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As You Like It: Act 3, Scene 2

As You Like It
Act 3, Scene 2

The Forest of Arden.

  1. Enter Orlando with a paper.

Orlando

2 - 11
  1. Hang there, my verse, in witness of my love,
  2. And thou, thrice-crowned queen of night, survey
  3. With thy chaste eye, from thy pale sphere above,
  4. Thy huntress’ name that my full life doth sway.
  5. O Rosalind, these trees shall be my books,
  6. And in their barks my thoughts I’ll character,
  7. That every eye which in this forest looks
  8. Shall see thy virtue witness’d every where.
  9. Run, run, Orlando, carve on every tree
  10. The fair, the chaste, and unexpressive she.
  1. Exit.
  1. Enter Corin and Clown (Touchstone).

Corin

14
  1. And how like you this shepherd’s life, Master Touchstone?

Touchstone

15 - 23
  1. Truly, shepherd, in respect of itself, it is a good life;
  2. but in respect that it is a shepherd’s life, it is naught.
  3. In respect that it is solitary, I like it very well; but in
  4. respect that it is private, it is a very vild life. Now in
  5. respect it is in the fields, it pleaseth me well; but in
  6. respect it is not in the court, it is tedious. As it is a
  7. spare life (look you) it fits my humor well; but as there is
  8. no more plenty in it, it goes much against my stomach. Hast
  9. any philosophy in thee, shepherd?

Corin

24 - 30
  1. No more but that I know the more one sickens the worse at
  2. ease he is; and that he that wants money, means, and content
  3. is without three good friends; that the property of rain is
  4. to wet and fire to burn; that good pasture makes fat sheep;
  5. and that a great cause of the night is lack of the sun; that
  6. he that hath learn’d no wit by nature, nor art, may complain
  7. of good breeding, or comes of a very dull kindred.

Touchstone

31 - 32
  1. Such a one is a natural philosopher. Wast ever in court,
  2. shepherd?

Corin

33
  1. No, truly.

Touchstone

34
  1. Then thou art damn’d.

Corin

35
  1. Nay, I hope.

Touchstone

36 - 37
  1. Truly, thou art damn’d, like an ill-roasted egg, all on one
  2. side.

Corin

38
  1. For not being at court? Your reason.

Touchstone

39 - 42
  1. Why, if thou never wast at court, thou never saw’st good
  2. manners; if thou never saw’st good manners, then thy manners
  3. must be wicked, and wickedness is sin, and sin is damnation.
  4. Thou art in a parlous state, shepherd.

Corin

43 - 47
  1. Not a whit, Touchstone. Those that are good manners at the
  2. court are as ridiculous in the country as the behavior of
  3. the country is most mockable at the court. You told me you
  4. salute not at the court but you kiss your hands; that
  5. courtesy would be uncleanly if courtiers were shepherds.

Touchstone

48
  1. Instance, briefly; come, instance.

Corin

49 - 50
  1. Why, we are still handling our ewes, and their fells you
  2. know are greasy.

Touchstone

51 - 53
  1. Why, do not your courtier’s hands sweat? And is not the
  2. grease of a mutton as wholesome as the sweat of a man?
  3. Shallow, shallow. A better instance, I say; come.

Corin

54
  1. Besides, our hands are hard.

Touchstone

55 - 56
  1. Your lips will feel them the sooner. Shallow again. A more
  2. sounder instance, come.

Corin

57 - 59
  1. And they are often tarr’d over with the surgery of our
  2. sheep; and would you have us kiss tar? The courtier’s hands
  3. are perfum’d with civet.

Touchstone

60 - 63
  1. Most shallow man! Thou worm’s-meat, in respect of a good
  2. piece of flesh indeed! Learn of the wise, and perpend: civet
  3. is of a baser birth than tar, the very uncleanly flux of a
  4. cat. Mend the instance, shepherd.

Corin

64
  1. You have too courtly a wit for me, I’ll rest.

Touchstone

65 - 66
  1. Wilt thou rest damn’d? God help thee, shallow man! God make
  2. incision in thee, thou art raw.

Corin

67 - 70
  1. Sir, I am a true laborer: I earn that I eat, get that I
  2. wear, owe no man hate, envy no man’s happiness, glad of
  3. other men’s good, content with my harm, and the greatest of
  4. my pride is to see my ewes graze and my lambs suck.

Touchstone

71 - 77
  1. That is another simple sin in you, to bring the ewes and the
  2. rams together, and to offer to get your living by the
  3. copulation of cattle; to be bawd to a bell-wether, and to
  4. betray a she-lamb of a twelvemonth to a crooked-pated old
  5. cuckoldly ram, out of all reasonable match. If thou beest
  6. not damn’d for this, the devil himself will have no
  7. shepherds; I cannot see else how thou shouldst scape.

Corin

78
  1. Here comes young Master Ganymede, my new mistress’s brother.
  1. Enter Rosalind with a paper, reading.

Rosalind

80 - 87
  1. From the east to western Inde,
  2. No jewel is like Rosalind.
  3. Her worth, being mounted on the wind,
  4. Through all the world bears Rosalind.
  5. All the pictures fairest lin’d
  6. Are but black to Rosalind.
  7. Let no face be kept in mind
  8. But the fair of Rosalind.”

Touchstone

88 - 90
  1. I’ll rhyme you so eight years together, dinners and suppers
  2. and sleeping-hours excepted. It is the right butter-women’s
  3. rank to market.

Rosalind

91
  1. Out, fool!

Touchstone

92 - 106
  1. For a taste:
  2. If a hart do lack a hind,
  3. Let him seek out Rosalind.
  4. If the cat will after kind,
  5. So be sure will Rosalind.
  6. Wint’red garments must be lin’d,
  7. So must slender Rosalind.
  8. They that reap must sheaf and bind,
  9. Then to cart with Rosalind.
  10. Sweetest nut hath sourest rind,
  11. Such a nut is Rosalind.
  12. He that sweetest rose will find,
  13. Must find love’s prick and Rosalind.
  14. This is the very false gallop of verses; why do you infect
  15. yourself with them?

Rosalind

107
  1. Peace, you dull fool, I found them on a tree.

Touchstone

108
  1. Truly, the tree yields bad fruit.

Rosalind

109 - 112
  1. I’ll graff it with you, and then I shall graff it with a
  2. medlar. Then it will be the earliest fruit i’ th’ country;
  3. for you’ll be rotten ere you be half ripe, and that’s the
  4. right virtue of the medlar.

Touchstone

113 - 114
  1. You have said; but whether wisely or no, let the forest
  2. judge.
  1. Enter Celia with a writing.

Rosalind

116 - 117
  1. Peace,
  2. Here comes my sister reading, stand aside.

Celia

118 - 148
  1. Reads.
  2. Why should this a desert be?
  3. For it is unpeopled? No!
  4. Tongues I’ll hang on every tree,
  5. That shall civil sayings show:
  6. Some, how brief the life of man
  7. Runs his erring pilgrimage,
  8. That the stretching of a span
  9. Buckles in his sum of age;
  10. Some, of violated vows
  11. ’Twixt the souls of friend and friend;
  12. But upon the fairest boughs,
  13. Or at every sentence end,
  14. Will I Rosalinda’ write,
  15. Teaching all that read to know
  16. The quintessence of every sprite
  17. Heaven would in little show.
  18. Therefore heaven Nature charg’d
  19. That one body should be fill’d
  20. With all graces wide-enlarg’d.
  21. Nature presently distill’d
  22. Helen’s cheek, but not her heart,
  23. Cleopatra’s majesty,
  24. Atalanta’s better part,
  25. Sad Lucretia’s modesty.
  26. Thus Rosalind of many parts
  27. By heavenly synod was devis’d,
  28. Of many faces, eyes, and hearts,
  29. To have the touches dearest priz’d.
  30. Heaven would that she these gifts should have,
  31. And I to live and die her slave.”

Rosalind

149 - 151
  1. O most gentle Jupiter, what tedious homily of love have you
  2. wearied your parishioners withal, and never cried, Have
  3. patience, good people!”

Celia

152 - 153
  1. How now? Back, friends! Shepherd, go off a little. Go with
  2. him, sirrah.

Touchstone

154 - 155
  1. Come, shepherd, let us make an honorable retreat, though not
  2. with bag and baggage, yet with scrip and scrippage.
  1. Exit with Corin.

Celia

157
  1. Didst thou hear these verses?

Rosalind

158 - 159
  1. O yes, I heard them all, and more too, for some of them had
  2. in them more feet than the verses would bear.

Celia

160
  1. That’s no matter; the feet might bear the verses.

Rosalind

161 - 162
  1. Ay, but the feet were lame, and could not bear themselves
  2. without the verse, and therefore stood lamely in the verse.

Celia

163 - 164
  1. But didst thou hear without wondering how thy name should be
  2. hang’d and carv’d upon these trees?

Rosalind

165 - 168
  1. I was seven of the nine days out of the wonder before you
  2. came; for look here what I found on a palm tree. I was never
  3. so berhym’d since Pythagoras’ time, that I was an Irish rat,
  4. which I can hardly remember.

Celia

169
  1. Trow you who hath done this?

Rosalind

170
  1. Is it a man?

Celia

171 - 172
  1. And a chain, that you once wore, about his neck. Change you
  2. color?

Rosalind

173
  1. I prithee who?

Celia

174 - 175
  1. O Lord, Lord, it is a hard matter for friends to meet; but
  2. mountains may be remov’d with earthquakes, and so encounter.

Rosalind

176
  1. Nay, but who is it?

Celia

177
  1. Is it possible?

Rosalind

178 - 179
  1. Nay, I prithee now, with most petitionary vehemence, tell me
  2. who it is.

Celia

180 - 181
  1. O wonderful, wonderful, and most wonderful wonderful! And
  2. yet again wonderful, and after that, out of all hooping!

Rosalind

182 - 189
  1. Good my complexion, dost thou think, though I am caparison’d
  2. like a man, I have a doublet and hose in my disposition? One
  3. inch of delay more is a South-sea of discovery. I prithee
  4. tell me who is it quickly, and speak apace. I would thou
  5. couldst stammer, that thou mightst pour this conceal’d man
  6. out of thy mouth, as wine comes out of a narrow-mouth’d
  7. bottle, either too much at once, or none at all. I prithee
  8. take the cork out of thy mouth that I may drink thy tidings.

Celia

190
  1. So you may put a man in your belly.

Rosalind

191 - 192
  1. Is he of God’s making? What manner of man? Is his head worth
  2. a hat? Or his chin worth a beard?

Celia

193
  1. Nay, he hath but a little beard.

Rosalind

194 - 196
  1. Why, God will send more, if the man will be thankful. Let me
  2. stay the growth of his beard, if thou delay me not the
  3. knowledge of his chin.

Celia

197 - 198
  1. It is young Orlando, that tripp’d up the wrestler’s heels,
  2. and your heart, both in an instant.

Rosalind

199 - 200
  1. Nay, but the devil take mocking. Speak sad brow and true
  2. maid.

Celia

201
  1. I’ faith, coz, ’tis he.

Rosalind

202
  1. Orlando?

Celia

203
  1. Orlando.

Rosalind

204 - 208
  1. Alas the day, what shall I do with my doublet and hose? What
  2. did he when thou saw’st him? What said he? How look’d he?
  3. Wherein went he? What makes he here? Did he ask for me?
  4. Where remains he? How parted he with thee? And when shalt
  5. thou see him again? Answer me in one word.

Celia

209 - 211
  1. You must borrow me Gargantua’s mouth first; ’tis a word too
  2. great for any mouth of this age’s size. To say ay and no to
  3. these particulars is more than to answer in a catechism.

Rosalind

212 - 213
  1. But doth he know that I am in this forest and in man’s
  2. apparel? Looks he as freshly as he did the day he wrestled?

Celia

214 - 217
  1. It is as easy to count atomies as to resolve the
  2. propositions of a lover. But take a taste of my finding him,
  3. and relish it with good observance. I found him under a
  4. tree, like a dropp’d acorn.

Rosalind

218
  1. It may well be call’d Jove’s tree, when it drops such fruit.

Celia

219
  1. Give me audience, good madam.

Rosalind

220
  1. Proceed.

Celia

221
  1. There lay he, stretch’d along, like a wounded knight.

Rosalind

222 - 223
  1. Though it be pity to see such a sight, it well becomes the
  2. ground.

Celia

224 - 225
  1. Cry holla to thy tongue, I prithee; it curvets
  2. unseasonably. He was furnish’d like a hunter.

Rosalind

226
  1. O ominous! He comes to kill my heart.

Celia

227 - 228
  1. I would sing my song without a burden; thou bring’st me out
  2. of tune.

Rosalind

229 - 230
  1. Do you not know I am a woman? When I think, I must speak.
  2. Sweet, say on.
  1. Enter Orlando and Jaques.

Celia

232
  1. You bring me out. Soft, comes he not here?

Rosalind

233
  1. ’Tis he. Slink by, and note him.

Jaques

234 - 235
  1. I thank you for your company, but, good faith, I had as lief
  2. have been myself alone.

Orlando

236 - 237
  1. And so had I; but yet for fashion sake I thank you too for
  2. your society.

Jaques

238
  1. God buy you, let’s meet as little as we can.

Orlando

239
  1. I do desire we may be better strangers.

Jaques

240 - 241
  1. I pray you mar no more trees with writing love-songs in
  2. their barks.

Orlando

242 - 243
  1. I pray you mar no more of my verses with reading them
  2. ill-favoredly.

Jaques

244
  1. Rosalind is your love’s name?

Orlando

245
  1. Yes, just.

Jaques

246
  1. I do not like her name.

Orlando

247 - 248
  1. There was no thought of pleasing you when she was
  2. christen’d.

Jaques

249
  1. What stature is she of?

Orlando

250
  1. Just as high as my heart.

Jaques

251 - 252
  1. You are full of pretty answers; have you not been acquainted
  2. with goldsmiths’ wives, and conn’d them out of rings?

Orlando

253 - 254
  1. Not so; but I answer you right painted cloth, from whence
  2. you have studied your questions.

Jaques

255 - 257
  1. You have a nimble wit; I think ’twas made of Atalanta’s
  2. heels. Will you sit down with me? And we two will rail
  3. against our mistress the world, and all our misery.

Orlando

258 - 259
  1. I will chide no breather in the world but myself, against
  2. whom I know most faults.

Jaques

260
  1. The worst fault you have is to be in love.

Orlando

261 - 262
  1. ’Tis a fault I will not change for your best virtue. I am
  2. weary of you.

Jaques

263
  1. By my troth, I was seeking for a fool when I found you.

Orlando

264 - 265
  1. He is drown’d in the brook; look but in, and you shall see
  2. him.

Jaques

266
  1. There I shall see mine own figure.

Orlando

267
  1. Which I take to be either a fool or a cipher.

Jaques

268
  1. I’ll tarry no longer with you. Farewell, good Signior Love.

Orlando

269 - 270
  1. I am glad of your departure. Adieu, good Monsieur
  2. Melancholy.
  1. Exit Jaques.

Rosalind

272 - 274
  1. Aside to Celia.
  2. I will speak to him like a saucy lackey, and under that
  3. habit play the knave with him.—Do you hear, forester?

Orlando

275
  1. Very well. What would you?

Rosalind

276
  1. I pray you, what is’t a’ clock?

Orlando

277 - 278
  1. You should ask me what time o’ day; there’s no clock in the
  2. forest.

Rosalind

279 - 281
  1. Then there is no true lover in the forest, else sighing
  2. every minute and groaning every hour would detect the lazy
  3. foot of Time as well as a clock.

Orlando

282 - 283
  1. And why not the swift foot of Time? Had not that been as
  2. proper?

Rosalind

284 - 287
  1. By no means, sir. Time travels in divers paces with divers
  2. persons. I’ll tell you who Time ambles withal, who Time
  3. trots withal, who Time gallops withal, and who he stands
  4. still withal.

Orlando

288
  1. I prithee, who doth he trot withal?

Rosalind

289 - 292
  1. Marry, he trots hard with a young maid between the contract
  2. of her marriage and the day it is solemniz’d. If the interim
  3. be but a se’nnight, Time’s pace is so hard that it seems the
  4. length of seven year.

Orlando

293
  1. Who ambles Time withal?

Rosalind

294 - 299
  1. With a priest that lacks Latin, and a rich man that hath not
  2. the gout; for the one sleeps easily because he cannot study,
  3. and the other lives merrily because he feels no pain; the
  4. one lacking the burden of lean and wasteful learning, the
  5. other knowing no burden of heavy tedious penury. These Time
  6. ambles withal.

Orlando

300
  1. Who doth he gallop withal?

Rosalind

301 - 302
  1. With a thief to the gallows; for though he go as softly as
  2. foot can fall, he thinks himself too soon there.

Orlando

303
  1. Who stays it still withal?

Rosalind

304 - 305
  1. With lawyers in the vacation; for they sleep between term
  2. and term, and then they perceive not how Time moves.

Orlando

306
  1. Where dwell you, pretty youth?

Rosalind

307 - 308
  1. With this shepherdess, my sister; here in the skirts of the
  2. forest, like fringe upon a petticoat.

Orlando

309
  1. Are you native of this place?

Rosalind

310
  1. As the cony that you see dwell where she is kindled.

Orlando

311 - 312
  1. Your accent is something finer than you could purchase in so
  2. remov’d a dwelling.

Rosalind

313 - 319
  1. I have been told so of many; but indeed an old religious
  2. uncle of mine taught me to speak, who was in his youth an
  3. inland man, one that knew courtship too well, for there he
  4. fell in love. I have heard him read many lectures against
  5. it, and I thank God I am not a woman, to be touch’d with so
  6. many giddy offenses as he hath generally tax’d their whole
  7. sex withal.

Orlando

320 - 321
  1. Can you remember any of the principal evils that he laid to
  2. the charge of women?

Rosalind

322 - 324
  1. There were none principal, they were all like one another as
  2. halfpence are, every one fault seeming monstrous till his
  3. fellow-fault came to match it.

Orlando

325
  1. I prithee recount some of them.

Rosalind

326 - 332
  1. No; I will not cast away my physic but on those that are
  2. sick. There is a man haunts the forest, that abuses our
  3. young plants with carving ’Rosalind’ on their barks; hangs
  4. odes upon hawthorns, and elegies on brambles; all, forsooth,
  5. deifying the name of Rosalind. If I could meet that
  6. fancy-monger, I would give him some good counsel, for he
  7. seems to have the quotidian of love upon him.

Orlando

333 - 334
  1. I am he that is so love-shak’d, I pray you tell me your
  2. remedy.

Rosalind

335 - 337
  1. There is none of my uncle’s marks upon you. He taught me how
  2. to know a man in love; in which cage of rushes I am sure you
  3. are not prisoner.

Orlando

338
  1. What were his marks?

Rosalind

339 - 348
  1. A lean cheek, which you have not; a blue eye and sunken,
  2. which you have not; an unquestionable spirit, which you have
  3. not; a beard neglected, which you have not (but I pardon you
  4. for that, for simply your having in beard is a younger
  5. brother’s revenue); then your hose should be ungarter’d,
  6. your bonnet unbanded, your sleeve unbutton’d, your shoe
  7. untied, and every thing about you demonstrating a careless
  8. desolation. But you are no such man; you are rather
  9. point-device in your accoustrements, as loving yourself,
  10. than seeming the lover of any other.

Orlando

349
  1. Fair youth, I would I could make thee believe I love.

Rosalind

350 - 355
  1. Me believe it? You may as soon make her that you love
  2. believe it, which I warrant she is apter to do than to
  3. confess she does. That is one of the points in the which
  4. women still give the lie to their consciences. But in good
  5. sooth, are you he that hangs the verses on the trees,
  6. wherein Rosalind is so admir’d?

Orlando

356 - 357
  1. I swear to thee, youth, by the white hand of Rosalind, I am
  2. that he, that unfortunate he.

Rosalind

358
  1. But are you so much in love as your rhymes speak?

Orlando

359
  1. Neither rhyme nor reason can express how much.

Rosalind

360 - 364
  1. Love is merely a madness, and I tell you, deserves as well a
  2. dark house and a whip as madmen do; and the reason why they
  3. are not so punish’d and cur’d is, that the lunacy is so
  4. ordinary that the whippers are in love too. Yet I profess
  5. curing it by counsel.

Orlando

365
  1. Did you ever cure any so?

Rosalind

366 - 380
  1. Yes, one, and in this manner. He was to imagine me his love,
  2. his mistress; and I set him every day to woo me. At which
  3. time would I, being but a moonish youth, grieve, be
  4. effeminate, changeable, longing and liking, proud,
  5. fantastical, apish, shallow, inconstant, full of tears, full
  6. of smiles; for every passion something, and for no passion
  7. truly any thing, as boys and women are for the most part
  8. cattle of this color; would now like him, now loathe him;
  9. then entertain him, then forswear him; now weep for him,
  10. then spit at him; that I drave my suitor from his mad humor
  11. of love to a living humor of madness, which was, to forswear
  12. the full stream of the world, and to live in a nook merely
  13. monastic. And thus I cur’d him, and this way will I take
  14. upon me to wash your liver as clean as a sound sheep’s
  15. heart, that there shall not be one spot of love in’t.

Orlando

381
  1. I would not be cur’d, youth.

Rosalind

382 - 383
  1. I would cure you, if you would but call me Rosalind, and
  2. come every day to my cote and woo me.

Orlando

384
  1. Now, by the faith of my love, I will. Tell me where it is.

Rosalind

385 - 386
  1. Go with me to it, and I’ll show it you; and by the way, you
  2. shall tell me where in the forest you live. Will you go?

Orlando

387
  1. With all my heart, good youth.

Rosalind

388
  1. Nay, you must call me Rosalind. Come, sister, will you go?
  1. Exeunt.
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