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 years old, conversed with a magician, most profound in this art, and yet not damnable. If you do love Rosalind 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 to-morrow, human as she is, and without any danger. Orl. Speakest thou in sober meanings? Ros. By my life, I do; which I tender dearly, though I say I am a magician: Therefore, put you in your best array, bid* your friends: for if you will be married to-morrow, you shall; and to Rosalind, if you will. Enter SILVIUS and PHEВЕ. Look, here comes a lover of mine, and a lover of hers. Phe. Youth, you have done me much un gentleness, To show the letter that I writ to you. Ros. I care not, if I have: it is my study, Phe. Good shepherd, tell this youth what Sil. It is to be all made of sighs and tears;And so am I for Phebe. Phe. And I for Ganymede. Orl. And I for Rosalind. Ros. And I for no woman. Sil. It is to be all made of faith and ser And so am I for Phebe. Phe. And I for Ganymede. Orl. And I for Rosalind. Ros. And I for no woman. Sil. It is to be all made of fantasy, [vice; All made of passion, and all made of wishes; All humbleness, all patience, and impatience, And so am I for Phebe. Phe. And so am I for Ganymede. Ros. And so am I for no woman. Phe. If this be so, why blame you me to love [TO ROSALIND. you? Sil. If this be so, why blame you me to love you? [TO PHEBE. Orl. If this be so, why blame you me to love you? Ros. Who do you speak to, why blame you me to love you ? Orl. To her, that is not here, nor doth not hear. Ros. Pray you, no more of this; 'tis like the howling of Irish wolves against the moon.-I will help you, [To SILVIUS] if I can :-I would love you, [TO PHEBE] if I could.-To-morrow meet me all together.-I will marry you, [To PHEBE] if ever I marry woman, and I'll be married to-morrow:-I will satisfy you, [Το ORLANDO] if ever I satisfied man, and you shall be married to-morrow:-I will content you, [To SILVIUS] if what pleases you contents you, and you shall be married to-morrow. As you, [To ORLANDO] love Rosalind, meet;-as you, [TO SILVIUS] love Phebe, meet; And as I love no woman, I'll meet. - Sofare you well; I have left you commands. • Invite. Touch. Truly, young gentlemen, though there was no greater matter in the ditty, yet the note was very untunable. 1 Page. You are deceived, Sir; we kept time, we lost not our time. Touch. By my troth, yes; I count it but time lost to hear such a foolish song. God be with you; and God mend your voices! Come, Audrey. [Exeunt. SCENE IV.-Another part of the Forest. Enter DUKE, senior, AMIENS, JAQUES, ORLANDO, OLIVER, and CELIA. Duke S. Dost thou believe, Orlando, that the Can do all this that he hath promised? [boy Orl. I sometimes do believe, and sometimes do not; [fear. As those that fear they hope, and know they Enter ROSALIND, SILVIUS, and PHEBE. Ros. Patience once more, whiles our compact is urg'd:-- You say, if I bring in your Rosalind, [To the DUKE, You will bestow her on Orlando here? Duke S. That would I, had I kingdoms to have her, when [TO ORLANDO. give with her. Ros. And you say, you will I bring her? Orl. That would I, were I of all kingdoms Ros. You say, you'll marry me, if I be will Phe. That will I, should I die the hour after. will? Ros. You say, that you'll have Phebe, if she [To SILVIUS. Sil. Though to have her and death were both one thing. Ros. I have promis'd to make all this matter even. Keep you your word, O duke, to give your You yours, Orlando, to receive his daughter:- [Exeunt ROSALIND and CELIA. Enter TOUCHSTONE and AUDREY. Touch. Salutation and greeting to you all! Jaq. 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. Touch. 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 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 judgement: This is called the Reply churlish. If again, it was not well 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. Jaq. And how oft did you say, his beard was not well cut? Touch. 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. Jaq. Can you nominate in order now the degrees of the lie? Touch. 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 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; 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. Your If is the only peacemaker; much virtue in If. Jaq. Is not this a rare fellow, my lord? he's as good at any thing, and yet a fool. Duke S. He uses his folly like a stalking horse, and under the presentation of that, he shoots his wit. Enter HYMEN, leading ROSALIND in woman's Touch. If any man doubt that, let him put Hym. Then is there mirth in heaven, me to my purgation. I have trod a measure;* I have flattered a lady; I have been politic with my friend, smooth with my enemy; I have undone three tailors; I have had four quarrels, and like to have fought one. Jaq. And how was that ta'en up? Touch. 'Faith, we met, and found the quarrel was upon the seventh cause. Jag. How seventh cause?-Good my lord, like this fellow. Duke S. I like him very well. Touch. 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 forsazar; according as marriage binds, and blood breaks: A poor virgin, Sir, an ill-favoured thing, Sir, but mine own; a poor humour of wine, 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 S. By my faith, he is very swift and sententious. Touch. According to the fool's bolt, Sir, and such dulcet diseases. Jaq. But, for the seventh cause; how did you find the quarrel on the seventh cause ? A stately solemn dance. When earthly things made even Ros. To you I give myself, for I am yours. [TO DUKE S. [TO ORLANDO. Duke S. If there be truth in sight, you are my daughter. To you I give myself, for I am yours. Orl. If there be truth in sight, you are my Phe. If sight and shape be true, • Secinly. Here's eight that must take hands, If truth holds true contents.* [To ORLANDO and ROSALIND. You and you are heart in heart: [To OLIVER and CELIA. You [TO PHEBE] to his love must accord, Or have a woman to your lord : You and you are sure together, The duke hath put on a religious life, Jaq. To him will I; out of these convertites [TO TOUCHSTONE and AUDREY. There is much matter to be heard and learn'd. As the winter to foul weather. Whiles a wedlock-hymn we sing, Feed yourselves with questioning; That reason wonder may diminish, You to your former honour I bequeath; [TO DUKE S. Your patience, and your virtue well deserves it: How thus we met, and these things finish. Even daughter, welcome in no less degree. Phe. I will not eat my word, now thou art mine; Thy faith my fancy to thee doth combine.t [TO SILVIUS. You [To OLIVER] to your land, and love, and You [To ORLANDO] to a love, that your true faith doth merit : great allies: bed; You [TO SILVIUS] to a long and well deserved And you [To TOUCHSTONE] to wrangling; for thy loving voyage Is but for two months victual'd:-So to your pleasures; I am for other than for dancing measures. Jaq. To see no pastime, I:-what you would have I'll stay to know at your abandon'd cave. [Exit. Duke S. Proceed, proceed: we will begin these rites, Jag. de B. Let me have audience for a word And we do trust they'll end in true delights. Enter JAQUES DE BOIS. or two; I am the second son of old Sir Rowland, Duke S. Welcome, young man; Shall share the good of our returned fortune, According to the measure of their states. Meantime, forget this new-fall'n dignity, • Unless truth fails of veracity † Bind. EPILOGUE. [A dance. Ros. It is not the fashion to see the lady the to see the lord the prologue. If it be true, that epilogue: but it is no more unhandsome, than good wine needs no bush, 'tis true, that a good play needs no epilogue: Yet to good wine they do use good bushes; 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 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 them: and so I charge you, O men, for the love you bear to women, (as i perceive by your simpering, none of you hate 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 good beards, or good faces, or sweet breaths, will, for my kind offer, when I make curt'sy, bid me farewell. [Exeunt. ACT I. SCENE I.-Rousillon. - A Room in the Countess' Palace. Enter BERTRAM, the COUNTESS of ROUSILLON, HELENA, and LAFEU, in mourning. Count. In delivering my son from me, I bury a second husband. Ber. And I, in going, madam, weep o'er my father's death anew: but I must attend his majesty's command, to whom I am now in ward, evermore in subjectiom Laf. You shall find of the king a husband, madam; you, Sir, a father: He that so generally is at all times good, must of necessity hold his virtue to you; whose worthiness would stir it up where it wanted, rather than lack it where there is such abundance. Count. What hope is there of his majesty's amendment? Laf. He hath abandoned his physicians, madam; under whose practices he hath persecuted time with hope; and finds no other advantage in the process but only the losing of hope by time. Count. This young gentlewoman had a father, (O, that had! how sad a passage 'tis!) whose skill was almost as great as his honesty; had it stretched so far, would have made nature immortal, and death should have play for lack of work. 'Would, for the king's sake, he were living! I think, it would be the death of the king's disease. Laf. How called you the man you speak of, madam? Count. He was famous, Sir, in his profession, and it was his great right to be so: Gerard de Narbon. Laf. He was excellent, indeed, madam; the king very lately spoke of him, admiringly, and mourningly: he was skilful enough to have lived still, if knowledge could be set up against mortality. Ber. What is it, my good lord, the king languishes of? * Under his particular care, as my guardian. Laf. A fistula, my lord. Ber. I heard not of it before. Laf. I would, it were not notorious. - Was this gentlewoman the daughter of Gerard de Narbon? Count. His sole child, my lord; and bequeathed to my overlooking. I have those hopes of her good, that her education promises: her dispositions she inherits, which makes fair gifts fairer; for where an unclean mind carries virtuous qualities, there commendations go with pity, they are virtues and traitors too; in her they are the better for their simpleness;t she derives her honesty, and achieves her goodness. Laf. Your commendations, madam, get from her tears. Count. 'Tis the best brine a maiden can season her praise in. The remembrance of her father never approaches her heart, but the tyranny of her sorrows takes all livelihood from her cheek. No more of this, Helena, go to, no more; lest it be rather thought you affect a sorrow, than to have. Hel. I do affect a sorrow, indeed, but I have it too. Laf. Moderate lamentation is the right of the dead, excessive grief the enemy to the living. Count. If the living be enemy to the grief, the excess makes it soon mortal. Ber. Madam, I desire your holy wishes. ceed thy father In manners, as in shape! thy blood, and virtue, Contend for empire in thee; and thy goodness Share with thy birthright! Love all, trust a few, Do wrong to none: be able for thine enemy Rather in power, than use; and keep thy friend Under thy own life's key: be check'd for silence, [will, But never tax'd for speech. What heaven more * Qualities of good breeding and erudition. + Her excellences are the better because they are art. + The countess recollects her own loss of a husband and less. observes how heavily had passes through her mind. ‡ All appearance of life. That thee may furnish, and my prayers pluck Fall on thy head! Farewell.-My lord, Laf. He cannot want the best Count. Heaven bless him!-Farewell, tram. 229 you lose your city. It is not politic in the commonwealth of nature, to preserve virginity. Loss of virginity is rational increase; and there was never virgin got, till virginity was first lost. That, you were made of, is metal to make virgins. Virginity, by being once lost, may be ten times found: by being ever kept, it is ever Ber-lost: 'tis too cold a companion; away with it. Hel. I will stand for't a little, though therefore I die a virgin. Ber. The best wishes, that can be forged in your thoughts, [To HELENA] be servants to you! Be comfortable to my mother, your mistress, and make much of her. Luf. Farewell, pretty lady: You must hold the credit of your father. father; [Exeunt BERTRAM and LAFEU. To see him every hour; to sit and draw Cold wisdom waiting on superfluous folly. Par. Save you, fair queen. Hel. And you, monarch. Par. No. Hel. And no. Par. Are you meditating on virginity? Hel. Ay. You have some stain of soldier in you; let me ask you a question: Man is enemy to virginity; how may we barricado it against him? Hel. Bless our poor virginity from underminers, and blowers up!-Is there no military policy, how virgins might blow up men? Par. Virginity, being blown down, man will quicklier be blown up: marry, in blowing him down again, with the breach yourselves made, I. e. That may help thee with more and better qualifications. † 1. c. May you be mistress of your wishes, and have power to bring them to effect. Par. There's little can be said in't; 'tis against the rule of nature. To speak on the part of virginity, is to accuse your mothers; which is most infallible disobedience. He, that hangs himself, is a virgin : virginity murders itself; and should be buried in highways, out of all sanctified limit, as a desperate offendress like a cheese; consumes itself to the very paragainst nature. Virginity breeds mites, much ing, and so dies with feeding his own stomach. Besides, virginity is peevish, proud, idle, made of self-love, which is the most inhibited* sin in the canon. Keep it not; you cannot choose but lose by't: Out with't: within ten years it will make itself ten, which is a goodly increase; and the principal itself not much the worse: Away with't. Hel. How might one do, Sir, to lose it to her own liking? Par. Let me see: Marry, ill, to like him that ne'er it likes. "Tis a commodity will lose the gloss with lying; the longer kept, the less worth: off with't, while 'tis vendible; answer the time of request. Virginity, like an old courtier, wears her cap out of fashion; richly suited, but unsuitable: just like the broocli tooth-pick, which wear not now: Your datet is better in your pie and your porridge, than in your cheek: And your virginity, your old virginity, is like one of our French withered pears; it looks ill, it eats dryly; marry, 'tis a withered pear; it was formerly better; marry, yet, 'tis a withered pear: Will you any thing with it? Hel. Not my virginity yet. sovereign, A counsellor, a traitress, and a dear; His jarring concord, and his discord dulcet, The court's a learning-place; and he is one Hel. That I wish well.-'Tis pity- Hel. That wishing well had not a body in't, Enter a PAGE. you. Helena considers her heart as the tablet on which his resemblance was pourtrayed. l'eculiarity of feature. | Countenance, * Forbidden. + A quibule on date, which means age, and candied fruit, 1. c. And show by realities what we now must only think. |