Act V
Enter Touchstone and Audrey.
TOUCHSTONE We shall find a time, Audrey. Patience,
gentle Audrey.
AUDREY Faith, the priest was good enough, for all the
old gentleman’s saying.
TOUCHSTONE A most wicked Sir Oliver, Audrey, a most 5
vile Martext. But Audrey, there is a youth here in
the forest lays claim to you.
AUDREY Ay, I know who ’tis. He hath no interest in me
in the world.
Enter William.
Here comes the man you mean. 10
TOUCHSTONE It is meat and drink to me to see a clown.
By my troth, we that have good wits have much to
answer for. We shall be flouting. We cannot hold.
WILLIAM Good ev’n, Audrey.
AUDREY God gi’ good ev’n, William. 15
WILLIAM, to Touchstone And good ev’n to you, sir.
TOUCHSTONE Good ev’n, gentle friend. Cover thy head,
cover thy head. Nay, prithee, be covered. How old
are you, friend?
WILLIAM Five-and-twenty, sir. 20
TOUCHSTONE A ripe age. Is thy name William?
WILLIAM William, sir.
TOUCHSTONE A fair name. Wast born i’ th’ forest here?
WILLIAM Ay, sir, I thank God.
TOUCHSTONE “Thank God.” A good answer. Art rich? 25
WILLIAM ’Faith sir, so-so.
TOUCHSTONE “So-so” is good, very good, very excellent
good. And yet it is not: it is but so-so. Art thou wise?
WILLIAM Ay, sir, I have a pretty wit.
TOUCHSTONE Why, thou sayst well. I do now remember 30
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 35
lips to open. You do love this maid?
WILLIAM I do, sir.
TOUCHSTONE Give me your hand. Art thou learned?
WILLIAM No, sir.
TOUCHSTONE Then learn this of me: to have is to have. 40
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 he.
WILLIAM Which he, sir? 45
TOUCHSTONE 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 50
society of this female, or, clown, thou perishest; or,
to thy better understanding, diest; or, 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 55
thee in faction. I will o’errun thee with policy. I
will kill thee a hundred and fifty ways. Therefore
tremble and depart.
AUDREY Do, good William.
WILLIAM, to Touchstone God rest you merry, sir. 60
He exits.
Enter Corin.
CORIN Our master and mistress seeks you. Come away,
away.
TOUCHSTONE Trip, Audrey, trip, Audrey.—I attend, I
attend.
They exit.
Scene 2
Enter Orlando, with his arm in a sling, and Oliver.
ORLANDO Is ’t possible that on so little acquaintance
you should like her? That, but seeing, you should
love her? And loving, woo? And wooing, she should
grant? And will you persever to enjoy her?
OLIVER Neither call the giddiness of it in question, the 5
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 10
the revenue that was old Sir Rowland’s will I estate
upon you, and here live and die a shepherd.
Enter Rosalind, as Ganymede.
ORLANDO You have my consent. Let your wedding be
tomorrow. Thither will I invite the Duke and all ’s
contented followers. Go you and prepare Aliena, 15
for, look you, here comes my Rosalind.
ROSALIND, as Ganymede, to Oliver God save you,
brother.
OLIVER And you, fair sister. He exits.
ROSALIND, as Ganymede O my dear Orlando, how it 20
grieves me to see thee wear thy heart in a scarf.
ORLANDO It is my arm.
ROSALIND, as Ganymede I thought thy heart had been
wounded with the claws of a lion.
ORLANDO Wounded it is, but with the eyes of a lady. 25
ROSALIND, as Ganymede Did your brother tell you
how I counterfeited to swoon when he showed me
your handkercher?
ORLANDO Ay, and greater wonders than that.
ROSALIND, as Ganymede O, I know where you are. 30
Nay, ’tis true. There was never anything so sudden
but the fight of two rams, and Caesar’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 35
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 40
before marriage. They are in the very wrath
of love, and they will together. Clubs cannot part
them.
ORLANDO They shall be married tomorrow, and I will
bid the Duke to the nuptial. But O, how bitter a 45
thing it is to look into happiness through another
man’s eyes. By so much the more shall I tomorrow
be at the height of heart-heaviness by how much I
shall think my brother happy in having what he
wishes for. 50
ROSALIND, as Ganymede Why, then, tomorrow I cannot
serve your turn for Rosalind?
ORLANDO I can live no longer by thinking.
ROSALIND, as Ganymede I will weary you then no
longer with idle talking. Know of me then—for 55
now I speak to some purpose—that I know you are
a gentleman of good conceit. I speak not this that
you should bear a good opinion of my knowledge,
insomuch I say I know you are. Neither do I labor
for a greater esteem than may in some little measure 60
draw a belief from you to do yourself good, and
not to grace me. Believe then, if you please, that I
can do strange things. I have, since I was three year
old, conversed with a magician, most profound in
his art and yet not damnable. If you do love Rosalind 65
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 your eyes 70
tomorrow, human as she is, and without any
danger.
ORLANDO Speak’st thou in sober meanings?
ROSALIND, as Ganymede By my life I do, which I
tender dearly, though I say I am a magician. Therefore 75
put you in your best array, bid your friends; for
if you will be married tomorrow, you shall, and to
Rosalind, if you will.
Enter Silvius and Phoebe.
Look, here comes a lover of mine and a lover of
hers. 80
PHOEBE, to Rosalind
Youth, you have done me much ungentleness
To show the letter that I writ to you.
ROSALIND, as Ganymede
I care not if I have. It is my study
To seem despiteful and ungentle to you.
You are there followed by a faithful shepherd. 85
Look upon him, love him; he worships you.
PHOEBE, to Silvius
Good shepherd, tell this youth what ’tis to love.
SILVIUS
It is to be all made of sighs and tears,
And so am I for Phoebe.
PHOEBE And I for Ganymede. 90
ORLANDO And I for Rosalind.
ROSALIND, as Ganymede And I for no woman.
SILVIUS
It is to be all made of faith and service,
And so am I for Phoebe.
PHOEBE And I for Ganymede. 95
ORLANDO And I for Rosalind.
ROSALIND, as Ganymede And I for no woman.
SILVIUS
It is to be all made of fantasy,
All made of passion and all made of wishes,
All adoration, duty, and observance, 100
All humbleness, all patience and impatience,
All purity, all trial, all observance,
And so am I for Phoebe.
PHOEBE And so am I for Ganymede.
ORLANDO And so am I for Rosalind. 105
ROSALIND, as Ganymede And so am I for no
woman.
PHOEBE
If this be so, why blame you me to love you?
SILVIUS
If this be so, why blame you me to love you?
ORLANDO
If this be so, why blame you me to love you? 110
ROSALIND, as Ganymede Why do you speak too,
“Why blame you me to love you?”
ORLANDO To her that is not here, nor doth not hear.
ROSALIND, as Ganymede Pray you, no more of this.
’Tis like the howling of Irish wolves against the 115
moon. (To Silvius.) I will help you if I can. (To
Phoebe.) I would love you if I could.—Tomorrow
meet me all together. (To Phoebe.) I will marry
you if ever I marry woman, and I’ll be married
tomorrow. (To Orlando.) I will satisfy you if ever I 120
satisfy man, and you shall be married tomorrow.
(To Silvius.) I will content you, if what pleases you
contents you, and you shall be married tomorrow.
(To Orlando.) As you love Rosalind, meet. (To
Silvius.) As you love Phoebe, meet.—And as I love 125
no woman, I’ll meet. So fare you well. I have left
you commands.
SILVIUS I’ll not fail, if I live.
PHOEBE Nor I.
ORLANDO Nor I. 130
They exit.
Scene 3
Enter Touchstone and Audrey.
TOUCHSTONE Tomorrow is the joyful day, Audrey. Tomorrow
will we be married.
AUDREY I do desire it with all my heart, and I hope it is
no dishonest desire to desire to be a woman of the
world. 5
Enter two Pages.
Here come two of the banished duke’s pages.
FIRST PAGE Well met, honest gentleman.
TOUCHSTONE By my troth, well met. Come, sit, sit, and
a song.
SECOND PAGE We are for you. Sit i’ th’ middle. 10
They sit.
FIRST 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?
SECOND PAGE I’ faith, i’ faith, and both in a tune like
two gypsies on a horse. 15
Song.
PAGES sing
It was a lover and his lass,
With a hey, and a ho, and a hey-nonny-no,
That o’er the green cornfield did pass
In springtime, the only pretty ring time,
When birds do sing, hey ding a ding, ding. 20
Sweet lovers love the spring.
Between the acres of the rye,
With a hey, and a ho, and a hey-nonny-no,
These pretty country folks would lie
In springtime, the only pretty ring time, 25
When birds do sing, hey ding a ding, ding.
Sweet lovers love the spring.
This carol they began that hour,
With a hey, and a ho, and a hey-nonny-no,
How that a life was but a flower 30
In springtime, the only pretty ring time,
When birds do sing, hey ding a ding, ding.
Sweet lovers love the spring.
And therefore take the present time,
With a hey, and a ho, and a hey-nonny-no, 35
For love is crownèd with the prime,
In springtime, the only pretty ring time,
When birds do sing, hey ding a ding, ding.
Sweet lovers love the spring.
TOUCHSTONE Truly, young gentlemen, though there 40
was no great matter in the ditty, yet the note was
very untunable.
FIRST PAGE You are deceived, sir. We kept time. We lost
not our time.
TOUCHSTONE By my troth, yes. I count it but time lost 45
to hear such a foolish song. God be wi’ you, and
God mend your voices.—Come, Audrey.
They rise and exit.
Scene 4
Enter Duke Senior, Amiens, Jaques, Orlando, Oliver,
and Celia as Aliena.
DUKE SENIOR
Dost thou believe, Orlando, that the boy
Can do all this that he hath promisèd?
ORLANDO
I sometimes do believe and sometimes do not,
As those that fear they hope, and know they fear.
Enter Rosalind as Ganymede, Silvius, and Phoebe.
ROSALIND, as Ganymede
Patience once more whiles our compact is urged. 5
To Duke. You say, if I bring in your Rosalind,
You will bestow her on Orlando here?
DUKE SENIOR
That would I, had I kingdoms to give with her.
ROSALIND, as Ganymede, to Orlando
And you say you will have her when I bring her?
ORLANDO
That would I, were I of all kingdoms king. 10
ROSALIND, as Ganymede, to Phoebe
You say you’ll marry me if I be willing?
PHOEBE
That will I, should I die the hour after.
ROSALIND, as Ganymede
But if you do refuse to marry me,
You’ll give yourself to this most faithful shepherd?
PHOEBE So is the bargain. 15
ROSALIND, as Ganymede, to Silvius
You say that you’ll have Phoebe if she will?
SILVIUS
Though to have her and death were both one thing.
ROSALIND, as Ganymede
I have promised to make all this matter even.
Keep you your word, O duke, to give your
daughter,— 20
You yours, Orlando, to receive his daughter.—
Keep you your word, Phoebe, 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 25
To make these doubts all even.
Rosalind and Celia exit.
DUKE SENIOR
I do remember in this shepherd boy
Some lively touches of my daughter’s favor.
ORLANDO
My lord, the first time that I ever saw him
Methought he was a brother to your daughter. 30
But, my good lord, this boy is forest-born
And hath been tutored in the rudiments
Of many desperate studies by his uncle,
Whom he reports to be a great magician
Obscurèd in the circle of this forest. 35
Enter Touchstone and Audrey.
JAQUES There is sure another flood toward, and these
couples are coming to the ark. Here comes a pair of
very strange beasts, which in all tongues are called
fools.
TOUCHSTONE Salutation and greeting to you all. 40
JAQUES, to Duke Good my lord, bid him welcome.
This is the motley-minded gentleman that I have so
often met in the forest. He hath been a courtier, he
swears.
TOUCHSTONE If any man doubt that, let him put me to 45
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. 50
JAQUES And how was that ta’en up?
TOUCHSTONE Faith, we met and found the quarrel was
upon the seventh cause.
JAQUES How “seventh cause”?—Good my lord, like
this fellow. 55
DUKE SENIOR I like him very well.
TOUCHSTONE 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, 60
an ill-favored thing, sir, but mine own. A poor
humor of mine, sir, to take that that no man else
will. Rich honesty dwells like a miser, sir, in a poor
house, as your pearl in your foul oyster.
DUKE SENIOR By my faith, he is very swift and 65
sententious.
TOUCHSTONE According to the fool’s bolt, sir, and such
dulcet diseases.
JAQUES But for the seventh cause. How did you find the
quarrel on the seventh cause? 70
TOUCHSTONE 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 75
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
called “the reply churlish.” If again it was not well 80
cut, he would answer I spake not true. This is called
“the reproof valiant.” If again it was not well cut, he
would say I lie. This is called “the countercheck
quarrelsome,” and so to “the lie circumstantial,”
and “the lie direct.” 85
JAQUES And how oft did you say his beard was not well
cut?
TOUCHSTONE 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. 90
JAQUES Can you nominate in order now the degrees of
the lie?
TOUCHSTONE 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 95
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, 100
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. 105
Your “if” is the only peacemaker: much virtue in
“if.”
JAQUES, to Duke Is not this a rare fellow, my lord?
He’s as good at anything and yet a fool.
DUKE SENIOR He uses his folly like a stalking-horse, 110
and under the presentation of that he shoots his wit.
Enter Hymen, Rosalind, and Celia. Still music.
HYMEN
Then is there mirth in heaven
When earthly things made even
Atone together.
Good duke, receive thy daughter. 115
Hymen from heaven brought her,
Yea, brought her hither,
That thou mightst join her hand with his,
Whose heart within his bosom is.
ROSALIND, to Duke
To you I give myself, for I am yours. 120
To Orlando. To you I give myself, for I am yours.
DUKE SENIOR
If there be truth in sight, you are my daughter.
ORLANDO
If there be truth in sight, you are my Rosalind.
PHOEBE
If sight and shape be true,
Why then, my love adieu. 125
ROSALIND, to Duke
I’ll have no father, if you be not he.
To Orlando. I’ll have no husband, if you be not he,
To Phoebe. Nor ne’er wed woman, if you be not
she.
HYMEN
Peace, ho! I bar confusion. 130
’Tis I must make conclusion
Of these most strange events.
Here’s eight that must take hands
To join in Hymen’s bands,
If truth holds true contents. 135
To Rosalind and Orlando.
You and you no cross shall part.
To Celia and Oliver.
You and you are heart in heart.
To Phoebe.
You to his love must accord
Or have a woman to your lord.
To Audrey and Touchstone.
You and you are sure together 140
As the winter to foul weather.
To All.
Whiles a wedlock hymn we sing,
Feed yourselves with questioning,
That reason wonder may diminish
How thus we met, and these things finish. 145
Song.
Wedding is great Juno’s crown,
O blessèd bond of board and bed.
’Tis Hymen peoples every town.
High wedlock then be honorèd.
Honor, high honor, and renown 150
To Hymen, god of every town.
DUKE SENIOR, to Celia
O my dear niece, welcome thou art to me,
Even daughter, welcome in no less degree.
PHOEBE, to Silvius
I will not eat my word. Now thou art mine,
Thy faith my fancy to thee doth combine. 155
Enter Second Brother, Jaques de Boys.
SECOND BROTHER
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, 160
Addressed a mighty power, which were on foot
In his own conduct, purposely to take
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, 165
After some question with him, was converted
Both from his enterprise and from the world,
His crown bequeathing to his banished brother,
And all their lands restored to them again
That were with him exiled. This to be true 170
I do engage my life.
DUKE SENIOR Welcome, young man.
Thou offer’st fairly to thy brothers’ wedding:
To one his lands withheld, and to the other
A land itself at large, a potent dukedom.— 175
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 endured shrewd days and nights with us
Shall share the good of our returnèd fortune 180
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 heaped in joy to th’ measures fall. 185
JAQUES, to Second Brother
Sir, by your patience: if I heard you rightly,
The Duke hath put on a religious life
And thrown into neglect the pompous court.
SECOND BROTHER He hath.
JAQUES
To him will I. Out of these convertites 190
There is much matter to be heard and learned.
To Duke. You to your former honor I bequeath;
Your patience and your virtue well deserves it.
To Orlando. You to a love that your true faith doth
merit. 195
To Oliver. You to your land, and love, and great
allies.
To Silvius. You to a long and well-deservèd bed.
To Touchstone. And you to wrangling, for thy
loving voyage 200
Is but for two months victualled.—So to your
pleasures.
I am for other than for dancing measures.
DUKE SENIOR Stay, Jaques, stay.
JAQUES
To see no pastime, I. What you would have 205
I’ll stay to know at your abandoned cave. He exits.
DUKE SENIOR
Proceed, proceed. We’ll begin these rites,
As we do trust they’ll end, in true delights.
Dance. All but Rosalind exit.
EPILOGUE.
ROSALIND 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, 5
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 10
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
you. And I charge you, O men, for the love you bear
to women—as I perceive by your simpering, none 15
of you hates 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 20
good beards, or good faces, or sweet breaths will for
my kind offer, when I make curtsy, bid me farewell.
She exits.