As You Like It (Folger Shakespeare Library) Read online

  you saw yourself with your eyes or knew yourself with your

  judgement, the fear of your adventure153 would counsel you to

  a more equal154 enterprise. We pray you for your own sake to

  embrace your own safety and give over this attempt.

  ROSALIND Do, young sir: your reputation shall not therefore be

  misprized. We will make it our suit157 to the duke that the

  wrestling might not go forward.

  ORLANDO I beseech you, punish me not with your hard

  thoughts, wherein I confess me much guilty, to deny so fair

  and excellent ladies anything. But let your fair eyes and

  gentle wishes go with me to my trial; wherein if I be foiled162,

  there is but one shamed that was never gracious163, if killed,

  but one dead that is willing to be so. I shall do my friends164 no

  wrong, for I have none to lament me, the world no injury, for

  in it I have nothing. Only in the world I fill up a place, which

  may be better supplied when I have made it empty.

  ROSALIND The little strength that I have, I would it were with

  you.

  CELIA And mine, to eke out170 hers.

  ROSALIND Fare you well: pray heaven I be deceived171 in you!

  CELIA Your heart's desires be with you!

  CHARLES Come, where is this young gallant that is so desirous

  to lie with his mother earth174?

  ORLANDO Ready, sir, but his will175 hath in it a more modest

  working176.

  DUKE FREDERICK You shall try but one fall177.

  CHARLES No, I warrant178 your grace you shall not entreat him

  to a second, that have so mightily persuaded him from a first.

  ORLANDO You mean to mock me after, you should not have

  mocked me before. But come your ways181.

  ROSALIND Now Hercules be thy speed182, young man!

  CELIA I would I were invisible, to catch the strong fellow by

  the leg.

  Wrestle

  ROSALIND O excellent young man!

  Charles is thrown

  CELIA If I had a thunderbolt in mine eye,

  I can tell who should down187.

  Shout

  DUKE FREDERICK No more, no more.

  ORLANDO Yes, I beseech your grace:

  I am not yet well breathed190.

  DUKE FREDERICK How dost thou, Charles?

  LE BEAU He cannot speak, my lord.

  Charles is carried out/To Orlando

  DUKE FREDERICK Bear him away.--What is thy name,

  young man?

  ORLANDO Orlando, my liege, the youngest son of Sir Rowland

  de Bois.

  DUKE FREDERICK I would thou hadst been son to some man else:

  The world esteemed thy father honourable,

  But I did find him still199 mine enemy.

  Thou shouldst have better pleased me with this deed

  Hadst thou descended from another house.

  But fare thee well, thou art a gallant youth.

  I would thou hadst told me of another father.

  Exit Duke [with others; Celia, Orlando and Rosalind remain]

  To Rosalind

  CELIA Were I my father, coz, would I do this?

  Aside?

  ORLANDO I am more proud to be Sir Rowland's son,

  His youngest son, and would not change that calling206

  To be adopted heir to Frederick.

  To Celia

  ROSALIND My father loved Sir Rowland as his soul,

  And all the world was of my father's mind:

  Had I before known this young man his son,

  I should have given him tears unto211 entreaties,

  Ere212 he should thus have ventured.

  To Rosalind

  CELIA Gentle cousin,

  Let us go thank him and encourage him.

  My father's rough and envious215 disposition

  To Orlando

  Sticks216 me at heart.-- Sir, you have well deserved,

  If you do keep your promises in love

  But justly, as you have exceeded all promise218,

  Your mistress219 shall be happy.

  Gives him a chain from her neck

  ROSALIND Gentleman,

  Wear this for me, one out of suits221 with fortune,

  That could give more, but that her hand lacks means.

  To Celia

  Shall we go, coz?

  CELIA Ay.-- Fare you well, fair gentleman.

  ORLANDO Can I not say, I thank you? My better parts225

  Are all thrown down, and that which here stands up

  Is but a quintain227, a mere lifeless block.

  ROSALIND He calls us back. My pride fell with my fortunes.

  To Orlando

  I'll ask him what he would229.-- Did you call, sir?

  Sir, you have wrestled well and overthrown

  More than your enemies.

  CELIA Will you go, coz?

  ROSALIND Have with you233. Fare you well.

  Exeunt [Rosalind and Celia]

  ORLANDO What passion hangs these weights upon my tongue?

  I cannot speak to her, yet she urged conference235.

  Enter Le Beau

  O poor Orlando, thou art overthrown!

  Or237 Charles or something weaker masters thee.

  LE BEAU Good sir, I do in friendship counsel you

  To leave this place. Albeit you have deserved

  High commendation, true applause and love,

  Yet such is now the duke's condition241

  That he misconstrues all that you have done.

  The duke is humorous: what he is indeed243

  More suits you to conceive244 than I to speak of.

  ORLANDO I thank you, sir; and pray you tell me this:

  Which of the two was daughter of the duke

  That here was at the wrestling?

  LE BEAU Neither his daughter, if we judge by manners,

  But yet indeed the taller249 is his daughter,

  The other is daughter to the banished duke,

  And here detained by her usurping uncle

  To keep his daughter company, whose loves

  Are dearer than the natural bond of sisters.

  But I can tell you that of late this duke

  Hath ta'en displeasure 'gainst his gentle255 niece,

  Grounded upon no other argument256

  But that the people praise her for her virtues

  And pity her for her good father's sake;

  And, on my life, his malice 'gainst the lady

  Will suddenly260 break forth. Sir, fare you well.

  Hereafter, in a better world than this,

  I shall desire more love and knowledge262 of you.

  ORLANDO I rest much bounden263 to you. Fare you well.

  [Exit Le Beau]

  Thus must I from the smoke into the smother264,

  From tyrant duke unto a tyrant brother.

  But heavenly Rosalind!

  Exit

  Act 1 Scene 3

  running scene 2 continues

  Enter Celia and Rosalind

  CELIA Why, cousin? Why, Rosalind? Cupid1 have mercy, not

  a word?

  ROSALIND Not one to throw at a dog.

  CELIA No, thy words are too precious to be cast away upon

  curs5, throw some of them at me; come, lame me with

  reasons6.

  ROSALIND Then there were7 two cousins laid up, when the one

  should be lamed with reasons and the other mad without

  any.

  CELIA But is all this for your father?

  ROSALIND No, some of it is for my child's father11. O, how full of

  briars is this working-day12 world!

  CELIA They are but burs13, cousin, thrown upon thee in

  holiday foolery: if we walk not in the trodden paths our very

  petticoats15 will catch them
.

  ROSALIND I could shake them off my coat16: these burs are in my

  heart.

  CELIA Hem18 them away.

  ROSALIND I would try, if I could cry 'hem' and have19 him.

  CELIA Come, come, wrestle20 with thy affections.

  ROSALIND O, they take the part of21 a better wrestler than myself!

  CELIA O, a good wish upon you! You will try22 in time, in

  despite of a fall. But turning these jests out of service23, let us

  talk in good earnest: is it possible, on such a sudden, you

  should fall into so strong a liking with old Sir Rowland's

  youngest son?

  ROSALIND The duke my father loved his father dearly.

  CELIA Doth it therefore ensue that you should love his son

  dearly? By this kind of chase29, I should hate him, for my

  father hated his father dearly; yet I hate not Orlando.

  ROSALIND No, faith, hate him not, for my sake.

  CELIA Why should I not?32 Doth he not deserve well?

  Enter Duke with Lords

  ROSALIND Let me love him for that, and do you love him

  because I do. Look, here comes the duke.

  CELIA With his eyes full of anger.

  To Rosalind

  DUKE FREDERICK Mistress, dispatch you with your safest haste36

  And get you from our court.

  ROSALIND Me, uncle?

  DUKE FREDERICK You, cousin

  Within these ten days if that thou be'st found

  So near our public court as twenty miles,

  Thou diest for it.

  ROSALIND I do beseech your grace,

  Let me the knowledge of my fault bear with me:

  If with myself I hold intelligence45

  Or have acquaintance with mine own desires,

  If that I do not dream or be not frantic47 --

  As I do trust I am not -- then, dear48 uncle,

  Never so much as in a thought unborn

  Did I offend your highness.

  DUKE FREDERICK Thus do all traitors.

  If their purgation52 did consist in words,

  They are as innocent as grace53 itself;

  Let it suffice thee that I trust thee not.

  ROSALIND Yet your mistrust cannot make me a traitor;

  Tell me whereon56 the likelihood depends.

  DUKE FREDERICK Thou art thy father's daughter, there's enough.

  ROSALIND So was I when your highness took his dukedom,

  So was I when your highness banished him;

  Treason is not inherited, my lord,

  Or if we did derive it from our friends61,

  What's that to me? My father was no traitor.

  Then, good my liege, mistake me not so much

  To think my poverty is treacherous.

  CELIA Dear sovereign, hear me speak.

  DUKE FREDERICK Ay, Celia, we stayed66 her for your sake,

  Else had she with her father ranged67 along.

  CELIA I did not then entreat to have her stay,

  It was your pleasure and your own remorse69.

  I was too young70 that time to value her,

  But now I know her: if she be a traitor,

  Why so am I. We still72 have slept together,

  Rose at an instant, learned, played, eat73 together,

  And wheresoe'er we went, like Juno's swans74,

  Still we went coupled and inseparable.

  DUKE FREDERICK She is too subtle for thee, and her smoothness76,

  Her very silence and her patience

  Speak to the people, and they pity her.

  Thou art a fool: she robs thee of thy name79,

  And thou wilt show more bright and seem more virtuous

  When she is gone. Then open not thy lips.

  Firm and irrevocable is my doom82

  Which I have passed upon her: she is banished.

  CELIA Pronounce that sentence then on me, my liege:

  I cannot live out of her company.

  DUKE FREDERICK You are a fool. You, niece, provide86 yourself:

  If you outstay the time, upon mine honour,

  And in the greatness88 of my word, you die.

  Exeunt Duke and others

  CELIA O my poor Rosalind, whither wilt thou go?

  Wilt thou change90 fathers? I will give thee mine.

  I charge thee be not thou more grieved than I am.

  ROSALIND I have more cause.

  CELIA Thou hast not, cousin.

  Prithee be cheerful; know'st thou not the duke

  Hath banished me, his daughter?

  ROSALIND That he hath not.

  CELIA No, hath not? Rosalind lacks then the love

  Which teacheth thee that thou and I am one.

  Shall we be sundered99? Shall we part, sweet girl?

  No, let my father seek another heir:

  Therefore devise with me how we may fly,

  Whither to go and what to bear with us.

  And do not seek to take your change103 upon you,

  To bear your griefs yourself and leave me out,

  For, by this heaven, now at our sorrows pale105,

  Say what thou canst, I'll go along with thee.

  ROSALIND Why, whither shall we go?

  CELIA To seek my uncle in the Forest of Arden.

  ROSALIND Alas, what danger will it be to us,

  Maids as we are, to travel forth so far!

  Beauty provoketh thieves sooner than gold.

  CELIA I'll put myself in poor and mean112 attire

  And with a kind of umber113 smirch my face.

  The like do you. So shall we pass along

  And never stir assailants.

  ROSALIND Were it not better,

  Because that I am more than common tall,

  That I did suit me all points118 like a man?

  A gallant curtle-axe119 upon my thigh,

  A boar-spear120 in my hand, and -- in my heart

  Lie there what hidden woman's fear there will --

  We'll have a swashing122 and a martial outside,

  As many other mannish cowards have

  That do outface it with their semblances124.

  CELIA What shall I call thee when thou art a man?

  ROSALIND I'll have no worse a name than Jove's126 own page,

  And therefore look you call me Ganymede127.

  But what will you be called?

  CELIA Something that hath a reference to my state129:

  No longer Celia, but Aliena130.

  ROSALIND But, cousin, what if we assayed131 to steal

  The clownish fool out of your father's court?

  Would he not be a comfort to our travel133?

  CELIA He'll go along o'er the wide world with me.

  Leave me alone to woo135 him. Let's away,

  And get our jewels and our wealth together,

  Devise the fittest time and safest way

  To hide us from pursuit that will be made

  After my flight. Now go in we content139

  To liberty and not to banishment.

  Exeunt

  Act 2 Scene 1

  running scene 3

  Enter Duke Senior, Amiens and two or three Lords, like foresters

  DUKE SENIOR Now, my co-mates and brothers in exile,

  Hath not old custom2 made this life more sweet

  Than that of painted pomp3? Are not these woods

  More free from peril than the envious4 court?

  Here feel we not the penalty of Adam5,

  The seasons' difference, as6 the icy fang

  And churlish chiding7 of the winter's wind,

  Which, when it bites and blows upon my body,

  Even till I shrink with cold, I smile and say

  'This is no flattery: these are counsellors

  That feelingly11 persuade me what I am.'

  Sweet are the uses12 of adversity,

  Which, like the toad, ugly and venomous13,

  Wears yet
a precious jewel in his head.

  And this our life exempt from public haunt15

  Finds tongues16 in trees, books in the running brooks,

  Sermons in stones and good in everything.

  AMIENS I would not change18 it. Happy is your grace

  That can translate19 the stubbornness of fortune

  Into so quiet and so sweet a style20.

  DUKE SENIOR Come, shall we go and kill us venison?

  And yet it irks me the poor dappled fools22,

  Being native burghers of this desert23 city,

  Should in their own confines with forked heads24

  Have their round haunches gored.

  FIRST LORD Indeed, my lord,

  The melancholy Jaques grieves at that,

  And in that kind28 swears you do more usurp

  Than doth your brother that hath banished you.

  Today my Lord of Amiens and myself

  Did steal behind him as he lay along31

  Under an oak whose antique32 root peeps out

  Upon the brook that brawls33 along this wood,

  To the which place a poor sequestered34 stag

  That from the hunter's aim had ta'en a hurt,

  Did come to languish; and indeed, my lord,

  The wretched animal heaved forth such groans

  That their discharge did stretch his leathern coat

  Almost to bursting, and the big round tears

  Coursed40 one another down his innocent nose

  In piteous chase: and thus the hairy fool

  Much marked of42 the melancholy Jaques,

  Stood on th'extremest verge43 of the swift brook,

  Augmenting it with tears.

  DUKE SENIOR But what said Jaques?

  Did he not moralize46 this spectacle?

  FIRST LORD O, yes, into a thousand similes.

  First, for his weeping into the needless48 stream;

  'Poor deer,' quoth he, 'thou mak'st a testament49

  As worldlings do, giving thy sum of more50

  To that which had too much.' Then, being there alone,

  Left and abandoned of his velvet friend52,

  ' 'Tis right,' quoth he, 'thus misery doth part53

  The flux of company.' Anon a careless54 herd,

  Full of the pasture, jumps along by him

  And never stays56 to greet him. 'Ay,' quoth Jaques,

  'Sweep on, you fat and greasy57 citizens,

  'Tis just the fashion; wherefore58 do you look

  Upon that poor and broken bankrupt there?'

  Thus most invectively60 he pierceth through

  The body of country, city, court,

  Yea, and of this our life, swearing that we

  Are mere63 usurpers, tyrants, and what's worse,

  To fright the animals and to kill them up64

  In their assigned and native dwelling-place.

  DUKE SENIOR And did you leave him in this contemplation?

  SECOND LORD We did, my lord, weeping and commenting67

  Upon the sobbing deer.

  DUKE SENIOR Show me the place.

  I love to cope70 him in these sullen fits,

  For then he's full of matter71.

  FIRST LORD I'll bring you to him straight72.

  Exeunt

  Act 2 Scene 2