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Samuel Johnson [1765], The plays of William Shakespeare, in eight volumes, with the corrections and illustrations of Various Commentators; To which are added notes by Sam. Johnson (Printed for J. and R. Tonson [and] C. Corbet [etc.], London) [word count] [S11001].
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ACT V. SCENE I. The FOREST. Enter Clown and Audrey.

Clown.

We shall find a time, Audrey—patience, gentle Audrey

Aud.

Faith, the Priest was good enough, for all the old gentleman's saying.

Clo.

A most wicked Sir Oliver, Audrey; a most vile Mar-text—but Audrey, there is a youth here in the Forest lays claim to you.

Aud.

Ay, I know who 'tis, he hath no interest in me in the world; here comes the man you mean.

Enter William.

Clo.

It is meat and drink to me to see a Clown. By my troth, we that have good wits, have much to answer for: we shall be flouting; we cannot hold.

Will.

Good ev'n, Audrey.

Aud.

God give ye good ev'n, William.

Will.

And good ev'n to you, Sir.

Clo.

Good ev'n, gentle friend—Cover thy head, cover thy head; nay, pr'ythee, be cover'd.—How old are you, friend?

Will.

Five and twenty, Sir.

Clo.

A ripe age: is thy name William?

Will.

William, Sir.

-- 91 --

Clo.

A fair name. Wast born i'th'forest here?

Will.

Ay, Sir, I thank God.

Clo.

Thank God—a good answer: art rich?

Will.

'Faith, Sir, so, so.

Clo.

So, so, is good, very good, very excellent good; and yet it is not; it is but so so. Art thou wise?

Will.

Ay, Sir, I have a pretty wit.

Clo.

Why, thou say'st well: I do now remember a Saying; the fool doth think he is wise, but the wise man knows himself to be a fool. 6 noteThe heathen philosopher, when he had a desire to eat a grape, would open his lips when he put it into his mouth; meaning thereby, that grapes were made to eat, and lips to open. You do love this maid?

Will.

I do, Sir.

Clo.

Give me your hand: art thou learned?

Will.

No, Sir.

Clo.

Then learn this of me; to have, is to have. For it is a figure in rhetorick, that drink being poured out of a cup into a glass, by filling the one doth empty the other. For all your writers do consent, that ipse is he: now you are not ipse; for I am he.

Will.

Which he, Sir?

Clo.

He, Sir, that must marry this woman; therefore you, Clown, abandon—which is in the vulgar, leave—the society—which in the boorish, is company —of this female—which in the common, is—woman; which together is, abandon the society of this female; or Clown, thou perishest; or, to thy better understanding, diest; or, to wit, I kill thee, make thee away, translate thy life into death, thy liberty into

-- 92 --

bondage; 7 noteI will deal in poison with thee, or in bastinado, or in steel; I will bandy with thee in faction; I will over-run thee with policy; I will kill thee a hundred and fifty ways; therefore tremble and depart.

Aud.

Do, good William.

Will.

God rest you merry, Sir.

[Exit. Enter Corin.

Cor.

Our master and mistress seek you; come away, away.

Clo.

Trip, Audrey; trip, Audrey; I attend, I attend.

[Exeunt. SCENE II. Enter Orlando and Oliver.

Orla.

Is't possible, that on so little acquaintance you should like her? that, but seeing, you should love her? and loving, woo? and wooing, she should grant? and will you persevere to enjoy her?

Oli.

Neither call the giddiness of it in question, the poverty of her, the small acquaintance, my sudden wooing, nor her sudden consenting; but say with me, I love Aliena; say with her, that she loves me; consent with both, that we may enjoy each other; it shall be to your Good; for my father's house, and all the revenue that was old Sir Rowland's, will I estate upon you, and here live and die a shepherd.

Enter Rosalind.

Orla.

You have my consent. Let your wedding be

-- 93 --

to morrow; thither will I invite the Duke, and all his contented followers: go you, and prepare Aliena; for, look you, here comes my Rosalind.

Ros.

God save you, brother.

Oli.

And you, fair sister.8 note

Ros.

Oh, my dear Orlando, how it grieves me to see thee wear thy heart in a scarf.

Orla.

It is my arm.

Ros.

I thought, thy heart had been wounded with the claws of a lion.

Orla.

Wounded it is, but with the eyes of a lady.

Ros.

Did your brother tell you how I counterfeited to swoon, when he shewed me your handkerchief?

Orla.

Ay, and greater wonders than that.

Ros.

O, I know where you are—Nay, 'tis true— There was never any thing so sudden, but the sight of two rams, and Cæsar's thrasonical brag of I came, saw and overcame: for your brother and my sister no sooner met, but they look'd; no sooner look'd, but they lov'd; no sooner lov'd, but they sigh'd; no sooner sigh'd, but they ask'd one another the reason; no sooner knew the reason, but they sought the remedy; and in these degrees have they made a pair of stairs to marriage, which they will climb incontinent, or else be incontinent before marriage; they are in the very wrath of love, and they will together. Clubs cannot part them.9 note

Orla.

They shall be married to morrow; and I will bid the Duke to the Nuptial. But, O, how bitter a thing it is to look into happiness through another man's eyes! by so much the more shall I to morrow be at the height of heart-heaviness, by how much I shall

-- 94 --

think my brother happy, in having what he wishes for.

Ros.

Why, then to morrow I cannot serve your turn for Rosalind?

Orla.

I can live no longer by thinking.

Ros.

I will weary you then no longer with idle talking. Know of me then, for now I speak to some purpose, that I know, you are a gentleman of good conceit. I speak not this, that you should bear a good opinion of my knowledge; insomuch, I say, I know what you are; neither do I labour for a greater esteem than may in some little measure draw a belief from 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, converst with a magician, most profound in his 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, you shall marry her. I know into what streights 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,1 note and without any danger.

Orla.

Speak'st thou in sober meaning?

Ros.

By my life, I do; which I tender dearly, tho' I say, I am a magician:2 note therefore, put you on your best array; bid your friends, for if you will be married to morrow, you shall; and to Rosalind, if you will.

-- 95 --

SCENE III. Enter Silvius and Phebe.

Look, here comes a lover of mine, and a lover of hers.

Phe.
Youth, you have done me much ungentleness,
To shew the letter that I writ to you.

Ros.
I care not, if I have: it is my study
To seem despightful and ungentle to you.
You are there follow'd by a faithful shepherd;
Look upon him, love him; he worships you.

Phe.
Good shepherd, tell this youth what 'tis to love.

Sil.
It is to be made all of sighs and tears,
And so am I for Phebe.

Phe.
And I for Ganymed.

Orla.
And I for Rosalind.

Ros.
And I for no woman.

Sil.
It is to be made all of faith and service;
And so am I for Phebe.

Phe.
And I for Ganymed.

Orla.
And I for Rosalind.

Ros.
And I for no woman.

Sil.
It is to be all made of fantasy,
All made of passion, and all made of wishes,
All adoration, duty and observance,
All humbleness, all patience, and impatience,
All purity, all trial, all observance;
And so am I for Phebe.

Phe.
And so am I for Ganymed.

Orla.
And so am I for Rosalind.

Ros.
And so am I for no woman.

Phe.

If this be so, why blame you me to love you?

[To Ros.

Sil.

If this be so, why blame you me to love you?

[To Phe.

-- 96 --

Orla.

If this be so, why blame you me to love you?

Ros.
Who do you speak to, why blame you me to love you?

Orla.
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 if I can; [To Orlando.]—I would love you, if I could; [To Phebe.]—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, [To Orlando.] if ever I satisfy'd 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 love Rosalind, meet [To Orlando.]—as you love Phebe, meet [To Silvius.]—and as I love no woman, I'll meet—So fare you well; I have left you commands.

Sil.

I'll not fail, if I live.

Phe.

Nor I.

Orla.

Nor I.

[Exeunt. SCENE IV. Enter Clown and Audrey.

Clo.

To morrow is the joyful day, Audrey—to morrow will we be married.

Aud.

I do desire it with all my heart; and, I hope, it is no dishonest desire, to desire to be a woman of the world. Here come two of the banish'd Duke's pages.

Enter two pages.

1 Page.

Well met, honest gentleman.

Clo.

By my troth, well met: come, sit, sit, and a Song.

2 Page.

We are for you, Sit i'th' middle.

-- 97 --

1 Page.

Shall we clap into't roundly, without hawking, or spitting, or saying we are hoarse, which are the only prologues to a bad voice?

2 Page.

I'faith, i'faith, and both in a tune, like two Gypsies on a horse.


SONG.3 note
It was a lover and his lass,
  With a hey, and a ho, and a hey nonino,
That o'er the green corn-field did pass,

  In the spring time; the pretty spring time,
When birds did sing, hey ding a ding, ding,
Sweet lovers love the spring.

Between the acres of the rye,
  With a hey, and a ho, and a hey nonino,
These pretty country-folks would lie,

  In the spring time, &c.

The Carrol they began that hour,
  With a hey, and a ho, and a hey nonino,
How that a life was but a flower,

  In the spring time, &c.

And therefore take the present time,
  With a hey, and a ho, and a hey nonino;
For love is crowned with the prime,

  In the spring time, &c.

Clo.

Truly, young gentleman, though there was no great matter in the ditty, yet the note was very untunable.4 note

-- 98 --

1 Page.

You are deceiv'd, Sir, we kept time, we lost not our time.

Clo.

By my troth, yes: I count it but time lost to hear such a foolish Song. God b'w'you, and God mend your voices. Come, Audrey.

[Exeunt. SCENE V. Changes to another Part of the Forest. Enter Duke Senior, Amiens, Jaques, Orlando, Oliver, and Celia.

Duke Sen.
Dost thou believe, Orlando, that the boy
Can do all this that he hath promised?

Orla.
I sometimes do believe, and sometimes do not;
As those that fear, they hope, and know they fear.5 note

Enter Rosalind, Silvius, and Phebe.

Ros.
Patience once more, whiles our compact is urg'd:

-- 99 --


You say, if I bring in your Rosalind, [To the Duke.
You will bestow her on Orlando here?

Duke Sen.
That would I, had I Kingdoms to give with her.

Ros.
And you say, you will have her when I bring her?
[To Orlando.

Orla.
That would I, were I of all Kingdoms King.

Ros.
You say, you'll marry me, if I be willing.
[To Phebe.

Phe.
That will I, should I die the hour after.

Ros.
But if you do refuse to marry me,
You'll give yourself to this most faithful shepherd.

Phe.
So is the bargain.

Ros.
You say, that you will have Phebe, if she will?
[To Silvius.

Sil.
Tho' to have her and death were both one thing

Ros.
I've promis'd to make all this matter even.
Keep you your word, O Duke, to give your daughter:
You yours, Orlando, to receive his daughter:
Keep your word, Phebe, that you'll marry me,
Or else, refusing me, to wed this shepherd:
Keep your word, Silvius, that you'll marry her,
If she refuse me; and from hence I go
To make these doubts all even.
[Exeunt Ros. and Celia.

Duke Sen.
I do remember in this shepherd-boy
Some lively touches of my daughter's favour.

Orla.
My lord, the first time that I ever saw him,
Methought, he was a brother to your daughter;
But, my good Lord, this boy is forest-born,
And hath been tutor'd in the rudiments
Of many desperate studies by his uncle;
Whom he reports to be a great magician,
Obscured in the circle of this forest.

-- 100 --

SCENE VI. Enter Clown and Audrey.

Jaq.

There is, sure, another flood toward, and these couples are coming to the Ark. 6 note

Here come a pair of very strange beasts, which in all tongues are call'd fools.

Clo.

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.

Clo.

If any man doubt that, let him put me to my purgation. I have trod a measure; I have flatter'd a lady; I have been politick with my friend, smooth with mine enemy; I have undone three taylors; I have had four quarrels, and like to have fought one.

Jaq.

And how was That ta'en up?

Clo.

'Faith, we met; and found, the quarrel was upon the seventh cause.7 note

Jaq.

How the seventh cause?—Good my lord, like this fellow.

Duke Sen.

I like him very well.

Clo.

God'ild you, Sir, I desire you of the like:8 note I press in here, Sir, amongst the rest of the country copulatives, to swear, and to forswear, according as

-- 101 --

marriage binds, and blood breaks9 note

—a poor virgin, Sir, an ill-favour'd thing, Sir, but mine own— a poor humour of mine, Sir, 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 Sen.

By my faith, he is very swift and sententious.

Clo.

According to the fool's bolt, Sir, and such dulcet diseases.* note

Jaq.

But, for the seventh cause; how did you find the quarrel on the seventh cause?

Clo.

Upon a lye seven times removed; (bear your body more seeming, Audrey) as thus, Sir; I did dislike the cut of a certain Courtier's beard;1 note







he sent me word, if I said his beard was not cut well, he was in the mind it was. This is call'd 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 call'd the Quip modest. If again, it was not well cut, he disabled my judgment. This is call'd the Reply churlish. If again, it was not well cut, he would answer, I spake not true. This is call'd the Reproof valiant. If again, it was not well cut, he would say, I lye. This is call'd the Countercheck quarrelsome; and so, the Lye circumstantial, and the Lye direct.

-- 102 --

Jaq.

And how oft did you say, his beard was not well cut?

Clo.

I durst go no further than the Lye circumstantial; nor he durst not give me the Lye direct, and so we measur'd swords and parted.

Jaq.

Can you nominate in order now the degrees of the Lye?

Clo.

2 noteO Sir, we quarrel in print, by the book; as you have books for good manners. I will name you

-- 103 --

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 Lye with circumstance; the seventh, the Lye direct. All these you may avoid, but the Lye 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 peace-maker; much virtue in If.

Jaq.

Is not this a rare fellow, my Lord? he's good at any thing, and yet a fool.

Duke Sen.

He uses his folly like a stalking horse, and under the presentation of that he shoots his wit.

SCENE VII. 3 noteEnter Hymen, Rosalind in woman's cloaths, and Celia. Still Musick.
Hym.
Then is there mirth in heav'n,
When earthly things made even
  Atone together.
Good Duke, receive thy daughter,
Hymen from heaven brought her,
  Yea, brought her hither:
That thou might'st join her hand with his,
Whose heart within his bosom is.

Ros.
To you I give myself; for I am yours. [To the Duke.
To you I give myself; for I am yours.
[To Orlando.

-- 104 --

Duke Sen.
If there be truth in sight, you are my daughter.

Orla.
If there be truth in sight,* note you are my Rosalind.

Phe.
If sight and shape be true,
Why, then my love adieu!

Ros.
I'll have no father, if you be not he. [To the Duke.
I'll have no husband, if you be not he. [To Orlando.
Nor ne'er wed woman, if you be not she.
[To Phebe.

Hym.
Peace, hoa! I bar confusion:
'Tis I must make conclusion
  Of these most strange events:
Here's eight that must take hands,
To join in Hymen's bands,
  If truth holds true contents.4 note
You and you no Cross shall part; [To Orlando and Rosalind.
You and you are heart in heart; [To Oliver and Celia.
You to his love must accord,
Or have a woman to your lord. [To Phebe.
You and you are sure together,
As the winter to foul weather: [To the Clown and Audrey.
Whiles a wedlock-hymn we sing,
Feed yourselves with questioning:
That reason wonder may diminish,
How thus we meet, and these things finish.

-- 105 --


SONG.
Wedding is great Juno's Crown,
  O blessed bond of board and bed!
'Tis Hymen peoples every town,
  High wedlock then be honoured:
Honour, high honour and renown
To Hymen, God of every town!

Duke Sen.
O my dear niece, welcome thou art to me,
Ev'n 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.
SCENE VIII. Enter Jaques de Boys.

Jaq. de B.
Let me have audience for a word or two—
I am the second son of old Sir Rowland,
That bring these tidings to this fair assembly.
Duke Frederick hearing, how that every day
Men of great worth resorted to this forest,
Address'd a mighty power, which were on foot
In his own conduct purposely to take
His brother here, and put him to the sword:
And to the skirts of this wild wood he came,
Where meeting with an old religious man,
After some question with him, was converted
Both from his enterprize, and from the world;
His Crown bequeathing to his banish'd brother,
And all their lands restor'd to them again,
That were with him exil'd. This to be true,
I do engage my life.

Duke Sen.
Welcome young man:
Thou offer'st fairly to thy brother's wedding;
To one, his lands with-held; and to the other,

-- 106 --


A land itself at large, a potent Dukedom.
First, in this forest, let us do those ends
That here were well begun, and well begot:
And, after, every of this happy number,
That have endur'd shrewd days and nights with us,
Shall share the good of our returned fortune,
According to the measure of their states.
Mean time, forget this new-fall'n dignity,
And fall into our rustick revelry:
Play, musick; and you brides and bridegrooms all,
With measure heap'd in joy, to th' measures fall.

Jaq.
Sir, by your patience: if I heard you rightly,
The Duke hath put on a religious life,
And thrown into neglect the pompous Court.

Jaq. de B.
He hath.

Jaq.
To him will I: out of these convertites
There is much matter to be heard and learn'd.
You to your former Honour I bequeath, [To the Duke.
Your patience and your virtue well deserve it.
You to a love, that your true faith doth merit; [To Orla.
You to your land, and love, and great allies; [To Oli.
You to a long and well deserved bed; To Silv.
And you to wrangling; for thy loving voyage [To the Clown.
Is but for two months victual'd—so to your pleasures:
I am for other than for dancing measures.

Duke Sen.
Stay, Jaques, stay.

Jaq.
To see no pastime, I—what you would have,
I'll stay to know at your abandon'd Cave.
[Exit.

Duke Sen.
Proceed, proceed; we will begin these rites;
As, we do trust they'll end, in true delights.

-- 107 --

EPILOGUE. Ros.

It is not the fashion to see the lady the Epilogue; but it is no more unhandsome, than to see the lord the Prologue. If it be true, that 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,5 note that am neither a good Epilogue, nor can insinuate with you in the behalf of a good Play? I am not furnish'd like a beggar;6 note 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,7 note

for the love you bear to men, to like as much of this Play as pleases you: and I charge you, O men, for the love you bear to women, (as I perceive by your simpring, none of you hate them)

-- 108 --

that between you and the women, the Play may please. If I were a woman,8 note I would kiss as many of you as had beards that pleas'd me, complexions that lik'd me, and breaths that I defy'd 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 farewel.

[Exeunt omnes.9 note

-- 109 --

Previous section


Samuel Johnson [1765], The plays of William Shakespeare, in eight volumes, with the corrections and illustrations of Various Commentators; To which are added notes by Sam. Johnson (Printed for J. and R. Tonson [and] C. Corbet [etc.], London) [word count] [S11001].
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