [l. 1225] my Lambes sucke.

Clo.

[1226] That is another simple sinne in you, to bring the [l. 1227] Ewes and the Rammes together, and to offer to get your [l. 1228] liuing, by the copulation of Cattle, to be bawd to a Bel­ [l. 1229] weather, and to betray a shee‑Lambe of a tweluemonth [l. 1230] to a crooked‑pated olde Cuckoldly Ramme, out of all [l. 1231] reasonable match. If thou bee'st not damn'd for this, the [l. 1232] diuell himselfe will haue no shepherds, I cannot see else [l. 1233] how thou shouldst scape.

Cor.

[1234] Heere comes yong Mr Ganimed, my new Mistris­ [l. 1235] ses Brother.

Ros.

Clo.

[1244] Ile rime you so, eight yeares together; dinners, [l. 1245] and suppers, and sleeping hours excepted: it is the right [l. 1246] Butter‑womens ranke to Market.

Ros.

[1247] Out Foole.

Clo.

[1248] For a taste.

[1261] This is the verie false gallop of Verses, why doe you in­ [l. 1262] fect your selfe with them?

Ros.

[1263] Peace you dull foole, I found them on a tree.

Clo.

[1264] Truely the tree yeelds bad fruite.

Ros.

[1265] Ile graffe it with you, and then I shall graffe it [l. 1266] with a Medler: then it will be the earliest fruit i'th coun­ [l. 1267] try: for you'l be rotten ere you bee halfe ripe, and that's [l. 1268] the right vertue of the Medler.

Clo.

[1269] You haue said: but whether wisely or no, let the [l. 1270] Forrest iudge.

Ros.

[1271] Peace, here comes my sister reading, stand aside.

Cel.

R2 Helens {p. 196} As you like it.

Ros.

[1302] O most gentle Iupiter, what tedious homilie of [l. 1303] Loue haue you wearied your parishioners withall, and [l. 1304] neuer cri'de, haue patience good people.

Cel.

[1305] How now backe friends: Shepheard, go off a lit­ [l. 1306] tle: go with him sirrah.

Clo.

[1307] Come Shepheard, let vs make an honorable re­ [l. 1308] treit, though not with bagge and baggage, yet with [l. 1309] scrip and scrippage.

Cel.

[1310] Didst thou heare these verses?

Ros.

[1311] O yes, I heard them all, and more too, for some [l. 1312] of them had in them more feete then the Verses would [l. 1313] beare.

Cel.

[1314] That's no matter: the feet might beare yͤ verses.

Ros.

[1315] I, but the feet were lame, and could not beare [l. 1316] themselues without the verse, and therefore stood lame­ [l. 1317] ly in the verse.

Cel.

[1318] But didst thou heare without wondering, how [l. 1319] thy name should be hang'd and carued vpon these trees?

Ros.

[1320] I was seuen of the nine daies out of the wonder, [l. 1321] before you came: for looke heere what I found on a [l. 1322] Palme tree; I was neuer so berim'd since Pythagoras time [l. 1323] that I was an Irish Rat, which I can hardly remember.

Cel.

[1324] Tro you, who hath done this?

Ros.

[1325] Is it a man?

Cel.

[1326] And a chaine that you once wore about his neck: [l. 1327] change you colour?

Ros.

[1328] I pre'thee who?

Cel.

[1329] O Lord, Lord, it is a hard matter for friends to [l. 1330] meete; but Mountaines may bee remoou'd with Earth­ [l. 1331] quakes, and so encounter.

Ros.

[1332] Nay, but who is it?

Cel.

[1333] Is it possible?

Ros.

[1334] Nay, I pre'thee now, with most petitionary ve­ [l. 1335] hemence, tell me who it is.

Cel.

[1336] O wonderfull, wonderfull, and most wonderfull [l. 1337] wonderfull, and yet againe wonderful, and after that out [l. 1338] of all hooping.

Ros.

[1339] Good my complection, dost thou think though [l. 1340] I am caparison'd like a man, I haue a doublet and hose in [l. 1341] my disposition? One inch of delay more, is a South‑sea [l. 1342] of discouerie. I pre'thee tell me, who is it quickely, and [l. 1343] speake apace: I would thou couldst stammer, that thou [l. 1344] might'st powre this conceal'd man out of thy mouth, as [l. 1345] Wine comes out of a narrow‑mouth'd bottle: either too [l. 1346] much at once, or none at all. I pre'thee take the Corke [l. 1347] out of thy mouth, that I may drinke thy tydings.

Cel.

[1348] So you may put a man in your belly.

Ros.

[1349] Is he of Gods making? What manner of man? [l. 1350] Is his head worth a hat? Or his chin worth a beard?

Cel.

[1351] Nay, he hath but a little beard.

Ros.

[1352] Why God will send more, if the man will bee [l. 1353] thankful: let me stay the growth of his beard, if thou [l. 1354] delay me not the knowledge of his chin.

Cel.

[1355] It is yong Orlando, that tript vp the Wrastlers [l. 1356] heeles, and your heart, both in an instant.

Ros.

[1357] Nay, but the diuell take mocking: speake sadde [l. 1358] brow, and true maid.

Cel.

Ros.

[1360] Orlando?

Cel.

[1361] Orlando.

Ros.

[1362] Alas the day, what shall I do with my doublet & [l. 1363] hose? What did he when thou saw'st him? What sayde [l. 1364] he? How look'd he? Wherein went he? What makes hee [l. 1365] heere? Did he aske for me? Where remaines he? How [l. 1366] parted he with thee? And when shalt thou see him a­ [l. 1367] gaine? Answer me in one vvord.

Cel.

[1368] You must borrow me Gargantuas mouth first: [l. 1369] 'tis a Word too great for any mouth of this Ages size, to [l. 1370] say I and no, to these particulars, is more then to answer [l. 1371] in a Catechisme.

Ros.

[1372] But doth he know that I am in this Forrest, and [l. 1373] in mans apparrell? Looks he as freshly, as he did the day [l. 1374] he Wrastled?

Cel.

[1375] It is as easie to count Atomies as to resolue the [l. 1376] propositions of a Louer: but take a taste of my finding [l. 1377] him, and rellish it with good obseruance. I found him [l. 1378] vnder a tree like a drop'd Acorne.

Ros.

[1379] It may vvel be cal'd Ioues tree, when it droppes [l. 1380] forth fruite.

Cel.

[1381] Giue me audience, good Madam.

Ros.

[1382] Proceed.

Cel.

[1383] There lay hee stretch'd along like a Wounded [l. 1384] knight.

Ros.

[1385] Though it be pittie to see such a sight, it vvell [l. 1386] becomes the ground.

Cel.

[1387] Cry holla, to the tongue, I prethee: it curuettes [l. 1388] vnseasonably. He was furnish'd like a Hunter.

Ros.

[1389] O ominous, he comes to kill my Hart.

Cel.

[1390] I would sing my song without a burthen, thou [l. 1391] bring'st me out of tune.

Ros.

[1392] Do you not know I am a woman, when I thinke, [l. 1393] I must speake: sweet, say on.

Cel.

[1394] You bring me out. Soft, comes he not heere?

Ros.

[1395] 'Tis he, slinke by, and note him.

Iaq.

[1396] I thanke you for your company, but good faith [l. 1397] I had as liefe haue beene my selfe alone.

Orl.

Iaq.

Orl.

Iaq.

[1402] I pray you marre no more trees vvith Writing [l. 1403] Loue‑songs in their barkes.

Orl.

[1404] I pray you marre no moe of my verses with rea­ [l. 1405] ding them ill‑fauouredly.

Iaq.

[1406] Rosalinde is your loues name?

Orl.

[1407] Yes, Iust.

Iaq.

[1408] I do not like her name.

Orl.

[1409] There was no thought of pleasing you when she [l. 1410] was christen'd.

Iaq.

[1411] What stature is she of?

Orl.

[1412] Iust as high as my heart.

Iaq.

[1413] You are ful of prety answers: haue you not bin ac­ [l. 1414] quainted with goldsmiths wiues, & cond them out of rings

Orl.

[1415] Not so: but I answer you right painted cloath, [l. 1416] from whence you haue studied your questions.

Iaq.

[1417] You haue a nimble wit; I thinke 'twas made of [l. 1418] Attalanta's heeles. Will you sitte downe with me, and [l. 1419] wee two, will raile against our Mistris the world, and all [l. 1420] our miserie.

Orl.

[1421] I wil chide no breather in the world but my selfe against {p. 197} As you like it. [l. 1422] against whom I know mofl most faults.

Iaq.

[1423] The worst fault you haue, is to be in loue.

Orl.

[1424] 'Tis a fault I will not change, for your best ver­ [l. 1425] tue: I am wearie of you.

Iaq.

[1426] By my troth, I was seeking for a Foole, when I [l. 1427] found you.

Orl.

[1428] He is drown'd in the brooke, looke but in, and [l. 1429] you shall see him.

Iaq.

[1430] There I shal see mine owne figure.

Orl.

[1431] Which I take to be either a foole, or a Cipher.

Iaq.

[1432] Ile tarrie no longer with you, farewell good sig­ [l. 1433] nior Loue.

Orl.

[1434] I am glad of your departure: Adieu good Mon­ [l. 1435] soeir Melancholly.

Ros.

[1436] I wil speake to him like a sawcie Lacky. and vn­ [l. 1437] der that habit play the knaue with him, do you hear For­ [l. 1438] (rester.

Orl.

[1439] Verie wel, what would you?

Ros.

[1440] I pray you, what i'st a clocke?

Orl.

[1441] You should aske me what time o'day: there's no [l. 1442] clocke in the Forrest.

Ros.

[1443] Then there is no true Louer in the Forrest, else [l. 1444] sighing euerie minute, and groaning euerie houre wold [l. 1445] detect the lazie foot of time, as wel as a clocke.

Orl.

[1446] And why not the swift foote of time? Had not [l. 1447] that bin as proper?

Ros.

[1448] By no meanes sir; Time trauels in diuers paces, [l. 1449] with diuers persons: Ile tel you who Time ambles with­ [l. 1450] all, who Time trots withal, who Time gallops withal, [l. 1451] and who he stands stil withal.

Orl.

[1452] I prethee, who doth he trot withal?

Ros.

[1453] Marry he trots hard with a yong maid, between [l. 1454] the contract of her marriage, and the day it is solemnizd: [l. 1455] if the interim be but a sennight, Times pace is so hard, [l. 1456] that it seemes the length of seuen yeare.

Orl.

[1457] Who ambles Time withal?

Ros.

[1458] With a Priest that lacks Latine, and a rich man [l. 1459] that hath not the Gowt: for the one sleepes easily be­ [l. 1460] cause he cannot study, and the other liues merrily, be­ [l. 1461] cause he feeles no paine: the one lacking the burthen of [l. 1462] leane and wasteful Learning; the other knowing no bur­ [l. 1463] then of heauie tedious penurie. These Time ambles [l. 1464] withal.

Orl.

[1465] Who doth he gallop withal?

Ros.

[1466] With a theefe to the gallowes: for though hee [l. 1467] go as softly as foot can fall, he thinkes himselfe too soon [l. 1468] there.

Orl.

[1469] Who staies it stil withal?

Ros.

[1470] With Lawiers in the vacation: for they sleepe [l. 1471] betweene Terme and Terme, and then they perceiue not [l. 1472] how time moues.

Orl.

[1473] Where dwel you prettie youth?

Ros.

[1474] With this Shepheardesse my sister: heere in the [l. 1475] skirts of the Forrest, like fringe vpon a petticoat.

Orl.

Ros.

[1477] As the Conie that you see dwell where shee is [l. 1478] kindled.

Orl.

[1479] Your accent is something finer, then you could [l. 1480] purchase in so remoued a dwelling.

Ros.

[1481] I haue bin told so of many: but indeed, an olde [l. 1482] religious Vnckle of mine taught me to speake, who was [l. 1483] in his youth an inland man, one that knew Courtship too [l. 1484] well: for there he fel in loue. I haue heard him read ma­ [l. 1485] ny Lectors against it, and I thanke God, I am not a Wo­ [l. 1486] man to be touch'd with so many giddie offences as hee [l. 1487] hath generally tax'd their whole sex withal.

Orl.

[1488] Can you remember any of the principall euils, [l. 1489] that he laid to the charge of women?

Ros.

[1490] There were none principal, they were all like [l. 1491] one another, as halfe pence are, euerie one fault seeming [l. 1492] monstrous, til his fellow‑fault came to match it.

Orl.

[1493] I prethee recount some of them.

Ros.

[1494] No: I wil not cast away my physick, but on those [l. 1495] that are sicke. There is a man haunts the Forrest, that a­ [l. 1496] buses our yong plants with caruing Rosalinde on their [l. 1497] barkes; hangs Oades vpon Hauthornes, and Elegies on [l. 1498] brambles; all (forsooth) defying the name of Rosalinde. [l. 1499] If I could meet that Fancie‑monger, I would giue him [l. 1500] some good counsel, for he seemes to haue the Quotidian [l. 1501] of Loue vpon him.

Orl.

[1502] I am he that is so Loue‑shak'd, I pray you tel [l. 1503] me your remedie.

Ros.

[1504] There is none of my Vnckles markes vpon you: [l. 1505] he taught me how to know a man in loue: in which cage [l. 1506] of rushes, I am sure you art not prisoner.

Orl.

[1507] What were his markes?

Ros.

[1508] A leane cheeke, which you haue not: a blew eie [l. 1509] and sunken, which you haue not: an vnquestionable spi­ [l. 1510] rit, which you haue not: a beard neglected, which you [l. 1511] haue not: (but I pardon you for that, for simply your ha­ [l. 1512] uing in beard, is a yonger brothers reuennew) then your [l. 1513] hose should be vngarter'd, your bonnet vnbanded, your [l. 1514] sleeue vnbutton'd, your shoo vnti'de, and euerie thing [l. 1515] about you, demonstrating a carelesse desolation: but you [l. 1516] are no such man; you are rather point deuice in your ac­ [l. 1517] coustrements, as louing your selfe, then seeming the Lo­ [l. 1518] uer of any other.

Orl.

[1519] Faire youth, I would I could make thee beleeue [l. 1520] (I Loue.

Ros.

[1521] Me beleeue it? You may assoone make her that [l. 1522] you Loue beleeue it, which I warrant she is apter to do, [l. 1523] then to confesse she do's: that is one of the points, in the [l. 1524] which women stil giue the lie to their consciences. But [l. 1525] in good sooth, are you he that hangs the verses on the [l. 1526] Trees, wherein Rosalind is so admired?

Orl.

[1527] I sweare to thee youth, by the white hand of [l. 1528] Rosalind, I am that he, that vnfortunate he.

Ros.

[1529] But are you so much in loue, as your rimes speak?

Orl.

Ros.

[1531] Loue is meerely a madnesse, and I tel you, de­ [l. 1532] serues as wel a darke house, and a whip, as madmen do: [l. 1533] and the reason why they are not so punish'd and cured, is [l. 1534] that the Lunacie is so ordinarie, that the whippers are in [l. 1535] loue too: yet I professe curing it by counsel.

Orl.

[1536] Did you euer cure any so?

Ros.

[1537] Yes one, and in this manner. Hee was to ima­ [l. 1538] gine me his Loue, his Mistris: and I set him euerie day [l. 1539] to woe me. At which time would I, being but a moonish [l. 1540] youth, greeue, be effeminate, changeable, longing, and [l. 1541] liking, proud, fantastical, apish, shallow, inconstant, ful [l. 1542] of teares, full of smiles; for euerie passion something, and [l. 1543] for no passion truly any thing, as boyes and women are [l. 1544] for the most part, cattle of this colour: would now like [l. 1545] him, now loath him: then entertaine him, then forswear [l. 1546] him: now weepe for him, then spit at him; that I draue [l. 1547] my Sutor from his mad humor of loue, to a liuing humor [l. 1548] of madnes, wc was to forsweare the ful stream of yͤ world, [l. 1549] and to liue in a nooke meerly Monastick: and thus I cur'd [l. 1550] him, and this way wil I take vpon mee to wash your Li­ [l. 1551] uer as cleane as a sound sheepes heart, that there shal not [l. 1552] be one spot of Loue in't.

Orl.

[1553] I would not be cured, youth.

Ros.

[1554] I would cure you, if you would but call me Rosa­ [l. 1555] lind, and come euerie day to my Coat, and woe me.

Orlan.

[1556] Now by the faith of my loue, I will; Tel me [l. 1557] where it is.

Ros.

[1558] Go with me to it, and Ile shew it you: and by [l. 1559] the way, you shal tell me, where in the Forrest you liue: [l. 1560] Wil you go?

Orl.

[1561] With all my heart, good youth.

Ros.

[1562] Nay, you must call mee Rosalind: Come sister, [l. 1563] will you go?

Clo.

[1564] Come apace good Audrey, I wil fetch vp your [l. 1565] Goates, Audrey: and how Audrey am I the man yet? [l. 1566] Doth my simple feature content you?

Aud.

[1567] Your features, Lord warrant vs: what features?

Clo.

[1568] I am heere with thee, and thy Goats, as the most [l. 1569] capricious Poet honest Ouid was among the Gothes.

Iaq.

[1570] O knowledge ill inhabited, worse then Ioue in [l. 1571] a thatch'd house.

Clo.

[1572] When a mans verses cannot be vnderstood, nor [l. 1573] a mans good wit seconded with the forward childe, un­ [l. 1574] derstanding: it strikes a man more dead then a great rec­ [l. 1575] koning in a little roome: truly, I would the Gods hadde [l. 1576] made thee poeticall.

Aud.

[1577] I do not know what Poetical is: is it honest in [l. 1578] deed and word: is it a true thing?

Clo.

[1579] No trulie: for the truest poetrie is the most fai­ [l. 1580] ning, and Louers are giuen to Poetrie: and what they [l. 1581] sweare in Poetrie, may be said as Louers, they do feigne.

Aud.

[1582] Do you wish then that the Gods had made me [l. 1583] Poeticall?

Clow.

[1584] I do truly: for thou swear'st to me thou art ho­ [l. 1585] nest: Now if thou wert a Poet, I might haue some hope [l. 1586] thou didst feigne.

Aud.

[1587] Would you not haue me honest?

Clo.

[1588] No truly, vnlesse thou wert hard fauour'd: for [l. 1589] honestie coupled to beautie, is to haue Honie a sawce to [l. 1590] Sugar.

Iaq.

[1591] A materiall foole.

Aud.

[1592] Well, I am not faire, and therefore I pray the [l. 1593] Gods make me honest.

Clo.

[1594] Truly, and to cast away honestie vppon a foule [l. 1595] slut, were to put good meate into an vncleane dish.

Aud.

[1596] I am not a slut, though I thanke the Goddes I [l. 1597] am foule.

Clo.

[1598] Well, praised be the Gods, for thy foulnesse; slut­ [l. 1599] tishnesse may come heereafter. But be it, as it may bee, [l. 1600] I wil marrie thee: and to that end, I haue bin with Sir [l. 1601] Oliuer Mar‑text, the Vicar of the next village, who hath [l. 1602] promis'd to meete me in this place of the Forrest, and to [l. 1603] couple vs.

Iaq.

[1604] I would faine see this meeting.

Aud.

[1605] Wel, the Gods giue vs ioy.

Clo.

[1606] Amen. A man may if he were of a fearful heart, [l. 1607] stagger in this attempt: for heere wee haue no Temple [l. 1608] but the wood, no assembly but horne‑beasts. But what [l. 1609] though? Courage. As hornes are odious, they are neces­ [l. 1610] sarie. It is said, many a man knowes no end of his goods; [l. 1611] right: Many a man has good Hornes, and knows no end [l. 1612] of them. Well, that is the dowrie of his wife, 'tis none [l. 1613] of his owne getting; hornes, euen so poore men alone: [l. 1614] No, no, the noblest Deere hath them as huge as the Ras­ [l. 1615] call: Is the single man therefore blessed? No, as a wall'd [l. 1616] Towne is more worthier then a village, so is the fore­ [l. 1617] head of a married man, more honourable then the bare [l. 1618] brow of a Batcheller: and by how much defence is bet­ [l. 1619] ter then no skill, by so much is a horne more precious [l. 1620] then to want.

[1621] Heere comes Sir Oliuer: Sir Oliuer Mar‑text you are [l. 1622] wel met. Will you dispatch vs heere vnder this tree, or [l. 1623] shal we go with you to your Chappell?

Ol.

[1624] Is there none heere to giue the woman?

Clo.

[1625] I wil not take her on guift of any man.

Ol.

[1626] Truly she must be giuen, or the marriage is not [l. 1627] lawfull.

Iaq.

[1628] Proceed, proceede: Ile giue her.

Clo.

[1629] Good euen good Mr what ye cal't: how do you [l. 1630] Sir, you are verie well met: goddild you for your last [l. 1631] companie, I am verie glad to see you, euen a toy in hand [l. 1632] heere Sir: Nay, pray be couer'd.

Iaq.

[1633] Wil you be married, Motley?

Clo.

[1634] As the Oxe hath his bow sir, the horse his curb, [l. 1635] and the Falcon her bels, so man hath his desires, and as [l. 1636] Pigeons bill, so wedlocke would be nibbling.

Iaq.

[1637] And wil you (being a man of your breeding) be [l. 1638] married vnder a bush like a begger? Get you to church, [l. 1639] and haue a good Priest that can tel you what marriage is, [l. 1640] this fellow wil but ioyne you together, as they ioyne [l. 1641] Wainscot, then one of you wil proue a shrunke pannell, [l. 1642] and like greene timber, warpe, warpe.

Clo.

[1643] I am not in the minde, but I were better to bee [l. 1644] married of him then of another, for he is not like to mar­ [l. 1645] rie me wel: and not being wel married, it wil be a good [l. 1646] excuse for me heereafter, to leaue my wife.

Iaq.

Ol.

[1651] Farewel good Mr Oliuer: Not O sweet Oliuer, O braue [l. 1652] Oliuer leaue me not behind thee: But winde away, bee [l. 1653] gone I say, I wil not to wedding with thee.

Ol.

[1654] 'Tis no matter; Ne're a fantastical knaue of them [l. 1655] all shal flout me out of my calling.

Ros.

Cel.

[1657] Do I prethee, but yet haue the grace to consider, [l. 1658] that teares do not become a man.

Ros.

Cel.

Ros.

Cel.

Ros.

Cel.

Ros.

Cel.

[1671] Hee hath bought a paire of cast lips of Diana: a [l. 1672] Nun of winters sisterhood kisses not more religiouslie, [l. 1673] the very yce of chastity is in them.

Rosa.

[1674] But why did hee sweare hee would come this [l. 1675] morning, and comes not?

Cel.

Ros.

[1677] Doe you thinke so?

Cel.

[1678] Yes, I thinke he is not a picke purse, nor a horse­ [l. 1679] stealer, but for his verity in loue, I doe thinke him as [l. 1680] concaue as a couered goblet, or a Worme‑eaten nut.

Ros.

[1681] Not true in loue?

Cel.

[1682] Yes, when he is in, but I thinke he is not in.

Ros.

[1683] You haue heard him sweare downright he was.

Cel.

[1684] Was, is not is: besides, the oath of Louer is no [l. 1685] stronger then the word of a Tapster, they are both the [l. 1686] confirmer of false reckonings, he attends here in the for­ [l. 1687] rest on the Duke your father.

Ros.

[1688] I met the Duke yesterday, and had much que­ [l. 1689] stion with him: he askt me of what parentage I was; I [l. 1690] told him of as good as he, so he laugh'd and let mee goe. [l. 1691] But what talke wee of Fathers, when there is such a man [l. 1692] as Orlando?

Cel.

[1693] O that's a braue man, hee writes braue verses, [l. 1694] speakes braue words, sweares braue oathes, and breakes [l. 1695] them brauely, quite trauers athwart the heart of his lo­ [l. 1696] uer, as a puisny Tilter, yt spurs his horse but on one side, [l. 1697] breakes his staffe like a noble goose; but all's braue that [l. 1698] youth mounts, and folly guides: who comes heere?

Corin.

Cel.

Cor.

Ros.

Sil.

Phe.

Sil.

Phe.

Ros.

Phe.

Ros.

Phe.

Ros.

Come {p. 200} As you like it.

Phe.

Sil.

Phe.

Sil.

Phe.

Sil.

Phe.

Sil.

Phe.

Sil.

Phe.

Sil.

Phe.

Sil.

Phe.

Iaq.

[1857] I prethee, pretty youth, let me better acquainted [l. 1858] with thee.

Ros.

Iaq.

[1860] I am so: I doe loue it better then laughing.

Ros.

[1861] Those that are in extremity of either, are abho­ [l. 1862] minable fellowes, and betray themselues to euery mo­ [l. 1863] derne censure, worse then drunkards.

Iaq.

[1864] Why, 'tis good to be sad and say nothing.

Ros.

[1865] Why then 'tis good to be a poste.

Iaq.

[1866] I haue neither the Schollers melancholy, which [l. 1867] is emulation: nor the Musitians, which is fantasticall; [l. 1868] nor the Courtiers, which is proud: nor the Souldiers, [l. 1869] which is ambitious: nor the Lawiers, which is politick: [l. 1870] nor the Ladies, which is nice: nor the Louers, which [l. 1871] is all these: but it is a melancholy of mine owne, com­ [l. 1872] pounded of many simples, extracted from many obiects, [l. 1873] and indeed the sundrie contemplation of my trauells, in [l. 1874] which by often rumination, wraps me in a most humo­ [l. 1875] rous sadnesse.

Ros.

[1876] A Traueller: by my faith you haue great rea­ [l. 1877] son to be sad: I feare you haue sold your owne Lands, [l. 1878] to see other mens; then to haue seene much, and to haue [l. 1879] nothing, is to haue rich eyes and poore hands.

Iaq.

[1880] Yes, I haue gain'd my experience.

Ros.

[1881] And your experience makes you sad: I had ra­ [l. 1882] ther haue a foole to make me merrie, then experience to [l. 1883] make me sad, and to trauaile for it too.

Orl.

Iaq.

[1885] Nay then God buy you, and you talke in blanke [l. 1886] verse.

Ros.

[1887] Farewell Mounsieur Trauellor: looke you [l. 1888] lispe, and weare strange suites; disable all the benefits [l. 1889] of your owne Countrie: be out of loue with your [l. 1890] natiuitie, and almost chide God for making you that [l. 1891] countenance you are; or I will scarce thinke you haue [l. 1892] swam in a Gundello. Why how now Orlando, where [l. 1893] haue you bin all this while? you a louer? and you [l. 1894] serue me such another tricke, neuer come in my sight [l. 1895] more.

Orl.

[1896] My faire Rosalind, I come within an houre of my [l. 1897] promise.

Ros.

[1898] Breake an houres promise in loue? hee that [l. 1899] will diuide a minute into a thousand parts, and breake [l. 1900] but a part of the thousand part of a minute in the affairs [l. 1901] of loue, it may be said of him that Cupid hath clapt [l. 1902] him oth' shoulder, but Ile warrant him heart hole.

Orl.

[1903] Pardon me deere Rosalind.

Ros.

[1904] Nay, and you be so tardie, come no more in my [l. 1905] sight, I had as liefe be woo'd of a Snaile.

Orl.

[1906] Of a Snaile?

Ros.

[1907] I, of a Snaile: for though he comes slowly, hee [l. 1908] carries his house on his head; a better ioyncture I thinke [l. 1909] then you make a woman: besides, he brings his destinie [l. 1910] with him.

Orl.

[1911] What's that?

Ros.

[1912] Why hornes: wc such as you are faine to be be­ [l. 1913] holding to your wiues for: but he comes armed in his [l. 1914] fortune, and preuents the slander of his wife.

Orl.

Ros.

[1916] And I am your Rosalind.

Cel.

[1917] It pleases him to call you so: but he hath a Rosa­ [l. 1918] lind of a better leere then you.

Ros.

[1919] Come, wooe me, wooe mee: for now I am in a [l. 1920] holy‑day humor, and like enough to consent: What [l. 1921] would you say to me now, and I were your verie, verie [l. 1922] Rosalind?

Orl.

[1923] I would kisse before I spoke.

Ros.

[1924] Nay, you were better speake first, and when you [l. 1925] were grauel'd, for lacke of matter, you might take oc­ [l. 1926] casion to kisse: verie good Orators when they are out, [l. 1927] they will spit, and for louers, lacking (God warne vs) [l. 1928] matter, the cleanliest shift is to kisse.

Orl.

[1929] How if the kisse be denide?

Ros.

[1930] Then she puts you to entreatie, and there begins [l. 1931] new matter.

Orl.

[1932] Who could be out, being before his beloued [l. 1933] Mistris?

Ros.

[1934] Marrie that should you if I were your Mistris, [l. 1935] or I should thinke my honestie ranker then my wit.

Orl.

[1936] What, of my suite?

Ros.

[1937] Not out of your apparrell, and yet out of your [l. 1938] suite:

[1939] Am not I your Rosalind?

Orl.

[1940] I take some ioy to say you are, because I would [l. 1941] be talking of her.

Ros.

[1942] Well, in her person, I say I will not haue you.

Orl.

[1943] Then in mine owne person, I die.

Ros.

[1944] No faith, die by Attorney: the poore world is [l. 1945] almost six thousand yeeres old, and in all this time there [l. 1946] was not anie man died in his owne person (videlicet) in [l. 1947] a loue cause: Troilous had his braines dash'd out with a [l. 1948] Grecian club, yet he did what hee could to die before, [l. 1949] and he is one of the patternes of loue. Leander, he would [l. 1950] haue liu'd manie a faire yeere though Hero had turn'd [l. 1951] Nun; if it had not bin for a hot Midsomer‑night, for [l. 1952] (good youth) he went but forth to wash him in the Hel­ [l. 1953] lespont, and being taken with the crampe, was droun'd, [l. 1954] and the foolish Chronoclers of that age, found it was [l. 1955] Hero of Cestos. But these are all lies, men haue died [l. 1956] from time to time, and wormes haue eaten them, but not [l. 1957] for loue.

Orl.

[1958] I would not haue my right Rosalind of this mind, [l. 1959] for I protest her frowne might kill me.

Ros.

[1960] By this hand, it will not kill a flie: but come, [l. 1961] now I will be your Rosalind in a more comming‑on dis­ [l. 1962] position: and aske me what you will, I will grant it.

Orl.

[1963] Then loue me Rosalind.

Ros.

[1964] Yes faith will I, fridaies and saterdaies, and all.

Orl.

[1965] And wilt thou haue me?

Ros.

[1966] I, and twentie such.

Orl.

[1967] What saiest thou?

Ros.

[1968] Are you not good?

Orl.

[1969] I hope so.

Rosalind.

[1970] Why then, can one desire too much of a [l. 1971] good thing: Come sister, you shall be the Priest, and [l. 1972] marrie vs: giue me your hand Orlando: What doe you [l. 1973] say sister?

Orl.

[1974] Pray thee marrie vs.

Cel.

[1975] I cannot say the words.

Ros.

[1976] You must begin, will you Orlando.

Cel.

[1977] Goe too: wil you Orlando, haue to wife this Ro­ [l. 1978] salind?

Orl.

[1979] I will.

Ros.

[1980] I, but when?

Orl.

[1981] Why now, as fast as she can marrie vs.

Ros.

[1982] Then you must say, I take thee Rosalind for [l. 1983] wife.

Orl.

[1984] I take thee Rosalind for wife.

Ros.

[1985] I might aske you for your Commission,

[1986] But I doe take thee Orlando for my husband: there's a [l. 1987] girle goes before the Priest, and certainely a Womans [l. 1988] thought runs before her actions.

Orl.

[1989] So do all thoughts, they are wing'd.

Ros.

[1990] Now tell me how long you would haue her, af­ [l. 1991] ter you haue possest her?

Orl.

[1992] For euer, and a day.

Ros.

[1993] Say a day, without the euer: no, no Orlando, men [l. 1994] are Aprill when they woe, December when they wed: [l. 1995] Maides are May when they are maides, but the sky chan­ [l. 1996] ges when they are wiues: I will bee more iealous of [l. 1997] thee, then a Barbary cocke‑pidgeon ouer his hen, more [l. 1998] clamorous then a Parrat against raine, more new‑fang­ [l. 1999] led then an ape, more giddy in my desires, then a mon­ [l. 2000] key: I will weepe for nothing, like Diana in the Foun­ [l. 2001] taine, & I wil do that when you are dispos'd to be merry: [l. 2002] I will laugh like a Hyen, and that when thou art inclin'd [l. 2003] to sleepe.

Orl.

[2004] But will my Rosalind doe so?

Ros.

[2005] By my life, she will doe as I doe.

Orl.

[2006] O but she is wise.

Ros.

[2007] Or else shee could not haue the wit to doe this: [l. 2008] the wiser, the waywarder: make the doores vpon a wo­ [l. 2009] mans wit, and it will out at the casement: shut that, and [l. 2010] 'twill out at the key‑hole: stop that, 'twill flie with the [l. 2011] smoake out at the chimney.

Orl.

[2012] A man that had a wife with such a wit, he might [l. 2013] say, wit whether wil't?

Ros.

[2014] Nay, you might keepe that checke for it, till you [l. 2015] met your wiues wit going to your neighbours bed.

Orl.

[2016] And what wit could wit haue, to excuse that?

Rosa.

[2017] Marry to say, she came to seeke you there: you [l. 2018] shall neuer take her without her answer, vnlesse you take [l. 2019] her without her tongue: T that woman that cannot [l. 2020] make her fault her husbands occasion, let her neuer nurse [l. 2021] her childe her selfe, for she will breed it like a foole.

Orl.

[2022] For these two houres Rosalinde, I wil leaue thee.

Ros.

[2023] Alas, deere loue, I cannot lacke thee two houres.

Orl.

[2024] I must attend the Duke at dinner, by two a clock [l. 2025] I will be with thee againe.

Ros.

[2026] I, goe your waies, goe your waies: I knew what [l. 2027] you would proue, my friends told mee as much, and I [l. 2028] thought no lesse: that flattering tongue of yours wonne [l. 2029] me: 'tis but one cast away, and so come death: two o' [l. 2030] clocke is your howre.

Orl.

[2031] I, sweet Rosalind.

Ros.

[2032] By my troth, and in good earnest, and so God [l. 2033] mend mee, and by all pretty oathes that are not dange­ [l. 2034] rous, if yo[.] breake one iot of your promise, or come one [l. 2035] minute behinde your houre, I will thinke you the most [l. 2036] patheticall breake‑promise, and the most hollow louer, [l. 2037] and the most vnworthy of her you call Rosalinde, that [l. 2038] may bee chosen out of the grosse band of the vnfaithભ [l. 2039] full: therefore beware my censure, and keep your pro­ [l. 2040] mise.

Orl.

[2041] With no lesse religion, then if thou wert indeed [l. 2042] my Rosalind: so adieu.

Ros.

[2043] Well, Time is the olde Iustice that examines all [l. 2044] such offenders, and let time try: adieu.

Cel.

[2045] You haue simply misus'd our sexe in your loue­ prate: {p. 202} As you like it. [l. 2046] prate: we must haue your doublet and hose pluckt ouer [l. 2047] your head, and shew the world what the bird hath done [l. 2048] to her owne neast.

Ros.

[2049] O coz, coz, coz: my pretty little coz, that thou [l. 2050] didst know how many fathome deepe I am in loue: but [l. 2051] it cannot bee sounded: my affection hath an vnknowne [l. 2052] bottome, like the Bay of Portugall.

Cel.

[2053] Or rather bottomlesse, that as fast as you poure [l. 2054] affection in, in runs out.

Ros.

[2055] No, that same wicked Bastard of Venus, that was [l. 2056] begot of thought, conceiu'd of spleene, and borne of [l. 2057] madnesse, that blinde rascally boy, that abuses euery [l. 2058] ones eyes, because his owne are out, let him bee iudge, [l. 2059] how deepe I am in loue: ile tell thee Aliena, I cannot be [l. 2060] out of the sight of Orlando: Ile goe finde a shadow, and [l. 2061] sigh till he come.

Cel.

[2062] And Ile sleepe.

Iaq.

[2063] Which is he that killed the Deare?

Lord.

[2064] Sir, it was I.

Iaq.

[2065] Let's present him to the Duke like a Romane [l. 2066] Conquerour, and it would doe well to set the Deares [l. 2067] horns vpon his head, for a branch of victory; haue you [l. 2068] no song Forrester for this purpose?

Lord.

[2069] Yes Sir.

Iaq.

[2070] Sing it: 'tis no matter how it bee in tune, so it [l. 2071] make noyse enough.

Ros.

Cel.

Sil.

Ros.

Sil.

Ros.

Sil.

Ros.

Sil.

Ros.

Sil.

Ros.

Sil.

Cel.

Ros.

[2147] Doe you pitty him? No, he deserues no pitty: [l. 2148] wilt thou loue such a woman? what to make thee an in­ [l. 2149] strument, and play false straines vpon thee? not to be en­ [l. 2150] dur'd. Well, goe your way to her; (for I see Loue hath [l. 2151] made thee a tame snake) and say this to her; That if she [l. 2152] loue me, I charge her to loue thee: if she will not, I will [l. 2153] neuer haue her, vnlesse thou intreat for her: if you bee a [l. 2154] true louer hence, and not a word; for here comes more [l. 2155] company.

Oliu.

A {p. 203} As you like it.

Cel.

Oli.

Cel.

Oli.

Ros.

Oli.

Cel.

Oli.

Cel.

Oli.

Ros.

Oli.

Cel.

Ros.

Cel.

Oli.

Ros.

Oli.

Cel.

Oli.

Cel.

Oli.

Ros.

Cel.

Oli.

Ros.

[2252] Ah, sirra, a body would thinke this was well counterfei­ [l. 2253] ted, I pray you tell your brother how well I counterfei­ [l. 2254] ted: heigh‑ho.

Oli.

[2255] This was not counterfeit, there is too great te­ [l. 2256] stimony in your complexion, that it was a passion of ear­ [l. 2257] nest.

Ros.

[2258] Counterfeit, I assure you.

Oli.

[2259] Well then, take a good heart, and counterfeit to [l. 2260] be a man.

Ros.

[2261] So I doe: but yfaith, I should haue beene a wo­ [l. 2262] man by right.

Cel.

[2263] C[.]me, you looke paler and paler: pray you draw [l. 2264] homewards: good sir, goe with vs.

Oli.

Ros.

[2267] I shall deuise something: but I pray you com­ [l. 2268] mend my counterfeiting to him: will you goe?

Clow.

[2269] We shall finde a time Awdrie, patience gen­ [l. 2270] tle Awdrie.

Awd.

[2271] Faith the Priest was good enough, for all the [l. 2272] olde gentlemans saying.

Clow.

[2273] A most wicked Sir Oliuer, Awdrie, a most vile [l. 2274] Mar‑text. But Awdrie, there is a youth heere in the [l. 2275] Forrest layes claime to you.

Awd.

[2276] I, I know who 'tis: he hath no interest in mee [l. 2277] in the world: here comes the man you meane.

Clo.

[2278] It is meat and drinke to me to see a Clowne, by my {p. 204} As you like it. [l. 2279] my troth, we that haue good wits, haue much to answer [l. 2280] for: we shall be flouting: we cannot hold.

Will.

[2281] Good eu'n Audrey.

Aud.

[2282] God ye good eu'n William.

Will.

[2283] And good eu'n to you Sir.

Clo.

[2284] Good eu'n gentle friend. Couer thy head, couer [l. 2285] thy head: Nay prethee bee couer'd. How olde are you [l. 2286] Friend?

Will.

[2287] Fiue and twentie Sir.

Clo.

[2288] A ripe age: Is thy name William?

Will.

[2289] William, sir.

Clo.

[2290] A faire name. Was't borne i'th Forrest heere?

Will.

[2291] I sir, I thanke God.

Clo.

[2292] Thanke God: A good answer:

[2293] Art rich?

Will.

[2294] 'Faith sir, so, so.

Clo.

[2295] So, so, is good, very good, very excellent good: [l. 2296] and yet it is not, it is but so, so:

[2297] Art thou wise?

Will.

[2298] I sir, I haue a prettie wit.

Clo.

[2299] Why, thou saist well. I do now remember a say­ [l. 2300] ing: The Foole doth thinke he is wise, but the wiseman [l. 2301] knowes himselfe to be a Foole. The Heathen Philoso­ [l. 2302] pher, when he had a desire to eate a Grape, would open [l. 2303] his lips when he put it into his mouth, meaning there­ [l. 2304] by, that Grapes were made to eate, and lippes to open. [l. 2305] You do loue this maid?

Will.

[2306] I do sit sir.

Clo.

[2307] Giue me your hand: Art thou Learned?

Will.

[2308] No sir.

Clo.

[2309] Then learne this of me, To haue, is to haue. For [l. 2310] it is a figure in Rhetoricke, that drink being powr'd out [l. 2311] of a cup into a glasse, by filling the one, doth empty the [l. 2312] other. For all your Writers do consent, that ipse is hee: [l. 2313] now you are not ipse, for I am he.

Will.

[2314] Which he sir?

Clo.

[2315] He sir, that must marrie this woman: Therefore [l. 2316] you Clowne, abandon: which is in the vulgar, leaue the [l. 2317] societie: which in the boorish, is companie, of this fe­ [l. 2318] male: which in the common, is woman: which toge­ [l. 2319] ther, is, abandon the society of this Female, or Clowne [l. 2320] thou perishest: or to thy better vnderstanding, dyest; or [l. 2321] (to wit) I kill thee, make thee away, translate thy life in­ [l. 2322] to death, thy libertie into bondage: I will deale in poy­ [l. 2323] son with thee, or in bastinado, or in steele: I will bandy [l. 2324] with thee in faction, I will ore‑run thee with policie: I [l. 2325] will kill thee a hundred and fifty wayes, therefore trem­ [l. 2326] ble and depart.

A[.]d.

[2327] Do good William.

Will.

[2328] God rest you merry sir.

Cor.

[2329] Our Master and Mistresse seekes you: come a­ [l. 2330] way, away.

Clo.

[2331] Trip Audry, trip Audry, I attend, [l. 2332] I attend.

Orl.

[2333] Is't possible, that on so little acquaintance you [l. 2334] should like her? that, but seeing, you should loue her? [l. 2335] And louing woo? and wooing, she should graunt? And [l. 2336] will you perseuer to enioy her?

Ol.

[2337] Neither call the giddinesse of it in question; the [l. 2338] pouertie of her, the small acquaintance, my sodaine wo­ [l. 2339] ing, nor sodaine consenting: but say with mee, I loue [l. 2340] Aliena: say with her, that she loues mee; consent with [l. 2341] both, that we may enioy each other: it shall be to your [l. 2342] good: for my fathers house, and all the reuennew, that [l. 2343] was old Sir Rowlands will I estate vpon you, and here [l. 2344] liue and die a Shepherd.

Orl.

Ros.

Ol.

Ros.

[2352] Oh my deere Orlando, how it greeues me to see [l. 2353] thee weare thy heart in a scarfe.

Orl.

[2354] It is my arme.

Ros.

[2355] I thought thy heart had beene wounded with [l. 2356] the clawes of a Lion.

Orl.

[2357] Wounded it is, but with the eyes of a Lady.

Ros.

[2358] Did your brother tell you how I counterfeyted [l. 2359] to sound, when he shew'd me your handkercher?

Orl.

[2360] I, and greater wonders then that.

Ros.

[2361] O, I know where you are: nay, tis true: there [l. 2362] was neuer any thing so sodaine, but the fight of two [l. 2363] Rammes, and Cesars Thrasonicall bragge of I came, saw, [l. 2364] and ouercome. For your brother, and my sister, no soo­ [l. 2365] ner met, but they look'd: no sooner look'd, but they [l. 2366] lou'd; no sooner lou'd, but they sigh'd: no sooner sigh'd [l. 2367] but they ask'd one another the reason: no sooner knew [l. 2368] the reason, but they sought the remedie: and in these [l. 2369] degrees, haue they made a paire of staires to marriage, [l. 2370] which they will climbe incontinent, or else bee inconti­ [l. 2371] nent before marriage; they are in the verie wrath of [l. 2372] loue, and they will together. Clubbes cannot part [l. 2373] them.

Orl.

[2374] They shall be married to morrow: and I will [l. 2375] bid the Duke to the Nuptiall. But O, how bitter a thing [l. 2376] it is, to looke into happines through another mans eies: [l. 2377] by so much the more shall I to morrow be at the height [l. 2378] of heart heauinesse. by how much I shal thinke my bro­ [l. 2379] ther happie, in hauing what he wishes for.

Ros.

[2380] Why then to morrow, I cannot serue your turne [l. 2381] for Rosalind?

Orl.

[2382] I can liue no longer by thinking.

Ros.

[2383] I will wearie you then no longer with idle tal­ [l. 2384] king. Know of me then (for now I speake to some pur­ [l. 2385] pose) that I know you are a Gentleman of good conceit: [l. 2386] I speake not this, that you should beare a good opinion [l. 2387] of my knowledge: insomuch (I say) I know you are: nei­ [l. 2388] ther do I labor for a greater esteeme then may in some [l. 2389] little measure draw a beleefe from you, to do your selfe [l. 2390] good, and not to grace me. Beleeue then, if you please, [l. 2391] that I can do strange things: I haue since I was three [l. 2392] yeare old conuerst with a Magitian, most profound in [l. 2393] his Art, and yet not damnable. If you do loue Rosalinde [l. 2394] so neere the hart, as your gesture cries it out: when your [l. 2395] brother marries Aliena, shall you marrie her. I know in­ [l. 2396] to what straights of Fortune she is driuen, and it is not [l. 2397] impossible to me, if it appeare not inconuenient to you, to {p. 205} As you like it. [l. 2398] to set her before your eyes to morrow, humane as she is, [l. 2399] and without any danger.

Orl.

[2400] Speak'st thou in sober meanings?

Ros.

[2401] By my life I do, which I tender deerly, though [l. 2402] I say I am a Magitian: Therefore put you in your best a­ [l. 2403] ray, bid your friends: for if you will be married to mor­ [l. 2404] row, you shall: and to Rosalind if you will.

[2405] Looke, here comes a Louer of mine, and a louer of hers.

Phe.

Ros.

Phe.

Sil.

Phe.

Orl.

Ros.

Sil.

Phe.

Orl.

Ros.

Sil.

Phe.

Orl.

Ros.

Phe.

Sil.

Orl.

Ros.

[2435] Why do you speake too, Why blame you mee [l. 2436] to loue you.

Orl.

Ros.

[2438] Pray you no more of this, 'tis like the howling [l. 2439] of Irish Wolues against the Moone: I will helpe you [l. 2440] if I can: I would loue you if I could: To morrow meet [l. 2441] me altogether: I wil marrie you, if euer I marrie Wo­ [l. 2442] man, and Ile be married to morrow: I will satisfie you, [l. 2443] if euer I satisfi'd man, and you shall bee married to mor­ [l. 2444] row. I wil content you, if what pleases you contents [l. 2445] you, and you shal be married to orrow: As you loue [l. 2446] Rosalind meet, as you loue Phebe meet, and as I loue no [l. 2447] woman, Ile meet: so fare you wel: I haue left you com­ [l. 2448] mands.

Sil.

Phe.

Orl.

Clo.

[2452] To morrow is the ioyfull day Audrey, to morrow [l. 2453] will we be married.

Aud.

[2454] I do desire it with all my heart: and I hope it is [l. 2455] no dishonest desire, to desire to be a woman of yͤ world? [l. 2456] Heere come two of the banish'd Dukes Pages.

1. Pa.

[2457] Wel met honest Gentleman.

Clo.

[2458] By my troth well met: come, sit, sit, and a song.

2. Pa.

[2459] We are for you, sit i'th middle.

1. Pa.

[2460] Shal we clap into't roundly, without hauking, [l. 2461] or spitting, or saying we are hoarse, which are the onely [l. 2462] prologues to a bad voice.

2. Pa.

[2463] I faith, y'faith, and both in a tune like two [l. 2464] gipsies on a horse.

Clo.

[2483] Truly yong Gentlemen, though there vvas no [l. 2484] great matter in the dittie, yet yͤ note was very vntunable

1. Pa.

[2485] you are deceiu'd Sir, we kept time, we lost not [l. 2486] our time.

Clo.

[2487] By my troth yes: I count it but time lost to heare [l. 2488] such a foolish song. God buy you, and God mend your [l. 2489] voices. Come Audrie.

Du. Sen.

Orl.

Ros.

Du. Se.

Ros.

Orl.

Ros.

Phe.

Ros.

Phe.

Ros.

Sil.

Ros.

Du. Sen.

Orl.

Iaq.

[2524] There is sure another flood toward, and these [l. 2525] couples are comming to the Arke. Here comes a payre [l. 2526] of verie strange beasts, which in all tongues, are call'd [l. 2527] Fooles.

Clo.

[2528] Salutation and greeting to you all.

Iaq.

[2529] Good my Lord, bid him welcome: This is the [l. 2530] Motley‑minded Gentleman, that I haue so often met in [l. 2531] the Forrest: he hath bin a Courtier he swears.

Clo.

[2532] If any man doubt that, let him put mee to my [l. 2533] purgation, I haue trod a measure, I haue flattred a Lady, [l. 2534] I haue bin politicke with my friend, smooth with mine [l. 2535] enemie, I haue vndone three Tailors, I haue had foure [l. 2536] quarrels, and like to haue fought one.

Iaq.

[2537] And how was that tane vp?

Clo.

[2538] 'Faith we met, and found the quarrel was vpon [l. 2539] the seuenth cause.

Iaq.

[2540] How seuenth cause? Good my Lord, like this [l. 2541] fellow.

Du. Se.

[2542] I like him very well.

Clo.

[2543] God'ild you sir, I desire you of the like: I presse [l. 2544] in heere sir, amongst the rest of the Country copulatiues [l. 2545] to sweare, and to forsweare, according as marriage binds [l. 2546] and blood breakes: a poore virgin sir, an il‑fauor'd thing [l. 2547] sir, but mine owne, a poore humour of mine sir, to take [l. 2548] that that no man else will: rich honestie dwels like a mi­ [l. 2549] ser sir, in a poore house, as your Pearle in your foule oy­ [l. 2550] ster.

Du. Se.

[2551] By my faith, he is very swift, and sententious

Clo.

[2552] According to the fooles bolt sir, and such dulcet [l. 2553] diseases.

Iaq.

[2554] But for the seuenth cause. How did you finde [l. 2555] the quarrell on the seuenth cause?

Clo.

[2556] Vpon a lye, seuen times remoued: (beare your [l. 2557] bodie more seeming Audry) as thus sir: I did dislike the [l. 2558] cut of a certaine Courtiers beard: he sent me word, if I [l. 2559] said his beard was not cut well, hee was in the minde it [l. 2560] was: this is call'd the retort courteous. If I sent him [l. 2561] word againe, it was not well cut, he wold send me word [l. 2562] he cut it‑to please himselfe: this is call'd the quip modest. [l. 2563] If againe, it was not well cut, he disabled my iudgment: [l. 2564] this is called, the reply churlish. If againe it was not well [l. 2565] cut, he would answer I spake not true: this is call'd the [l. 2566] reproofe valiant. If againe, it was not well cut, he wold [l. 2567] say, I lie: this is call'd the counter‑checke quarrelsome: [l. 2568] and so to lye circumstantiall, and the lye direct.

Iaq.

[2569] And how oft did you say his beard was not well [l. 2570] cut?

Clo.

[2571] I durst go no further then the lye circumstantial: [l. 2572] nor he durst not giue me the lye direct: and so wee mea­ [l. 2573] sur'd swords, and parted.

Iaq.

[2574] Can you nominate in order now, the degrees of [l. 2575] the lye.

Clo.

[2576] O sir, we quarrel in print, by the booke: as you [l. 2577] haue bookes for good manners: I will name you the de­ [l. 2578] grees. The first, the Retort courteous: the second, the [l. 2579] Quip‑modest: the third, the reply Churlish: the fourth, [l. 2580] the Reproofe valiant: the fift, the Counterchecke quar­ [l. 2581] relsome: the sixt, the Lye with circumstance: the sea­ [l. 2582] uenth, the Lye direct: all these you may auoyd, but the [l. 2583] Lye direct: and you may auoide that too, with an If. I [l. 2584] knew when seuen Iustices could not take vp a Quarrell, [l. 2585] but when the parties were met themselues, one of them [l. 2586] thought but of an If; as if you saide so, then I saide so: [l. 2587] and they shooke hands, and swore brothers. Your If, is [l. 2588] the onely peace‑maker: much virtue in if.

Iaq.

[2589] Is not this a rare fellow my Lord? He's as good [l. 2590] at any thing, and yet a foole.

Du. Se.

[2591] He vses his folly like a stalking‑horse, and vn­ [l. 2592] der the presentation of that he shoots his wit.

Hymen.

Ros.

Du. Se.

Orl.

Phe.

Ros.

Hy.

Du. Se.

Phe.

2. Bro.

Du. Se.

Iaq.

2. Bro.

Iaq.

Du. Se.

Iaq.

Du. Se.

Ros.

[2684] It is not the fashion to see the Ladie the Epi­ [l. 2685] logue: but it is no more vnhandsome, then to see the [l. 2686] Lord the Prologue. If it be true, that good wine needs [l. 2687] no bush, 'tis true, that a good play needes no Epilogue. [l. 2688] Yet to good wine they do vse good bushes: and good [l. 2689] playes proue the better by the helpe of good Epilogues: [l. 2690] What a case am I in then, that am neither a good Epi­ [l. 2691] logue, nor cannot insinuate with you in the behalfe of a [l. 2692] good play? I am not furnish'd like a Begger, therefore [l. 2693] to begge will not become mee. My way is to coniure [l. 2694] you, and Ile begin with the Women. I charge you (O [l. 2695] women) for the loue you beare to men, to like as much [l. 2696] of this Play, as please you: And I charge you (O men) [l. 2697] for the loue you beare to women (as I perceiue by your [l. 2698] simpring, none of you hates them) that betweene you, [l. 2699] and the women, the play may please. If I were a Wo­ [l. 2700] man, I would kisse as many of you as had beards that [l. 2701] pleas'd me, complexions that lik'd me, and breaths that [l. 2702] I defi'de not: And I am sure, as many as haue good [l. 2703] beards, or good faces, or sweet breaths, will for my kind [l. 2704] offer, when I make curt'sie, bid me farewell.