As You Like It Read online

  LE BEAU, a courtier attending on Frederick

  CHARLES, wrestler to Frederick

  the three sons of Sir Rowland de Bois

  OLIVER

  JAQUES

  ORLANDO

  ADAM, an old servant of Sir Rowland, now in service to Oliver

  DENNIS, servant to Oliver

  JAQUES, a melancholy traveller

  CORIN, an old shepherd

  SILVIUS, a young shepherd, in love with Phoebe

  PHOEBE, a shepherdess

  WILLIAM, a countryman, in love with Audrey

  AUDREY, a goatherd

  SIR OLIVER MARTEXT, a country clergyman

  HYMEN, god of marriage, perhaps played by Amiens or another courtier

  Lords, Pages, Attendants

  Act 1 Scene 1

  running scene 1

  Enter Orlando and Adam

  ORLANDO    As I remember, Adam1, it was upon this fashion

  bequeathed me by will but poor a thousand crowns2, and, as

  thou sayest, charged my brother on his blessing to breed3 me

  well: and there begins my sadness. My brother Jaques he

  keeps at school5, and 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 unkept7, for call you that

  keeping for a gentleman of my birth, that differs not from the

  stalling9 of an ox? His horses are bred better, for, besides that

  they are fair10 with their feeding, they are taught their

  manage, and to that end riders dearly11 hired: but I, his

  brother, gain nothing under him but growth, for the which

  his animals on his dunghills are as much bound13 to him as I.

  Besides this nothing that he so plentifully gives me, the

  something that nature gave me his countenance15 seems to

  take from me: he lets me feed with his hinds16, bars me the

  place of a brother, and, as much as in him lies, mines my17

  gentility with my education. This is it, Adam, that grieves18

  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 avoid21 it.

  Enter Oliver

  ADAM    Yonder comes my master, your brother.

  Adam stands aside

  ORLANDO    Go apart23, Adam, and thou shalt hear

  how he will shake me up24.

  OLIVER    Now, sir, what make25 you here?

  ORLANDO    Nothing: I am not taught to make anything.

  OLIVER    What mar27 you then, sir?

  ORLANDO    Marry28, 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 naught30

  awhile.

  ORLANDO    Shall I keep your hogs and eat husks with them?

  What prodigal portion33 have I spent that I should come to

  such penury?

  OLIVER    Know you where you are, sir?

  ORLANDO    O, sir, very well: here in your orchard36.

  OLIVER    Know you before whom, sir?

  ORLANDO    Ay, better than him I am before knows38 me. I know

  you are my eldest brother, and, in the gentle condition of39

  blood, you should so know me. The courtesy of nations40

  allows you my better, in that you are the first-born, but the

  same tradition takes not away my blood42, 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 his44

  reverence.

  OLIVER    What, boy!

  Raises his hand or hits him

  ORLANDO    Come, come, elder brother, you are too

  Grabs him

  young48 in this.

  OLIVER    Wilt thou lay hands on me, villain49?

  ORLANDO    I am no villain: I am the youngest son of Sir

  Rowland de Bois51, he was my father, and he is thrice a villain

  that says such a father begot52 villains. Wert thou not my

  brother, I would not take this hand from thy throat till this

  other had pulled out thy tongue for saying so. Thou hast

  railed on55 thyself.

  ADAM    Sweet masters, be patient: for your father’s56

  remembrance, be at accord.

  OLIVER    Let me go, I say.

  ORLANDO    I will not, till I please: you shall hear me. My father

  charged you in his will to give me good education: you have

  trained me like a peasant, obscuring and hiding from me all

  gentleman-like qualities62. The spirit of my father grows

  strong in me, and I will no longer endure it: therefore allow

  me such exercises as may become64 a gentleman, or give me

  the poor allottery my father left me by testament65, with that I

  will go buy my fortunes.

  Lets him go

  OLIVER    And what wilt thou do? Beg when that is spent?

  Well, sir, get you in. I will not long be troubled with you. You

  shall have some part of your will69. I pray you leave me.

  ORLANDO    I will no further offend70 you than becomes me for my

  good.

  To Adam

  OLIVER    Get you with him, you old dog.

  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.

  Exeunt Orlando [and] Adam

  OLIVER    Is it even so? Begin you to grow upon76 me? I will

  physic your rankness77, and yet give no thousand crowns

  neither. Holla78, 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 importunes82

  access to you.

  OLIVER    Call him in.

  [Exit Dennis]

  ’Twill be a good way, and tomorrow the wrestling is.

  Enter Charles

  CHARLES    Good morrow86 to your worship.

  OLIVER    Good Monsieur Charles, what’s the new news 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 loving91 lords have put themselves

  into voluntary exile with him, whose lands and revenues

  enrich the new duke, therefore he gives them good leave93 to

  wander.

  OLIVER    Can you tell if Rosalind, the duke’s daughter, be

  banished with her father?

  CHARLES    O, no; for the duke’s daughter, her cousin, so loves

  her, being ever98 from their cradles bred together, that she

  would have followed her exile, or have died to stay99 behind

  her; she is at the court, and no less beloved of her uncle than

  his own daughter, and never two ladies loved101 as they do.

  OLIVER    Where will the old duke live?

  CHARLES    They say he is already in the Forest of Arden103, and a

  many merry men with him; and there they live like the old

  Robin Hood105 of England: they say many young gentlemen

  flock to him every day, and fleet the time carelessly106 as they<
br />
  did in the golden world107.

  OLIVER    What, you wrestle tomorrow before the new duke?

  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 fall112. Tomorrow, sir, I wrestle for

  my credit113, and he that escapes me without some broken limb

  shall acquit him well. Your brother is but young and tender114,

  and for your love I would be loath to foil115 him, as I must for my

  own honour if he come in: therefore, out of my love to you, I

  came hither to acquaint you withal117, that either you might

  stay him from his intendment, or brook118 such disgrace well as

  he shall run into, in that it is a thing of his own search119 and

  altogether against my will.

  OLIVER    Charles, I thank thee for thy love to me, which thou

  shalt find I will most kindly requite122. I had myself notice of

  my brother’s purpose herein and have by underhand123 means

  laboured to dissuade him from it; but he is resolute. I’ll tell

  thee, Charles, it is the stubbornest young fellow of France,

  full of ambition, an envious emulator126 of every man’s good

  parts127, a secret and villainous contriver against me his

  natural brother: therefore use thy discretion. I had as lief128

  thou didst break his neck as his finger. And thou wert best

  look to’t130; for if thou dost him any slight disgrace, or if he do

  not mightily grace himself on thee, he will practise131 against

  thee by poison, entrap thee by some treacherous device132 and

  never leave thee till he hath ta’en thy life by some indirect

  means or other, for I assure thee, 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 anatomize136

  him to thee as he is, I must blush and weep and thou must

  look pale and wonder.

  CHARLES    I am heartily glad I came hither to you. If he come

  tomorrow, I’ll give him his payment. If ever he go alone140

  again, I’ll never wrestle for prize more. And so God keep your

  worship!

  Exit

  OLIVER    Farewell, good Charles. Now will I stir this

  gamester144: 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 gentle145,

  never schooled and yet learnèd, full of noble device146, of all

  sorts147 enchantingly beloved, and indeed so much in the heart

  of the world, and especially of my own people, who best

  know him, that I am altogether misprised149. But it shall not be

  so long: this wrestler shall clear150 all. Nothing remains but

  that I kindle the boy thither151, which now I’ll go about.

  Exit

  Act 1 Scene 2

  running scene 2

  Enter Rosalind and Celia

  CELIA    I pray thee Rosalind, sweet my coz1, be merry.

  ROSALIND    Dear Celia, I show more mirth than I am mistress of,

  and would3 you yet I were merrier? Unless you could teach

  me to forget a banished father, you must not learn4 me how to

  remember any extraordinary pleasure.

  CELIA    Herein I see thou lovest me not with the full weight

  that I love thee. If my uncle, thy banished father, had

  banished thy uncle, the duke my father, so8 thou hadst been

  still with me, I could have taught my love to take thy father

  for mine; so wouldst thou, if the truth of thy love to me were

  so righteously tempered11 as mine is to thee.

  ROSALIND    Well, I will forget the condition of my estate12, to

  rejoice in yours.

  CELIA    You know my father hath no child but I, nor none is

  like15 to have; and truly, when he dies, thou shalt be his heir;

  for what he hath taken away from thy father perforce16, I will

  render thee again in affection. By mine honour, I will, and

  when I break that oath, let me turn monster: therefore, my

  sweet Rose, my dear Rose, be merry.

  ROSALIND    From henceforth I will, coz, and devise sports20. Let

  me see, what think you of falling in love?

  CELIA    Marry, I prithee do, to make sport withal22: but love

  no man in good earnest, nor no further in sport neither than23

  with safety of a pure blush thou mayst in honour come off

  again.

  ROSALIND    What shall be our sport, then?

  CELIA    Let us sit and mock the good housewife27 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 woman31 doth most

  mistake in her gifts to women.

  CELIA    ’Tis true, for those that she makes fair33 she scarce

  makes honest34, and those that she makes honest she makes

  very ill-favouredly35.

  ROSALIND    Nay, now thou goest from Fortune’s office36 to

  Nature’s: Fortune reigns in gifts of the world, not in the

  lineaments38 of Nature.

  Enter Clown [Touchstone]

  CELIA    No? When Nature hath made a fair creature, may

  she not by Fortune fall into the fire40? Though Nature hath

  given us wit to flout at41 Fortune, hath not Fortune sent in this

  fool42 to cut off the argument?

  ROSALIND    Indeed, there is Fortune too hard for Nature, when

  Fortune makes Nature’s natural44 the cutter-off of Nature’s

  wit.

  CELIA    Peradventure46 this is not Fortune’s work neither, but

  Nature’s, who perceiveth our natural wits too dull to reason

  of such goddesses, hath sent this natural for our whetstone48,

  for always the dullness of the fool is the whetstone of the

  wits.— How now, wit? Whither wander you50?

  TOUCHSTONE    Mistress, you must come away to your father.

  CELIA    Were you made the messenger52?

  TOUCHSTONE    No, by mine honour, but I was bid to come for you.

  ROSALIND    Where learned you that oath, fool?

  TOUCHSTONE    Of a certain knight that swore by his honour they

  were good pancakes56, and swore by his honour the mustard

  was naught: now I’ll stand to57 it, the pancakes were naught,

  and the mustard was good, and yet was not the knight

  forsworn59.

  CELIA    How prove you that in the great heap of your

  knowledge?

  ROSALIND    Ay, marry, now unmuzzle your wisdom.

  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 forsworn. No more was

  this knight swearing by his honour, 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 meanest?

  TOUCHSTONE    
One that old Frederick, your father, loves.

  CELIA    My father’s love is enough to honour him enough;

  speak no more of him, you’ll be whipped for taxation74 one of

  these days.

  TOUCHSTONE    The more pity that fools may not speak wisely

  what wise men do foolishly.

  CELIA    By my troth78, 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 the Beau.

  Enter Le Beau

  ROSALIND    With his mouth full of news.

  CELIA    Which he will put82 on us, as pigeons feed their

  young.

  ROSALIND    Then shall we be news-crammed.

  CELIA    All the better: we shall be the more marketable85.—

  Bonjour, Monsieur Le Beau, what’s the news?

  LE BEAU    Fair princess, you have lost87 much good sport.

  CELIA    Sport? Of what colour88?

  LE BEAU    What colour, madam? How shall I answer you?

  ROSALIND    As wit and fortune will.

  TOUCHSTONE    Or as the destinies decrees.

  Imitates Le Beau

  CELIA    Well said, that was laid on with a trowel92.

  TOUCHSTONE    Nay, if I keep not my rank93—

  ROSALIND    Thou losest thy old94 smell.

  LE BEAU    You amaze95 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 yet to do99: 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 tale103.

  LE BEAU    Three proper104 young men, of excellent growth and

  presence.

  ROSALIND    With bills106 on their necks, ‘Be it known unto all men

  by these presents107.’

  LE BEAU    The eldest of the three wrestled with Charles, the

  duke’s wrestler, which Charles in a moment threw him and