As You Like It (8 page)
Authors: William Shakespeare
Enter Corin and
Silvius
ROSALIND
Ay, be so, good Touchstone. Look you, who comes
They stand aside
here: a young man and an old in
solemn
16
talk.
CORIN
That is the way to make her scorn you still.
SILVIUS
O Corin, that thou knew’st how I do love her!
CORIN
I partly guess, for I have loved ere now.
SILVIUS
No, Corin, being old, thou canst not guess,
Though in thy youth thou wast as true a lover
As ever sighed upon a midnight pillow:
But if thy love were ever like to mine —
As sure I think did never man love so —
How many actions most ridiculous
Hast thou been drawn to by thy
fantasy
26
?
CORIN
Into a thousand that I have forgotten.
SILVIUS
O, thou didst then never love so
heartily
28
!
If thou rememb’rest not the slightest
folly
29
That ever love did make thee run into,
Thou hast not loved.
Or if thou hast not sat as I do now,
Wearing
33
thy hearer in thy mistress’ praise,
Thou hast not loved.
Or if thou hast not
broke from
35
company
Abruptly, as my passion now makes me,
Thou hast not loved.
O
Phoebe
38
, Phoebe, Phoebe!
Exit
ROSALIND
Alas, poor shepherd!
Searching of
thy
wound
39
, I
have by hard
adventure
40
found mine own.
TOUCHSTONE
And I mine. I remember when I was in love, I
broke my
sword
upon a stone and bid
him
42
take that for
coming
a-night
43
to Jane Smile. And I remember the kissing of
her
batler
and the cow’s
dugs
that her pretty
chopt
44
hands
had
milked
; and I remember the wooing of a
peascod
45
instead
of her, from whom I took two
cods
46
and, giving her them
again, said with weeping tears, ‘
Wear
47
these for my sake.’ We
that are true lovers run into strange
capers
48
; but as all is
mortal
49
in nature, so is all nature in love mortal in folly.
ROSALIND
Thou speakest wiser than thou art
ware
50
of.
TOUCHSTONE
Nay, I shall ne’er be ware of mine own
wit
51
till I
break my shins against it.
ROSALIND
Jove, Jove! This shepherd’s passion
Is much
upon my fashion
54
.
TOUCHSTONE
And mine, but it grows
something
stale
55
with me.
CELIA
I pray you one of you question
yond
56
man
If he for gold will give us any food.
I faint almost to death.
To Corin
TOUCHSTONE
Holla, you
clown
59
!
ROSALIND
Peace, fool, he’s not thy kinsman.
CORIN
Who calls?
TOUCHSTONE
Your betters, sir.
CORIN
Else are they very wretched.
ROSALIND
Peace, I say. Good
even
64
to you, friend.
CORIN
And to you, gentle sir, and to you all.
ROSALIND
I prithee, shepherd, if that love or gold
Can in this
desert
place buy
entertainment
67
,
Bring us where we may rest ourselves and feed:
Here’s a young maid with travel much oppressed
And faints for
succour
70
.
CORIN
Fair sir, I pity her
And wish, for her sake more than for mine own,
My fortunes were more able to relieve her.
But I am shepherd to another man
And do not
shear the fleeces that I graze
75
:
My master is of churlish disposition
And little
recks
77
to find the way to heaven
By doing deeds of hospitality.
Besides, his
cote
, his flocks and
bounds of feed
79
Are now on sale, and at our
sheepcote
80
now,
By reason of his absence, there is nothing
That you will feed on. But what is, come see,
And
in my voice
83
most welcome shall you be.
ROSALIND
What is he that shall buy his flock and pasture?
CORIN
That young
swain
that you saw here
but erewhile
85
,
That little cares for buying anything.
ROSALIND
I pray thee if it
stand
87
with honesty,
Buy thou the cottage, pasture and the flock,
And thou shalt have
to pay
89
for it of us.
CELIA
And we will
mend
90
thy wages. I like this place
And willingly could
waste
91
my time in it.
CORIN
Assuredly the thing is to be sold.
Go with me: if you like upon report
The soil, the profit and this kind of life,
I will your very faithful
feeder
95
be
And buy it with your gold right
suddenly
96
.
Exeunt
running scene 7
Enter Amiens, Jaques and others
AMIENS
Song
Under the
greenwood
1
tree
Who
2
loves to lie with me,
Unto the sweet bird’s
throat
4
,
Come hither, come hither, come hither:
Here shall he see no enemy
But winter and rough weather.
JAQUES
More, more, I prithee more.
AMIENS
It will make you melancholy, Monsieur Jaques.
JAQUES
I thank it. More, I prithee more.
I can suck melancholy out of a song,
As a weasel sucks eggs. More, I prithee more.
AMIENS
My voice is
ragged
13
. I know I cannot please you.
JAQUES
I do not desire you to please me,
I do desire you to sing.
Come, more: another
stanzo
16
— call you ’em stanzos?
AMIENS
What you will, Monsieur Jaques.
JAQUES
Nay,
I care not for their names. They owe me
18
nothing
. Will you sing?
AMIENS
More at your request than to please myself.
JAQUES
Well then, if ever I thank any man, I’ll thank you.
But
that
they call
compliment
is like
th’encounter
22
of two
dog-apes
23
, and when a man thanks me heartily, methinks I
have given him a penny and he renders me the
beggarly
24
thanks. Come, sing; and you that will not, hold your
tongues.
AMIENS
Well, I’ll
end
the song. Sirs,
cover the while
27
. The
duke will drink under this tree. He hath been all this day to
A table with food and drink is set out
look
29
you.
JAQUES
And I have been all this day to avoid him.
He is too
disputable
31
for my company:
I think of as many
matters
32
as he, but I give
Heaven thanks and make no boast of them.
Come, warble, come.
Song. All together here
Who doth ambition shun
And loves to live
i’th’sun
36
,
Seeking the food he eats
And pleased with what he gets,
Come hither, come hither, come hither:
Here shall he see etc.
40
JAQUES
I’ll give you a verse to this note
Hands Amiens a paper
That I made yesterday
in despite of my invention
42
.
AMIENS
And I’ll sing it. Thus it goes:
Sings
If it do come to pass
That any man turn ass,
Leaving his wealth and ease,
A stubborn will to please,
Ducdame
48
, ducdame, ducdame:
Other lords gather around him in a circle, examining the paper
Here shall he see
gross
49
fools as he,
An if
50
he will come to me.
What’s that ‘ducdame’?
JAQUES
’Tis a
Greek
invocation, to call fools into a
circle
52
. I’ll
go sleep, if I can. If I cannot, I’ll
rail
against
all the first-born
53
AMIENS
And I’ll go seek the duke. His
banquet
55
is prepared.
Exeunt
[
separately
]
running scene 7 continues
Enter Orlando and Adam
ADAM
Dear master, I can go no further.
Lies down
O, I die for food! Here lie I down,
And measure out my grave. Farewell, kind master.
ORLANDO
Why, how now, Adam? No greater heart in thee?
Live a little,
comfort
5
a little, cheer thyself a little. If this
uncouth
6
forest yield anything savage, I will either be food for
it or bring it for food to thee. Thy
conceit
7
is nearer death than
thy powers. For my sake be
comfortable
8
, hold death awhile at
the arm’s end. I will here be with thee
presently
9
, and if I bring
thee not something to eat, I will give thee leave to die. But if
thou diest before I come, thou art a mocker of my labour. Well
said
! Thou look’st
cheerly
12
, and I’ll be with thee quickly. Yet
thou liest in the bleak air. Come, I will bear thee to some
shelter, and thou shalt not die for lack of a dinner, if there live
anything in this desert. Cheerly, good Adam!
Exeunt
running scene 7 continues
Enter Duke Senior and Lord
[
s
]
, like outlaws
DUKE SENIOR
I think he be transformed into a beast,
For I can nowhere find him like a man.
FIRST LORD
My lord, he is but even now gone hence:
Here was he merry, hearing of a song.
DUKE SENIOR
If he,
compact of jars
5
, grow musical,
We shall have shortly discord in the
spheres
6
.
Go, seek him: tell him I would speak with him.
Enter Jaques
FIRST LORD
He saves my labour by his own approach.
DUKE SENIOR
Why, how now, monsieur! What a life is this,
That your poor friends must woo your company?
What, you look merrily.
JAQUES
A fool, a fool! I met a fool i’th’forest,
A
motley
13
fool — a miserable world.
As I do live by food, I met a fool
Who laid him down and basked him in the sun,
And railed on Lady Fortune in good terms,
In good
set terms
17
, and yet a motley fool.
‘Good morrow, fool’, quoth I. ‘No, sir,’ quoth he,
‘
Call me not fool till heaven hath sent me fortune
19
.’
And then he drew a
dial
from his
poke
20
,
And looking on it with lack-lustre eye,
Says very wisely, ‘It is ten o’clock,
Thus we may see’, quoth he, ‘how the world
wags
23
.
’Tis but an
hour
ago since it was
nine
24
,
And after one hour more ’twill be eleven,
And so, from hour to hour, we
ripe
26
and ripe,
And then, from hour to hour, we
rot
27
and rot,
And thereby hangs a
tale
28
.’ When I did hear
The motley fool thus
moral
29
on the time,
My lungs began to crow like
chanticleer
30
,
That fools should be so
deep contemplative
31
,
And I did laugh
sans
32
intermission
An hour by his dial. O noble fool!
A worthy fool! Motley’s the only
wear
34
.
DUKE SENIOR
What fool is this?
JAQUES
O worthy fool! One that hath been a courtier,
And says, if ladies be but young and fair,
They have the gift to know it. And in his brain,
Which is as
dry
as the
remainder
39
biscuit
After a voyage, he hath strange
places
40
crammed
With observation, the which he
vents
41
In mangled forms. O, that I were a fool!
I am ambitious for a motley coat.
DUKE SENIOR
Thou shalt have one.
JAQUES
It is my only
suit
45
,
Provided that you
weed
46
your better judgements
Of all opinion that grows
rank
47
in them
That I am wise. I must have liberty
Withal
, as large a
charter
49
as the wind,
To blow on whom I please, for so fools have.
And they that are most
gallèd
51
with my folly,
They most must laugh. And why, sir, must they so?
The ‘why’ is plain as
way
to parish
church
53
:
He
that a fool doth very wisely hit
54
Doth very foolishly, although he
smart
55
,
Seem
senseless of the bob
56
. If not,
The wise man’s folly is
anatomized
57
Even by the
squandering glances
58
of the fool.
Invest
59
me in my motley, give me leave
To speak my mind, and I will through and through
Cleanse
61
the foul body of th’infected world,
If they will patiently receive my medicine.
DUKE SENIOR
Fie on thee! I can tell what thou wouldst do.
JAQUES
What, for a
counter
64
, would I do but good?
DUKE SENIOR
Most mischievous foul sin, in chiding sin.
For thou thyself hast been a
libertine
66
,
As sensual as the
brutish sting
67
itself;
And all
th’embossèd sores and headed evils
68
That thou with licence of free foot hast caught
Wouldst thou
disgorge
70
into the general world.
JAQUES
Why, who cries out on
pride
71
,
That can therein
tax any private party
72
?
Doth it not flow as hugely as the sea,
Till that the
weary very means do ebb
74
?
What woman in the city do I name,
When that I say the city woman bears
The
cost of princes
77
on unworthy shoulders?
Who can
come in
78
and say that I mean her,
When such a one as she, such is her neighbour?
Or what is he of basest
function
80
That says his
bravery
is
not on my cost
81
,
Thinking that I mean him, but therein
suits
82
His folly to the
mettle
83
of my speech?
There then, how then, what then? Let me see wherein
My tongue hath wronged him: if it
do him right
85
,
Then he hath wronged himself. If he be
free
86
,
Why then my taxing like a wild-goose flies,
Unclaimed of any man. But who comes here?
