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90’s version
1 2015-05-22T13:55:39-07:00 Zomayra Jack 0102277d3ccd85d05b0a4347739784bd28a31234 4074 1 In the 90s adaptation of the play, the teens decided to change minor details of the play to accommodate the era they were reenacting. They also added 90’s slang and pop culture references, like how Leonato carries a basketball everywhere because that is when Basketball was very popular, and players like Michael Jordan were at the peak of their careers. This adaptation also helps viewers understand what happens in act I (and the rest of the play) in a short period of time by highlighting the major events of the act. Shakespeare has influenced teens to take his works and accommodate the modern era, which allows us to not only enjoy the play but also have a better understanding of it. plain 2015-05-22T13:55:39-07:00 Zomayra Jack 0102277d3ccd85d05b0a4347739784bd28a31234This page is referenced by:
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1
2015-03-24T18:14:35-07:00
Act I
15
Season 5, episode 16 of the show Bones shows Bones and Booth meeting with the psychologists Sweets to discuss Sweets’ thoughts on the partnership Bones and Booth have. Flashbacks took viewers back in time to the first case they worked on together as well as some defining moments in the partnership. Due to the vagueness of the prior and present relationship status of Bones and Booth in season 5, episode 16, viewers are either elated or upset by their marriage in season 9, episode 6. This reference connects to the theme marriage because both couples declare their dislike and refusal to be married, and in due time are wedded. The play possibly served as a source of inspiration when deciding the dynamic of the relationship between Bones and booth from season 1 to season 10 which is currently going on.
plain
2016-11-16T09:06:56-08:00
Act I, Scene 1 Before LEONATO’S house.[Enter LEONATO, HERO, and BEATRICE, with a Messenger]
Leonato. I learn in this letter that Don Peter of Arragon comes this night to Messina.
Messenger. He is very near by this: he was not three leagues off
when I left him. 5
Leonato. How many gentlemen have you lost in this action?
Messenger. But few of any sort, and none of name.
Leonato. A victory is twice itself when the achiever brings
home full numbers. I find here that Don Peter hath
bestowed much honour on a young Florentine called Claudio. 10
Messenger. Much deserved on his part and equally remembered by
Don Pedro: he hath borne himself beyond the
promise of his age, doing, in the figure of a lamb,
the feats of a lion: he hath indeed better
bettered expectation than you must expect of me to 15
tell you how.
Leonato. He hath an uncle here in Messina will be very much
glad of it.
Messenger. I have already delivered him letters, and there
appears much joy in him; even so much that joy could 20
not show itself modest enough without a badge of
bitterness.
Leonato. Did he break out into tears?
Messenger. In great measure.
Leonato. A kind overflow of kindness: there are no faces 25
truer than those that are so washed. How much
better is it to weep at joy than to joy at weeping!
Beatrice. I pray you, is Signior Mountanto returned from the
wars or no?
Messenger. I know none of that name, lady: there was none such 30
in the army of any sort.
Leonato. What is he that you ask for, niece?
Hero. My cousin means Signior Benedick of Padua.
Messenger. O, he's returned; and as pleasant as ever he was.
Beatrice. He set up his bills here in Messina and challenged 35 Cupid at the flight; and my uncle's fool, reading the challenge, subscribed for Cupid, and challenged him at the bird-bolt. I pray you, how many hath he killed and eaten in these wars? But how many hath he killed? for indeed I promised to eat all of his killing. 40
Leonato. Faith, niece, you tax Signior Benedick too much;
but he'll be meet with you, I doubt it not.
Messenger. He hath done good service, lady, in these wars.
Beatrice. You had musty victual, and he hath holp to eat it:
he is a very valiant trencherman; he hath an 45
excellent stomach.
Messenger. And a good soldier too, lady.
Beatrice. And a good soldier to a lady: but what is he to a lord?
Messenger. A lord to a lord, a man to a man; stuffed with all
honourable virtues. 50
Beatrice. It is so, indeed; he is no less than a stuffed man:
but for the stuffing,—well, we are all mortal.
Leonato. You must not, sir, mistake my niece. There is a
kind of merry war betwixt Signior Benedick and her:
they never meet but there's a skirmish of wit 55
between them.
Beatrice. Alas! he gets nothing by that. In our last
conflict four of his five wits went halting off, and
now is the whole man governed with one: so that if
he have wit enough to keep himself warm, let him 60
bear it for a difference between himself and his
horse; for it is all the wealth that he hath left,
to be known a reasonable creature. Who is his
companion now? He hath every month a new sworn brother.
Messenger. Is't possible? 65
Beatrice. Very easily possible: he wears his faith but as
the fashion of his hat; it ever changes with the
next block.
Messenger. I see, lady, the gentleman is not in your books.
Beatrice. No; an he were, I would burn my study. But, I pray 70
you, who is his companion? Is there no young
squarer now that will make a voyage with him to the devil?
Messenger. He is most in the company of the right noble Claudio.
Beatrice. O Lord, he will hang upon him like a disease: he
is sooner caught than the pestilence, and the taker 75
runs presently mad. God help the noble Claudio! if
he have caught the Benedick, it will cost him a
thousand pound ere a' be cured.
Messenger. I will hold friends with you, lady.
Beatrice. Do, good friend. 80
Leonato. You will never run mad, niece.
Beatrice. No, not till a hot January.
Messenger. Don Pedro is approached.
[Enter DON PEDRO, DON JOHN, CLAUDIO, BENEDICK, and BALTHASAR]
Don Pedro. Good Signior Leonato, you are come to meet your 85
trouble: the fashion of the world is to avoid
cost, and you encounter it.
Leonato. Never came trouble to my house in the likeness of
your grace: for trouble being gone, comfort should
remain; but when you depart from me, sorrow abides 90
and happiness takes his leave.
Don Pedro. You embrace your charge too willingly. I think this
is your daughter.
Leonato. Her mother hath many times told me so.
Benedick. Were you in doubt, sir, that you asked her? 95
Leonato. Signior Benedick, no; for then were you a child.
Don Pedro. You have it full, Benedick: we may guess by this
what you are, being a man. Truly, the lady fathers
herself. Be happy, lady; for you are like an
honourable father. 100
Benedick. If Signior Leonato be her father, she would not
have his head on her shoulders for all Messina, as
like him as she is.
Beatrice. I wonder that you will still be talking, Signior
Benedick: nobody marks you. 105
Benedick. What, my dear Lady Disdain! are you yet living?
Beatrice. Is it possible disdain should die while she hath
such meet food to feed it as Signior Benedick?
Courtesy itself must convert to disdain, if you come
in her presence. 110
Benedick. Then is courtesy a turncoat. But it is certain I
am loved of all ladies, only you excepted: and I
would I could find in my heart that I had not a hard
heart; for, truly, I love none.
Beatrice. A dear happiness to women: they would else have 115
been troubled with a pernicious suitor. I thank God
and my cold blood, I am of your humour for that: I
had rather hear my dog bark at a crow than a man
swear he loves me.
Benedick. God keep your ladyship still in that mind! so some 120
gentleman or other shall 'scape a predestinate
scratched face.
Beatrice. Scratching could not make it worse, an 'twere such
a face as yours were.
Benedick. Well, you are a rare parrot-teacher. 125
Beatrice. A bird of my tongue is better than a beast of yours.
Benedick. I would my horse had the speed of your tongue, and
so good a continuer. But keep your way, i' God's
name; I have done.Don Pedro. That is the sum of all, Leonato. Signior Claudio
and Signior Benedick, my dear friend Leonato hath
invited you all. I tell him we shall stay here at
the least a month; and he heartily prays some
occasion may detain us longer. I dare swear he is no 135
hypocrite, but prays from his heart.
Leonato. If you swear, my lord, you shall not be forsworn.
[To DON JOHN]
Let me bid you welcome, my lord: being reconciled to
the prince your brother, I owe you all duty. 140
Don John. I thank you: I am not of many words, but I thank
you.
Leonato. Please it your grace lead on?
Don Pedro. Your hand, Leonato; we will go together.
[Exeunt all except BENEDICK and CLAUDIO]
Claudio. Benedick, didst thou note the daughter of Signior Leonato?
Benedick. I noted her not; but I looked on her.
Claudio. Is she not a modest young lady?
Benedick. Do you question me, as an honest man should do, for
my simple true judgment; or would you have me speak 150
after my custom, as being a professed tyrant to their sex?
Claudio. No; I pray thee speak in sober judgment.
Benedick. Why, i' faith, methinks she's too low for a high
praise, too brown for a fair praise and too little
for a great praise: only this commendation I can 155
afford her, that were she other than she is, she
were unhandsome; and being no other but as she is, I
do not like her.
Claudio. Thou thinkest I am in sport: I pray thee tell me
truly how thou likest her. 160
Benedick. Would you buy her, that you inquire after her?
Claudio. Can the world buy such a jewel?
Benedick. Yea, and a case to put it into. But speak you this
with a sad brow? or do you play the flouting Jack,
to tell us Cupid is a good hare-finder and Vulcan a 165
rare carpenter? Come, in what key shall a man take
you, to go in the song?
Claudio. In mine eye she is the sweetest lady that ever I
looked on.
Benedick. I can see yet without spectacles and I see no such 170
matter: there's her cousin, an she were not
possessed with a fury, exceeds her as much in beauty
as the first of May doth the last of December. But I
hope you have no intent to turn husband, have you?
Claudio. I would scarce trust myself, though I had sworn the 175
contrary, if Hero would be my wife.
Benedick. Is't come to this? In faith, hath not the world
one man but he will wear his cap with suspicion?
Shall I never see a bachelor of three-score again?
Go to, i' faith; an thou wilt needs thrust thy neck 180
into a yoke, wear the print of it and sigh away
Sundays. Look Don Pedro is returned to seek you.
[Re-enter DON PEDRO]
Don Pedro. What secret hath held you here, that you followed
not to Leonato's? 185
Benedick. I would your grace would constrain me to tell.
Don Pedro. I charge thee on thy allegiance.
Benedick. You hear, Count Claudio: I can be secret as a dumb
man; I would have you think so; but, on my
allegiance, mark you this, on my allegiance. He is 190
in love. With who? now that is your grace's part.
Mark how short his answer is;—With Hero, Leonato's
short daughter.
Claudio. If this were so, so were it uttered.
Benedick. Like the old tale, my lord: 'it is not so, nor 195
'twas not so, but, indeed, God forbid it should be
so.'
Claudio. If my passion change not shortly, God forbid it
should be otherwise.
Don Pedro. Amen, if you love her; for the lady is very well worthy. 200
Claudio. You speak this to fetch me in, my lord.
Don Pedro. By my troth, I speak my thought.
Claudio. And, in faith, my lord, I spoke mine.
Benedick. And, by my two faiths and troths, my lord, I spoke mine.
Claudio. That I love her, I feel. 205
Don Pedro. That she is worthy, I know.
Benedick. That I neither feel how she should be loved nor
know how she should be worthy, is the opinion that
fire cannot melt out of me: I will die in it at the stake.
Don Pedro. Thou wast ever an obstinate heretic in the despite 210
of beauty.
Claudio. And never could maintain his part but in the force
of his will.
Benedick. That a woman conceived me, I thank her; that she
brought me up, I likewise give her most humble 215
thanks: but that I will have a recheat winded in my
forehead, or hang my bugle in an invisible baldrick,
all women shall pardon me. Because I will not do
them the wrong to mistrust any, I will do myself the
right to trust none; and the fine is, for the which 220
I may go the finer, I will live a bachelor.
Don Pedro. I shall see thee, ere I die, look pale with love.
Benedick. With anger, with sickness, or with hunger, my lord,
not with love: prove that ever I lose more blood
with love than I will get again with drinking, pick 225
out mine eyes with a ballad-maker's pen and hang me
up at the door of a brothel-house for the sign of
blind Cupid.
Don Pedro. Well, if ever thou dost fall from this faith, thou
wilt prove a notable argument. 230
Benedick. If I do, hang me in a bottle like a cat and shoot
at me; and he that hits me, let him be clapped on
the shoulder, and called Adam.
Don Pedro. Well, as time shall try: 'In time the savage bull
doth bear the yoke.' 235
Benedick. The savage bull may; but if ever the sensible
Benedick bear it, pluck off the bull's horns and set
them in my forehead: and let me be vilely painted,
and in such great letters as they write 'Here is
good horse to hire,' let them signify under my sign 240
'Here you may see Benedick the married man.'
Claudio. If this should ever happen, thou wouldst be horn-mad.
Don Pedro. Nay, if Cupid have not spent all his quiver in
Venice, thou wilt quake for this shortly.
Benedick. I look for an earthquake too, then. 245
Don Pedro. Well, you temporize with the hours. In the
meantime, good Signior Benedick, repair to
Leonato's: commend me to him and tell him I will
not fail him at supper; for indeed he hath made
great preparation. 250
Benedick. I have almost matter enough in me for such an
embassage; and so I commit you—
Claudio. To the tuition of God: From my house, if I had it,—
Don Pedro. The sixth of July: Your loving friend, Benedick.
Benedick. Nay, mock not, mock not. The body of your 255
discourse is sometime guarded with fragments, and
the guards are but slightly basted on neither: ere
you flout old ends any further, examine your
conscience: and so I leave you.
[Exit]
Claudio. My liege, your highness now may do me good.
Don Pedro. My love is thine to teach: teach it but how,
And thou shalt see how apt it is to learn
Any hard lesson that may do thee good.
Claudio. Hath Leonato any son, my lord? 265
Don Pedro. No child but Hero; she's his only heir.
Dost thou affect her, Claudio?
Claudio. O, my lord,
When you went onward on this ended action,
I look'd upon her with a soldier's eye, 270
That liked, but had a rougher task in hand
Than to drive liking to the name of love:
But now I am return'd and that war-thoughts
Have left their places vacant, in their rooms
Come thronging soft and delicate desires, 275
All prompting me how fair young Hero is,
Saying, I liked her ere I went to wars.
Don Pedro. Thou wilt be like a lover presently
And tire the hearer with a book of words.
If thou dost love fair Hero, cherish it, 280
And I will break with her and with her father,
And thou shalt have her. Was't not to this end
That thou began'st to twist so fine a story?
Claudio. How sweetly you do minister to love,
That know love's grief by his complexion! 285
But lest my liking might too sudden seem,
I would have salved it with a longer treatise.
Don Pedro. What need the bridge much broader than the flood?
The fairest grant is the necessity.
Look, what will serve is fit: 'tis once, thou lovest, 290
And I will fit thee with the remedy.
I know we shall have revelling to-night:
I will assume thy part in some disguise
And tell fair Hero I am Claudio,
And in her bosom I'll unclasp my heart 295
And take her hearing prisoner with the force
And strong encounter of my amorous tale:
Then after to her father will I break;
And the conclusion is, she shall be thine.
In practise let us put it presently. 300
[Exeunt]
Act I, Scene 2
A room in LEONATO’s house.
[Enter LEONATO and ANTONIO, meeting]
Leonato. How now, brother! Where is my cousin, your son?
hath he provided this music?
Antonio. He is very busy about it. But, brother, I can tell 305
you strange news that you yet dreamt not of.
Leonato. Are they good?
Antonio. As the event stamps them: but they have a good
cover; they show well outward. The prince and Count
Claudio, walking in a thick-pleached alley in mine 310
orchard, were thus much overheard by a man of mine:
the prince discovered to Claudio that he loved my
niece your daughter and meant to acknowledge it
this night in a dance: and if he found her
accordant, he meant to take the present time by the 315
top and instantly break with you of it.
Leonato. Hath the fellow any wit that told you this?
Antonio. A good sharp fellow: I will send for him; and
question him yourself.
Leonato. No, no; we will hold it as a dream till it appear 320
itself: but I will acquaint my daughter withal,
that she may be the better prepared for an answer,
if peradventure this be true. Go you and tell her of it.
[Enter Attendants]
Cousins, you know what you have to do. O, I cry you 325
mercy, friend; go you with me, and I will use your
skill. Good cousin, have a care this busy time.
[Exeunt]
Act I, Scene 3
The same.
[Enter DON JOHN and CONRADE]
Conrade. What the good-year, my lord! why are you thus out 330
of measure sad?
Don John. There is no measure in the occasion that breeds;
therefore the sadness is without limit.
Conrade. You should hear reason.
Don John. And when I have heard it, what blessing brings it? 335
Conrade. If not a present remedy, at least a patient
sufferance.
Don John. I wonder that thou, being, as thou sayest thou art,
born under Saturn, goest about to apply a moral
medicine to a mortifying mischief. I cannot hide 340
what I am: I must be sad when I have cause and smile
at no man's jests, eat when I have stomach and wait
for no man's leisure, sleep when I am drowsy and
tend on no man's business, laugh when I am merry and
claw no man in his humour. 345
Conrade. Yea, but you must not make the full show of this
till you may do it without controlment. You have of
late stood out against your brother, and he hath
ta'en you newly into his grace; where it is
impossible you should take true root but by the 350
fair weather that you make yourself: it is needful
that you frame the season for your own harvest.
Don John. I had rather be a canker in a hedge than a rose in
his grace, and it better fits my blood to be
disdained of all than to fashion a carriage to rob 355
love from any: in this, though I cannot be said to
be a flattering honest man, it must not be denied
but I am a plain-dealing villain. I am trusted with
a muzzle and enfranchised with a clog; therefore I
have decreed not to sing in my cage. If I had my 360
mouth, I would bite; if I had my liberty, I would do
my liking: in the meantime let me be that I am and
seek not to alter me.
Conrade. Can you make no use of your discontent?
Don John. I make all use of it, for I use it only. 365
Who comes here?
[Enter BORACHIO]
What news, Borachio?
Borachio. I came yonder from a great supper: the prince your
brother is royally entertained by Leonato: and I 370
can give you intelligence of an intended marriage.
Don John. Will it serve for any model to build mischief on?
What is he for a fool that betroths himself to
unquietness?
Borachio. Marry, it is your brother's right hand. 375
Don John. Who? the most exquisite Claudio?
Borachio. Even he.
Don John. A proper squire! And who, and who? which way looks
he?
Borachio. Marry, on Hero, the daughter and heir of Leonato. 380
Don John. A very forward March-chick! How came you to this?
Borachio. Being entertained for a perfumer, as I was smoking a
musty room, comes me the prince and Claudio, hand
in hand in sad conference: I whipt me behind the
arras; and there heard it agreed upon that the 385
prince should woo Hero for himself, and having
obtained her, give her to Count Claudio.
Don John. Come, come, let us thither: this may prove food to
my displeasure. That young start-up hath all the
glory of my overthrow: if I can cross him any way, I 390
bless myself every way. You are both sure, and will assist me?
Conrade. To the death, my lord.
Don John. Let us to the great supper: their cheer is the
greater that I am subdued. Would the cook were of
my mind! Shall we go prove what's to be done? 395
Borachio. We'll wait upon your lordship.
[Exeunt] -
1
2016-11-13T11:17:40-08:00
Act I
2
As You Like It ACT 1
plain
2016-11-13T11:19:22-08:00
Scene 1
Enter Orlando and Adam.
ORLANDO As I remember, Adam, it was upon this
fashion bequeathed me by will but poor a thousand
crowns, and, as thou sayst, charged my brother on
his blessing to breed me well. And there begins my
sadness. My brother Jaques he keeps at school, and 5
report speaks goldenly of his profit. For my part, he
keeps me rustically at home, or, to speak more
properly, stays me here at home unkept; for call you
that “keeping,” for a gentleman of my birth, that
differs not from the stalling of an ox? His horses are 10
bred better, for, besides that they are fair with their
feeding, they are taught their manage and, to that
end, riders dearly hired. But I, his brother, gain
nothing under him but growth, for the which his
animals on his dunghills are as much bound to him 15
as I. Besides this nothing that he so plentifully gives
me, the something that nature gave me his countenance
seems to take from me. He lets me feed with
his hinds, bars me the place of a brother, and, as
much as in him lies, mines my gentility with my 20
education. This is it, Adam, that grieves me, and the
spirit of my father, which I think is within me,
begins to mutiny against this servitude. I will no
longer endure it, though yet I know no wise remedy
how to avoid it. 25
Enter Oliver.
ADAM Yonder comes my master, your brother.
ORLANDO Go apart, Adam, and thou shalt hear how he
will shake me up. Adam steps aside.
OLIVER Now, sir, what make you here?
ORLANDO Nothing. I am not taught to make anything. 30
OLIVER What mar you then, sir?
ORLANDO Marry, sir, I am helping you to mar that
which God made, a poor unworthy brother of
yours, with idleness.
OLIVER Marry, sir, be better employed, and be naught 35
awhile.
ORLANDO Shall I keep your hogs and eat husks with
them? What prodigal portion have I spent that I
should come to such penury?
OLIVER Know you where you are, sir? 40
ORLANDO O, sir, very well: here in your orchard.
OLIVER Know you before whom, sir?
ORLANDO Ay, better than him I am before knows me. I
know you are my eldest brother, and in the gentle
condition of blood you should so know me. The 45
courtesy of nations allows you my better in that you
are the first-born, but the same tradition takes not
away my blood, were there twenty brothers betwixt
us. I have as much of my father in me as you, albeit I
confess your coming before me is nearer to his 50
reverence.
OLIVER, threatening Orlando What, boy!
ORLANDO, holding off Oliver by the throat Come,
come, elder brother, you are too young in this.
OLIVER Wilt thou lay hands on me, villain? 55
ORLANDO I am no villain. I am the youngest son of Sir
Rowland de Boys. He was my father, and he is
thrice a villain that says such a father begot villains.
Wert thou not my brother, I would not take this
hand from thy throat till this other had pulled out 60
thy tongue for saying so. Thou hast railed on thyself.
ADAM, coming forward Sweet masters, be patient. For
your father’s remembrance, be at accord.
OLIVER, to Orlando Let me go, I say.
ORLANDO I will not till I please. You shall hear me. My 65
father charged you in his will to give me good
education. You have trained me like a peasant,
obscuring and hiding from me all gentlemanlike
qualities. The spirit of my father grows strong in
me, and I will no longer endure it. Therefore allow 70
me such exercises as may become a gentleman, or
give me the poor allottery my father left me by
testament. With that I will go buy my fortunes.
Orlando releases Oliver.
OLIVER And what wilt thou do—beg when that is
spent? Well, sir, get you in. I will not long be 75
troubled with you. You shall have some part of your
will. I pray you leave me.
ORLANDO I will no further offend you than becomes
me for my good.
OLIVER, to Adam Get you with him, you old dog. 80
ADAM Is “old dog” my reward? Most true, I have lost
my teeth in your service. God be with my old
master. He would not have spoke such a word.
Orlando and Adam exit.
OLIVER Is it even so? Begin you to grow upon me? I
will physic your rankness, and yet give no thousand 85
crowns neither.—Holla, Dennis!
Enter Dennis.
DENNIS Calls your Worship?
OLIVER Was not Charles, the Duke’s wrestler, here to
speak with me?
DENNIS So please you, he is here at the door and 90
importunes access to you.
OLIVER Call him in. Dennis exits. ’Twill be a good
way, and tomorrow the wrestling is.
Enter Charles.
CHARLES Good morrow to your Worship.
OLIVER Good Monsieur Charles, what’s the new news 95
at the new court?
CHARLES There’s no news at the court, sir, but the old
news. That is, the old duke is banished by his
younger brother the new duke, and three or four
loving lords have put themselves into voluntary 100
exile with him, whose lands and revenues enrich
the new duke. Therefore he gives them good leave
to wander.
OLIVER Can you tell if Rosalind, the Duke’s daughter,
be banished with her father? 105
CHARLES O, no, for the Duke’s daughter her cousin so
loves her, being ever from their cradles bred together,
that she would have followed her exile or have
died to stay behind her. She is at the court and no
less beloved of her uncle than his own daughter, 110
and never two ladies loved as they do.
OLIVER Where will the old duke live?
CHARLES They say he is already in the Forest of Arden,
and a many merry men with him; and there they
live like the old Robin Hood of England. They say 115
many young gentlemen flock to him every day and
fleet the time carelessly, as they did in the golden
world.
OLIVER What, you wrestle tomorrow before the new
duke? 120
CHARLES Marry, do I, sir, and I came to acquaint you
with a matter. I am given, sir, secretly to understand
that your younger brother Orlando hath a
disposition to come in disguised against me to try a
fall. Tomorrow, sir, I wrestle for my credit, and he 125
that escapes me without some broken limb shall
acquit him well. Your brother is but young and
tender, and for your love I would be loath to foil
him, as I must for my own honor if he come in.
Therefore, out of my love to you, I came hither to 130
acquaint you withal, that either you might stay him
from his intendment, or brook such disgrace well
as he shall run into, in that it is a thing of his own
search and altogether against my will.
OLIVER Charles, I thank thee for thy love to me, which 135
thou shalt find I will most kindly requite. I had
myself notice of my brother’s purpose herein, and
have by underhand means labored to dissuade him
from it; but he is resolute. I’ll tell thee, Charles, it is
the stubbornest young fellow of France, full of 140
ambition, an envious emulator of every man’s good
parts, a secret and villainous contriver against me
his natural brother. Therefore use thy discretion. I
had as lief thou didst break his neck as his finger.
And thou wert best look to ’t, for if thou dost him 145
any slight disgrace, or if he do not mightily grace
himself on thee, he will practice against thee by
poison, entrap thee by some treacherous device,
and never leave thee till he hath ta’en thy life by
some indirect means or other. For I assure thee— 150
and almost with tears I speak it—there is not one so
young and so villainous this day living. I speak but
brotherly of him, but should I anatomize him to
thee as he is, I must blush and weep, and thou must
look pale and wonder. 155
CHARLES I am heartily glad I came hither to you. If he
come tomorrow, I’ll give him his payment. If ever
he go alone again, I’ll never wrestle for prize more.
And so God keep your Worship.
OLIVER Farewell, good Charles. Charles exits. 160
Now will I stir this gamester. I hope I shall see an
end of him, for my soul—yet I know not why—
hates nothing more than he. Yet he’s gentle, never
schooled and yet learned, full of noble device, of all
sorts enchantingly beloved, and indeed so much in 165
the heart of the world, and especially of my own
people, who best know him, that I am altogether
misprized. But it shall not be so long; this wrestler
shall clear all. Nothing remains but that I kindle the
boy thither, which now I’ll go about. 170
He exits.
Scene 2
Enter Rosalind and Celia.
CELIA I pray thee, Rosalind, sweet my coz, be merry.
ROSALIND Dear Celia, I show more mirth than I am
mistress of, and would you yet I were merrier?
Unless you could teach me to forget a banished
father, you must not learn me how to remember 5
any extraordinary pleasure.
CELIA Herein I see thou lov’st me not with the full
weight that I love thee. If my uncle, thy banished
father, had banished thy uncle, the Duke my father,
so thou hadst been still with me, I could have taught 10
my love to take thy father for mine. So wouldst thou,
if the truth of thy love to me were so righteously
tempered as mine is to thee.
ROSALIND Well, I will forget the condition of my estate
to rejoice in yours. 15
CELIA You know my father hath no child but I, nor
none is like to have; and truly, when he dies, thou
shalt be his heir, for what he hath taken away from
thy father perforce, I will render thee again in
affection. By mine honor I will, and when I break 20
that oath, let me turn monster. Therefore, my sweet
Rose, my dear Rose, be merry.
ROSALIND From henceforth I will, coz, and devise
sports. Let me see—what think you of falling in
love? 25
CELIA Marry, I prithee do, to make sport withal; but
love no man in good earnest, nor no further in
sport neither than with safety of a pure blush thou
mayst in honor come off again.
ROSALIND What shall be our sport, then? 30
CELIA Let us sit and mock the good housewife Fortune
from her wheel, that her gifts may henceforth be
bestowed equally.
ROSALIND I would we could do so, for her benefits are
mightily misplaced, and the bountiful blind woman 35
doth most mistake in her gifts to women.
CELIA ’Tis true, for those that she makes fair she scarce
makes honest, and those that she makes honest she
makes very ill-favoredly.
ROSALIND Nay, now thou goest from Fortune’s office to 40
Nature’s. Fortune reigns in gifts of the world, not in
the lineaments of nature.
CELIA No? When Nature hath made a fair creature,
may she not by fortune fall into the fire?
Enter Touchstone.
Though Nature hath given us wit to flout at Fortune, 45
hath not Fortune sent in this fool to cut off the
argument?
ROSALIND Indeed, there is Fortune too hard for Nature,
when Fortune makes Nature’s natural the
cutter-off of Nature’s wit. 50
CELIA Peradventure this is not Fortune’s work neither,
but Nature’s, who perceiveth our natural wits too
dull to reason of such goddesses, and hath sent
this natural for our whetstone, for always the dullness
of the fool is the whetstone of the wits. To 55
Touchstone. How now, wit, whither wander you?
TOUCHSTONE Mistress, you must come away to your
father.
CELIA Were you made the messenger?
TOUCHSTONE No, by mine honor, but I was bid to come 60
for you.
ROSALIND Where learned you that oath, fool?
TOUCHSTONE Of a certain knight that swore by his
honor they were good pancakes, and swore by his
honor the mustard was naught. Now, I’ll stand to it, 65
the pancakes were naught and the mustard was
good, and yet was not the knight forsworn.
CELIA How prove you that in the great heap of your
knowledge?
ROSALIND Ay, marry, now unmuzzle your wisdom. 70
TOUCHSTONE Stand you both forth now: stroke your
chins, and swear by your beards that I am a knave.
CELIA By our beards (if we had them), thou art.
TOUCHSTONE By my knavery (if I had it), then I were.
But if you swear by that that is not, you are not 75
forsworn. No more was this knight swearing by his
honor, for he never had any, or if he had, he had
sworn it away before ever he saw those pancakes or
that mustard.
CELIA Prithee, who is ’t that thou mean’st? 80
TOUCHSTONE One that old Frederick, your father, loves.
CELIA My father’s love is enough to honor him.
Enough. Speak no more of him; you’ll be whipped
for taxation one of these days.
TOUCHSTONE The more pity that fools may not speak 85
wisely what wise men do foolishly.
CELIA By my troth, thou sayest true. For, since the little
wit that fools have was silenced, the little foolery
that wise men have makes a great show. Here
comes Monsieur Le Beau. 90
Enter Le Beau.
ROSALIND With his mouth full of news.
CELIA Which he will put on us as pigeons feed their
young.
ROSALIND Then shall we be news-crammed.
CELIA All the better. We shall be the more 95
marketable.—Bonjour, Monsieur Le Beau. What’s
the news?
LE BEAU Fair princess, you have lost much good sport.
CELIA Sport? Of what color?
LE BEAU What color, madam? How shall I answer you? 100
ROSALIND As wit and fortune will.
TOUCHSTONE Or as the destinies decrees.
CELIA Well said. That was laid on with a trowel.
TOUCHSTONE Nay, if I keep not my rank—
ROSALIND Thou losest thy old smell. 105
LE BEAU You amaze me, ladies. I would have told you of
good wrestling, which you have lost the sight of.
ROSALIND Yet tell us the manner of the wrestling.
LE BEAU I will tell you the beginning, and if it please
your Ladyships, you may see the end, for the best is 110
yet to do, and here, where you are, they are coming
to perform it.
CELIA Well, the beginning that is dead and buried.
LE BEAU There comes an old man and his three sons—
CELIA I could match this beginning with an old tale. 115
LE BEAU Three proper young men of excellent growth
and presence.
ROSALIND With bills on their necks: “Be it known unto
all men by these presents.”
LE BEAU The eldest of the three wrestled with Charles, 120
the Duke’s wrestler, which Charles in a moment
threw him and broke three of his ribs, that there is
little hope of life in him. So he served the second,
and so the third. Yonder they lie, the poor old man
their father making such pitiful dole over them that 125
all the beholders take his part with weeping.
ROSALIND Alas!
TOUCHSTONE But what is the sport, monsieur, that the
ladies have lost?
LE BEAU Why, this that I speak of. 130
TOUCHSTONE Thus men may grow wiser every day. It is
the first time that ever I heard breaking of ribs was
sport for ladies.
CELIA Or I, I promise thee.
ROSALIND But is there any else longs to see this broken 135
music in his sides? Is there yet another dotes upon
rib-breaking? Shall we see this wrestling, cousin?
LE BEAU You must if you stay here, for here is the place
appointed for the wrestling, and they are ready to
perform it. 140
CELIA Yonder sure they are coming. Let us now stay
and see it.
Flourish. Enter Duke Frederick, Lords, Orlando,
Charles, and Attendants.
DUKE FREDERICK Come on. Since the youth will not be
entreated, his own peril on his forwardness.
ROSALIND, to Le Beau Is yonder the man? 145
LE BEAU Even he, madam.
CELIA Alas, he is too young. Yet he looks successfully.
DUKE FREDERICK How now, daughter and cousin? Are
you crept hither to see the wrestling?
ROSALIND Ay, my liege, so please you give us leave. 150
DUKE FREDERICK You will take little delight in it, I can
tell you, there is such odds in the man. In pity of the
challenger’s youth, I would fain dissuade him, but
he will not be entreated. Speak to him, ladies; see if
you can move him. 155
CELIA Call him hither, good Monsieur Le Beau.
DUKE FREDERICK Do so. I’ll not be by.
He steps aside.
LE BEAU, to Orlando Monsieur the challenger, the
Princess calls for you.
ORLANDO I attend them with all respect and duty. 160
ROSALIND Young man, have you challenged Charles the
wrestler?
ORLANDO No, fair princess. He is the general challenger.
I come but in as others do, to try with him the
strength of my youth. 165
CELIA Young gentleman, your spirits are too bold for
your years. You have seen cruel proof of this man’s
strength. If you saw yourself with your eyes or knew
yourself with your judgment, the fear of your adventure
would counsel you to a more equal enterprise. 170
We pray you for your own sake to embrace your
own safety and give over this attempt.
ROSALIND Do, young sir. Your reputation shall not
therefore be misprized. We will make it our suit to
the Duke that the wrestling might not go forward. 175
ORLANDO I beseech you, punish me not with your hard
thoughts, wherein I confess me much guilty to deny
so fair and excellent ladies anything. But let your
fair eyes and gentle wishes go with me to my trial,
wherein, if I be foiled, there is but one shamed that 180
was never gracious; if killed, but one dead that is
willing to be so. I shall do my friends no wrong, for
I have none to lament me; the world no injury, for
in it I have nothing. Only in the world I fill up a
place which may be better supplied when I have 185
made it empty.
ROSALIND The little strength that I have, I would it
were with you.
CELIA And mine, to eke out hers.
ROSALIND Fare you well. Pray heaven I be deceived in 190
you.
CELIA Your heart’s desires be with you.
CHARLES Come, where is this young gallant that is so
desirous to lie with his mother Earth?
ORLANDO Ready, sir; but his will hath in it a more 195
modest working.
DUKE FREDERICK, coming forward You shall try but
one fall.
CHARLES No, I warrant your Grace you shall not entreat
him to a second, that have so mightily persuaded 200
him from a first.
ORLANDO You mean to mock me after, you should not
have mocked me before. But come your ways.
ROSALIND Now Hercules be thy speed, young man!
CELIA I would I were invisible, to catch the strong 205
fellow by the leg.
Orlando and Charles wrestle.
ROSALIND O excellent young man!
CELIA If I had a thunderbolt in mine eye, I can tell who
should down.
Orlando throws Charles. Shout.
DUKE FREDERICK No more, no more. 210
ORLANDO Yes, I beseech your Grace. I am not yet well
breathed.
DUKE FREDERICK How dost thou, Charles?
LE BEAU He cannot speak, my lord.
DUKE FREDERICK Bear him away. 215
Charles is carried off by Attendants.
What is thy name, young man?
ORLANDO Orlando, my liege, the youngest son of Sir
Rowland de Boys.
DUKE FREDERICK
I would thou hadst been son to some man else.
The world esteemed thy father honorable, 220
But I did find him still mine enemy.
Thou shouldst have better pleased me with this
deed
Hadst thou descended from another house.
But fare thee well. Thou art a gallant youth. 225
I would thou hadst told me of another father.
Duke exits with Touchstone, Le Beau,
Lords, and Attendants.
CELIA, to Rosalind
Were I my father, coz, would I do this?
ORLANDO
I am more proud to be Sir Rowland’s son,
His youngest son, and would not change that calling
To be adopted heir to Frederick. 230
ROSALIND, to Celia
My father loved Sir Rowland as his soul,
And all the world was of my father’s mind.
Had I before known this young man his son,
I should have given him tears unto entreaties
Ere he should thus have ventured. 235
CELIA Gentle cousin,
Let us go thank him and encourage him.
My father’s rough and envious disposition
Sticks me at heart.—Sir, you have well deserved.
If you do keep your promises in love 240
But justly, as you have exceeded all promise,
Your mistress shall be happy.
ROSALIND, giving Orlando a chain from her neck
Gentleman,
Wear this for me—one out of suits with Fortune,
That could give more but that her hand lacks 245
means.—
Shall we go, coz?
CELIA Ay.—Fare you well, fair gentleman.
ORLANDO, aside
Can I not say “I thank you”? My better parts
Are all thrown down, and that which here stands up 250
Is but a quintain, a mere lifeless block.
ROSALIND, to Celia
He calls us back. My pride fell with my fortunes.
I’ll ask him what he would.—Did you call, sir?
Sir, you have wrestled well and overthrown
More than your enemies. 255
CELIA Will you go, coz?
ROSALIND Have with you. To Orlando. Fare you well.
Rosalind and Celia exit.
ORLANDO
What passion hangs these weights upon my tongue?
I cannot speak to her, yet she urged conference.
O poor Orlando! Thou art overthrown. 260
Or Charles or something weaker masters thee.
Enter Le Beau.
LE BEAU
Good sir, I do in friendship counsel you
To leave this place. Albeit you have deserved
High commendation, true applause, and love,
Yet such is now the Duke’s condition 265
That he misconsters all that you have done.
The Duke is humorous. What he is indeed
More suits you to conceive than I to speak of.
ORLANDO
I thank you, sir, and pray you tell me this:
Which of the two was daughter of the duke 270
That here was at the wrestling?
LE BEAU
Neither his daughter, if we judge by manners,
But yet indeed the smaller is his daughter.
The other is daughter to the banished duke,
And here detained by her usurping uncle 275
To keep his daughter company, whose loves
Are dearer than the natural bond of sisters.
But I can tell you that of late this duke
Hath ta’en displeasure ’gainst his gentle niece,
Grounded upon no other argument 280
But that the people praise her for her virtues
And pity her for her good father’s sake;
And, on my life, his malice ’gainst the lady
Will suddenly break forth. Sir, fare you well.
Hereafter, in a better world than this, 285
I shall desire more love and knowledge of you.
ORLANDO
I rest much bounden to you. Fare you well.
Le Beau exits.
Thus must I from the smoke into the smother,
From tyrant duke unto a tyrant brother.
But heavenly Rosalind! 290
He exits.
Scene 3
Enter Celia and Rosalind.
CELIA Why, cousin! Why, Rosalind! Cupid have mercy,
not a word?
ROSALIND Not one to throw at a dog.
CELIA No, thy words are too precious to be cast away
upon curs. Throw some of them at me. Come, lame 5
me with reasons.
ROSALIND Then there were two cousins laid up, when
the one should be lamed with reasons, and the
other mad without any.
CELIA But is all this for your father? 10
ROSALIND No, some of it is for my child’s father. O,
how full of briers is this working-day world!
CELIA They are but burs, cousin, thrown upon thee in
holiday foolery. If we walk not in the trodden paths,
our very petticoats will catch them. 15
ROSALIND I could shake them off my coat. These burs
are in my heart.
CELIA Hem them away.
ROSALIND I would try, if I could cry “hem” and have
him. 20
CELIA Come, come, wrestle with thy affections.
ROSALIND O, they take the part of a better wrestler
than myself.
CELIA O, a good wish upon you. You will try in time, in
despite of a fall. But turning these jests out of 25
service, let us talk in good earnest. Is it possible on
such a sudden you should fall into so strong a liking
with old Sir Rowland’s youngest son?
ROSALIND The Duke my father loved his father dearly.
CELIA Doth it therefore ensue that you should love his 30
son dearly? By this kind of chase I should hate him,
for my father hated his father dearly. Yet I hate not
Orlando.
ROSALIND No, faith, hate him not, for my sake.
CELIA Why should I not? Doth he not deserve well? 35
ROSALIND Let me love him for that, and do you love
him because I do.
Enter Duke Frederick with Lords.
Look, here comes the Duke.
CELIA With his eyes full of anger.
DUKE FREDERICK, to Rosalind
Mistress, dispatch you with your safest haste, 40
And get you from our court.
ROSALIND Me, uncle?
DUKE FREDERICK You, cousin.
Within these ten days if that thou beest found
So near our public court as twenty miles, 45
Thou diest for it.
ROSALIND I do beseech your Grace,
Let me the knowledge of my fault bear with me.
If with myself I hold intelligence
Or have acquaintance with mine own desires, 50
If that I do not dream or be not frantic—
As I do trust I am not—then, dear uncle,
Never so much as in a thought unborn
Did I offend your Highness.
DUKE FREDERICK Thus do all traitors. 55
If their purgation did consist in words,
They are as innocent as grace itself.
Let it suffice thee that I trust thee not.
ROSALIND
Yet your mistrust cannot make me a traitor.
Tell me whereon the likelihood depends. 60
DUKE FREDERICK
Thou art thy father’s daughter. There’s enough.
ROSALIND
So was I when your Highness took his dukedom.
So was I when your Highness banished him.
Treason is not inherited, my lord,
Or if we did derive it from our friends, 65
What’s that to me? My father was no traitor.
Then, good my liege, mistake me not so much
To think my poverty is treacherous.
CELIA Dear sovereign, hear me speak.
DUKE FREDERICK
Ay, Celia, we stayed her for your sake; 70
Else had she with her father ranged along.
CELIA
I did not then entreat to have her stay.
It was your pleasure and your own remorse.
I was too young that time to value her,
But now I know her. If she be a traitor, 75
Why, so am I. We still have slept together,
Rose at an instant, learned, played, eat together,
And, wheresoe’er we went, like Juno’s swans
Still we went coupled and inseparable.
DUKE FREDERICK
She is too subtle for thee, and her smoothness, 80
Her very silence, and her patience
Speak to the people, and they pity her.
Thou art a fool. She robs thee of thy name,
And thou wilt show more bright and seem more
virtuous 85
When she is gone. Then open not thy lips.
Firm and irrevocable is my doom
Which I have passed upon her. She is banished.
CELIA
Pronounce that sentence then on me, my liege.
I cannot live out of her company. 90
DUKE FREDERICK
You are a fool.—You, niece, provide yourself.
If you outstay the time, upon mine honor
And in the greatness of my word, you die.
Duke and Lords exit.
CELIA
O my poor Rosalind, whither wilt thou go?
Wilt thou change fathers? I will give thee mine. 95
I charge thee, be not thou more grieved than I am.
ROSALIND I have more cause.
CELIA Thou hast not, cousin.
Prithee, be cheerful. Know’st thou not the Duke
Hath banished me, his daughter? 100
ROSALIND That he hath not.
CELIA
No, hath not? Rosalind lacks then the love
Which teacheth thee that thou and I am one.
Shall we be sundered? Shall we part, sweet girl?
No, let my father seek another heir. 105
Therefore devise with me how we may fly,
Whither to go, and what to bear with us,
And do not seek to take your change upon you,
To bear your griefs yourself and leave me out.
For, by this heaven, now at our sorrows pale, 110
Say what thou canst, I’ll go along with thee.
ROSALIND Why, whither shall we go?
CELIA
To seek my uncle in the Forest of Arden.
ROSALIND
Alas, what danger will it be to us,
Maids as we are, to travel forth so far? 115
Beauty provoketh thieves sooner than gold.
CELIA
I’ll put myself in poor and mean attire,
And with a kind of umber smirch my face.
The like do you. So shall we pass along
And never stir assailants. 120
ROSALIND Were it not better,
Because that I am more than common tall,
That I did suit me all points like a man?
A gallant curtal-ax upon my thigh,
A boar-spear in my hand, and in my heart 125
Lie there what hidden woman’s fear there will,
We’ll have a swashing and a martial outside—
As many other mannish cowards have
That do outface it with their semblances.
CELIA
What shall I call thee when thou art a man? 130
ROSALIND
I’ll have no worse a name than Jove’s own page,
And therefore look you call me Ganymede.
But what will you be called?
CELIA
Something that hath a reference to my state:
No longer Celia, but Aliena. 135
ROSALIND
But, cousin, what if we assayed to steal
The clownish fool out of your father’s court?
Would he not be a comfort to our travel?
CELIA
He’ll go along o’er the wide world with me.
Leave me alone to woo him. Let’s away 140
And get our jewels and our wealth together,
Devise the fittest time and safest way
To hide us from pursuit that will be made
After my flight. Now go we in content
To liberty, and not to banishment. 145
They exit.