Prescanned Shakespeare.com
presented by Acoustic Learning
The forest.
[Enter ORLANDO, with a paper]
ORLANDO
, ,
, ,
,
Hang there*| my verse,| in wit|ness of | my love,
, T T
T ,
,
And thou | thrice-crowned queen | of night |
survey
, ,
, , ,
With thy / chaste eye,| from thy / pale sphere |
above
, , ,
, ,
Thy hunt|ress' name,| that my / full life | doth
sway.
, ,
, , ,
O Ros|alind,| these trees | shall be | my books,
,
, ,
, ,
And in | their barks | my thoughts | I'll
char|acter,
, , ,
, ,
That eve|ry eye,| which in | this^for|est looks,
, ,
, , ,
Shall see | thy vir|tue wit|nessed eve|rywhere.
T T . T
, , ,
Run, run Orlan|do, carve | on eve|ry tree,
, , ,
, ,
The fair,| the chaste,| and un|expres|sive she.
[Exit. Enter CORIN and TOUCHSTONE]
CORIN
And how like you this shepherd's life Master Touchstone?
TOUCHSTONE
Truly shepherd, in respect of itself, it is a good life; but in respect that
it is a shepherd's life, it is naught. In respect that it is solitary, I
like it very well: but in respect that it is private, it is a very vile
life. Now, in respect it is in the fields, it pleaseth me well: but in
respect it is not in the court, it is tedious. As is it a spare life (look
you) it fits my humor well: but as there is no more plenty in it, it goes
much against my stomach. Hast any philosophy in thee shepherd?
CORIN
No more, but that I know the more one sickens, the worse at ease he is: and
that he that wants money, means, and content, is without three good friends.
that the property of rain is to wet, and fire to burn: that good pasture
makes fat sheep: and that a great cause of the night is lack of the sun:
that he that hath learned no wit by nature, nor art, may complain of good
breeding, or comes of a very dull kindred.
TOUCHSTONE
Such a one is a natural philosopher:
Wast ever in court, shepherd?
CORIN
No truly.
TOUCHSTONE
Then thou art damned.
CORIN
Nay, I hope.
TOUCHSTONE
Truly thou art damned, like an ill-roasted egg, all on one side.
CORIN
For not being at court? Your reason.
TOUCHSTONE
Why, if thou never wast at court, thou never sawst good manners: if thou
never sawst good manners, then thy manners must be wicked, and wickedness is
sin, and sin is damnation: Thou art in a parlous state shepherd.
CORIN
Not a whit Touchstone, those that are good manners at the court, are as
ridiculous in the country, as the behavior of the country is most mockable
at the court. You told me, you salute not at the court, but you kiss your
hands; that courtesy would be uncleanly if courtiers were shepherds.
TOUCHSTONE
Instance, briefly: come, instance.
CORIN
Why we are still handling our ewes, and their fells you know are greasy.
TOUCHSTONE
Why do not your courtier's hands sweat? and is not the grease of a mutton,
as wholesome as the sweat of a man? Shallow, shallow: A better instance I
say: come.
CORIN
Besides, our hands are hard.
TOUCHSTONE
Your lips will feel them the sooner. Shallow again: a more sounder instance,
come.
CORIN
And they are often tarred over with the surgery of our sheep: and would you
have us kiss tar? The courtier's hands are perfumed with civet.
TOUCHSTONE
Most shallow man: thou worms-meat, in respect of a good piece of flesh
indeed: Learn of the wise and perpend: civet is of a baser birth than tar,
the very uncleanly flux of a cat. Mend the instance shepherd.
CORIN
You have too courtly a wit, for me, I'll rest.
TOUCHSTONE
Wilt thou rest damned? God help thee shallow man: God make incision in thee,
thou art raw.
CORIN
Sir, I am a true laborer, I earn that I eat: get that I wear; owe no man
hate, envy no man's happiness: glad of other men's good content with my
harm: and the greatest of my pride, is to see my ewes graze, and my lambs
suck.
TOUCHSTONE
That is another simple sin in you, to bring the ewes and the rams together,
and to offer to get your living, by the copulation of cattle, to be bawd to
a bell-wether, and to betray a she-lamb of a twelvemonth to a crooked-pated
old cuckoldly ram, out of all reasonable match. If thou beest not damned for
this, the devil himself will have no shepherds, I cannot see else how thou
shouldst 'scape.
CORIN
Here comes young Master Ganymede, my new mistress's brother.
[Enter ROSALIND]
ROSALIND
,
, ,
___
From the | east to | western | Ind,
T Tx T T
T . T
no jewel is | like Rosalind.
, 2 ,
, ,
Her worth | being mount|ed on | the wind,
, ,
T T . T
through all | the world | bears Rosalind.
,
, ,
___
All the | pictures | fairest | lined,
,
, , __
are but | black to | Rosa|lind:
,
, ,
__
Let no | fair be | kept in | mind,
,
, , __
but the | fair of | Rosa|lind.
TOUCHSTONE
I'll rhyme you so, eight years together; dinners, and suppers, and
sleeping-hours excepted: it is the right butter-women's rank to market.
ROSALIND
Out fool.
TOUCHSTONE
For a taste.
, ,
, __
If a | hart do | lack a | hind,
,
, , __
Let him | seek out | Rosa|lind:
,
, ,
__
If the | cat will | after | kind,
,
, , __
So be | sure will | Rosa|lind:
,
, ,
___
Winter | garments | must be | lined,
,
, , __
So must | slender | Rosa|lind:
,
, ,
__
They that | reap must | sheaf and | bind,
,
, , __
Then to | cart with | Rosa|lind.
,
, ,
__
Sweetest | nut, hath | sourest | rind,
,
, , __
Such a | nut is | Rosa|lind.
,
, ,
__
He that | sweetest | rose will | find,
,
T T . T
,
Must^find | love's prick, and Ros|alind.
This is the very false gallop of verses, why do you infect yourself with
them?
ROSALIND
Peace you dull fool, I found them on a tree.
TOUCHSTONE
Truly the tree yields bad fruit.
ROSALIND
I'll graff it with you, and then I shall graff it with a medlar: then it
will be the earliest fruit in the country: for you'll be rotten ere you be
half ripe, and that's the right virtue of the medlar.
TOUCHSTONE
You have said: but whether wisely or no, let the forest judge.
[Enter CELIA, with a writing]
ROSALIND
Peace, here comes my sister reading, stand aside.
CELIA
,
, ,
__
Why should | this a | desert | be,
,
, , __
For it | is un|peopled?| No:
,
, ,
__
Tongues I'll | hang on | every | tree,
,
, ,
__
That shall | civil | sayings | show.
,
, ,
___
Some, how | brief the | life of | man
,
, ,
___
Runs his | erring | pilgrim|age,
,
, ,
__
That the | stretching | of a | span,
,
, ,
___
Buckles | in his | sum of | age.
,
, , __
Some, of | vio|lated | vows,
, ,
, __
'Twixt the | souls of | friend, and | friend:
, ,
, __
But u|pon the | fairest | boughs,
,
, ,
___
Or at | every | sentence | end;
,
, , ___
Will I | Rosa|linda | write,
,
, ,
__
Teaching | all that | read, to | know
, ,
, ,
The quint|essence | of eve|ry sprite,
,
, ,
__
Heaven | would in | little | show.
,
, ,
___
Therefore | Heaven | Nature | charged,
T T
T , ,
That one bod|y should | be filled
,
, ,
__
With all | graces | wide-en|larged,
,
, , __
Nature | present|ly dis|tilled
,
, ,
___
Helen's | cheek, but | not her | heart,
, ,
, ___
Cleo|patra's | maje|sty:
, ,
, __
Ata|lanta's | better | part,
,
, , ___
Sad Lu|cretia's | mode|sty.
, ,
, ,
Thus Ros|alind | of man|y parts,
x ,
, ,
By heaven|ly syn|od was | devised,
,
, , ,
Of man|y fac|es, eyes,| and hearts,
, ,
, ,
To have | the touch|es dear|est prized.
2 ,
, , ,
Heaven would | that she | these gifts | should
have,
, ,
, ,
And I | to live | and die | her slave.
ROSALIND
O most gentle pulpiter, what tedious homily of love have you wearied your
parishioners withal, and never cried, have patience good people.
CELIA
How now back friends: Shepherd, go off a little: Go with him sirrah.
TOUCHSTONE
Come shepherd, let us make an honorable retreat, though not with bag and
baggage, yet with scrip and scrippage.
[Exeunt CORIN and TOUCHSTONE]
CELIA
Didst thou hear these verses?
ROSALIND
O yes, I heard them all, and more too, for some of them had in them more
feet than the verses would bear.
CELIA
That's no matter: the feet might bear the verses.
ROSALIND
Aye, but the feet were lame, and could not bear themselves without the
verse, and therefore stood lamely in the verse.
CELIA
But didst thou hear without wondering, how thy name should be hanged and
carved upon these trees?
ROSALIND
I was seven of the nine days out of the wonder, before you came: for look
here what I found on a palm-tree; I was never so be-rhymed since Pythagoras'
time that I was an Irish rat, which I can hardly remember.
CELIA
Trow you, who hath done this?
ROSALIND
Is it a man?
CELIA
And a chain that you once wore about his neck: change you color?
ROSALIND
I prithee who?
CELIA
O Lord, Lord, it is a hard matter for friends to meet; but mountains may be
removed with earthquakes, and so encounter.
ROSALIND
Nay, but who is it?
CELIA
Is it possible?
ROSALIND
Nay, I prithee now, with most petitionary vehemence, tell me who it is.
CELIA
O wonderful, wonderful, and most wonderful wonderful, and yet again
wonderful, and after that out of all hooping.
ROSALIND
Good my complexion, dost thou think though I am caparisoned like a man, I
have a doublet and hose in my disposition? One inch of delay more, is a
South-sea of discovery. I prithee tell me, who is it quickly, and speak
apace: I would thou couldst stammer, that thou mightst pour this concealed
man out of thy mouth, as wine comes out of a narrow- mouthed bottle: either
too much at once, or none at all. I prithee take the cork out of thy mouth,
that may drink thy tidings.
CELIA
So you may put a man in your belly.
ROSALIND
Is he of God's making? What manner of man? Is his head worth a hat? Or his
chin worth a beard?
CELIA
Nay, he hath but a little beard.
ROSALIND
Why God will send more, if the man will be thankful: let me stay the growth
of his beard, if thou delay me not the knowledge of his chin.
CELIA
It is young Orlando, that tripped up the wrestler's heels, and your heart,
both in an instant.
ROSALIND
Nay, but the devil take mocking: speak sad brow, and true maid.
CELIA
In faith (coz) 'tis he.
ROSALIND
Orlando?
CELIA
Orlando.
ROSALIND
Alas the day, what shall I do with my doublet and hose? What did he when
thou sawst him? What said he? How looked he? Wherein went he? What makes he
here? Did he ask for me? Where remains he? How parted he with thee? and when
shalt thou see him again? Answer me in one word.
CELIA
You must borrow me Gargantua's mouth first: 'tis a word too great for any
mouth of this age's size, to say aye and no to these particulars, is more
than to answer in a catechism.
ROSALIND
But doth he know that I am in this forest, and in man's apparel? Looks he as
freshly, as he did the day he wrestled?
CELIA
It is as easy to count atomies as to resolve the propositions of a lover:
but take a taste of my finding him, and relish it with good observance. I
found him under a tree like a dropped acorn.
ROSALIND
It may well be called Jove's tree, when it drops forth such fruit.
CELIA
Give me audience, good madam.
ROSALIND
Proceed.
CELIA
There lay he stretched along like a wounded knight.
ROSALIND
Though it be pity to see such a sight, it well becomes the ground.
CELIA
Cry holla, to thy tongue, I prithee: it curvets unseasonably. He was
furnished like a hunter.
ROSALIND
O ominous, he comes to kill my heart.
CELIA
I would sing my song without a burden, thou bringst me out of tune.
ROSALIND
Do you not know I am a woman, when I think, I must speak: Sweet, say on.
[Enter ORLANDO and JAQUES]
CELIA
You bring me out. Soft, comes he not here?
ROSALIND
'Tis he, slink by, and note him.
JAQUES
I thank you for your company, but good faith I had as lief have been myself
alone.
ORLANDO
And so had I: but yet for fashion sake I thank you too, for your society.
JAQUES
God be with you, let's meet as little as we can.
ORLANDO
I do desire we may be better strangers.
JAQUES
I pray you mar no more trees with writing love-songs in their barks.
ORLANDO
I pray you mar no more of my verses with reading them ill-favoredly.
JAQUES
Rosalind is your love's name?
ORLANDO
Yes, just.
JAQUES
I do not like her name.
ORLANDO
There was no thought of pleasing you when she was christened.
JAQUES
What stature is she of?
ORLANDO
Just as high as my heart.
JAQUES
You are full of pretty answers: Have you not been acquainted with
goldsmiths' wives, and conned them out of rings?
ORLANDO
Not so: but I answer you right painted cloth, from whence you have studied
your questions.
JAQUES
You have a nimble wit; I think 'twas made of Atalanta's heels. Will you sit
down with me, and we two, will rail against our mistress the world, and all
our misery.
ORLANDO
I will chide no breather in the world but myself against whom I know most
faults.
JAQUES
The worst fault you have, is to be in love.
ORLANDO
'Tis a fault I will not change, for your best virtue. I am weary of you.
JAQUES
By my troth, I was seeking for a fool, when I found you.
ORLANDO
He is drowned in the brook, look but in, and you shall see him.
JAQUES
There I shall see mine own figure.
ORLANDO
Which I take to be either a fool, or a cipher.
JAQUES
I'll tarry no longer with you, farewell good Signior Love.
ORLANDO
I am glad of your departure: adieu good Monsieur Melancholy.
[Exit JAQUES]
ROSALIND
I will speak to him like a saucy lackey, and under that habit play the knave
with him, do you hear forester?
ORLANDO
Very well, what would you?
ROSALIND
I pray you, what is it o'clock?
ORLANDO
You should ask me what time of day: there's no clock in the forest.
ROSALIND
Then there is no true lover in the forest, else sighing every minute, and
groaning every hour would detect the lazy foot of Time, as well as a clock.
ORLANDO
And why not the swift foot of Time? had not that been as proper?
ROSALIND
By no means sir; Time travels in divers paces, with divers persons: I'll
tell you who Time ambles withal, who Time trots withal, who Time gallops
withal, and who he stands still withal.
ORLANDO
I prithee, who doth he trot withal?
ROSALIND
Marry he trots hard with a young maid, between the contract of her marriage,
and the day it is solemnized: if the interim be but a sennight, Time's pace
is so hard, that it seems the length of seven year.
ORLANDO
Who ambles Time withal?
ROSALIND
With a priest that lacks Latin, and a rich man that hath not the gout: for
the one sleeps easily because he cannot study, and the other lives merrily,
because he feels no pain: the one lacking the burden of lean and wasteful
learning; the other knowing no burden of heavy tedious penury. These Time
ambles withal.
ORLANDO
Who doth he gallop withal?
ROSALIND
With a thief to the gallows: for though he go as softly as foot can fall, he
thinks himself too soon there.
ORLANDO
Who stays it still withal?
ROSALIND
With lawyers in the vacation: for they sleep between term and term, and then
they perceive not how Time moves.
ORLANDO
Where dwell you pretty youth?
ROSALIND
With this shepherdess my sister: here in the skirts of the forest, like
fringe upon a petticoat.
ORLANDO
Are you native of this place?
ROSALIND
As the cony that you see dwell where she is kindled.
ORLANDO
Your accent is something finer, than you could purchase in so removed a
dwelling.
ROSALIND
I have been told so of many: but indeed, an old religious uncle of mine
taught me to speak, who was in his youth an inland man, one that knew
courtship too well: for there he fell in love. I have heard him read many
lectures against it, and I thank God, I am not a woman to be touched with so
many giddy offenses as he hath generally taxed their whole sex withal.
ORLANDO
Can you remember any of the principal evils, that he laid to the charge of
women?
ROSALIND
There were none principal, they were all like one another, as half-pence
are, every one fault seeming monstrous, till his fellow fault came to match
it.
ORLANDO
I prithee recount some of them.
ROSALIND
No: I will not cast away my physic, but on those that are sick. There is a
man haunts the forest, that abuses our young plants with carving Rosalind on
their barks; hangs odes upon hawthorns, and elegies on brambles, all
(forsooth) deifying the name of Rosalind. If I could meet that fancy-monger,
I would give him some good counsel, for he seems to have the quotidian of
love upon him.
ORLANDO
I am he that is so love-shaked, I pray you tell me your remedy.
ROSALIND
There is none of my uncle's marks upon you: he taught me how to know a man
in love: in which cage of rushes, I am sure you are not prisoner.
ORLANDO
What were his marks?
ROSALIND
A lean cheek, which you have not: a blue eye and sunken, which you have not:
an unquestionable spirit, which you have not: a beard neglected, which you
have not: (but I pardon you for that, for simply your having in beard, is a
younger brother's revenue) then your hose should be ungartered, your bonnet
unbanded, your sleeve unbuttoned, your shoe untied, and everything about
you, demonstrating a careless desolation: but you are no such man; you are
rather point-device in your accoutrements, as loving yourself, than seeming
the lover of any other.
ORLANDO
Fair youth, I would I could make thee believe I love.
ROSALIND
Me believe it? you may as soon make her that you love believe it, which I
warrant she is apter to do, than to confess she does: that is one of the
points, in the which women still give the lie to their consciences. But in
good sooth, are you he that hangs the verses on the trees, wherein Rosalind
is so admired?
ORLANDO
I swear to thee youth, by the white hand of Rosalind, I am that he, that
unfortunate he.
ROSALIND
But are you so much in love, as your rhymes speak?
ORLANDO
Neither rhyme nor reason can express how much.
ROSALIND
Love is merely a madness, and I tell you, deserves as well a dark house, and
a whip, as madmen do: and the reason why they are not so punished and cured,
is, that the lunacy is so ordinary, that the whippers are in love too: Yet I
profess curing it by counsel.
ORLANDO
Did you ever cure any so?
ROSALIND
Yes one, and in this manner. He was to imagine me his love, his mistress:
and I set him every day to woo me. At which time would I, being but a
moonish youth, grieve, be effeminate, changeable, longing, and liking,
proud, fantastical, apish, shallow, inconstant, full of tears, full of
smiles; forevery passion something, and for no passion truly anything, as
boys and women are for the most part, cattle of this color: would now like
him, now loathe him: then entertain him, then forswear him: now weep for
him, then spit at him; that I drave my suitor from his mad humor of love, to
a living humor of madness, which was to forswear the full stream of the
world, and to live in a nook merely monastic: And thus I cured him, and this
way will I take upon me to wash your liver as clean as a sound sheep's
heart, that there shall not be one spot of love in it.
ORLANDO
I would not be cured, youth.
ROSALIND
I would cure you, if you would but call me Rosalind, and come every day to
my cote, and woo me.
ORLANDO
Now by the faith of my love, I will; tell me where it is.
ROSALIND
Go with me to it, and I'll show it you: and by the way, you shall tell me,
where in the forest you live: Will you go?
ORLANDO
With all my heart, good youth.
ROSALIND
Nay, you must call me Rosalind: Come sister, will you go?
[Exeunt]