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Taken from the Complete Works of William Shakespeare

As You Like It


ACT V, SCENE I. The forest of Arden

Aut. Ay, I know who ’tis; he hath no in-

terest in me in the world: here comes the man

you mean.

Touch. It is meat and drink to me to see a

clown: by my troth, we that have good wits

have much to answer for; we shall be flouting;

we cannot hold.

Will. Good even, Audrey.

Aud. God ye good even, William.

Will. And good even to you, sir.

Touch. Good even, gentle friend. Cover thy

head, cover thy head; nay, prithee, be cov-

ered. How old are you, friend?

Will. Five and twenty, sir.

Touch. A ripe age. Is thy name William?

Will. William, sir.                    [here?

Touch. A fair name. Wast born i’ the forest

Will. Ay, sir, I thank God.        [rich?

Touch. ‘Thank God;’ a good answer. Art

Will. Faith, sir, so so.

Touch. ‘So so’ is good, very good, very excel-

lent good; and yet it is not; it is but so-so.

Art thou wise?

Will. Ay, sir, I have a pretty wit.

Touch. Why, thou sayest well. I do now re-

member a saying; ‘The fool doth think he is wise,

but the wise man knows himself to be a fool.’

The heathen philosopher, when he had a desire

to eat a grape, would open his lips when he put

it into his mouth; meaning thereby that grapes

were made to eat and lips to open. You do love

this maid?

Will. I do, sir.

Touch. Give me your hand. Art thou learned?

Will. No, sir.

Touch. Then learn this of me: to have, is to

have; for it is a figure in rhetoric that drink,

being poured out of a cup into a glass, by filling

the one doth empty the other; for all your

writers do consent that ipse is he: now, you are

not ipse, for I am he.

Will. Which he, sir?

Touch. He, sir, that must marry this woman.

Therefore, you clown, abandon,–which is in

the vulgar leave,–the society,–which in the

boorish is company,–of this female,–which in

the common is woman; which together is,

abandon the society of this female, or, clown,

thou perishest; or, to thy better understanding,

diest; 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 thee in

faction; I will o’errun thee with policy; I will

kill thee a hundred and fifty ways: therefore

tremble and depart.

Aud. Do, good William.

Will. God rest you merry, sir.


(On 3/27/15 – Join me in the continuation of Shakespeare’s 

“As You Like It”

Taken from the Complete Works of William Shakespeare

As You Like It


SCENE III. Another part of the forest.

Ros. But, for the bloody napkin?

Oli.                                          By and by.

When from the first to last betwixt us two

Tears our recountments had most kindly bath’d,

As how I came into that desert place:–

In brief, he led me to the gentle duke,

Who gave me fresh array and entertainment,

Committing me unto my brother’s love;

Who led me instantly unto his cave,

There stripp’d himself, and here upon his arm

The lioness had torn some flesh away,

Which all this while had bled; and now he fainted

And cried, in fainting, upon Ros..

Brief, I recover’d him, bound up his wound;

And, after some small space, being strong at


He sent me hither, stranger as I am,

To tell this story, that you might excuse

His broken promise, and to give this napkin

Dyed in his blood unto the shepherd youth

That he in sport doth call his Rosalind.

ROS. swoons

Cel. Why, how now, Ganymede! sweet

Ganymede!                 [ROSALIND faints.

Oli. Many will swoon when they do look on


Cel. There is more in it. Cousin Gany-


Oli. Look, he recovers.

Ros. I would I were at home.

Cel. We’ll lead you thither.

I pray you, will you take him by the arm?

Oli. Be of good cheer, youth:— you a man?—

you lack a man’s heart.

Ros. I do so, I confess it. Ah, sirrah, a body

would think this was well counterfeited! I pray

you, tell your brother how well I counterfeited.


Oli. This was not counterfeit: there is too

great testimony in your complexion that it was

a passion of earnest.

Ros. Counterfeit, I assure you.

Oli. Well then, take a good heart and

counterfeit to be a man.

Ros. So I do: but, i’ faith, I should have been

a woman by right.

Cel. Come, you look paler and paler: pray

you, draw homewards. Good sir, go with us.

Oli. That will I, for I must bear answer back

How you excuse my brother, Rosalind.

Ros. I shall devise something: but, I pray

you, commend my counterfeiting to him.— Will

you go?



SCENE I. The forest of Arden


Touch. We shall find a time, Audrey;

patience, gentle Audrey.

Aud. Faith, the priest was good enough, for

all the old gentleman’s saying.

Touch. A most wicked Sir Oliver, Audrey, a

most vile Martext. But, Audrey, there is a

youth here in the forest lays claim to you.

(On 3/27/15 – Join me in the continuation of Shakespeare’s 

“As You Like It”

Taken from the Complete Works of William Shakespeare

As You Like It


SCENE III. Another part of the forest.

Oli. Orlando doth commend him to you


And to that youth he calls his Rosalind

He sends this bloody napkin. Are you he?

Ros. I am: what must we understand by


Oli. Some of my shame; if you will know of

What man I am, and how, and why, and where


This handkercher was stain’d.

Cel. I pray you, tell it.

Oli. When last the young Orlando parted

from you

He left a promise to return again

Within an hour, and pacing through the forest,

Chewing the food of sweet and bitter fancy,

Lo, what befell! he threw his eye aside,

And mark what object did present itself!

Under an oak, whose boughs were moss’d with


And high top bald with dry antiquity,

A wretched ragged man, o’ergrown with hair,

Lay sleeping on his back: about his neck

A green and gilded snake had wreathed itself,

Who with her head nimble in threats ap-


The opening of his mouth; but suddenly,

Seeing Orlando, it unlink’d itself,

And with indented glides did slip away

Into a bush: under which bush’s shade

A lioness, with udders all drawn dry,

Lay couching, head on ground, with cat-like

watch,                                               [’tis

When that the sleeping man should stir; for

The royal disposition of that beast

To prey on nothing that doth seem as dead:

This seen, Orlando did approach the man

And found it was his brother, his elder brother.

Cel. O, I have heard him speak of that same


And he did render him the most unnatural

That lived amongst men.

Oli. And well he might so do,

For well I know he was unnatural.      [there,

Ros. But, to Orlando: did he leave him

Food to the suck’d and hungry lioness?

Oli. Twice did he turn his back and pur-

posed so;

But kindness, nobler ever than revenge,

And nature, stronger than his just occasion,

Made him give battle to the lioness,

Who quickly fell before him: in which hurtling

From miserable slumber I awaked.

Cel. Are you his brother?

Ros. Wast you he rescued?

Cel. Was’t you that did so oft contrive to

kill him?

Oli. ‘Twas I; but ’tis not I I do not shame

To tell you what I was, since my conversion

So sweetly tastes, being the thing I am.

(On 3/26/15 – Join me in the continuation of Shakespeare’s 

“As You Like It”

Taken from the Complete Works of William Shakespeare

As You Like It


SCENE III. Another part of the forest.

Meaning me a beast.—

If the scorn of your bright eyne
Have power to raise such love in mine,
Alack, in me what strange effect
Would they work in mild aspect!
Whiles you chid me, I did love;
How then might your prayers move!
He that brings this love to thee
Little knows this love in me:
And by him seal up thy mind;
Whether that thy youth and kind
Will the faithful offer take
Of me and all that I can make;
Or else by him my love deny,
And then I’ll study how to die.

Sil. Call you this chiding?

Cel. Alas, poor shepherd!

Ros. Do you pity him? no, he deserves no

pity. Wilt thou love such a woman?—What,

to make thee an instrument and play false

strains upon thee! not to be endured!—Well,

go your way to her, for I see love hath made

thee a tame snake, and say this to her:—that if she

love me, I charge her to love thee; if she

will not, I will never have her unless thou en-

treat for her. If you be a true lover, hence,

and not a word; for here comes more company.



Oli. Good morrow, fair ones: pray you, if

you know,

Where in the purlieus of this forest stands

A sheep-cote fenced about with olive trees?

Cel. West of this place, down in the neigh-

bour bottom:

The rank of osiers by the murmuring stream

Left on your right hand brings you to the


But at this hour the house doth keep itself;

There’s none within.

Oli. If that an eye may profit by a tongue,

Then should I know you by description;

Such garments and such years: ‘The boy is fair,

Of female favour, and bestows himself

Like a ripe sister: the woman low

And browner than her brother.’ Are not you

The owner of the house I did inquire for?

Cel. It is no boast, being ask’d, to say we are.

(On 3/25/15 – Join me in the continuation of Shakespeare’s 

“As You Like It”

Taken from the Complete Works of William Shakespeare

As You Like It


ACT IV, SCENE II. Another part of the Forest

Enter JAQUES, and Lords, in the habit of


Jaq. Which is he that killed the deer?

Lord. Sir, it was I.

Jaq. Let’s present him to the duke, like a

Roman conqueror; and it would do well to set

the deer’s horns upon his head, for a branch of

victory. Have you no song, forester, for this


For. Yes, sir.

Jaq. Sing it: ’tis no matter how it be in tune,

so it make noise enough.


1. What shall he have that kill’d the deer?
2. His leather skin and horns to wear.
1. Then sing him home;

              The rest shall bear this burden

Take thou no scorn to wear the horn;
It was a crest ere thou wast born:
1. Thy father’s father wore it,
2. And thy father bore it:
All. The horn, the horn, the lusty horn
Is not a thing to laugh to scorn.


SCENE III. Another part of the forest.


Ros. How say you now? Is it not past two

o’clock? and here much Orlando!

Cel. I warrant you, with pure love and

troubled brain, he hath ta’en his bow and ar-

rows and is gone forth to sleep. Look, who

comes here.


Sil. My errand is to you, fair youth;—

My gentle Phebe bid me give you this:

[Giving a letter.

I know not the contents; but, as I guess
By the stern brow and waspish action
Which she did use as she was writing of it,
It bears an angry tenor: pardon me:
I am but as a guiltless messenger.   [letter

Ros. Patience herself would startle at this

And play the swaggerer; bear this, bear all:
She says I am not fair, that I lack manners;
She calls me proud, and that she could not love

Were man as rare as phoenix. ‘Od’s my will!
Her love is not the hare that I do hunt:
Why writes she so to me? Well, shepherd,


This is a letter of your own device.

Sil. No, I protest, I know not the contents:

Phebe did write it.

Ros.                Come, come, you are a fool

And turn’d into the extremity of love.
I saw her hand: she has a leathern hand.
A freestone-colour’d hand; I verily did think
That her old gloves were on, but ’twas her

She has a huswife’s hand; but that’s no matter:
I say she never did invent this letter;
This is a man’s invention and his hand.

Sil. Sure, it is hers.

Ros. Why, ’tis a boisterous and a cruel style.

A style for-challengers; why, she defies me,
Like Turk to Christian: women’s gentle brain
Could not drop forth such giant-rude invention,
Such Ethiope words, blacker in their effect
Than in their countenance. Will you hear the


Sil. So please you, for I never heard it yet;

Yet heard too much of Phebe’s cruelty.

Ros. She Phebes me: mark how the tyrant writes.


Art thou god to shepherd turn’d,
That a maiden’s heart hath burn’d?
Can a woman rail thus?

Sil. Call you this railing?

Ros. Why, thy godhead laid apart,

Warr’st thou with a woman’s heart?
Did you ever hear such railing?
Whiles the eye of man did woo me,
That could do no vengeance to me.

(On 3/24/15 – Join me in the continuation of Shakespeare’s 

“As You Like It”

Taken from the Complete Works of William Shakespeare

As You Like It


ACT IV, SCENE I. Forest of Arden

Taken from the Complete Works of William Shakespeare

As You Like It


ACT IV, SCENE I. Forest of Arden

Ros. Nay, you might keep that cheque for it

till you met your wife’s wit going to your neigh

bour’s bed.                                         [that?

Orl. And what wit could wit have to excuse

Ros. Marry, to say she came to seek you

there. You shall never take her without her

answer, unless you take her without her tongue.

O, that woman that cannot make her fault her

husband’s occasion, let her never nurse her

child herself, for she will breed it like a fool.

Orl. For these two hours, Rosalind, I will

leave thee.                                     [hours.

Ros. Alas! dear love, I cannot lack thee two

Orl. I must attend the duke at dinner: by

two o’clock I will be with thee again.

Ros. Ay, go your ways, go your ways; I

knew what you would prove: my friends told

me as much, and I thought no less:— that

flattering tongue of yours won me:— ’tis but

one cast away, and so, come, death!—Two

o’clock is your hour?

Orl. Ay, sweet Rosalind.

Ros. By my troth, and in good earnest, and

so God mend me, and by all pretty oaths that

are not dangerous, if you break one jot of your

promise or come one minute behind your hour,

I will think you the most pathetical break-

promise and the most hollow lover and the

most unworthy of her you call Rosalind that

may be chosen out of the gross band of the un-

faithful: therefore beware my censure and

keep your promise.

Orl. With no less religion than if thou wert

indeed my Rosalind.: so adieu!

Ros. Well, Time is the old justice that ex-

amines all such offenders, and let Time try:



Cel. You have simply misused our sex in

your love-prate: we must have your doublet

and hose plucked over your head, and show the

world what the bird hath done to her own nest.

Ros. O coz, coz, coz, my pretty little coz,

that thou didst know how many fathom deep I

am in love! But it cannot be sounded: my

affection hath an unknown bottom, like the

bay of Portugal.

Cel. Or rather, bottomless, that as fast as

you pour affection in, it runs out.

Ros. No, that same wicked bastard of Venus

that was begot of thought, conceived of spleen,

and born of madness, that blind rascally boy,

that abuses every one’s eyes because his own

are out, let him be judge how deep I am in love:

I’ll tell thee, Aliena, I cannot be out of the

sight of Orlando: I’ll go find a shadow and sigh

till he come.

Cel. And I’ll sleep.                            Exeunt

(On 3/23/15 – Join me in the continuation of Shakespeare’s 

“As You Like It”

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