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SHAKESPEARE'S 


COMEDY   OF 


As  You  Like  It 


EpiTED,  WITH   NOTES 

BY 

WILLIAM    J.    ROLFE,    Litt.D. 

FORMERLY  HEAD  MASTER   OF  THE  HIGH  SCHOOL 
CAMBRIDGE,   MASS. 


ILLUSTRATED 


NEW  YORK  •:•  CINCINNATI  •:•  CHICAGO 

AMERICAN    BOOK    COMPANY 


TTT:;^  so:>> 

Mo3 

^  1  t  S'  A       I 


Copyright,  1903,  by 
WILLIAM  J.   ROLFE. 


AS   YOU    LIKE   IT. 

w.  p.  I 


(, :"  ^  *'  o  •  ^ » 


PREFACE 


This  edition  of  As  You  Like  It  -Was  first  published  in 
1877.  As  now  revised  it  is  substantially  a  new  edition 
on  the  same  general  plan  as  the  revised  Merchant  of 
Venice  and  Julius  Ccesar  which  have  preceded  it. 

The  greater  part  of  the  notes  on  textual  variations 
have  been  either  omitted  or  abridged.  This  play,  with 
most  of  the  others  now  read  in  schools  and  colleges, 
is  now  among  the  twelve  plays  that  Dr.  Furness  has 
edited.  No  teacher  can  afford  to  do  without  his  ency- 
clopedic volumes,  in  which  all  the  readings  and  notes 
of  the  early  and  the  standard  modern  editions  are 
epitomized,  together  with  large  extracts  from  the  best 
commentators  and  much  admirable  criticism  by  Dr. 
Furness  himself.  His  edition  is,  in  fact,  a  condensed 
library  of  the  literature  relating  to  the  play,  giving  in 
compact  and  inexpensive  form  a  vast  amount  of  valuable 
matter,  much  of  which  would  otherwise  be  inaccessible 
to  the  great  majority  of  teachers  and  students. 

I  have  also  omitted  most  of  the  "Critical  Comments" 
from  the  introduction,  as  the  books  from  which  they 
were  taken  are  now  to  be  found  in  public  and  school 
libraries.  For  these  extracts  I  have  substituted  familiar 
comments  of  my  own,  and  have  added  more  of  the 
same  kind  in  the  Appendix.  A  concise  account  of 
Shakespeare's  metre  has  also  been  inserted  as  an  intro- 
duction to  the  Notes. 


6  Preface 

Minor  changes  have  been  made  throughout  the  Notes. 
Some  have  been  abridged,  some  have  been  expanded, 
and  new  ones  have  been  added,  including  a  considerable 
number  in  place  of  those  referring  to  my  editions  of 
other  plays.  The  book  is  now  absolutely  complete  in 
itself. 

I  believe  that  teachers  will  prefer  the  new  edition  to 
the  old  one ;  but  both  can  be  used,  without  serious 
inconvenience,  in  the  same  class  or  club. 


CONTENTS 

PAGE 

Introduction  to  As  You  Like  It     .....  9 

The  History  of  the  Play 9 

The  Sources  of  the  Plot il 

General  Comments  on  the  Play        .         .         .         .         -  ii 

As  You  Like  It ,        ...  23 

Act  I 25 

Act  II 49 

Act  III 72 

Act  IV loi 

Act  V 117 

Notes 139 

Appendix .  252 

Comments  on  Some  of  the  Characters      ....  252 

The  "  Moral  "  of  the  Play 266 

Blue  Eyes  and  Other  in  Shakespeare       ....  268 

The  Time-Analysis  of  the  Play         .....  274 

List  of  Characters  in  the  Play           .....  276 

Index  of  Words  and  Phrases  Explained        .        .        .  279 

7 


Oliver  (Act  IV.  Scene  3) 


The  Forest  of  Arden 


INTRODUCTION    TO    AS   YOU    LIKE    IT 


The  History  of  the  Play 


As  You  Like  It  was  first  printed,  so  far  as  we  know,  in 
the  folio  of  1623.  The  earliest  notice  of  it  by  name  is 
found  in  the  Registers  of  the  Stationers'  Company,  on  a 
leaf  which  does  not  belong  to  the  regular  records,  but 
contains  miscellaneous  entries,  notes,  etc.  Between  two 
of  these,  the  one  dated  in  May,  1600,  and  the  other  in 
June,  1603,  occurs  the  following  memorandum  :  ^  — 

1  We  print  this  as  Wright  gives  it.  In  Halliwell-Phillipps's  folio  ed. 
it  appears  thus  :  — 

9 


lo  As  You  Like  It 

4.  August! 
As  you  like  yt  /  a  booke 
Henry  the  ffift  /  a  booke 
Euery  man  in  his  humour  /  a  booke 
The  commedie  of  muche  A  doo  about  nothing 

a  booke  / 


►  to  be  staied. 


All  these  "  books  "  are  stated  to  be  "  my  lord  chamber- 
lens  menns  plaies,"  which  confirms  the  opinion  that  the 
entry  refers  to  the  year  1600.  Henry  V,  and  Much  Ado 
About  Nothing  were  duly  Ucensed  (the  former  on  the 
14th  and  the  latter  on  the  23d  of  August)  and  published 
that  year ;  and  it  is  not  Hkely  that  the  plays  would  have 
been  "  staied  "  after  the  pubhcation  of  two  of  them.  The 
prohibition  was  probably  removed  soon  after  it  was  re- 
corded ;  and  the  clerk  may  not  have  considered  it  worth 
the  formahty  of  a  note  in  the  body  of  the  register. 

On  the  other  hand,  As  Yott  Like  It  is  not  mentioned 
by  Meres  in  his  enumeration  of  Shakespeare's  plays 
in  Palladis  Taniia,  which  was  pubHshed  in  Septem- 
ber, 1598;  and  it  contains  a  quotation  (iii.  5.  80)  from 
Marlowe's  Hero  and  Leander,  the  earliest  known  edition 

4  Augusti. 
As  you  like  yt,  a  book.     Henry  the  ffift,  a  book.  ^ 
Every  man  in  his  humor,  a  book.     The  Commedie  of  j-To  be  staied. 
Much  Adoo  about  nothinge,  a  book.  J 

Collier  gives  it  twice  (in  the  introductions  to  Muck  Ado  and  A.  Y.  L.) , 
but  the  versions  do  not  agree  with  each  other  or  with  either  of  the  above. 
The  matter  is  of  little  importance,  and  we  refer  to  it  only  as  illustrating 
one  of  the  minor  trials  of  an  editor  who  cannot  refer  to  original  docu- 
ments, but  has  to  depend  on  copies  made  by  others. 


Introduction  ii 

of  which  appeared  in  the  same  year.  It  may  therefore 
be  reasonably  concluded,  as  nearly  all  the  commentators 
agree,  that  As  You  Like  It  was  written  between  Septem- 
ber, 1598,  and  August,  1600;  probably  in  the  year  1599. 

The  Sources  of  the  Plot 

Shakespeare  was  chiefly  indebted  for  the  story  of  the| 
play  to  a  novel  by  Thomas  Lodge,  published  in  159a 
under  the  title  of  "  Rosalynde,  Euphues  Golden  Legacie,] 
found  after  his  death  in  his  Cell  at  Silexedra,  bequeathed! 
to  Philautus  sonnes  noursed  up  with  their  father  in  Eng- 
land, Fetcht  from  the  Canaries  by  T.  L.,  gent..  Imprinted 
by  T.  Orwin  for  T.  G.  and  John  Busbie,  1590."  This 
book  was  reprinted  in  1592,  and  eight  editions  are  known 
to  have  appeared  before  1643.  How  closely  the  poet 
followed  the  novel  may  be  seen  by  the  extracts  from  the 
latter  printed  in  the  Notes  below. 

Lodge  took  some  of  the  main  incidents  of  his  novel 
from  The  Cokes  Tale  of  Gainelyn,  which  is  found  in  a 
few  of  the  later  manuscripts  of  the  Canterbury  Tales  of 
Chaucer,  but  which  the  best  editors  of  that  poet  believe 
to  be  the  production  of  another  writer. 

General  Comments  on  the  Play 

"The  sweetest  and  happiest  of  Shakespeare's  come- 
dies," as  a  genial  and  appreciative  critic  calls  it  !  It  is 
one  of  that  group  of  plays  written  at  about  the  same  time 


12  As  You  Like  It 

—  probably  in  immediate  succession,  though  we  cannot 
say  in  what  order  —  which  another  critic  terms  ^^  the 
three  sunny  or  sweet-time  comedies,"  the  others  being 
Much  Ado  and  Twelfth  Night.  For  myself,  I  hke  to 
think  of  it  as  the  first  of  the  three,  written  when  the 
author  had  just  completed  the  series  of  English  histori- 
cal plays  (not  counting  Henry  VIII.,  which  came  ten  or 
more  years  later),  and  perhaps  as  a  rest  for  his  imagina- 
tion,—  the  recreation  that  is  gained  by  taking  up  a 
wholly  diiferent  kind  of  Hterary  work.  The  poet  escaped 
for  a  season  from  camps  and  courts,  and  took  a  delight- 
ful vacation  in  the  Forest  of  Arden.  History  was  for  the 
time  forgotten,  and  free  scope  was  given  to  imagination 
amid  the  scenes  of  a  purely  ideal  life,  —  an  Arcadia  where 
they  "  fleet  the  time  carelessly,  as  they  "did  in  the  golden 
world."  The  result  is  a  pastoral  drama  in  which  we  have 
almost  unbroken  sunshine,  no  more  of  shadow  being  in- 
troduced than  serves  to  give  variety  to  the  scene.  It  is 
not  the  shadow  that  forebodes  the  coming  of  night  or  of 
tempest,  but  rather  hke  that  of  the  passing  summer  cloud, 
or  like  that  of  the  green  canopy  of  a  pleasant  wood,  fall- 
ing, flecked  with  sunlight  sifted  through  the  leaves,  upon 
the  velvet  sward  below.  No  one  suffers  seriously  or  for 
any  great  length  of  time.  The  banished  Duke  is  only 
the  happier  for  his  exile,  and  exults  in  his  freedom  from 
the  artificial  restraints  of  the  court ;  and  in  the  end  he 
is  restored  to  his  rank  and  position.  His  banishment 
has  proved  only  a  summer  vacation,  a  rural  "  outing," 
and  we  cannot  doubt  that  he  enjoyed  his  dukedom  all 


Introduction  13 

the  more  for  his  brief  exemption  from  its  formalities  and 
responsibihties.  In  like  manner  Rosalind,  Celia,  and  the 
rest,  who  are  made  temporarily  uncomfortable  by  the 
banishment  of  the  Duke  and  other  causes,  soon  forget 
their  troubles  in  the  forest,  and  are  all  happy  at  last. 

Some  careful  critic  has  found  fault  with  Rosalind  be- 
cause she  goes  to  seek  her  father  in  the  forest,  and  then 
apparently  forgets  all  about  him  after  she  gets  there. 
But  this  is  only  another  illustration  of  the  careless,  free- 
and-easy  character  of  the  play.  Nobody  could  be  long 
anxious  in  that  Forest  of  Arden.  No  matter  what  cares 
and  troubles  one  brought  thither,  these  soon  vanished 
and  were  forgotten  in  the  enchanted  atmosphere.  Things 
might  not  be  entirely  to  one's  mind  at  first,  but  one  felt 
that  they  must  soon  become  "  as  you  like  it." 

And  this  reminds  me  of  the  dispute  as  to  the  origin 
and  significance  of  the  title  of  the  play.  It  may  have 
been  suggested,  as  some  have  supposed,  by  the  preface 
to  Lodge's  novel  of  Rosalynde,  to  which  the  poet  was 
indebted  for  his  plot.  Lodge  says  to  his  readers  con- 
cerning the  novel,  ''  If  you  like  it,  so,"  —  that  is,  "so  be 
it,"  or  "  well  and  good."  The  German  critic  Tieck  fan- 
cied that  the  title  was  meant  as  a  reply  to  Ben  Jonson's 
criticisms  on  the  loose  and  irregular  style  of  Shakespeare's 
comedy.  Ben  was  a  scholar,  and  believed  in  the  classi- 
cal rules  for  dramatic  composition.  The  free-and-easy 
methods  of  his  brother  playwright  were  rank  heterodoxy 
in  his  eyes,  and  he  could  not  help  sometimes  expressing 
his  righteous  horror  at  them.    In  the  preface  to  Cynthia's 


14  As  You   Like  It 

Revels  he  had  said  of  his  own  play,  "  'T  is  good,  and  if 
you  like  it  you  may  ;  "  and  Tieck  beheved  that  this  sug- 
gested to  Shakespeare  the  title  for  As  You  Like  It ;  as  if 
he  had  said,  "  Well,  here  is  another  of  my  careless  come- 
dies :  take  it  as  yoiL  like  itJ'^  But  it  does  not  seem  to  me 
at  all  probable  that  Shakespeare  would  select  the  name 
for  a  play  solely  or  mainly  to  indulge  in  a  little  hit  at 
another  author  —  and  a  hit  that  would  not  be  readily  un- 
derstood without  an  explanation. 

Whatever  may  have  suggested  the  title,  —  and,  as  I 
have  said,  it  may  have  been  Lodge's  preface,  —  I  have 
no  doubt  that  it  was  adopted  as  fitly  expressing  the  tone 
and  temper  of  the  play.  This  is  the  view  of  another 
German  critic,  Ulrici,  who,  in  summing  up  his  argument, 
says  :  "  In  fact  all  [the  characters]  do  exactly  what  and 
as  they  please.  .  .  .  Each  looks  upon  and  shapes  life  as 
it  pleases  him  or  her.  ...  It  is  the  poetic  reflex  of  a 
life  as  you  like  it,  light  and  smooth  in  its  flow,  unencum- 
bered by  serious  tasks,  free  from  the  fetters  of  definite 
objects  and  from  intentions  difficult  to  execute ;  an 
amusing  play  of  caprice,  of  imagination,  and  of  waver- 
ing sensations  and  feelings." 

Charles  Lamb  called  Lovers  Labour's  Lost  "  the  com- 
edy of  leisure  "  ;  but,  as  Verplanck  remarks,  "  he  might 
have  given  the  title  in  a  higher  sense  to  As  Yoti  Like 
It,  where  the  pervading  feeling  is  that  of  a  refined 
and  tasteful,  yet  simple  and  unaffected,  throwing-off  of 
the  stiff  Mendings'  of  artificial  society."  For  myself,  I 
would  call  it  the  summer  vacation  comedy.     As  I  have 


Introduction 


17 


Professor  Barrett  Wendell,  that  it  is  "childish  and 
absurd";  and  yet,  as  he  adds,  "it  has  been  for  three 
hundred  years  the  groundwork  of  perhaps  the  most  con- 
stantly dehghtful  and  popular  comedy  in  the  English 
language."  This  is  partly  due  to  the  subtle  influence 
of  the  "charmed  air"  of  that  Forest  of  Arden,  in  which 
we  forget  to  be  critical.  We  can  sympathize  with  the 
poet  Campbell,  who,  when  he  first  detected  some  of  the 
incongruities  in  this  play,  after  having  been  blind  to  them 
for  many  years,  shut  his  eyes  to  the  faults  because  of  his 
love  for  the  comedy  —  and  love,  as*  he  said,  is  "  wilfully 
blind."  "Away  with  your  best-proved  improbabilities 
when  the  heart  has  been  touched  and  the  fancy  fasci- 
nated ! "  But  it  was  not  the  scene  and  the  atmosphere 
alone  that  made  him  —  that  make  us  —  love  the  play, 
but  the  fact  that  the  leading  characters  are  not  mere 
puppets,  as  we  might  expect  them  to  be  in  so  crude  a 
story,  but  living  men  and  women.  We  cannot  help  lov- 
ing them,  and  following  their  experiences  with  the  keen- 
est interest  and  sympathy. 

Shakespeare's  characters,  indeed,  become  so  real  to 
us  that  we  keep  up  our  interest  in  them  after  the  curtain 
has  fallen  upon  their  fortunes.  We  speculate  concern- 
ing their  subsequent  behaviour  and  welfare,  and  dispute 
about  their  probable  fate.  We  even  enjoy  going  back 
of  the  beginning  of  the  drama,  as  Mary  Cowden-Clarke 
has  done  in  her  Girlhood  of  Shakespeare'' s  Heroines,  and 
Lady  Martin  in  some  of  her  dehghtful  studies  of  the 
characters  she  had  personated.     The  questions  suggested 

AS   YOU    LIKE   IT  —  2 


1 8  As  You   Like  It 

by  the  unwritten  history  of  these  shadowy  folk,  these 
phantoms  of  a  poet's  brain,  whom  we  have  seen  for  an 
hour  or  two  on  the  stage,  have  a  perennial  fascination. 
We  can  never  settle  them,  but  we  never  tire  of  pondering 
and  discussing  them. 

The  metre  of  As  You  Like  It  is  that  of  Shakespeare's 
best  period  in  that  respect.  In  his  earliest  plays  the 
verse,  though  often  exquisitely  modulated,  is  sometimes 
laboured  and  formal.  He  had  not  then  mastered  the 
art  of  concealing  the  art.  In  his  last  plays,  on  the  other 
hand,  he  seems  to  f*eel  a  certain  contempt  for  the  rules 
of  versification,  and  refuses  to  be  restrained  by  them. 
There  are  long  passages  in  The  Tempest  and  The  Wintei^s 
Tale  which,  if  we  heard  them  read  without  knowing  their 
source,  we  might  take  to  be  plain  prose.  At  the  same 
time  it  must  be  admitted  that  some  of  the  poet's  finest  ver- 
sification is  to  be  found  here  and  there  in  these  late  plays. 

But  in  As  You  Like  It,  as  in  other  plays  of  the  same 
period,  —  about  the  middle  of  the  poet's  career  as  a 
writer,  —  we  have  the  utmost  perfection  of  blank  verse ; 
at  once  finished  and  flowing,  artistically  musical,  yet 
seeming  to  "  sing  itself,"  —  the  art  of  the  accomplished 
minstrel,  while  it  impresses  us  as  the  artlessness  of  the 
lark  or  the  nightingale. 

This  play  also  contains  what,  to  my  thinking,  is  the 
best  example  of  musical  variation  in  repeating  the  same 
thought  or  sentiment  to  be  found  anywhere  in  Shake- 
speare. It  is  where  (ii.  7)  Orlando,  in  his  address  to 
the  Duke,  says  :  — 


Introduction  i^ 

"  If  ever  you  have  look'd  on  better  days, 
If  ever  been  where  bells  have  knoll'd  to  church, 
If  ever  sat  at  any  good  man's  feast, 
If  ever  from  your  eyelids  wip'd  a  tear, 
And  know  what  't  is  to  pity  and  be  pitied,"  etc. 

It  would  seem  that  this  could  hardly  be  altered  with- 
out marring  it ;  but,  faultless  as  it  is,  Shakespeare  shows 
that  he  can  repeat  it  "'  with  a  difference,"  yet  with  no 
diminution  of  its  beauty  or  its  music.  The  Duke  re- 
plies :  — ■ 

"  True  is  it  that  we  have  seen  better  days, 
And  have  with  holy  bell  been  knoll'd  to  church, 
And  sat  at  good  men's  feasts,  and  wip'd  our  eyes 
Of  drops  that  sacred  pity  hath  engender'd,"  etc. 

Every  statement  is  varied,  while  the  leading  words  are 
retained ;  and  the  variation  is  like  that  of  some  exquisite 
theme  in  music,  repeated,  yet  not  the  same,  but  as  sweet 
as  before.  One  finds  scattered  examples  of  this  fine 
modulation  of  melodious  verse  in  the  plays  and  poems, 
but  no  one  that  equals  this. 

This  play  is  also  a  good  illustration  of  Shakespeare's  art 
in  the  management  of  dramatic  time.  Only  two  of  his 
plays,  The  Comedy  of  Errors  and  The  Tempest,  observe 
the  "unities  of  time  and  place,"  which  require  that  the 
time  of  the  action  represented  shall  not  exceed  a  single 
day,  and  that  the  place  shall  be  limited  either  to  a  single 
locality,  or  to  localities  so  near  that  the  persons  con- 
cerned can  pass  from  one  to  another  within  the  day.  In 
most  of  Shakespeare's  plays  the  time  of  the  action  covers 


20  As  You   Like  It 

several  days,  months,  or  years ;  and  the  localities  are 
often  widely  separated  —  England  and  France,  Bohemia 
and  Sicily,  etc. 

But  though  Shakespeare  thus  ignores  the  classical  law 
concerning  time,  he  follows  what  may  be  called  an  artis- 
tic law  of  his  own  in  dealing  with  time,  which  was  not 
recognized  by  any  of  the  critics  until  about  fifty  years 
ago ;  and  then,  as  often  happens  with  important  discov- 
eries, two  men  detected  it  independently  at  the  same 
time.  In  November,  1849,  Professor  John  Wilson  ("  Chris- 
topher North  ")  announced  this  law  in  Blackwood' s  Maga- 
zine as  "  an  astounding  discovery,"  illustrating  it  minutely 
by  an  analysis  of  Macbeth  and  Othello;  and  the  Rev. 
N.  J.  Halpin,  during  the  same  month,  pubHshed  an 
essay  on  Dramatic  Unities  in  Shakespeare,  illustrating 
the  same  law  by  an  analysis  of  The  Merchant  of  Venice. 
There  could  be  no  question  that  the  two  men  had  been 
working  independently,  and  had  reached  identical  re- 
sults. 

The  law  may  be  briefly  stated  thus  :  Shakespeare  uses 
two  kinds  of  time  in  the  plays  :  one  fast,  corresponding 
to  the  brief  time  required  for  the  action  on  the  stage  ;  the 
other  slow,  corresponding  to  the  longer  time  necessary 
for  the  actual  succession  of  events  represented.  The  law 
has  been  aptly  and  more  concisely  designated  as  "Shake- 
speare's tivo  clocks, '^  one  of  which  goes  fast  while  the  other 
goes  slow. 

Apparently  this  manner  of  dealing  with  dramatic  time 
was  original  with  Shakespeare ;    at  least,  it  was  used  by 


Introduction  21 

* 

him  in  all  his  plays  (except  the  two  I  have  mentioned 
in  which  the  unity  of  time  is  observed),  and  in  all  the 
details  of  their  action,  while  it  seldom,  if  ever,  appears  in 
the  works  of  other  dramatists. 

In  As  You  Like  It  the  two  kinds  of  time  are  very  easily 
recognized,  and  it  is  for  this  reason  that  I  refer  to  the  sub- 
ject in  connection  with  this  play. 

When  the  banishment  of  the  old  Duke  is  first  mentioned, 
we  infer  that  it  occurred  very  recently.  OHver,  though  a 
gentleman  living  near  the  court,  has  not  heard  of  it  until 
Charles  the  wrestler  tells  him  about  it,  and  Charles  him- 
self seems  to  have  only  an  imperfect  knowledge  of  the 
main  facts.  "  Where  will  the  old  Duke  live  ?  "  Oliver  asks. 
"  They  say,^^  replies  Charles,  "  he  is  already  in  the  Forest 
of  Arden,"  etc.  There  are  reasons  for  this  "  fast  time  " 
here,  which  a  careful  student  or  reader  will  have  no  diffi- 
culty in  discovering. 

"  Slow  time  "  appears  very  soon  afterward.  In  Scene 
3,  when  the  new  Duke  is  banishing  Rosalind,  he  says,  in 
reply  to  the  protest  of  Celia,  that  it  was  for  her  sake  that 
the  daughter  was  not  exiled  with  the  father.  CeHa 
replies :  — 

"  I  did  not  then  entreat  to  have  her  stay  ; 
It  was  your  pleasure  and  your  own  remorse. 
I  was  too-young  that  time  to  value  her, 
But  now  I  know  her.     If  she  be  a  traitor, 
Why  so  am  I;   we  still  have  slept  together, 
Rose  at  an  instant,  learn'd,  play'd,  eat  together, 
And  wheresoe'er  we  went,  like  Juno's  swans, 
Still  we  went  coupled  and  inseparable." 


22  As  You  Like  It 

This  certainly  throws  the  banishment  of  the  old  Duke 
several  years  back  into  the  past.  Note  also  his  own  speech 
at  the  opening  of  the  second  act :  — 

"Now,  my  co-mates  and  brothers  in  exile, 
Hath  not  old  custom  made  this  life  more  sweet 
Than  that  of  painted  pomp  ?     Are  not  these  woods 
More  free  from  peril  than  the  envious  court? 
Here  feel  we  not  the  penalty  of  Adam. 
The  seasons'  difference,"  etc. 

Clearly  he  and  his  friends  have  been  in  the  forest  long 
enough  to  get  used  to  life  there,  and  to  experience  ''  the 
seasons'  difference  "  —  the  winter  as  well  as  the  summer. 
I  need  not  continue  this  analysis  further  in  the  play. 
The  reader  will  find  it  a  profitable  exercise  to  follow  it 
out  for  himself. 

[Professor  Wilson's  paper  may  be  found  in  Blackwood  for 
November,  1849,  with  a  continuation  in  the  number  for  April,  1850. 
It  is  reprinted  in  the  Transactions  of  the  Neiv  Shakspere  Society, 
1875-76,  pp.  351-387;  where  it  is  followed  (pp.  388-412)  by  a  re- 
print of  Rev.  Mr.  Halpin's  pamphlet.] 


AS   YOU    LIKE   IT 


23 


DRAMATIS  PERSONS,  ' 

Duke,  living  in  banishment. 

Frederick,  his  brother,  and  usurper  of 
his  dominions. 

Amiens,  )  lords  attending  on  the  banished 

Jaques,    i      duke. 

Le  Beau,  a  courtier  attending  upon  Fred- 
erick. 

Charles,  wrestler  to  Frederick. 

Oliver, 

t^QUES,      J- sons  of  Sir  Rowland  de  Boys. 
v/Orlando, 

Adam,     \ 

Dennis, 
i/ Touchstone,  a  clown. 

Sir  Oliver  Martext,  a  vicar. 

Silvius,  i  shepherds. 

William,  a  country  fellow,  in  love  with 

Audrey. 
A  person  representing  Hymen. 
Rosalind,  daughter  to  the  banished  duke. 
Celia,  daughter  to  Frederick. 
Phebe,  a  shepherdess. 
Audrey,  a  country  wench. 

Lords,  pages,  and  attendants,  etc. 

Scene:  Oliver's  house;  Duke  Fred- 
erick's court;  and  the  Forest  of 
Arden. 


servants  to  Oliver. 


24 


:im. 


"  To  Liberty,  and  not  to  Banishment  " 


ACT   I 


Scene  I.     Orchard  of  Oliver'' s  House 

Enter  Orlando  and  Adam 

Orlando.  As  I  remember,  Adam,  it  was  upon  this 
fashion  bequeathed  me  by  will  but  poor  a  thousand 
crowns,  and,  as  thou  sayest,  charged  my  brother,  on 
his  blessing,  to  breed  me  well ;  and  there  begins  my 
sadness.  My  brother  Jaques  he  keeps  at  school,  and 
report  speaks  goldenly  of  his  profit.  For  my  part,  he 
keeps  me  rustically  at  home,  or,  to  speak  more  prop- 
erly,   stays  me  here  at  home    unkept ;   for  call  you 

25 


26  As  You   Like  It  [Act  i 

that  keeping  for  a  gentleman  of  my  birth,  that  differs 
not  from  the  stalling  of  an  ox?  His  horses  are  bred  10 
better,  for,  besides  that  they  are  fair  with  their  feeding, 
they  are  taught  their  manage,  and  to  that  end  riders 
dearly  hired ;  but  I,  his  brother,  gain  nothing  under 
him  but  growth,  for  the  which  his  animals  on  his  dung- 
hills are  as  much  bound  to  him  as  I.  Besides  this 
nothing  that  he  so  plentifully  gives  me,  the  something 
that  nature  gave  me  his  countenance  seems  to  take 
from  me  ;  he  lets  me  feed  with  his  hinds,  bars  me  the 
place  of  a  brother,  and,  as  much  as  in  him  lies,  mines 
my  gentility  with  my  education.  This  is  it,  Adam,  20 
that  grieves  me ;  and  the  spirit  of  my  father,  which  I 
think  is  within  me,  begins  to  mutiny  against  this  servi- 
tude. I  will  no  longer  endure  it,  though  yet  I  know 
no  wise  remedy  how  to  avoid  it. 

Adam.  Yonder  comes  my  master,  your  brother. 

Orlando.  Go  apart,  Adam,  and  thou  shalt  hear  how 

he  will  shake  me  up. 

Enter  Oliver 

Oliver.    Now,  sir  !  what  make  you  here? 

Orlando.  Nothing;  I  am  not  taught  to  make  any 
thing.  30 

Oliver.   What  mar  you  then,  sir  ? 

Orlando.  Marry,  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 
naught  awhile. 


Scene  i]  As   You    Like   It  27 

Orlando.  Shall  I  keep  your  hogs  and  eat  husks 
with  them  ?  What  prodigal  portion  have  I  spent,  that 
I  should  come  to  such  penury  ? 

Oliver.    Know  you  where  you  are,  sir?  40 

Orlando.    O,  sir,  very  well ;  here  in  your  orchard. 

Oliver.    Know  you  before  whom,  sir? 

Orlando.  Ay,  better  than  him  I  am  before  knows 
me.  I  know  you  are  my  eldest  brother;  and,  in  the 
gentle  condition  of  blood,  you  should  so  know  me!. 
The  courtesy  of  nations  allows  you  my  better,  in  that 
you  are  the  first-born;  but  the  same  tradition  takes 
not  away  my  blood,  were  there  twenty  brothers  be- 
twixt us.  I  have  as  much  of  my  father  in  me  as  you  ; 
albeit,  I  confess,  your  coming  before  me  is  nearer  to  50 
his  reverence. 

Oliver.   What,  boy  ! 

Orlando.    Come,  come,  elder  brother,  you  are  too 
young  in  this. 

Oliver.    Wilt  thou  lay  hands  on  me,  villain  ? 

Orlando.  I  am  no  villain ;  I  am  the  youngest  son 
of  Sir  Rowland  de  Boys  :  he  was  my  father,  and  he  is 
thrice  a  villain  that  says  such  a  father  begot  villains. 
Wert  thou  not  my  brother,  I  would  not  take  this  hand 
from  thy  throat  till  this  other  had  pulled  out  thy  60 
tongue  for  saying  so ;  thou  hast  railed  on  thyself. 

Adam.    Sweet  masters,  be  patient ;  for  your  father's 
remembrance,  be  at  accord. 

Oliver.    Let  me  go,  I  say. 

Orlando.    I  will  not,  till  I  please.;   you  shall  hear 


28  As  You   Like  It  [Act  i 

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 
quahties.  The  spirit  of  my  father  grows  strong  in  me, 
and  I  will  no  longer  endure  it.  Therefore  allow  me  70 
such  exercises  as  may  become  a  gentleman,  or  give 
me  the  poor  allottery  my  father  left  me  by  testament ; 
with  that  I  will  go  buy  my  fortunes. 

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 
will.     I  pray  you,  leave  me. 

Orlando.  I  will  no  further  offend  you  than  becomes 
me  for  my  good. 

Oliver'.    Get  you  with  him,  you  old  dog.  80 

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. 

\_Exetmt  Orlando  aiid  Adam. 

Oliver.  Is  it  even  so  ?  begin  you  to  grow  upon  me  ? 
I  will  physic  your  rankness,  and  yet  give  no  thousand 
crowns  neither.  —  Holla,  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  90 
importunes  access  to  you. 


Scene  I]  As  You  Like  It  29 

Oliver.    Call  him  in.     \_Exif  Dennis.']     'T  will  be  a 
good  way ;  and  to-morrow  the  wrestling  is. 

Enter  Charles 

Charles.    Good  morrow  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 
loving  lords  have  put  themselves  into  voluntary  exile  100 
with  him,  whose  lands  and  revenues  enrich  the  new 
duke ;  and  therefore  he  gives  them  good  leave  to 
wander. 

Oliver.    Can  you  tell  if  Rosalind,  the  duke's  daugh- 
ter, be  banished  with  her  father? 

Charles.  O,  no ;  for  the  duke's  daughter,  her 
cousin,  so  loves  her,  being  ever  from  their  cradles  bred 
together,  that  she  would  have  followed  her  exile,  or 
have  died  to  stay  behind  her.  She  is  at  the  court  and 
no  less  beloved  of  her  uncle  than  his  own  daughter;  no 
and  never  two  ladies  loved  as  they  do. 

Oliver.    Where  will  the  old  dujke  live? 

Charles.   They  say  he  is  already   in  the   forest  of 
Arden,  and  a  many  merry  men  with  him  ;  and  there  they 
live  Hke  the  old  Robin  Hood  of  England.     They^ay\ 
many  young  gentlemen  flock  to  him  every  day,  and  i      -^ 
fleet  the  time  carelessly,  as  they  did   in  the  golden  j 
world. 


30  As  You   Like  It  [Act  i 

Oliver.    What,    you   wrestle  to-morrow   before    the 
new  duke?  120 

Charles.  Marry,  do  I,  sir ;  and  I  came  to  acquaint 
you  with  a  matter.  I  am  given,  sir,  secretly  to  under- 
stand that  your  younger  brother  Orlando  hath  a  dis- 
position to  come  in  disguised  against  me  to  try  a  fall. 
To-morrow,  sir,  I  wrestle  for  my  credit ;  and  he  that 
escapes  me  without  some  broken  limb  shall  acquit  him 
well.  Your  brother  is  but  young  and  tender ;  and, 
for  your  love,  I  would  be  loath  to  foil  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  withal,  130 
that  either  you  might  stay  him  from  his  intendment 
or  brook  such  disgrace  well  as  he  shall  run  into,  in 
that  it  is  a  thing  of  his  own  search  and  altogether 
against  my  will. 

Oliver.  Charles,  I  thank  thee  for  thy  love  to  me, 
which  thou  shalt  find  I  will  most  kindly  requite.  I 
had  myself  notice  of  my  brother's  purpose  herein,  and 
have  by  underhand  means  laboured  to  dissuade  him 
from  it,  but  he  is  resolute.  I  '11  tell  thee,  Charles,  it  is 
the  stubbornest  young  fellow  of  France,  full  of  ambi- 140 
tion,  an  envious  emulator  of  every  man's  good  parts,  a 
secret  and  villanous  contriver  against  me  his  natural 
brother ;  therefore  use  thy  discretion.  I  had  as  lief 
thou  didst  break  his  neck  as  his  finger.  And  thou 
wert  best  look  to  't,  for  if  thou  dost  him  any  slight  dis- 
grace, or  if  he  do  not  mightily  grace  himself  on  thee, 
he  will  practise  against  thee  by  poison,  entrap  thee  by 


Scene  II]  As  You   Like   It  31 

some  treacherous  device,  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,  150 
there  is  not  one  so  young  and  so  villanous  this  day 
living.  I  speak  but  brotherly  of  him ;  but  should  I 
anatomize  him  to  thee  as  he  is,  I  must  blush  and 
weep,  and  thou  must  look  pale  and  wonder. 

Chaj'les.  I  am  heartily  glad  I  came  hither  to  you. 
If  he  come  to-morrow,  I  '11  give  him  his  payment.  If 
ever  he  go  alone  again,  I  '11  never  wrestle  for  prize 
more  ;  and  so,  God  keep  your  worship  ! 

Oliver.  Farewell,  good  Charles.  —  \_Exit  Charles. 
Now  will  I  stir  this  gamester.  I  hope  I  shall  see  an  160 
end  of  him,  for  my  soul,  yet  I  know  not  why,  hates 
nothing  more  than  he.  Yet  he  's  gentle,  never 
schooled  and  yet  learned,  full  of  noble  device,  of  all 
sorts  enchantingly  beloved,  and  indeed  so  much  in 
the  heart  of  the  world,  and  especially  of  my  own  peo- 
ple, who  best  know  him,  that  I  am  altogether  misprised. 
But  it  shall  not  be  so  long  ;  this  wrestler  shall  clear  all. 
Nothing  remains  but  that  I  kindle  the  boy  thither, 
which  now  I  '11  go  about.  \^Exit. 


Scene  II.     Lawn  before  the  Duke^s  Palace 

Enter  Celia  and  Rosalind 

Celia.    I    pray  thee,    Rosalind,   sweet    my  coz,    be 
merry. 


32  As  You  Like  It  [Act  i 

Rosalind.    Dear  Celia,  I  show  more  mirth  than   I    . 
am  mistress  of;  and  would  you  yet  I  were  merrier? 
Unless  you  could  teach  me  to  forget  a  banished  father, 
you  must  not  learn  me  how  to  remember  any  extraor- 
dinary 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,  so  lo 
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  tem- 
pered as  mine  is  to  thee. 

Rosalind.   Well,  I  will  forget   the  condition  of  my 
estate,  to  rejoice  in  yours. 

Celia.  You  know  my  father  hath  no  child  but  I, 
nor  none  is  like  to  have  ;  and,  truly,  when  he  dies,  thou 
shalt  be  his  heir,  for  what  he  hath  taken  away  from  thy 
father  perforce,  I  will  render  thee  again  in  affection.  20 
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 
sports.     Let  me  see  ;  what  think  you  of  falling  in  love  ? 

Celia.    Marry,  I  prithee,  do,  to  make  sport  withal ; 
but  love  no  man  in  good  earnest,  nor  no  further  in 
sport  neither  than  with  safety  of  a  pure  blush  thou     • 
mayst  in  honour  come  off  again. 

Rosalind.   What  shall  be  our  sport,  then?  30 

Celia.   Let  us   sit   and   mock  the   good   housewife 


Scene  II]  As  You   Like  It  ^3 

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  woman 
doth  most  mistake  in  her  gifts  to  women. 

Celia.  'T  is  true  ;  for  those  that  she  makes  fair  she 
scarce  makes  honest,  and  those  that  she  makes  honest 
she  makes  very  ill-favouredly. 

Rosalind.    Nay,    now   thou    goest    from    Fortune's  40 
office   to    Nature's ;    Fortune   reigns    in   gifts  of  the 
world,  not  in  the  lineaments  of  Nature. 

Enter  Touchstone 

Celia.  No?  when  Nature  hath  made  a  fair  creature, 
may  she  not  by  Fortune  fall  into  the  fire?  Though 
Nature  hath  given  us  wit  to  flout  at  Fortune,  hath  not 
Fortune  sent  in  this  fool  to  cut  off"  the  argument  ? 

Rosalind.  Indeed,  there  is  Fortune  too  hard  for 
Nature,  when  Fortune  makes  Nature's  natural  the 
cutter-off"  of  Nature's  wit. 

Celia.  Peradventure  this  is  not  Fortune's  work  50 
neither,  but  Nature's,  who,  perceiving  our  natural  wits 
too  dull  to  reason  of  such  goddesses,  hath  sent  this 
natural  for  our  whetstone ;  for  always  the  dulness  of 
the  fool  is  the  whetstone  of  the  wits.  How  now,  wit  ! 
Whither  wander  you? 

Touchstone.  Mistress,  you  must  come  away  to  your 
father. 

Celia.   Were  you  made  the  messenger? 

AS   YOU    LIKE    IT  —  3 


34  As  You   Like  It  [Act  i 

Touchstone.  No,  by  mine  honour,  but  I  was  bid  to 
come  for  you.  60 

Rosalind.    Where  learned  you  that  oath,  fool? 

Touchstone.  Of  a  certain  knight  that  swore  by  his 
honour  they  were  good  pancakes,  and  swore  by  his 
honour  the  mustard  was  naught.  Now  I  '11  stand  to  it, 
the  pancakes  were  naught  and  the  mustard  was  good, 
and  yet  was  not  the  knight  forsworn. 

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  70 
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?  80 

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  '11  be  whipped 
for  taxation  one  of  these  days. 

Touchstone.  The  more  pity,  that  fools  may  not 
speak  wisely  what  wise  men  do  foolishly. 


Scene  II]  As  You  Like  It  35 

Celia.   By  my  troth,  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  90 
Monsieur  Le  Beau. 

Rosalind.   With  his  mouth  full  of  news. 

Celia.   Which  he  will  put   on  us,  as  pigeons  feed 
their  young. 

Rosalind.  Then  shall  we  be  news-crammed. 

Celia.   All   the   better ;    we    shall    be    the     more 
marketable.  — 

Enter  Le  Beau 

Bon  jour.  Monsieur  Le  Beau  ;  what  's  the  news  ? 

Le  Beaic.    Fair  princess,  you  have  lost  much  good 
sport.  100 

Celia.    Sport!  of  what  colour  ? 

Le  Beau.   What    colour,    madam?     how    shall    I 
answer  you? 

Rosalind.   As  wit  and  fortune  will. 

Touchstone.   Or  as  the  destinies  decree. 

Celia.   Well  said  ;  that  was  laid  on  with  a  trowel. 

Touchstone.    Nay,  if  I  keep  not  my  rank,  — 

Rosalind.   Thou  losest  thy  old  smell. 

Le  Beau.   You  amaze    me,  ladies ;    I  would   have 
told   you   of  good   wrestling,   which   you    have    lost  no 
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 


;^6  As  You  Like  It  [Act  i 

best  is  yet  to  do,  and  here,  where  you  are,  they  are 
coming  to  perform  it. 

Ce/ia.   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  tale.  120 

Le  Beau.  Three  proper  young  men,  of  excellent 
growth  and  presence,  — 

Rosalind.  With  bills  on  their  necks,  '  Be  it  known 
unto  all  men  by  these  presents.' 

Le  Beau.  The  eldest  of  the  three  wrestled  with 
Charles,  the  duke's  wrestler,  which  Charles  in  a  mo- 
ment threw  him  and  broke  three  of  his  ribs,  that  there 
is  little  hope  of  life  in  him ;  so  he  served  the  second, 
and  so  the  third.  Yonder  they  lie  ;  the  poor  old  man, 
their  father,  making  such  pitiful  dole  over  them  that  130 
all  the  beholders  take  his  part  with  weeping. 

Rosalind.    Alas  ! 

ToiLchstone.  But  what  is  the  sport,  monsieur,  that 
the  ladies  have  lost? 

Le  Beau.   Why,  this  that  I  speak  of. 

Touchstone.  Thus  men  may  grow  wiser  every  day  ! 
It  is  the  first  time  that  ever  I  heard  breaking  of  ribs 
was  sport  for  ladies. 

Celia.    Or  I,  I  promise  thee.  139 

Rosalind.  But  is  there  any  else  longs  to  see  this 
broken  music  in  his  sides?  is  there  yet  another  dotes 
upon  rib-breaking  ?  —  Shall  we  see  this  wrestling, 
cousin  ? 


Scene  II]  As  You   Like  It  37 

Le  Beau,  You  must,  if  you  stay  here ;  for  here  is 
the  place  appointed  for  the  wresthng,  and  they  are 
ready  to  perform  it. 

Celia.  Yonder,  sure,  they  are  coming ;  let  us  now 
stay  and  see  it. 

Floui'ish.    Enter  Duke  Frederick,  Lords,  Orlando, 
Charles,  aiid  Attendants 

Duke  Frederick.  Come  on ;  since  the  youth  will 
not  be  entreated,  his  own  peril  on  his  forwardness.  150 

Rosalind.    Is  yonder  the  man? 

Le  Beau.    Even  he,  madam. 

Celia.  Alas,  he  is  too  young  !  yet  he  looks  success- 
fully. 

Duke  Fredei'ick.  How  now,  daughter  and  cousin  ! 
are  you  crept  hither  to  see  the  wrestling? 

Rosalind.   Ay,  my  liege,  so  please  you  give  us  leave. 

Duke  Fi-ederick.    You  will  take  little  delight  in  it,  I 
can  tell  you,  there  is  such  odds  in  the  men.     In  pity 
of  the  challenger's  youth  I  would  fain  dissuade  him,  160 
but  he  will  not  be  entreated.     Speak  to  him,  ladies ; 
see  if  you  can  move  him. 

Celia.    Call  him  hither,  good  Monsieur  Le  Beau. 

Duke  Frederick.    Do  so  ;  I  '11  not  be  by. 

Le  Beau.  Monsieur  the  challenger,  the  princess  calls 
for  you. 

Orlando.    I  attend  them  with  all  respect  and  duty. 

Rosalind.  Young  man,  have  you  challenged  Charles 
the  wrestler? 


38  As  You  Like  It  [Act  i 

Orlando.    No,  fair  princess  ;  he  is  the  general  chal- 170 
lenger.     I  come  but  in,  as  others  do,  to  try  with  him 
the  strength  of  my  youth. 

Celia.  Young  gentleman,  your  spirits  are  too  bold 
for  your  years.  You  have  seen  cruel  proof  of  this  man's 
strength ;  if  you  saw  yourself  with  your  eyes  or  knew 
yourself  with  your  judgment,  the  fear  of  your  adventure 
would  counsel  you  to  a  more  equal  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  180 
therefore  be  misprised.     We  will  make  it  our  suit  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  any  thing.  But  let 
your  fair  eyes  and  gentle  wishes  go  with  me  to  my 
trial ;  wherein  if  I  be  foiled,  there  is  but  one  shamed 
that  was  never  gracious  ;  if  killed,  but  one  dead  that  is 
willing  to  be  so.  I  shall  do  my  friends  no  wrong,  for 
I  have  none  to  lament  me ;  the  world  no  injury,  for  in  190 
it  I  have  nothing ;  only  in  the  world  I  fill  up  a  place 
which  may  be  better  suppHed  when  I  have  made  it 
empty. 

Rosalind.  The  little  strength  that  I  have,  I  would  it 
were  with  you. 

Celia.   And  mine,  to  eke  out  hers. 

Rosalind.  Fare  you  well ;  pray  heaven  I  be  deceived 
in  you  ! 


Scene  iij  As  You  Like  It  39 

Celia.   Your  heart's  desires  be  with  you  !  199 

Charles.  Come,  where  is  this  young  gallant  that  is 
so  desirous  to  lie  with  his  mother  earth  ? 

Orlando.  Ready,  sir  ;  but  his  will  hath  in  it  a  more 
modest  working. 

Duke  Frederick.   You  shall  try  but  one  fall. 

Charles.  No,  I  warrant  your  grace,  you  shall  not 
entreat  him  to  a  second,  that  have  so  mightily  per- 
suaded him  from  a  first. 

Orlando.  YoU  mean  to  mock  me  after ;  you  should 
not  have  mocked  me  before.     But  come  your  ways.      209 

Rosalind.    Now  Hercules  be  thy  speed,  young  man  ! 

Celia.  I  would  I  were  invisible,  to  catch  the  strong 
fellow  by  the  leg.  \They  wrestle, 

Rosalind.   O  excellent  young  man  ! 

Celia.  If  I  had  a  thunderbolt  in  mine  eye,  I  can 
tell  who  should  down.        \_Shout.     Charles  is  thrown. 

Duke  Frederick.    No  more,  no  more. 

Orlando,  Yes,  I  beseech  your  grace  ;  I  am  not  yet 
well-breathed. 

Duke  Frederick.    How  dost  thou,  Charles  ? 

Le  Beau.    He  cannot  speak,  my  lord.  220 

Duke  Frederick.  Bear  him  away.  —  What  is  thy 
name,  young  man? 

Orlando.  Orlando,  my  liege  j  the  youngest  son  of 
Sir  Rowland  de  Boys. 

Duke  Frederick.    I  would  thou  hadst  been  son  to 
some  man  else. 
The  world  esteem'd  thy  father  honourable, 


40  As  You   Like  It  [Act  i 

But  I  did  find  him  still  mine  enemy. 

Thou  shouldst  have  better  pleas'd  me  with  this  deed, 

Hadst  thou  descended  from  another  house. 

But  fare  thee  well ;  thou  art  a  gallant  youth.  230 

I  would  thou  hadst  told  me  of  another  father. 

\_Exeunt  Duke  Frederick^  train,  and  Le  Beau, 

Celia.    Were  I  my  father,  coz,  would  I  do  this? 

Orlando.  I  am  more  proud  to  be  Sir  Rowland's  son, 
His  youngest  son,  and  would  not  change  that  calhng, 
To  be  adopted  heir  to  Frederick. 

Rosalind.    My  father  lov'd  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  unto  entreaties, 
Ere  he  should  thus  have  ventur'd. 

Celia.-  Gentle  cousin,        240 

Let  us  go  thank  him  and  encourage  him ; 
My  father's  rough  and  envious  disposition 
Sticks  me  at  heart.  —  Sir,  you  have  well  deserv'd  ; 
If  you  do  keep  your  promises  in  love 
But  justly  as  you  have  exceeded  all  promise, 
Your  mistress  shall  be  happy. 

Rosalind.  Gentleman, 

[  Giving  him  a  chain  from  her  neck. 
Wear  this  for  me,  one  out  of  suits  with  fortune, 
That  could  give  more  but  that  her  hand  lacks  means.  — 
Shall  we  go,  coz? 

Celia.  Ay.  —  Fare  you  well,  fair  gentleman.  249 

Orlando.   Can  I  not  say,  I  thank  you  ?    My  better  parts 


Scene  II]  As  You    Like   It  41 

Are  all  thrown  down,  and  that  which  here  stands  up 
Is  but  a  quintain,  a  mere  lifeless  block. 

Rosalind.    He  calls  us  back.     My  pride  fell  with  my 
fortunes ; 
I'll  ask  him  what  he  would.  —  Did  you  call,  sir?  — 
Sir,  you  have  wrestled  well  and  overthrown 
More  than  your  enemies. 

Celia.  Will  you  go,  coz? 

Rosalind,    Have  with  you.  —  Fare  you  well. 

\_Exeunt  Rosalind  and  Celia, 

Orlando.   What  passion  hangs  these  weights  upon  my 
tongue  ? 
I  cannot  speak  to  her,  yet  she  urg'd  conference. 
O  poor  Orlando,  thou  art  overthrown  !  260 

Or  Charles  or  something  weaker  masters  thee. 

Enter  Le  Beau 

Le  Beau.    Good  sir,  I  do  in  friendship  counsel  you 
To  leave  this  place.     Albeit  you  have  deserv'd 
High  commendation,  true  applause,  and  love. 
Yet  such  is  now  the  duke's  condition 
That  he  misconstrues  all  that  you  have  done. 
The  duke  is  humorous ;  what  he  is,  indeed, 
More  suits  you  to  conceive  than  I  to  speak  of. 

Orlaftdo.    I  thank  you,   sir;    and,  pray  you,  tell  me 
this  : 
Which  of  the  two  was  daughter  of  the  duke  270 

That  here  was  at  the  wrestling? 


42  As  You  Like  It  [Act  i 

Le  Beau,    Neither  his  daughter,  if  we  judge  by  man- 
ners ; 
But  yet  indeed  the  smaller  is  his  daughter. 
The  other  is  daughter  to  the  banish'd  duke, 
And  here  detain'd  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  gentle  niece, 
Grounded  upon  no  other  argument  280 

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  suddenly  break  forth.     Sir,  fare  you  well ; 
Hereafter,  in  a  better  world  than  this, 
I  shall  desire  more  love  and  knowledge  of  you. 

Orlando.    I    rest   much    bounden    to   you ;    fare   you 

well.  —  \_Exit  Le  Beau, 

Thus  must  I  from  the  smoke  into  the  smother ; 

From  tyrant  duke  unto  a  tyrant  brother.  —  289 

But  heavenly  Rosalind  !  \_Exit, 


Scene  HI.     A  Room  in  the  Palace 

Enter  Celia  and  Rosalind 

Celia,   Why,  cousin  !  why,  Rosalind  !     Cupid  have 
mercy  !  not  a  word? 

Rosalind.    Not  one  to  throw  at  a  dog. 


Scene  III]  As  You   Like  It  43 

Celia.  No,  thy  words  are  too  precious  to  be  cast 
away  upon  curs ;  throw  some  of  them  at  me.  Come, 
lame  me  with  reasons. 

Rosalind,  Then  there  were  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?  10 

Rosalind.  No,  some  of  it  is  for  my  child's  father. 
O,  how  full  of  briers  is  this  working-day  world  ! 

Celia.  They  are  but  burs,  cousin,  thrown  upon  thee 
in  holiday  foolery ;  if  we  walk  not  in  the  trodden 
paths,  our  very  petticoats  will  catch  them. 

Rosalind.  I  could  shake  them  off  my  coat ;  these 
burs  are  in  my  heart. 

Celia.    Hem  them  away. 

Rosalind.  I  would  try,  if  I  could  cry  hem  and  have 
him.  20 

Celia.   Come,  come,  wrestle  with  thy  affections. 

Rosalind.  O,  they  take  the  part  of  a  better  wrestler 
than  myself! 

Celia.  O,  a  good  wish  upon  you  !  you  will  try  in 
time,  in  despite  of  a  fall.  But,  turning  these  jests  out 
of  service,  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  lov'd  his  father 
dearly.  30 

Celia.  Doth  it  therefore  ensue  that  you  should  love 
his  son  dearly?     By  this  kind  of  chase,  I  should  hate 


44 


As  You  Like  It  [Act  i 


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  ?  doth  he  not  deserve  well  ? 

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. 

Enter  Duke  Frederick,  with  Lords. 

Duke  Frederick.    Mistress,  despatch   you  with   your 
safest  haste,  40 

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  intelligence 
Or  have  acquaintance  with  mine  own  desires. 
If  that  I  do  not  dream  or  be  not  frantic,  — 
As  I  do  trust  I  am  not,  —  then,  dear  uncle. 
Never  so  much  as  in  a  thought  unborn  50 

Did  I  offend  your  highness. 

Duke  Frederick.  Thus  do  all  traitors ; 

If  their  purgation  did  consist  in  words. 
They  are  as  innocent  as  grace  itself. 
Let  it  suffice  thee  that  I  trust  thee  not. 


Scene  III]  As  You  Like  It  45 

Rosalind.   Yet  your  mistrust  cannot  make  me  a  traitor  \ 
Tell  me  whereon  the  likelihood  depends. 

Duke  Frederick.  Thou  art  thy  father's  daughter ;  there  's 
enough. 

Rosalind,   So  was  I  when  your  highness  took  his  duke- 
dom ; 
So  was  I  when  your  highness  banish'd  him. 
Treason  is  not  inherited,  my  lord  ;  60 

Or,  if  we  did  derive  it  from  our  friends. 
What 's  that  to  me  ?  my  father  was  no  traitor. 
Then,  good  my  Hege,  mistake  me  not  so  much 
To  think  my  poverty  is  treacherous. 

Celia.   Dear  sovereign,  hear  me  speak. 

Duke  Frederick.   Ay,  Celia ;   we  stay'd   her  for  your 
sake, 
Else  had  she  with  her  father  rang'd  along. 

Celia.    I  did  not  then  entreat  to  have  her  stay ; 
It  was  your  pleasure  and  your  own  remorse. 
I  was  too  young  that  time  to  value  her,  70 

But  now  I  know  her.     If  she  be  a  traitor, 
Why  so  am  I ;  we  still  have  slept  together, 
Rose  at  an  instant,  learn'd,  play'd,  eat  together, 
And  wheresoe'er  we  went,  like  Juno's  swans, 
Still  we  went  coupled  and  inseparable. 

Duke  Frederick.   She  is  too  subtle  for  thee  j  and  her 
smoothness. 
Her  very  silence  and  her  patience. 
Speak  to  the  people,  and  they  pity  her. 
Thou  art  a  fool  j  she  robs  thee  of  thy  name, 


46  As  You  Like  It  [Act  i 

And  thou  wilt  show  more  bright  and  seem  more  virtuous  80 

When  she  is  gone.     Then  open  not  thy  lips  : 

Firm  and  irrevocable  is  my  doom 

Which  I  have  pass'd  upon  her ;  she  is  banish'd. 

Celia.    Pronounce  that  sentence  then  on  me,  my  liege  j 
I  cannot  live  out  of  her  company. 

Duke  Frederick.   You  are  a  fool.  —  You,  niece,  pro- 
vide yourself; 
If  you  outstay  the  time,  upon  mine  honour, 
And  in  the  greatness  of  my  word,  you  die. 

\_Exeunt  Duke  Frederick  and  Lords. 

Celia.   O  my  poor  Rosalind,  whither  wilt  thou  go? 
Wilt  thou  change  fathers?     I  will  give  thee  mine.  90 

I  charge  thee,  be  not  thou  more  griev'd  than  I  am. 

Rosalind.  I  have  more  cause. 

Celia.  Thou  hast  not,  cousin. 

Prithee,  be  cheerful ;  know'st  thou  not,  the  duke 
Hath  banish'd  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  sunder'd?  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  \  100 

And  do  not  seek  to  take  the  charge  upon  you. 
To  bear  your  griefs  yourself  and  leave  me  out, 
For,  by  this  heaven,  now  at  our  sorrows  pale. 
Say  what  thou  canst,  I  '11  go  along  with  thee. 


Scene  III]  As  You  Like  It  47 

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  '11  put  myself  in  poor  and  mean  attire,         no 
And  with  a  kind  of  umber  smirch  my  face. 
The  hke  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  points  like  a  man? 
A  gallant  curtle-axe  upon  my  thigh, 
A  boar-spear  in  my  hand  ;  and,  in  my  heart 
Lie  there  what  hidden  woman's  fear  there  will, 
We  '11  have  a  swashing  and  a  martial  outside. 
As  many  other  mannish  cowards  have  120 

That  do  outface  it  with  their  semblances. 

Celia.   What  shall  I  call  thee  when  thou  art  a  man? 

Rosalind.   I  '11  have  no  worse  a  name  than  Jove's  own 
page, 
And  therefore  look  you  call  me  Ganymede. 
But  what  will  you  be  call'd? 

Celia.    Something  that  hath  a  reference  to  my  state ; 
No  longer  Celia,  but  Aliena. 

.  Rosalind.    But,  cousin,  what  if  we  assay 'd  to  steal 
The  clownish  fool  out  of  your  father's  court? 
Would  he  not  be  a  comfort  to  our  travel?  130 

Celia.    He  '11  go  along  o'er  the  wide  world  with  me  ; 


48  As  You   Like  It  [Act  i 

Leave  me  alone  to  woo  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  we  in  content 

To  liberty,  and  not  to  banishment.  \_Exeunt 


"A  Poor  Sequester'd  Stag" 


ACT   II 


Scene  I.     The  Forest  of  Arden 


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

Duke  Senior.    Now,  my  co-mates  and  brothers  in  exile, 
,liSLthi?oi_9jd.G-UStaiTi,ma^^^^^^  thisJife-inDj:£LS55;Xet_ 
Than  that^^oTgainted  pomp?     Are  not  these  woods 
More  free  from  peril  than  the  envious  court? 
Here  feel  we  not  the  penalty  of  Adam. 


AS   YOU   LIKE   IT- 


49 


50  As  You  Like  It  [Act  ii 

The  seasons'  difference,  —  as  the  icy  fang 

And  churhsh  chiding  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  lo 

That  feelingly  persuade  me  what  I  am. 

Sweet  are  the  uses  of  adversity,;^! 

Which,  like  the  toad,  ugly  and  venomous, 

Wears  yet  a  precious  jewel  in  his  head ; 

And  this  our  life,  exempt  from  public  haunt, 

Finds  tongues  in  trees,  books  in  the  running  brooks. 

Sermons  in  stones,  and  good  in  everything. 

I  would  not  change  it. 

Amiens.  Happy  is  your  grace. 

That  can  translate  the  stubbornness  of  fortune 
Into  so  quiet  and  so  sweet  a  style.  20 

Duke  Senior.     Come,  shall  we  go  and  kill  us  venison  ? 
And  yet  it  irks  me  the  poor  dappled  fools. 
Being  native  burghers  of  this  desert  city, 
Should  in  their  own  confines  with  forked  heads 
Have  their  round  haunches  gor'd. 

First  Lord.  Indeed,  my  lord. 

The  melancholy  Jaques  grieves  at  that. 
And,  in  that  kind,  swears  you  do  more  usurp 
Than  doth  your  brother  that  hath  banish'd  you. 
To-day  my  lord  of  Amiens  and  myself 
Did  steal  behind  him  as  he  lay  along  30 

Under  an  oak,  whose  antique  root  peeps  out 
Upon  the  brook  that  brawls  along  this  wood, 


Scene  I]  As  You  Like  It  51 

To  the  which  place  a  poor  sequester'd  stag, 

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

Did  come  to  languish ;  and  indeed,  my  lord, 

The  wretched  animal  heav'd  forth  such  groans 

That  their  discharge  did  stretch  his  leathern  coat 

Almost  to  bursting,  and  the  big  round  tears 

Cours'd  one  another  down  his  innocent  nose 

In  piteous  chase  ;  and  thus  the  hairy  fool,  40 

Much  marked  of  the  melancholy  Jaques, 

Stood  on  the  extremest  verge  of  the  swift  brook. 

Augmenting  it  with  tears. 

Duke  Senior.  But  what  said  Jaques  ? 

Did  he  not  moralize  this  spectacle  ? 

First  Lord.     O,  yes,  into  a  thousand  similes. 
First,  for  his  weeping  into  the  needless  stream : 
*■  Poor  deer,'  quoth  he,  '  thou  mak'st  a  testament 
As  worldlings  do,  giving  thy  sum  of  more 
To  that  which  had  too  much.'     Then,  being  there  alone. 
Left  and  abandon' d  of  his  velvet  friends  :  50 

*  'T  is  right,'  quoth  he  ;  '  thus  misery  doth  part 
The  flux  of  company.'     Anon  a  careless  herd. 
Full  of  the  pasture,  jumps  along  by  him, 

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

*  Sweep  on,  you  fat  and  greasy  citizens, 

'T  is  just  the  fashion  ;  wherefore  do  you  look 

Upon  that  poor  and  broken  bankrupt  there  ? ' 

Thus  most  invectively  he  pierceth  through 

The  body  of  the  country,  city,  court. 

Yea,  and  of  this  our  life,  swearing  that  we  60 


52  As  You  Like  It  [Act  ii 

Are  mere  usurpers,  tyrants,  and  what 's  worse, 
To  fright  the  animals  and  to  kill  them  up 
In  their  assign'd  and  native  dwelling-place. 

Dicke  Senior.     And  did  you  leave  him  in  this  contem- 
plation ? 

Second  Lord.  We  did,  my  lord,  weeping  and  commenting 
Upon  the  sobbing  deer. 

Duke  Senior.  Show  me  the  place ; 

I  love  to  cope  him  in  these  sullen  fits. 
For  then  he  's  full  of  matter. 

First  Lord.     I  '11  bring  you  to  him  straight.     \_Exeunf. 

Scene  II.     A  Room  in  the  Palace 
Enter  Duke  Frederick,  with  Lords 

Duke  Frederick.    Can  it  be  possible  that  no  man  saw 
them  ? 
It  cannot  be  ;  some  villains  of  my  court 
Are  of  consent  and  sufferance  in  this. 

First  Lord.     I  cannot  hear  of  any  that  did  see  her. 
The  ladies,  her  attendants  of  her  chamber, 
Saw  her  abed,  and  in  the  morning  early 
They  found  the  bed  untreasur'd  of  their  mistress. 

Second  Lord.  My  lord,  the  roynish  clown,  at  whom  so  oft 
Your  grace  was  wont  to  laugh,  is  also  missing. 
Hesperia,  the  princess'  gentlewoman,  lo 

Confesses  that  she  secretly  o'erheard 
Your  daughter  and  her  cousin  much  commend 
The  parts  and  graces  of  the  wrestler 


Scene  III]  As  You  Like  It  ^^ 

That  did  but  lately  foil  the  sinewy  Charles ; 
And  she  believes,  wherever  they  are  gone, 
That  youth  is  surely  in  their  company. 

Z>uke  Frederick.    Send  to  his  brother  ;  fetch  that  gal- 
lant hither. 
If  he  be  absent,  bring  his  brother  to  me  ; 
I  '11  make  him  find  him.     Do  this  suddenly, 
And  let  not  search  and  inquisition  quail  20 

To  bring  again  these  foolish  runaways.  \_Exeunt. 

1 

Scene  III.     Before   Oliver^s  House 
Enter  Orlando  and  Adam,  meeting 

Orlando.     Who's  there? 

Adam.   What,  my  young  master?   O  my  gentle  master  ! 
O  my  sweet  master  !     O  you  memory 
Of  old  Sir  Rowland  !  why,  what  make  you  here? 
Why  are  you  virtuous  ?  why  do  people  love  you  ? 
And  wherefore  are  you  gentle,  strong,  and  vaKant  ? 
Why  would  you  be  so  fond  to  overcome 
The  bonny  priser  of  the  humorous  duke  ? 
Your  praise  is  come  too  swiftly  home  before  you. 
Know  you  not,  master,  to  some  kind  of  men  10 

Their  graces  serve  them  but  as  enemies? 
No  more  do  yours  ;  your  virtues,  gentle  master, 
Are  sanctified  and  holy  traitors  to  you. 
O,  what  a  world  is  this,  when  what  is  comely 
Envenoms  him  that  bears  it ! 

Orlando.   Why,  what 's  the  matter? 


54  As  You  Like  It  [Act  ii 

Adam.  O  unhappy  youth  ! 

Come  not  within  these  doors  ;  within  this  roof 
The  enemy  of  all  your  graces  lives. 
Your  brother  —  no,  no  brother  ;  yet  the  son  — 
Yet  not  the  son,  I  will  not  call  him  son  20 

Of  him  I  was  about  to  call  his  father  — 
Hath  heard  your  praises,  and  this  night  he  means 
To  burn  the  lodging  where  you  use  to  lie 
And  you  within  it ;  if  he  fail  of  that, 
He  will  have  other  means  to  cut  you  off. 
I  overheard  him  in  his  practices. 
This  is  no  place ;  this  house  is  but  a  butchery. 
Abhor  it,  fear  it,  do  not  enter  it. 

Orlando.   Why,  whither,  Adam,  wouldst  thou  have  me 
go? 

Adam.    No  matter  whither,  so  you  come  not  here.     30 

Orlando.    What,  wouldst  thou  have  me  go  and  beg  my 
food? 
Or  with  a  base  and  boisterous  sword  enforce 
A  thievish  living  on  the  common  road  ? 
This  I  must  do,  or  know  not  what  to  do. 
Yet  this  I  will  not  do,  do  how  I  can ; 
I  rather  will  subject  me  to  the  malice 
Of  a  diverted  blood  and  bloody  brother. 

Adam.    But  do  not  so.     I  have  five  hundred  crowns, 
The  thrifty  hire  I  sav'd  under  your  father, 
Which  I  did  store  to  be  my  foster-nurse  40 

When  service  should  in  my  old  limbs  lie  lame 
And  unregarded  age  in  corners  thrown. 


Scene  III]  As  You   Like  It  55 

Take  that,  and  He  that  doth  the  ravens  feed, 

Yea,  providently  caters  for  the  sparrow. 

Be  comfort  to  my  age  !     Here  is  the  gold ; 

All  this  I  give  you.     Let  me  be  your  servant. 

Though  I  look  old,  yet  I  am  strong  and  lusty, 

For  in  my  youth  I  never  did  apply 

Hot  and  rebellious  liquors  in  my  blood. 

Nor  did  not  with  unbashful  forehead  woo  50 

The  means  of  weakness  and  debility ; 

Therefore  my  a^e  is  as  a  lusty  winter, 

Frosty,  but  kindly.     Let  me  go  with  you ; 

I  '11  do  the  service  of  a  younger  man 

In  all  your  business  and  necessities. 

Orlando.    O  good  old  man  !  how  well  in  thee  appears 
The  constant  service  of  the  antique  world. 
When  service  sweat  for  duty,  not  for  meed  ! 
Thou  art  not  for  the  fashion  of  these  times. 
Where  none  will  sweat  but  for  promotion,  60 

A.nd  having  that,  do  choke  their  service  up 
Even  with  the  having ;  it  is  not  so  with  thee. 
But,  poor  old  man,  thou  prun'st  a  rotten  tree, 
That  cannot  so  much  as  a  blossom  yield 
In  lieu  of  all  thy  pains  and  husbandry. 
But  come  thy  ways  ;  we  '11  go  along  together. 
And  ere  we  have  thy  youthful  wages  spent. 
We  '11  light  upon  some  settled  low  content. 

Adam.    Master,  go  on,  and  I  will  follow  thee, 
To  the  last  gasp,  with  truth  and  loyalty.  70 

From  seventeen  years  till  now  almost  fourscore 


^6  As  You   Like  It  [Act  ii 

Here  lived  I,  but  now  live  here  no  more. 
At  seventeen  years  many  their  fortunes  seek, 
But  at  fourscore  it  is  too  late  a  week ; 
Yet  fortune  cannot  recompense  me  better 
Than  to  die  well,  and  not  my  master's  debtor. 

Scene  IV.     T/te  Forest  of  Arden 

Enter  Rosalind  for  Ganymede,  Celia  for  Aliena, 
and  Touchstone 

Rosalind.    O  Jupiter  !  how  weary  are  my  spirits  ! 

Touchstone.  I  care  not  for  my  spirits,  if  my  legs 
were  not  weary. 

Rosalind.  I  could  find  in  my  heart  to  disgrace  my 
man's  apparel  and  to  cry  like  a  woman,  but  I  must 
comfort  the  v/eaker  vessel,  as  doublet  and  hose  ought 
to  show  itself  courageous  to  petticoat ;  therefore 
courage,  good  Aliena  ! 

Celia.  I  pray  you,  bear  with  me ;  I  cannot  go  no 
further.  lo 

Touchstone.  For  my  part,  I  had  rather  bear  with 
you  than  bear  you ;  yet  I  should  bear  no  cross  if  I 
did  bear  you,  for  I  think  you  have  no  money  in  your 
purse. 

Rosalind.    Well,  this  is  the  forest  of  Arden. 

Touchstone,  Ay,  now  am  I  in  Arden ;  the  more 
fool  I  !  when  I  was  at  home,  I  was  in  a  better  place : 
but  travellers  must  be  content. 

Rosalind.    Ay,    be    so,    good    Touchstone.  —  Look 


Scene  IV]  As  You   Like  It  57 

you  who  comes  here  ;    a  young  man   and  an  old  in  20 
solemn  talk. 

Enter  CoRiN  and  Silvius 

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  lov'd  ere  now. 

Silvius,    No,  Corin,  being  old,  thou  canst  not  guess, 
Though  in  thy  youth  thou  wast  as  true  a  lover 
As  ever  sigh'd  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  30 

Hast  thou  been  drawn  to  by  thy  fantasy? 

Corin.    Into  a  thousand  that  I  have  forgotten. 

Silvius.    O,  thou  didst  then  ne'er  love  so  heartily  ! 
If  thou  remember'st  not  the  slightest  folly 
That  ever  love  did  make  thee  run  into, 
Thou  hast  not  lov'd ; 
Or  if  thou  hast  not  sat  as  I  do  now. 
Wearing  thy  hearer  in  thy  mistress'  praise, 
Thou  hast  not  lov'd  j 

Or  if  thou  hast  not  broke  from  company  40 

x\bruptly,  as  my  passion  now  makes  me, 
Thou  hast  not  lov'd. 

0  Phebe,  Phebe,  Phebe  !  {^Exit. 
Rosalind.    Alas,    poor    shepherd !    searching    of    thy 

wound, 

1  have  by  hard  adventure  found  mine  own. 


58  As  You  Like  It  [Act  ii 

Touchstone.  And  I  mine.  I  remember  when  I  was 
in  love  I  broke  my  sword  upon  a  stone,  and  bid  him 
take  that  for  coming  a-night  to  Jane  Smile ;  and  I 
remember  the  kissing  of  her  batlet  and  the  cow's 
dugs  that  her  pretty  chopt  hands  had  milked ;  and  I  50 
remember  the  wooing  of  a  peascod  instead  of  her, 
from  whom  I  took  two  cods,  and,  giving  her  them 
again,  said  with  weeping  tears,  *Wear  these  for  my 
sake.'  We  that  are  true  lovers  run  into  strange 
capers ;  but  as  all  is  mortal  in  nature,  so  is  all  nature 
in  love  mortal  in  folly. 

Rosalind.  Thou  speakest  wiser  than  thou  art  ware  of. 
/      Touchstone.    Nay,  I    shall  ne'er  be  ware    of    mine 
V  own  wit  till  I  break  my  shins  against  it. 

Rosalind.   Jove,  Jove  !  this  shepherd's  passion  60 

Is  much  upon  my  fashion. 

Touchstone.   And   mine ;    but   it  grows  something 
stale  with  me. 

Celia.    I  pray  you,  one  of  you  question  yond  man 
If  he  for  gold  will  give  us  any  food ; 
I  faint  almost  to  death. 

Touchstone.  Holla,  you  clown  ! 

Rosalind.    Peace,  fool ;  he  's  not  thy  kinsman. 

Covin.  Who  calls? 

Touchstone.   Your  betters,  sir. 

Corin.  Else  are  they  very  wretched. 

Rosalind.   Peace,  I  say.  —  Good  even  to  you,  friend. 

Corin.   And  to  you,  gentle  sir,  and  to  you  all.  70 

Rosalind.   I  prithee,  shepherd,  if  that  love  or  gold 


Scene  IV]  As  You  Like  It  59 

Can  in  this  desert  place  buy  entertainment, 
Bring  us  where  we  may  rest  ourselves  and  feed. 
Here  's  a  young  maid  with  travel  much  oppress'd 
And  faints  for  succour. 

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. 
My  master  is  of  churlish  disposition,  80 

And  little  recks  to  find  the  way  to  heaven 
By  doing  deeds  of  hospitality. 
Besides,  his  cote,  his  flocks,  and  bounds  of  feed 
Are  now  on  sale,  and  at  our  sheepcote  now, 
By  reason  of  his  absence,  there  is  nothing 
That  you  will  feed  on ;  but  what  is,  come  see. 
And  in  my  voice  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, 
That  little  cares  for  buying  any  thing.  90 

Rosalind.    I  pray  thee,  if  it  stand  with  honesty, 
Buy  thou  the  cottage,  pasture,  and  the  flock 
And  thou  shalt  have  to  pay  for  it  of  us. 

Celia.  And  we  will  mend  thy  wages.     I  like  this  place. 
And  willingly  could  waste  my  time  in  it. 

Corin.    Assuredly  the  thing  is  to  be  sold. 
Go  with  me  ;  if  you  like  upon  report 


6o                      As  You  Like  It  [Act  ii 

The  soil,  the  profit,  and  this  kind  of  life, 

I  will  your  very  faithful  feeder  be,  99 

And  buy  it  with  your  gold  right  suddenly.  \_Exeunt. 


Scene  V.     The  Forest 
Enter  Amiens,  Jaques,  and  otheis 

SONG 

Amiens.         Under  the  greenwood  tree 
Who  loves  to  lie  with  me, 
And  turii  his  merry  note 
Unto  the  sweet  bi7^d''s  throat, 
Come  hither,  come  hither,  come  hither ; 
Here  shall  he  see 
No  enemy 
Bui  winter  and  roiigh  weather. 

Jaques.    More,  more,  I  prithee,  more  ! 

A7niens.    It  will   make  you   melancholy,  Monsieur  lo 
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 ;  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  — 
call  you  'em  stanzos? 


Scene  V]  As  You   Like  It  6i 

Amiens.   What  you  will,  Monsieur  Jaques.  20 

Jaques.  Nay,  I  care  not  for  their  names ;  they  owe 
me  nothing.     Will  you  sing? 

Afniens.    More  at  your  request  than  to  please  myself. 

Jaques.  Well  then,  if  ever  I  thank  any  man,  I  '11 
thank  you ;  but  that  they  call  compliment  is  like  the 
encounter  of  two  dog-apes,  and  when  a  man  thanks 
me  heartily,  methinks  I  have  given  him  a  penny  and 
he  renders  me  the  beggarly  thanks.  Come,  sing ;  and 
you  that  will  not,  hold  your  tongues. 

Amiens.   Well,  I  '11  end  the  song.  —  Sirs,  cover  the  30 
while  ;  the  duke  will  drink  under  this  tree.  —  He  hath 
been  all  this  day  to  look  you. 

Jaques.  And  I  have  been  all  this  day  to  avoid  him. 
He  is  too  disputable  for  my  company ;  I  think  of  as 
many  matters  as  he,  but  I  give  heaven  thanks  and 
make  no  boast  of  them.     Come,  warble,  come. 


SONG 

Who  doth  ambition  shun 

[All  together  here. 
And  loves  to  live  /'  the  sun^ 
Seeking  the  food  he  eats 
And pleas^ d  with  what  he  gets,  40 

Come  hither,  come  hither,  come  hither ; 
Here  shall  he  see 
No  enemy 
But  winter  and  rough  weather. 


62  As  You  Like  It  [Act  ii 

Jaques.   I  '11  give  you  a  verse  to  this  note  that  I  made 
yesterday  in  despite  of  my  invention. 
Amiens.    And  I  '11  sing  it. 
Jaques.   Thus  it  goes  :  — 

If  it  do  come  to  pass 

That  any  man  turn  ass,      .  '  50 

Leaving  his  wealth  and  ease, 
A  stubboim  will  to  please, 
Ducdame,  ducdame,  due  dame  ; 
Here  shall  he  see 
Gross  fools  as  he, 
An  if  he  will  come  to  me. 

Amiens.   What 's  that  ^  ducdame  ? ' 

Jaques.  'T  is  a  Greek  invocation,  to  call  fools  into 
a  circle.  I  '11  go  sleep,  if  I  can  ;  if  I  cannot,  I  '11  rail 
against  all  the  firstborn  of  Egypt.  60 

Amiens.  And  I  '11  go  seek  the  duke  ;  his  banquet  is 
prepared.  \_Exeunt  severally. 

Scene  VI.     The  Forest 
Enter  Orlando  and  Adam 

Adam.  Dear  master,  I  can  go  no  further.  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  a  little,  cheer  thyself 


Scene  VII]  As  You   Like  It  6^ 

a  little.  If  this  uncouth  forest  yield  any  thing  savage, 
I  will  either  be  food  for  it  or  bring  it  for  food  to  thee. 
Thy  conceit  is  nearer  death  than  thy  powers.  For  my 
sake  be  comfortable ;  hold  death  awhile  at  the  arm's 
end.  I  will  here  be  with  thee  presently,  and  if  I  bring  lo 
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  lookest  cheerly,  and  I  '11 
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  any  thing  in 
this  desert.     Cheerly,  good  Adam  !  \_Exeunt. 

Scene  VII.     The  Forest 

A  table  set  out.     Enter  Duke  Senior,  Amiens,  and  Lords 

like  Outlaws 

Duke  Senior,    I  think  he  be  transform'd  into  a  beast ; 
For  I  can  no  where  find  him  like  a  man. 

Fii'st  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,  grow  musical, 
We  shall  have  shortly  discord  in  the  spheres. 
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, 


64  As  You  Like  It  [Act  11 

That  your  poor  friends  must  woo  your  company  !  10 

What,  you  look  merrily  ! 

Jaques,    A  fool,  a  fool !     I  met  a  fool  i'  the  forest, 
A  motley  fool  !  —  a  miserable  world  !  — 
As  I  do  live  by  food,  I  met  a  fool, 
Who  laid  him  down  and  bask'd  him  in  the  sun, 
And  rail'd  on  Lady  Fortune  in  good  terms, 
In  good  set  terms,  and  yet  a  motley  fool. 
'  Good  morrow,  fool,'  quoth  I.     '■  No,  sir,'  quoth  he, 
'  Call  me  not  fool  till  heaven  hath  sent  me  fortune.' 
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. 
'T  is  but  an  hour  ago  since  it  was  nine, 
And  after  one  hour  more  't  will  be  eleven ; 
And  so,  from  hour  to  hour,  we  ripe  and  ripe, 
And  then,  from  hour  to  hour,  we  rot  and  rot ; 
And  thereby  hangs  a  tale.'     When  I  did  hear 
The  motley  fool  thus  moral  on  the  time, 
My  lungs  began  to  crow  like  chanticleer,  30 

That  fools  should  be  so  deep-contemplative, 
And  I  did  laugh  sans  intermission 
An  hour  by  his  dial.  —  O  noble  fool  ! 
A  worthy  fool  !     Motley  's  the  only  wear. 

Duke  Senior.    What  fool  is  this? 

/agues.  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. 


Scene  VII]  As  You   Like  It  6^ 

Which  is  as  dry  as  the  remainder  biscuit 

After  a  voyage,  he  hath  strange  places  cramm'd  40 

With  observation,  the  whicli  he  vents 

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 ; 

Provided  that  you  weed  your  better  judgments 
Of  all  opinion  that  grows  rank  in  them 
That  I  am  wise.     I  must  have  liberty 
Withal,  as  large  a  charter  as  the  wind,     ^ 
To  blow  on  whom  I  please,  for  so  fools  have ; 
And  they  that  are  most  galled  v/ith  my  folly,  50 

They  most  must  laugh.     And  why,  sir,  must  they  so? 
The  '  why '  is  plain  as  way  to  parish  church. 
He  that  a  fool  doth  very  wisely  hit 
Doth  very  foolishly,  although  he  smart. 
But  to  seem  senseless  of  the  bob ;  if  not. 
The  wise  man's  folly  is  anatomiz'd 
Even  by  the  squandering  glances  of  the  fool. 
Invest  me  in  my  motley ;  give  me  leave 
To  speak  my  mind,  and  I  will  through  and  through 
Cleanse  the  foul  body  of  the  infected  world,  60 

If  they  will  patiently  receive  my  medicine. 

Duke  Senior.    Fie    on    thee  !    I  can  tell    what    thou 
wouldst  do. 

Jaques.   What,  for  a  counter,  would  I  do  but  good? 

Duke  Senior.  Most  mischievous  foul  sin,  in  chiding  sin ; 
For  thou  thyself  hast  been  a  libertine, 

AS   YOU    LIKE   IT  —  5 


66  As  You  Like  It  [Act  ii 

As  sensual  as  the  brutish  sting  itself, 
And  all  the  embossed  sores  and  headed  evils 
That  thou  with  license  of  free  foot  hast  caught 
Wouldst  thou  disgorge  into  the  general  world. 

Jaques.   Why,  who  cries  out  on  pride,  70 

That  can  therein  tax  any  private  party? 
Doth  it  not  flow  as  hugely  as  the  sea, 
Till  that  the  wearer's  very  means  do  ebb? 
What  woman  in  the  city  do  I  name 
When  that  I  say  the  city  woman  bears 
The  cost  of  princes  on  unworthy  shouldei's  ? 
Who  can  come  in  and  say  that  I  mean  her, 
When  such  a  one  as  she  such  is  her  neighbour? 
Or  what  is  he  of  basest  function 

That  says  his  bravery  is  not  on  my  cost,  80 

Thinking  that  I  mean  him,  but  therein  suits 
His  folly  to  the  mettle  of  my  speech? 
There  then ;  how  then  ?  what  then  ?    Let  me  see  wherein 
My  tongue  hath  wrong'd  him.     If  it  do  him  right. 
Then  he  hath  wrong'd  himself;  if  he  be  free, 
Why  then  my  taxing  like  a  wild-goose  flies, 
Unclaim'd  of  any  man.  —  But  who  comes  here? 

:  .  Enter  Orlando,  with  his  sword  draivn 

Orlando.    Forbear,  and  eat  no  more. 

Jaques.  Why,  I  have  eat 

none  yet. 
Orlando.    Nor  shalt  not,  till  necessity  be  serv'd. 
Jaques.    Of  what  kind  should  this  cock  come  of?       90 


Scene  VII]  As  You   Like  It  67 

Duke  Senior.   Art   thou    thus   bolden'd,   man,   by  thy 
distress, 
Or  else  a  rude  despiser  of  good  manners, 
That  in  civility  thou  seem'st  so  empty  ? 

Orlando.  You  touch'd  my  vein  at  first ;  the  thorny  point 
Of  bare  distress  hath  ta'en  from  me  the  show 
Of  smooth  civility,  yet  am  I  inland  bred 
And  know  some  nurture.     But  forbear,  I  say ; 
He  dies  that  touches  any  of  this  fruit 
Till  I  and  my  affairs  are  answered. 

Jaques.   An  you  will  not  be  answered  with  reason,  I  too 
must  die. 

Duke  Senior.    What  would  you  have  ?     Your  gentleness 
shall  force. 
More  than  your  force  move  us  to  gentleness. 

Orlando.   I  almost  die  for  food,  and  let  me  have  it. 

Duke  Senior.    Sit  down  and  feed,  and  welcome  to  our 
table. 

Orlando.  Speak  you  so  gently  ?    Pardon  me,  I  pray  you. 
I  thought  that  all  things  had  been  savage  here, 
And  therefore  put  I  on  the  countenance 
Of  stern  commandment.     But  whate'er  you  are 
That  in  this  desert  inaccessible,  no 

Under  the  shade  of  melancholy  boughs, 
Lose  and  neglect  the  creeping  hours  of  time, 
If  ever  you  have  look'd  on  better  days. 
If  ever  been  where  bells  have  knoll'd  to  church. 
If  ever  sat  at  any  good  man's  feast. 
If  ever  from  your  eyelids  wip'd  a  tear, 


68  As  You   Like  It  [Act  ii 

And  know  what  't  is  to  pity  and  be  pitied, 
Let  gentleness  my  strong  enforcement  be ; 
In  the  which  hope  I  blush,  and  hide  my  sword. 

Duke  Senior.  True  is  it  that  we  have  seen  better  days,  120 
And  have  with  holy  bell  been  knoll'd  to  church. 
And  sat  at  good  men's  feasts,  and  wip'd  our  eyes 
Of  drops  that  sacred  pity  hath  engender'd ; 
And  therefore  sit  you  down  in  gentleness, 
And  take  upon  command  what  help  we  have 
That  to  your  wanting  may  be  minister'd. 

Orlando.   Then  but  forbear  your  food  a  little  while. 
Whiles,  like  a  doe,  I  go  to  find  my  fawn 
And  give  it  food.     There  is  an  old  poor  man. 
Who  after  me  hath  many  a  weary  step  130 

Limp'd  in  pure  love ;  till  he  be  first  suffic'd, 
Oppress'd  with  two  weak  evils,  age  and  hunger, 
I  will  not  touch  a  bit. 

Duke  Senior.  Go  find  him  out. 

And  we  will  nothing  waste  till  you  return. 

Orlando.    I  thank  ye ;   and  be    blest    for   your   good 
comfort !  \_Exit. 

Duke  Senior.   Thou  seest  we  are  not  all  alone  unhappy ; 
This  wide  and  universal  theatre 
Presents  more  woeful  pageants  than  the  scene 
.VJ/lierein  we  play  in. 

Jdques.  All  the  world  's  a  stage, 

And  all  the  men  and  women  merely  players  j  140 

They  have  their  exits  and  their  entrances. 
And  one  man  in  his  time  plays  many  parts, 


Scene  VII]  As   You    Like   It  69 

His  acts  being  seven  ages.     At  first  the  infant, 

Mewling  and  puking  in  the  nurse's  arms ; 

Then  the  whining  school-boy,  with  his  satchel 

And  shining  morning  face,  creeping  hke  snail 

Unwillingly  to  school ;  and  then  the  lover. 

Sighing  like  furnace,  with  a  woeful  ballad 

Made  to  his  mistress'  eyebrow ;   then  a  soldier, 

Full  of  strange  oaths  and  bearded  like  the  pard,  150 

Jealous  in  honour,  sudden  and  quick  in  quarrel. 

Seeking  the  bubble  reputation 

Even  in  the  cannon's  mouth  ;  and  then  the  justice, 

In  fair  round  belly  with  good  capon  lin'd, 

With  eyes  severe  and  beard  of  formal  cut. 

Full  of  wise  saws  and  modern  instances  ; 

And  so  he  plays  his  part.l  The  sixth  age  shifts 

Into  the  lean  and  slipper'd  pantaloon, 

With  spectacles  on  nose  and  pouch  on  side, 

His  youthful  hose  well  sav'd,  a  w^orld  too  wide  160 

For  his  shrunk  shank  ;  and  his  big  manly  voice. 

Turning  again  toward  childish  treble,  pipes 

And  whistles  in  his  sound.     Last  scene  of  all. 

That  ends  this  strange  eventful  history. 

Is  second  childishness  and  mere  oblivion. 

Sans  teeth,  sans  eyes,  sans  taste,  sans  every  thing. 


Entei'  Orlando,  with  Adam 
Duke  Senior.   Welcome.      Set    down    your    venerable 
burden. 
And  let  him  feed. 


yo  As  You   Like  It  [Act  ii 

Orlando.    I  thank  you  most  for  him. 

Adam.  So  had  you  need  ; 

I  scarce  can  speak  to  thank  you  for  myself.  170 

Duke  Senior.   Welcome  ;  fall  to.    I  will  not  trouble  you 
As  yet,  to  question  you  about  your  fortunes.  — 
Give  us  some  music ;  and,  good  cousin,  sing. 

Song 

Amiens.        Blow,  blow,  thou  winter  wind, 
Thou  art  not  so  unkind 
As  man's  ingratitude ; 
Thy  tooth  is  not  so  keen, 
Because  thou  art  not  seen. 
Although  thy  breath  be  rude. 
Hei^h-ho  !  sing,  heigh-ho  !  unto  the  green  holly;     180 
Most  friendship  is  feigning,  most  loving  mere  folly  ; 
Then,  heigh-ho,  the  holly  / 
This  life  is  most  jolly  I 

Freeze,  freeze,  thou  bitter  sky, 
That  dost  not  bite  so  nigh 

As  benefits  foi'got ; 
Though  thou  the  waters  wai'p. 
Thy  sting  is  not  so  sharp 

As  friend  remember' d  not. 
Heigh-ho  !  sing,  etc.  190 

Duke  Senior.   If  that  you  were  the  good  Sir  Rowland's 
son. 


Scene  VII]  As  You   Like   It  71 

As  you  have  whisper'd  faithfully  you  were, 

And  as  mine  eye  doth  his  effigies  witness 

Most  truly  Hmn'd  and  living  in  your  face, 

Be  truly  welcome  hither.     I  am  the  duke 

That  lov'd  your  father ;  the  residue  of  your  fortune. 

Go  to  my  cave  and  tell  me.  —  Good  old  man, 

Thou  art  right  welcome  as  thy  master  is.  — 

Support  him  by  the  arm.  —  Give  me  your  hand, 

And  let  me  all  your  fortunes  understand.        [Exeunt.  200 


\ 


l^ 


"Sweet  Phebe,  do  not  scorn  me" 


ACT   III 


Scene  I.     A  Roo7n  in  the  Palace 


Enter  Duke  Frederick,  Lords,  and  Oliver 

Duke  Frederick.    Not  see  him   since?     Sir,   sir,   that 
cannot  be ; 
But  were  I  not  the  better  part  made  mercy, 
I  should  not  seek  an  absent  argument 

72 


Scene  II J  As  You   Like  It  73 

Of  my  revenge,  thou  present.     But  look  to  it ; 

Find  out  thy  brother,  wheresoe'er  he  is. 

Seek  him  with  candle ;  bring  him  dead  or  Hving 

Within  this  twelvemonth,  or  turn  thou  no  more 

To  seek  a  living  in  our  territory. 

Thy  lands  and  all  things  that  thou  dost  call  thine 

Worth  seizure  do  we  seize  into  our  hands,  10 

Till  thou  canst  quit  thee  by  thy  brother's  mouth 

Of  what  we  think  against  thee. 

Oliver.    O  that  your  highness  knew  my  heart  in  this  ! 
I  never  lov'd  my  brother  in  my  life^ 

Duke  Frederick.   More  villain  thou.  —  Well,  push  him 
out  of  doors. 
And  let  my  officers  of  such  a  nature 
Make  an  extent  upon  his  house  and  lands. 
Do  this  expediently,  and  turn  him  going.  \_Exeunt. 


Scene  II.     The  Forest 
Enter  Orlando,  with  a  paper 

Oi'lando.    Hang  there,  my  verse,  in  witness  of  my  love  ; 

And  thou,  thrice-crowned  queen  of  night,  survey 
With  thy  chaste  eye,  from  thy  pale  sphere  above,         f 

Thy  huntress'  name  that  my  full  life  doth  sway. 
O  Rosahnd  !  these  trees  shall  be  my  books, 

And  in  their  barks  my  thoughts  I  '11  character, 
That  every  eye  which  in  this  forest  looks 

Shall  see  thy  virtue  witness'd  every  where. 


74  As  You   Like  It  [Act  iii 

Run,  run,  Orlando ;  carve  on  every  tree 

The  fair,  the  chaste,  and  unexpressive  she.  \_ExiL  lo 

Enter  Corin  and  Touchstone 

Corin.   And  how  like  you  this  shepherd's  life,  Mas- 
/     ter  Touchstone  ? 

/  Touchstone.  Truly,  shepherd,  in  respect  of  itself,  it 
V/  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  hfe.  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  it  is  a  spare  hfe,  look  you,  it  fits 
my  humour  well ;  but  as  there  is  no  more  plenty  in  20 
it,  it  goes  much  against  my  stomach.  Hast  any  phi- 
losophy 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.         30 

Touchstone.   Such  a  one  is  a  natural  philosopher, 
-i  ;-  Wast  ever  in  court,  shepherd? 

Corin.    No,  truly. 
v^'  Touchstone.   Then  thou  art  damned. 

Corin.    Nay,  I  hope, — 


7^. 


Scene  II]  As  You  Like  It 

Touchstone.  Truly,  thou  art  damned,  like  an  ill- 
roasted  egg  all  on  one  side.  I 

Corin.    For  not  being  at  court?     Your  reason. 

Touchstone.   Why,  if  thou  never  wast  at  court,  thou 
never  savv'st  good  manners  ;  if  thou  never  saw'st  good  40 
manners,   then    thy  manners   must   be   wicked ;    and    1 
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  behaviour  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. 

Toiichsto7ie.    Instance,  briefly ;  come,  instance.  50 

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  whole- 
some 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  60 
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 


76  As  You   Like   It  [Act  ill 

the  wise,  and  perpend ;  civet  is  of  a  baser  birth  than 
tar,  the  very  uncleanly  flux  of  a  cat.  Mend  the  in- 
stance, shepherd. 

Corin.   You  have  too  courtly  a  wit  for  me  ;  I  '11  rest. 

Touchstone.   Wilt    thou    rest   damned?     God   help 
thee,  shallow  man  !    God  make  incision  in  thee  !  thou  70 
art  raw. 

Corin.  Sir,  I  am  a  true  labourer :  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  j  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.     If  thou  be'st 
not  damned  for  this,  the  devil  himself  will  have  no    ' 
shepherds ;    I    cannot    see    else    how    thou    shouldst  80 
scape. 

Corin.  Here  comes  young  Master  Ganymede,  my 
new  mistress's  brother. 

Enter  Rosalind,  reading  a  paper 

Rosalind.    From  the  east  to  western  Ind, 
No  Jewel  is  like  Rosalind. 
Her  wo7'th,  being  mounted  on  the  wind, 
Through  all  the  world  bears  Rosalind. 
All  the  pictures  fairest  liiC d 
Are  but  black  to  Rosalind. 
Let  no  face  be  kept  in  mind  90 

But  the  fair  of  Rosalind. 


Scene  II]  As  You   Like  It  77 

Touchstone.    I  '11  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  Rosalind. 
If  the  cat  will  after  kind, 
So  be  sure  will  Rosalind.  100 

Winter  garments  must  be  lin'd, 
So  must  slender  Rosalind. 
They  that  reap  must  sheaf  and  bind  ; 
Then  to  cart  with  Rosalind. 
Sweetest  nut  hath  sourest  rind, 
Such  a  nut  is  Rosalind, 
i    He  that  sweetest  rose  will  find 
Must  find  love's  prick  and  Rosahnd. 
This  is  the  very  false  gallop  of  verses ;  why  do  you 
infect  yourself  with  them  ?  no 

Rosalind.   Peace,  you  dull  fool !     I  found  them  on 

a  tree. 
Touchstone.  Truly,  the  tree  yields  bad  fruit. 
Rosalind.  I  '11  graff  it  with  you,  and  then  I  shall 
graff  it  with  a  medlar ;  then  it  will  be  the  earliest 
fruit  i'  the  country,  for  you  '11  be  rotten  ere  you 
be  half  ripe,  and  that  's  the  right  virtue  of  the 
medlar. 

Touchstone.   You  have  said  j  but  whether  wisely  or 
no,  let  the  forest  judge. 


78  V  As  You   Like  It  [Act  iii 

Enter  Celia,  with  a  writing 

Rosalind.    Peace  !  120 

Here  comes  my  sister,  reading  j  stand  aside. 
Ce'ia.    [Reads] 

Why  should  this  a  desert  be  ? 

For  it  is  tmpeopled ?     No; 
Tongues  I  '11  hang  on  every  tree, 

That  shall  civil  sayings  show  : 
Some,  how  brief  the  life  of  man 

Runs  his  erring  pilgrimage, 
That  the  stretching  of  a  span 

Buckles  in  his  sum  of  age  ; 
Some,  of  violated  vows  130 

''Twixt  the  souls  of  fiend  and  friend. 
But  upon  the  fairest  boughs, 

Or  at  every  sentence  end. 
Will  I  Rosalinda  write ^ 

Teaching  all  that  read  to  know 
The  quintessence  of  every  sprite 

Heaven  would  i?i  little  show. 
Therefoi^e  Heaven  Nature  chai^g'd 

That  one  body  should  be  filPd 
With  all gi'aces  wide-enlarg' d ;  140 

Nature  p7^esently  distilVd 
Helen's  cheek,  but  not  her  heart, 

Cleopatra' s  majesty, 
Atalantd's  better  part. 

Sad  Lucr end's  modesty. 


Scene  II]  As  You  Like  It  .  79 

Thus  Rosalind  of  many  parts 

By  heavenly  synod  was  devised, 
Of  many  faces  J  eyes,  and  hearts, 
To  have  the  touches  dearest  priz'd. 
Heaven  would  that  she  these  gifts  should  have,    150 
And  I  to  live  and  die  her  slave. 
Rosalind.    O    most   gentle    Jupiter  !    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  hon- 
ourable retreat ;  though  not  with  bag  and  baggage,  yet 
with  scrip  and  scrippage. 

\_Exeunt  Corin  and  Touchstone. 
Celia.   Didst  thou  hear  these  verses  ?  160 

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.  Ay,  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  170 
trees  ? 

Rosalind.  I  was  seven  of  the  nine  days  out  of  the 
wonder  before  you  came  ;  for  look  here  what  I  found 


8o  As  You   Like  It  [Act  iii 

on  a  palm-tree.  I  was  never  so  be-rhymed  since  Py- 
thagoras' 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  colour?  i8o 

Rosalind.    I  prithee,  who  ? 

Celia.  O  Lord,  Lord  !  It  is  a  hard  matter  for  friends 
to  meet ;  but  mountains  may  be  removed  with  earth- 
quakes 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  wonder- 
ful wonderful !  and  yet  again  wonderful,  and  after  that,  190 
out  of  all  whooping  ! 

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  stam- 
mer, 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  I  may  drink  thy  200 
tidings.  Is  he  of  God's  making  ?  What  manner  of  man  ? 
Is  his  head  worth  a  hat,  or  his  chin  worth  a  beard  ? 


Scene  II]  As  You  Like  It  8 1 

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.  210 

Celia.    I'  faith,  coz,  't  is  he. 

Rosalind.    Orlando  ? 

Celia.    Orlando. 

Rosalind.  Alas  the  day  !  what  shall  I  do  with  my 
doublet  and  hose?  —  What  did  he  when  thou  sawest 
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.  220 

Celia.   You  must  borrow  me  Gargantua's  mouth  first ; 
't  is  a  word  too  great  for  any  mouth  of  this  age's  size. 
To  say  ay  and  no  to  these  particulars  is  more  than  to 
yaswer  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  find- 
ing him,  and  relish  it  with  good  observance.     I  found  230 
him  under  a  tree,  like  a  dropped  acorn. 

AS   YOU    LIKE   IT  —  6 


82  As  You   Like  It  [Act  iii 

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  240 
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  bringest  me  out  of  tune. 

Rosalind.    Do  you  not  know  I  am  a  woman?  when 
I  think,  I  must  speak.     Sweet,  say  on. 

Celia.    You  bring  me  out.  —  Soft !    comes  he  not 

here? 

Enter  Orlando  and  Jaques 

Rosalind.    'T  is  he  ;  slink  by,  and  note  him.  250 

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  wi'  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. 


Scene  II J        •      As  You   Like  It  83 

Orlando.    I   pray  you,  mar  no  moe  of  my  verses  260 
with  reading  them  ill-favouredly. 
Jaques.    Rosalind  is  your  love's  name? 
Orlando.   Yes,  just. 
/agues.    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  270 
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  't  was 
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.     280 
Orlando.    'T  is  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. 


84  As  You   Like   It  [Act  in 

Jaques.  I  '11  tarry  no  longer  with  you ;  farewell, 
good  Signior  Love.  290 

Orlando.  I  am  glad  of  your  departure  ;  adieu,  good 
Monsieur  Melancholy.  \_Exit  Jaques. 

Rosalind.  \_Aside  to  Celia]  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  't  o'clock? 

Orlando.  You  should  ask  me  what  time  o'  day; 
there  's  no  clock  in  the  forest. 

Rosalind.   Then  there  is  no  true  lover  in  the  forest ;  300 
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  '11  tell  you  who  Time 
ambles  withal,  who  Time  trots  withal,  who  Time  gal- 
lops withal,  and  who  he  stands  still  withal. 

Orlando.    I  prithee,  who  doth  he  trot  withal? 

Rosalind.   Marry,  he  trots  hard  with  a  young  maid  310 
between  the  contract  of  her  marriage  and  the  day 
it  is  solemnized :    if  the  interim  be  but  a  se'nnight. 
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 


Scene  iij  As  You.  Like  It  85 

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  320 
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.  330 

Orlando.   Where  dwell  you,  pretty  youth  ? 

Rosalind.  With  this  shepherdess,  my  sister ;  here 
in  the  skirts  of  the  forest,  like  fringe  upon  a  petticoat. 

Oi'lando.    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  dwelHng. 

Rosalind.  I  have  been  tol4  so  of  many ;  but  indeed 
an  old  religious  uncle  of  mino-taught  me  to  speak,  who  340 
was  in  his  youth  an  inland  man,  one  that  knew  court- 
ship 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 
offences  as  he  hath  generally  taxed  their  whole  sex 
withal. 


86  As  You  Like  It  [Act  ill 

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  seem-  350 
ing  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  Rosa- 
lind 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.  360 

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. 

07'lando.   What  were  his  marks  ? 

Rosalind.  A  lean  cheek,  which  you  have  not ;  a 
blue  eye  and  sunken,  which  you  have  not ;  an  unques- 
tionable spirit,  which  you  have  not ;  a  beard  neglected, 
which  you  have  not;  but  I  pardon  you  for  that,  for 370 
simply  your  having  in  beard  is  a  younger  brother's  rev- 
enue. Then  your  hose  should  be  ungartered,  your 
bonnet  unhanded,  your  sleeve  unbuttoned,  your  shoe 
untied,  and  every  thing  about  you  demonstrating  a 
careless  desolation.     But  you  are  no  such  man ;  you 


Scene  II]  As  You  Like  It  87 

are  rather  point-device  in  your  accoutrements,  as  lov- 
ing yourself  than  seeming  the  lover  of  any  other. 

Orlafido.  Fair  youth,  I  would  I  could  make  thee 
believe  I  love. 

Rosalind.  Me  beUeve  it !  you  may  as  soon  make  380 
her  that  you  love  beheve  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  He  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?  39© 

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  mad- 
men 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  400 
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,  change- 
able, longing  and  liking,  proud,  fantastical,  apish,  shal- 


88  As  You   Like  It  [Act  iii 

low,  inconstant,  full  of  tears,  full  of  smiles,  for  every 
passion  something  and  for  no  passion  truly  any  thing, 
as  boys  and  women  are  for  the  most  part  cattle  of  this 
colour;  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  410 
humour  of  love  to  a  living  humour  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  't. 

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  420 
me  where  it  is. 

Rosalind.  Go  with  me  to  it  and  I  '11  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. 

Scene  III.     The  Forest 

Enter  Touchstone  and  Audrey  ;  Jaques  behind 

Totichstone.  Come  apace,  good  Audrey;  I  will 
fetch   up   your   goats,  Audrey,      And    how,  Audrey? 


Scene  III]  As  You  Like  It  89 

am  I  the  man  yet?   doth  my  simple  feature  content 
you? 

Audrey.  Your  features !  Lord  warrant  us !  what 
features  ? 

Touchstone.  I  am  here  with  thee  and  thy  goats,  as 
the  most  capricious  poet,  honest  Ovid,  was  among  the 
Goths. 

Jaques.  \^Aside\    O   knowledge  ill-inhabited,  worse  10 
than  Jove  in  a  thatched  house  ! 

Touchstone.   When  a  man's  verses  cannot  be  under- 
stood, nor  a  man's  good  wit  seconded  with  the  forward 
child  Understanding,  it  strikes  a  man  more  dead  than    ' 
a  great  reckoning  in  a  httle  room.     Truly,  I  would  the 
gods  had  made  thee  poetical. 

Audrey.  I  do  not  know  what  poetical  is ;  is  it  hon- 
est in  deed  and  word  ?  is  it  a  true  thing  ? 

Touchstone.    No,  truly,  for  the  truest  poetry  is  the 
most  feigning;  and  lovers  are  given  to  poetry,  and 20 
what  they  swear  in  poetry  may  be  said  as  lovers  they 
do  feign. 

Audrey.  Do  you  wish  then  that  the  gods  had  made 
me  poetical? 

Touchstone.  I  do,  truly,  for  thou  swear'st  to  me  thou 
art  honest ;  now,  if  thou  wert  a  poet,  I  might  have 
some  hope  thou  didst  feign. 

Audrey.   Would  you  not  have  me  honest? 

Touchstone.    No,    truly,    unless    thou    wert    hard- 
favoured  ;    for  honesty  coupled  to  beauty  is  to  have  T)'^ 
honey  a  sauce  to  sugar. 


90  As  You  Like  It  [Act  in 

Jaques.    \_Aside\  A  material  fool ! 

Audrey.  Well,  I  am  not  fair ;  and  therefore  I  pray 
the  gods  make  me  honest ! 

Touchstotie.  Truly,  and  to  cast  away  honesty  upon 
a  foul  slut  were  to  put  good  meat  into  an  unclean 
dish. 

Audrey.  I  am  not  a  slut,  though  I  thank  the  gods  I 
am  foul. 

Touchstone.  Well,  praised  be  the  gods  for  thy  foul-  40 
ness  !  sluttishness  may  come  hereafter.  But  be  it  as 
it  may  be,  I  will  marry  thee,  and  to  that  end  I  have 
been  with  Sir  Oliver  Martext,  the  vicar  of  the  next  vil- 
lage, who  hath  promised  to  meet  me  in  this  place  of 
the  forest  and  to  couple  us. 

Jaques.    \_Aside'\   I  would  fain  see  this  meeting. 

Audrey.   Well,  the  gods  give  us  joy  ! 

Touchstone.  Amen  !  A  man  may,  if  he  were  of  a 
fearful  heart,  stagger  in  this  attempt ;  for  here  we  have 
no  temple  but  the  wood,  no  assembly  but  horn-beasts.  50 
But  what  though  ?  Courage  !  As  horns  are  odious, 
they  are  necessary.  It  is  said,  '  many  a  man  knows  no 
end  of  his  goods  : '  right !  many  a  man  has  good  horns, 
and  knows  no  end  of  them.  Well,  that  is  the  dowry  of 
his  wife ;  't  is  none  of  his  own  getting.  Are  horns 
given  to  poor  men  alone  ?  No,  no  ;  the  noblest  deer 
hath  them  as  huge  as  the  rascal.  Is  the  single  man 
therefore  blessed?  No;  as  a  walled  town  is  more 
worthier  than  a  village,  so  is  the  forehead  of  a  married 
man  more  honourable  than  the  bare  brow  of  a  bach-  60 


Scene  III]  As  You  Like  It  91 

elor ;  and  by  how  much  defence  is  better  than  no  skill, 
by  so  much  is  a  horn  more  precious  than  to  want. 
Here  comes  Sir  Oliver.  — 

Enter  Sir  Oliver  Martext 

Sir  Oliver  Martext,  you  are  well  met  \  will  you  dispatch 
us  here  under  this  tree,  or  shall  we  go  with  you  to  your 
chapel  ? 

Sir  Oliver.    Is  there  none  here  to  give  the  woman? 

Touchstone.    I  will  not  take  her  on  gift  of  any  man. 

Sir  Oliver.  Truly,  she  must  be  given,  or  the  mar- 
riage is  not  lawful.  70 

Jaques.  \_Advancing]  Proceed,  proceed ;  I  '11  give 
her. 

Touchstone.  Good  even,  good  Master  What-ye- 
call-'t ;  how  do  you,  sir  ?  You  are  very  well  met ; 
God  'ield  you  for  your  last  company  !  I  am  very  glad 
to  see  you  ;  —  even  a  toy  in  hand  here,  sir ;  —  nay, 
pray  be  covered. 

Jaques.   Will  you  be  married,  motley  ? 
Touchstone.   As  the  ox  hath  his  bow,  sir,  the  horse 
his  curb,  and  the  falcon  her  bells,   so  man  hath  his  80 
desires ;  and  as  pigeons  bill,  so  wedlock  would   be 
nibbling. 

Jaques.  And  will  you,  being  a  man  of  your  breed- 
ing, be  married  under  a  bush  like  a  beggar?  Get 
you  to  church,  and  have  a  good  priest  that  can  tell 
you  what  marriage  is.  This  fellow  will  but  join  you 
together  as  they  join  wainscot ;  then  one  of  you  will 


92  As  You   Like  It  [Act  iii 

prove  a  shrunk  panel  and,  like   green  timber,  warp, 
warp. 

Touchstone.    \^Aside\  I  am  not  in  the  mind  but  I  90 
were  better  to  be  married  of  him  than  of  another  ;  for 
he  is  not  like  to  marry  me  well,  and  not  being  well 
married,  it  will  be  a  good  excuse  for  me  hereafter  to 
leave  my  wife. 
Jaques.    Go  thou  with  me,  and  let  me  counsel  thee. 
Touchstone.    Come,  sweet  Audrey.  — 
Farewell,  good  Master  Oliver ;  not  — 
'  O  sweet  Oliver, 
O  brave  Oliver, 
Leave  me  not  behind  thee  :  '  100 

but  — 

'  Wind  away, 
Begone,  I  say, 
I  will  not  to  wedding  with  thee.^ 
\_Exeimt  Jaques,  Touchsto7te,  and  Audi^ey. 
Sir  Oliver.    'T   is   no    matter ;    ne'er   a  fantastical 
knave  of  them  all  shall  flout  me  out  of  my  calHng. 

\_Exit. 

Scene  IV.     The  Forest.     Before  a  Cottage 

Enter  Rosalind  and  Celia 

Rosalind.    Never  talk  to  me  ;  I  will  weep. 
Celia.    Do,  I  prithee ;  but  yet  have  the  grace   to 
consider  that  tears  do  not  become  a  man. 
Rosalind.    But  have  I  not  cause  to  weep? 


Scene  IV]  As  You   Like  It  93 

Celia.  As  good  cause  as  one  would  desire ;  there- 
fore weep. 

Rosalind.  His  very  hair  is  of  the  dissembhng 
colour. 

Celia.  Something  browner  than  Judas's  ;  marry,  his 
kisses  are  Judas's  own  children.  10 

Rosalind.    V  faith,  his  hair  is  of  a  good  colour. 

Celia.  An  excellent  colour  ;  your  chestnut  was  ever 
the  only  colour. 

Rosalind.  And  his  kissing  is  as  full  of  sanctity  as 
the  touch  of  holy  bread. 

Celia.  He  hath  bought  a  pair  of  cast  lips  of  Diana  ; 
a  nun  of  winter's  sisterhood  kisses  not  more  reli- 
giously ;    the  very  ice  of  chastity  is  in  them. 

Rosalind.  But  why  did  he  swear  he  would  come 
this  morning,  and  comes  not?  20 

Celia.   Nay,  certainly,  there  is  no  truth  in  him. 

Rosalind.    Do  you  think  so? 

Celia.  Yes.  I  think  he  is  not  a  pick-purse  nor  a 
horse- stealer ;  but  for  his  verity  in  love,  I  do  think  him 
as  concave  as  a  covered  goblet  or  a  worm-eaten  nut. 

Rosalind.     Not  true  in  love  ? 

Celia.     Yes,  when  he  is  in  ;  but  I  think  he  is  not  in. 

Rosalind.  You  have  heard  him  swear  downright  he 
was. 

Celia.     Was  is  not  is ;  besides,  the  oath  of  a  lover  30 
is  no  stronger  than  the  word  of  a  tapster ;  they  are 
both  the  confirmer  of  false  reckonings.     He  attends 
here  in  the  forest  on  the  duke  your  father. 


94  As  You  Like  It  [Act  iii 

Rosalind.  I  met  the  duke  yesterday  and  had  much 
question  with  him.  He  asked  me  of  what  parentage 
I  was;  I  told  him,  of  as  good  as  he,  so  he  laughed 
and  let  me  go.  But  what  talk  we  of  fathers,  when 
there  is  such  a  man  as  Orlando? 

Celia.  O,  that 's  a  brave  man  !  he  writes  brave 
verses,  speaks  brave  words,  swears  brave  oaths,  and  40 
breaks  them  bravely,  quite  traverse,  athwart  the  heart 
of  his  lover;  as  a  puisny  tilter,  that  spurs  his  horse 
but  on  one  side,  breaks  his  staff  like  a  noble  goose. 
But  all 's  brave  that  youth  mounts  and  folly  guides.  — 
Who  comes  here? 

Enter  Corin 

Corin.     Mistress  and  master,  you  have  oft  inquir'd 
After  the  shepherd  that  complain'd  of  love, 
Who  you  saw  sitting  by  me  on  the  turf. 
Praising  the  proud  disdainful  shepherdess 
That  was  his  mistress. 

Celia.  Well,  and  what  of  him  ?  50 

Corin.     If  you  will  see  a  pageant  truly  play'd, 
Between  the  pale  complexion  of  true  love 
And  the  red  glow  of  scorn  and  proud  disdain. 
Go  hence  a  little  and  I  shall  conduct  you, 
If  you  will  mark  it. 

Rosalind.  O,  come,  let  us  remove  ; 

The  sight  of  lovers  feedeth  those  in  love.  — 
Bring  us  to  see  this  sight,  and  you  shall  say 
I  '11  prove  a  busy  actor  in  their  play.  \_Exeunt, 


Scene  vj  As  You   Like  It  95 

Scene  V.     Another  Part  of  the  Forest 

Enter  Silvius  and  Phebe 

Silvias,   Sweet  Phebe,  do  not  scorn  me,  do  not,  Phebe  ; 
Say  that  you  love  me  not,  but  say  not  so 
In  bitterness.     The  common  executioner. 
Whose  heart  the  accustom'd  sight  of  death  makes  hard. 
Falls  not  the  axe  upon  the  humbled  neck 
But  first  begs  pardon ;  will  you  sterner  be 
Than  he  that  dies  and  lives  by  bloody  drops  ? 

Enter  Rosalind,  Celia,  and  Corin*  behind 

Phebe.    I  would  not  be  thy  executioner ; 
I  fly  thee,  for  I  would  not  injure  thee. 
Thou  tell'st  me  there  is  murther  in  mine  eye ;  10 

'T  is  pretty,  sure,  and  very  probable. 
That  eyes,  that  are  the  frail'st  and  softest  things, 
Who  shut  their  coward  gates  on  atomies, 
Should  be  call'd  tyrants,  butchers,  murtherers  ! 
Now  I  do  frown  on  thee  with  all  my  heart ; 
And  if  mine  eyes  can  wound,  now  let  them  kill  thee. 
Now  counterfeit  to  swoon ;  why,  now  fall  down  ; 
Or  if  thou  canst  not,  O,  for  shame,  for  shame. 
Lie  not,  to  say  mine  eyes  are  murtherers  ! 
Now  show  the  wound  mine  eye  hath  made  in  thee.        20 
Scratch  thee  but  with  a  pin,  and  there  remains 
Some  scar  of  it ;  lean  but  upon  a  rush, 
The  cicatrice  and  capable  impressure 


96  As  You  Like   It  [Act  iii 

Thy  palm  some  moment  keeps ;  but  now  mine  eyes, 
Which  I  have  darted  at  thee,  hurt  thee  not, 
Nor,  I  am  sure,  there  is  no  force  in  eyes 
That  can  do  hurt. 

Silviics.  O  dear  Phebe, 

If  ever  —  as  that  ever  may  be  near  — 
You  meet  in  some  fresh  cheek  the  power  of  fancy, 
Then  shall  you  know  the  wounds  invisible  30 

That  love's  keen  arrows  make. 

Phebe.  But  till  that  time 

Come  not  thou  near  me ;  and  when  that  time  comes. 
Afflict  me  with  thy  mocks,  pity  me  not. 
As  till  that  time  I  shall  not  pity  thee. 

Rosalind.     \_Advancing\  And  why,  I  pray  you?     Who 
might  be  your  mother, 
That  you  insult,  exult,  and  all  at  once. 
Over  the  wretched  ?   What  though  you  have  no  beauty,  — 
As,  by  my  faith,  I  see  no  more  in  you 
Than  without  candle  may  go  dark  to  bed,  — 
Must  you  be  therefore  proud  and  pitiless  ?  40 

Why,  what  means  this?     Why  do  you  look  on  me? 
I  see  no  more  in  you  than  in  the  ordinary 
Of  nature's  sale-work.  —  'Od's  my  little  Hfe, 
I  think  she  means  to  tangle  my  eyes  too  !  — 
No,, faith,  proud  mistress,  hope  not  after  it ; 
'T  is  not  your  inky  brows,  your  black  silk  hair. 
Your  bugle  eyeballs,  nor  your  cheek  of  cream, 
That  can  entarae  my  spirits  to  your  worship. — 
You  foolish  shepherd,  wherefore  do  you  follow  her, 


Scene  V]  As  You  Like  It  97 

Like  foggy  south  puffing  with  wind  and  rain  ?  50 

You  are  a  thousand  times  a  properer  man 

Than  she  a  woman ;  't  is  such  fools  as  you 

That  makes  the  world  full  of  ill-favour'd  children. 

'T  is  not  her  glass,  but  you,  that  flatters  her ; 

And  out  of  you  she  sees  herself  more  proper 

Than  any  of  her  lineaments  can  show  her.  — 

But,  mistress,  know  yourself;  down  on  your  knees, 

And  thank  heaven,  fasting,  for  a  good  man's  love, 

For  I  must  tell  you  friendly  in  your  ear. 

Sell  when  you  can,  you  are  not  for  all  markets.  60 

Cry  the  man  mercy,  love  him,  take  his  offer ; 

Foul  is  most  foul,  being  foul  to  be  a  scoffer.  — 

So  take  her  to  thee,  shepherd ;  fare  you  well. 

Phebe.    Sweet  youth,  I  pray  you,  chide  a  year  to- 
gether ; 
I  had  rather  hear  you  chide  than  this  man  woo. 

Rosalind.  He  's  fallen  in  love  with  your  /oulness, 
and  she  '11  fall  in  love  with  my  anger.  —  If  it  be  soj  as 
fest  as  she  answers  thee  with  frowning  looks,  I  '11  sauce 
her  with  bitter  words.  —  Why  look  you  so  upon  me  ? 

Phebe.   For  no  ill  will  I  bear  you.  70 

Rosalind.    I  pray  you,  do  not  fall  in  love  with  me. 
For  I  am  falser  than  vows  made  in  wine ; 
Besides,  I  like  you  not.  —  If  you  will  know  my  house, 
'T  is  at  the  tuft  of  olives  here  hard  by.  — 
Will  you  go,  sister?  —  Shepherd,  ply  her  hard.  — 
Come,  sister.  —  Shepherdess,  look  on  him  better. 
And  be  not  proud ;  though  all  the  world  could  see, 

AS   YOU   LIKE    IT — 7 


98  As  You  Like  It  [Act  iii 

None  could  be  so  abus'd  in  sight  as  he.  — 
Come,  to  our  flock. 

\_Exeunt  Rosalind,  Celia,  and  Corin. 

Phebe.    Dead  shepherd,  now  I  find  thy  saw  of  might,  80 
*  Who  ever  lov'd  that  lov'd  not  at  first  sight  ? ' 

Silvius.   Sweet  Phebe, — 

Phebe.  Ha  !  what  say'st  thou,  Silvius  ? 

Silvius.   Sweet  Phebe,  pity  me. 

Phebe.   Why,  I  am  sorry  for  thee,  gentle  Silvius. 

Silvius.   Wherever  sorrow  is,  relief  would  be  ; 
If  you  do  sorrow  at  my  grief  in  love. 
By  giving  love  your  sorrow  and  my  grief 
Were  both  extermin'd. 

Phebe.    Thou  hast  my  love;  is  not  that  neighbourly? 

Silvius.    I  would  have  you. 

Phebe.  Why,  that  were  covetousness.  90 

Silvius,  the  time  was  that  I  hated  thee. 
And  yet  it  is  not  that  I  bear  thee  love ; 
But  since  that  thou  canst  talk  of  love  so  well. 
Thy  company,  which  erst  was  irksome  to  me, 
I  will  endure,  and  I  '11  employ  thee  too. 
But  do  not  look  for  further  recompense 
Than  thine  own  gladness  that  thou  art  employ'd. 

Silvius.   So  holy  and  so  perfect  is  my  love. 
And  I  in  such  a  poverty  of  grace, 

That  I  shall  think  it  a  most  plenteous  crop  100 

To  glean  the  broken  ears  after  the  man 
That  the  main  harvest  reaps  ;  loose  now  and  then 
A  scatter' d  smile,  and  that  I  '11  live  upon. 


Scene  V]  As  You   Like  It  99 

Phebe.   Know'st  thou  the  youth  that  spoke  to  me  ere- 
while  ? 

Silvius.   Not  very  well,  but  I  have  met  him  oft  j 
And  he  hath  bought  the  cottage  and  the  bounds 
That  the  old  carlot  once  was  master  of. 

Phebe.    Think  not  I  love  him,  though  I  ask  for  him. 
'T  is  but  a  peevish  boy ;  yet  he  talks  well. 
But  what  care  I  for  words?  yet  words  do  well  no 

^When  he  that  speaks  them  pleases  those  that  hear. 
It  is  a  pretty  youth  —  not  very  pretty ; 
But,  sure,  he  's  proud,  and  yet  his  pride  becomes  him. 
He  '11  make  a  proper  man ;  the  best  thing  in  him 
Is  his  complexion ;  and  faster  than  his  tongue 
Did  make  offence  his  eye  did  heal  it  up. 
He  is  not  very  tall ;  yet  for  his  years  he  's  tall. 
His  leg  is  but  so-so ;  and  yet  't  is  well. 
There  was  a  pretty  redness  in  his  lip, 
A  little  riper  and  more  lusty  red  120 

Than  that  mix'd  in  his  cheek;  't  was  just  the  difference 
Betwixt  the  constant  red  and  mingled  damask. 
There  be  some  women,  Silvius,  had  they  mark'd  him 
In  parcels  as  I  did,  would  have  gone  near 
To  fall  in  love  with  him ;  but,  for  my  part, 
I  love  him  not  nor  hate  him  not,  and  yet 
I  have  more  cause  to  hate  him  than  to  love  him ; 
For  what  had  he  to  do  to  chide  at  me  ? 
He  said  mine  eyes  were  black  and  my  hair  black, 
And,  now  I  am  remember'd,  scorn'd  at  me.  130 

I  marvel  why  I  answer' d  not  again ; 

LofC.^ 


lOO  As  You   Like  It  [Act  iii 

But  that 's  all  one,  omittance  is  no  quittance. 
I  '11  write  to  him  a  very  taunting  letter, 
And  thou  shalt  bear  it ;  wilt  thou,  Silvius  ? 

Silvius.    Phebe,  with  all  my  heart. 

Phebe.  I  '11  write  it  straight ; 

The  matter 's  in  my  head  and  in  my  heart. 
I  will  be  bitter  with  him  and  passing  short. 
Go  with  me,  Silvius.  \_Exeunt. 


"Be  of  Good  Cheer,  Youth" 


ACT   IV 


Scene  I.     The  Forest 


Enter  Rosalind,  Celia,  and  Jaques 

Jaques.    I  prithee,  pretty  youth,  let  me  be  better 
acquainted  with  thee. 

Rosalind.   They  say  you  are  a  melancholy  fellow. 
Jaques.   I  am  so ;  I  do  love  it  better  than  laughing. 

lOI 


I02  As  You  Like  It  [Act  iv 

Rosalind.  Those  that  are  in  extremity  of  either  are 
abominable  fellows,  and  betray  themselves  to  every 
modern  censure  worse  than  drunkards. 

Jaques,   Why,  't  is  good  to  be  sad  and  say  nothing. 

Rosalind.   Why  then,  't  is  good  to  be  a  post. 

Jaques.  I  have  neither  the  scholar's  melancholy,  lo 
which  is  emulation ;  nor  the  musician's,  which  is  fan- 
tastical ;  nor  the  courtier's,  which  is  proud ;  nor  the 
soldier's,  which  is  ambitious ;  nor  the  lawyer's,  which 
is  politic ;  nor  the  lady's,  which  is  nice ;  nor  the  lover's, 
which  is  all  these ;  but  it  is  a  melancholy  of  mine  own, 
compounded  of  many  simples,  extracted  from  many  ob- 
jects, and  indeed  the  sundry  contemplation  of  my  trav- 
els, in  which  my  often  rumination  wraps  me  in  a  most 
humorous  sadness. 

Rosalind.   A  traveller !     By  my  faith,  you  have  great  20 
reason  to  be  sad.     I  fear  you  have  sold  your  own  lands 
to  see  other  men's ;  then,  to  have  seen  much  and  to 
have  nothing  is  to  have  rich  eyes  and  poor  hands. 

Jaques.   Yes,  I  have  gained  my  experience. 

Rosalind.  And  your  experience  makes  you  sad  !  I 
had  rather  have  a  fool  to  make  me  merry  than  experi- 
ence to  make  me  sad ;  and  to  travel  for  it  too  ! 

Enter  Orlando 

Orlando.  Good  day  and  happiness,  dear  Rosalind  ! 

Jaques.   Nay,  then  God  be  wi'  you,  an  you  talk  in 

blank  verse.  \_Exit.  30 

Rosalind.  Farewell,  Monsieur  Traveller.     Look  you 


Scene  I]  As  You   Like  It  103 

lisp  and  wear  strange  suits,  disable  all  the  benefits  of 
your  own  country,  be  out  of  love  with  your  nativity, 
and  almost  chide  God  for  making  you  that  countenance 
you  are,  or  I  will  scarce  think  you  have  swam  in  a 
gondola.  —  Why,  how  now,  Orlando  !  where  have  you 
been  all  this  while  ?  You  a  lover  !  An  you  serve  me 
such  another  trick,  never  come  in  my  sight  more. 

Orlando.  My  fair  Rosalind,  I  come  within  an  hour 
of  my  promise.  40 

Rosalind.  Break  an  hour's  promise  in  love  !  He 
that  will  divide  a  minute  into  a  thousand  parts,  and 
break  but  a  part  of  the  thousandth  part  of  a  minute 
in  the  affairs  of  love,  it  may  be  said  of  him  that  Cupid 
hath  clapped  him  o'  the  shoulder,  but  I  '11  warrant  him 
heart-whole. 

Orlando.   Pardon  me,  dear  Rosalind. 

Rosalind.  Nay,  an  you  be  so  tardy,  come  no  more 
in  my  sight  \  I  had  as  lief  be  wooed  of  a  snail. 

Orlando.   Of  a  snail?  50 

Rosalind.  Ay,  of  a  snail;  for  though  he  comes 
slowly,  he  carries  his  house  on  his  head,  —  a  better 
jointure,  I  think,  than  you  can  make  a  woman ;  besides, 
he  brings  his  destiny  with  him. 

Orlando.  What 's  that  ? 

Rosalind.  Why,  horns,  which  such  as  you  are  fain 
to  be  beholding  to  your  wives  for ;  but  he  comes  armed 
in  his  fortune  and  prevents  the  slander  of  his  wife. 

Orlando.  Virtue  is  no  horn-maker,  and  my  Rosalind 
is  virtuous.  60 


I04  As  You   Like  It  [Act  iv 

Rosalind.   And  I  am  your  Rosalind. 

Celia.  It  pleases  him  to  call  you  so,  but  he  hath  a 
Rosalind  of  a  better  leer  than  you. 

Rosalind.  Come,  woo  me,  woo  me,  for  now  I  am  in 
a  holiday  humour  and  like  enough  to  consent.  What 
would  you  say  to  me  now,  an  I  were  your  very  very 
Rosalind  ? 

Orlando.    I  would  kiss  before  I  spoke. 

Rosalind.    Nay,  you  were   better  speak   first,    and 
when  you  were  gravelled  for  lack  of  matter  you  might  70 
take  occasion  to  kiss.     Very  good  orators,  when  they 
are  out,  they  will  spit;  and  for  lovers  lacking — God 
warn  us  !  —  matter,  the  cleanliest  shift  is  to  kiss. 

Orlando.    How  if  the  kiss  be  denied  ? 

Rosalind.  Then  she  puts  you  to  entreaty,  and  there 
begins  new  matter. 

Orlando.  Who  could  be  out^  being  before  his 
beloved  mistress? 

Rosalind.   Marry,  that  should  you,  if  I  were  your 
mistress,  or  I  should  think  my  honesty  ranker   than  80 
my  wit. 

Orlando.   What,  of  my  suit? 

Rosalind.  Not  out  of  your  apparel,  and  yet  out  of 
your  suit.     Am  not  I  your  Rosalind? 

Orlando.  I  take  some  joy  to  say  you  are,  because  I 
would  be  talking  of  her. 

Rosalind.  Well,  in  her  person  I  say  I  will  not  have 
you. 

Orlando.   Then  in  mine  own  person  I  die. 


Scene  I]  As   You    Like   It  105 

Rosalind.  No,  faith,  die  by  attorney.  The  poor  90 
world  is  ahnost  six  thousand  years  old,  and  in  all  this 
time  there  was  not  any  man  died  in  his  own  person, 
videlicet,  in  a  love-cause.  Troilus  had  his  brains 
dashed  out  with  a  Grecian  club ;  yet  he  did  what  he 
could  to  die  before,  and  he  is  one  of  the  patterns  of 
love.  Leander,  he  would  have  lived  many  a  fair  year, 
though  Hero  had  turned  nun,  if  it  had  not  been  for  a 
hot  midsummer  night ;  for,  good  youth,  he  went  but 
forth  to  wash  hita  in  the  Hellespont,  and  being  taken 
with  the  cramp  was  drowned,  and  the  foolish  chroni- 100 
clers  of  that  age  found  it  was  —  Hero  of  Sestos.  But 
these  are  all  lies ;  men  have  died  from  time  to  time 
and  worms  have  eaten  them,  but  not  for  love. 

Orlando.  I  would  not  have  my  right  Rosalind  of 
this  mind,  for,  I  protest,  her  frown  might  kill  me. 

Rosalind.  By  this  hand,  it  will  not  kill  a  fly.  But 
come,  now  I  will  be  your  Rosahnd  in  a  more  coming- 
on  disposition,  and  ask  me  what  you  will,  I  will  grant 
it. 

Orlando.   Then  love  me,  Rosalind.  no 

Rosalind.  Yes,  faith,  will  I,  Fridays  and  Saturdays 
and  all. 

Orlando.   And  wilt  thou  have  me  ? 

Rosalind.   Ay,  and  twenty  such. 

Orlando.    What  sayest  thou? 

Rosalind.    Are  you  not  good? 

Orlando.    I  hope  so. 

Rosalind.   Why  then,  can  one  desire  too  much  of  a 


io6  As  You  Like  It  [Act  iv 

good  thing?  —  Come,  sister,  you  shall  be  the  priest  and 
marry  us.  —  Give   me   your    hand,   Orlando.  —  What  120 
do  you  say,  sister? 

Orlando.    Pray  thee,  marry  us. 

Celia.    I  cannot  say  the  words. 

Rosalind.    You  must  begin,  '  Will  you,  Orlando  — ' 

Celia.  Go  to.  —  Will  you,  Orlando,  have  to  wife 
this  Rosalind? 

Orlando.    I  will. 

Rosalind.   Ay,  but  when? 

Orlando.   Why  now ;  as  fast  as  she  can  marry  us. 

Rosalind.   Then  you  must  say,  ^  I  take  thee,  Rosa- 130 
lind,  for  wife.' 

Orlando.   I  take  thee,  Rosalind,  for  wife. 

Rosalind.  I  might  ask  you  for  your  commission, 
but  I  do  take  thee,  Orlando,  for  my  husband.  There  's 
a  girl  goes  before  the  priest,  and  certainly  a  woman's 
thought  runs  before  her  actions. 

Orlando.    So  do  all  thoughts  ;  they  are  winged. 

Rosalind.  Now  tell  me  how  long  you  would  have 
her  after  you  have  possessed  her. 

Orlando.    For  ever  and  a  day.  140 

Rosalind.  Say  a  day,  without  the  ever.  No,  no, 
Orlando  :  men  are  April  when  they  woo,  December 
when  they  wed  ;( maids  are  May  when  they  are  maids, 
but  the  sky  changes  when  they  are  wives.  I  will  be 
more  jealous  of  thee  than  a  Barbary  cock-pigeon  over 
his  hen,  more  clamorous  than  a  parrot  against  rain, 
more   new-fangled   than  an   ape,  more  giddy  in  my 


Scene  I]  As  You  Like  It  107 

desires   than   a   monkey.     I  will  weep   for   nothing, 
like  Diana  in  the  fountain,  and  I  will  do  that  when 
you  are  disposed  to  be  merry;    I  will  laugh  like   a  150 
hyen,  and  that  when  thou  art  inclined  to  sleep. 

Orlando.   But  will  my  Rosalind  do  so  ? 

Rosalind.   By  my  life,  she  will  do  as  I  do. 

Orlando.   Q.  but  she  is  wise. 

Rosalind.  Or  else  she  could  not  have  the  wit  to  do 
this ;  the  wiser,  the  waywarder/'  Make  the  doors  upon 
a  woman's  wit,  and  it  will  out  at  the  casement ;  shut 
that,  and  't  will  out  at  the  key-hole ;  stop  that,  't  will 
fly  with  the  smoke  out  at  the  chimney. 

Orlando.    A  man  that  had  a  wife  with  such  a  wit,  160 
he  might  say,  *  Wit,  whither  wilt  ?  * 

Rosalind.  Nay,  you  might  keep  that  check  for  it 
till  you  met  your  wife's  wit  going  to  your  neighbour's 
bed. 

Orlando.  And  what  wit  could  wit  have  to  excuse 
that? 

Rosalind.  Marry,  to  say  she  came  to  seek  you 
there.  You  shall  never  take  her  without  her  answer, 
unless  you  take  her  without  her  tongue.  O,  that 
woman  that  cannot  make  her  fault  her  husband's  170 
occasion,  let  her  never  nurse  her  child  herself,  for 
she  will  breed  it  like  a  fool ! 

Orlando.  For  these  two  hours,  Rosalind,  I  will 
leave  thee. 

Rosalind.  Alas  !  dear  love,  I  cannot  lack  thee  two 
hours. 


io8  As  You  Like  It  [Act  iv 

Orlando.  I  must  attend  the  duke  at  dinner ;  by 
two  o'clock  I  will  be  with  thee  again. 

Rosalind.    Ay,  go  your  ways,  go  your  ways,  I  knew 
what  you  would  prove ;  my  friends  told  me  as  much,  i8o 
and  I  thought  no  less.    That  flattering  tongue  of  yours 
won  me  ;  't  is  but  one  cast  away,  and  so,  come,  death  ! 
—  Two  o'clock  is  your  hour  ? 

Orlando.   Ay,  sweet  Rosalind. 

Rosalind.  By  my  troth,  and  in  good  earnest,  and  so 
God  mend  me,  and  by  all  pretty  oaths  that  are  not  dan- 
gerous, if  you  break  one  jot  of  your  promise  or  come 
one  minute  behind  your  hour,  I  will  think  you  the  most 
pathetical  break-promise,  and  the  most  hollow  lover, 
and  the  most  unworthy  of  her  you  call  Rosalind,  that  190 
may  be  chosen  out  of  the  gross  band  of  the  unfaithful ; 
therefore  beware  my  censure  and  keep  your  promise. 

Of^lando.  With  no  less  rehgion  than  if  thou  wert  in- 
deed my  Rosalind ;  so  adieu. 

Rosalind.  Well,  Time  is  the  old  justice  that  examines 
all  such  offenders,  and  let  Time  try ;  adieu. 

\_Exit  Orlando. 

Celia.  You  have  simply  misused  our  sex  in  your  love- 
prate  j  we  must  have  your  doublet  and  hose  plucked 
over  your  head,  and  show  the  world  what  the  bird  hath 
done  to  her  own  nest.  200 

Rosalind.  O  coz,  coz,  coz,  my  pretty  little  coz,  that 
thou  didst  know  how  many  fathom  deep  I  am  in  love  ! 
But  it  cannot  be  sounded ;  my  affection  hath  an  un- 
known bottom,  like  the  bay  of  Portugal. 


Scene  II]  As  You   Like  It  109 

Celia,  Or  rather,  bottomless,  that  as  fast  as  you  pour 
affection  in,  it  runs  out. 

Rosalind.  No,  that  same  wicked  bastard  of  Venus 
that  was  begot  of  thought,  conceived  of  spleen,  and  born 
of  madness,  that  blind  rascally  boy  that  abuses  every 
one's  eyes  because  his  own  are  out,  let  him  be  judge  2jo 
how  deep  I  am  in  love.  I  '11  tell  thee,  AHena,  I  cannot 
be  out  of  the  sight  of  Orlando ;  I  '11  go  find  a  shadow, 
and  sigh  till  he  come. 

Celia.  And  I  '11  sleep.  \_Exeunt. 

Scene  II.     The  Forest 
Enter  Jaques,  Lords,  and  Foresters 

Jaques.  Which  is  he  that  killed  the  deer  ? 

A  Lord.    Sir,  it  was  I. 

Jaques.  Let 's  present  him  to  the  duke,  like  a  Roman 
conqueror,  and  it  would  do  well  to  set  the  deer's  horns 
upon  his  head,  for  a  branch  of  victory.  Have  you  no 
song,  forester,  for  this  purpose? 

Forester.   Yes,  sir. 

Jaques.  Sing  it ;  't  is  no  matter  how  it  be  in  tune, 
so  it  make  noise  enough. 

SONG 

Forester.    What  shall  he  have  that  kilV d  the  deer  ?      10 
His  leather  skin  and  horns  to  wear. 
Then  sing  him  home. 

[The  rest  shall  bear  this  burthen. 


\ 


no  As  You  Like  It  [Act  iv 

Take  thou  no  scorn  to  wear  the  horn  ; 
It  was  a  C7'est  ere  thou  wast  born  ; 
Thy  father'' s  father  wore  it f 
And  thy  father  bore  it. 
The  horn,  the  horn,  the  lusty  horn 
Is  not  a  thing  to  laugh  to  scorn.      [Exeunt. 

Scene  III.     The  Forest 
Enter  Rosalind  and  Celia 

Rosalind.  How  say  you  now?  Is  it  not  past  two 
o'clock?  and  here  much  Orlando  ! 

Celia.  I  warrant  you,  with  pure  love  and  troubled 
brain  he  hath  ta'en  his  bow  and  arrows  and  is  gone 
forth  —  to  sleep.     Look,  who  comes  here. 

Enter  Silvius 
Silvius.   My  errand  is  to  you,  fair  youth ; 

My  gentle  Phebe  bid  me  give  you  this. 

I  know  not  the  contents ;  but,  as  I  guess 

By  the  stern  brow  and  waspish  action 

Which  she  did  use  as  she  was  writing  of  it,  lo 

It  bears  an  angry  tenour.     Pardon  me, 

I  am  but  as  a  guiltless  messenger. 

Rosalind.   Patience  herself  would  startle  at  this  letter 

And  play  the  swaggerer ;  bear  this,  bear  all. 

She  says  I  am  not  fair,  that  I  lack  manners ; 

She  calls  me  proud,  and  that  she  could  not  love  me, 

Were  man  as  rare  as  phoenix.     'Od's  my  will ! 

Her  love  is  not  the  hare  that  I  do  hunt ; 


Scene  III]  As  You   Like   It  ill 

Why  writes  she  so  to  me?  —  Well,  shepherd,  well, 

This  is  a  letter  of  your  own  device.  20 

Silvius.   No,  I  protest,  I  know  not  the  contents ; 
Phebe  did  write  it. 

Rosalind.  Come,  come,  you  are  a  fool, 

And  turn'd  into  the  extremity  of  love. 
I  saw  her  hand ;  she  has  a  leathern  hand, 
A  freestone- colour'd  hand.     I  verily  did  think 
That  her  old  gloves  were  on,  but  't  was  her  hands. 
She  has  a  huswife's  hand  ;  but  that 's  no  matter. 
I  say  she  never  did  invent  this  letter ; 
This  is  a  man's  invention  and  his  hand. 

Silvius.   Sure,  it  is  hers.  30 

Rosalind.   Why,  't  is  a  boisterous  and  a  cruel  style, 
A  style  for  challengers ;  why,  she  defies  me. 
Like  Turk  to  Christian.     Woman's  gentle  brain 
Could  not  drop  forth  such  giant-rude  invention, 
Such  Ethiope  words,  blacker  in  their  effect 
Than  in  their  countenance.     Will  you  hear  the  letter? 

Silvius.   So  please  you,  for  I  never  heard  it  yet, 
Yet  heard  too  much  of  Phebe's  cruelty. 

Rosalind.    She  Phebes  me  ;  mark  how  the  tyrant  writes. 

[Reads]    Art  thou  god  to  shepherd  ticrn^d,  40 

That  a  maiden^ s  heart  hath  burn'd?  — 
Can  a  woman  rail  thus  ? 

Silvius.    Call  you  this  railing? 

Rosalind.    [Reads] 

Why,  thy  godhead  laid  apart, 

Warr'st  thou  with  a  woman's  heart?  — 


112  As  You  Like  It  [Act  iv 

Did  you  ever  hear  such  railing?  — 

Whiles  the  eye  of  man  did  woo  me, 
That  could  do  no  vengeance  to  me.  — 
Meaning  me  a  beast.  — 

If  the  scorn  of  your  bright  eyne  50 

Have  power  to  raise  such  love  in  mine, 
Alack,  in  me  what  strange  effect 
Would  they  work  in  mild  aspect/ 
Whiles  you  chid  me,  I  did  love  ; 
How  then  might  your  prayers  ??iove  ! 
He  that  b7'ings  this  love  to  thee 
Little  knows  this  love  in  me  ; 
And  by  him  seal  up  thy  mind : 
Whether  that  thy  youth  and  kind 
Will  the  faithful  offer  take  60 

Of  me  and  all  that  I  can  7nake, 
Or  else  by  him  my  love  deny. 
And  then  I  7/  study  how  to  die. 
Silvius.    Call  you  this  chiding? 
Celia.    Alas,  poor  shepherd  ! 

Rosalind.  Do  you  pity  him?  no,  he  deserves  no 
pity.  —  Wilt  thou  love  such  a  woman  ?  What,  to  make 
thee  an  instrument  and  play  false  strains  upon  thee  ! 
not  to  be  endured  !  Well,  go  your  way  to  her,  for  I 
see  love  hath  made  thee  a  tame  snake,  and  say  this  to  70 
her  :  that  if  she  love  me,  I  charge  her  to  love  thee  ;  if 
she  will  not,  I  will  never  have  her  unless  thou  entreat 
for  her.  If  you  be  a  true  lover,  hence,  and  not  a 
word  ;  for  here  comes  more  company.     \_Exit  Silvius. 


Scene  III]  As  You   Like  It  113 

Enter  Oliver 

Oliver.    Good  morrow,  fair  ones  ;  pray  you,  if  you  know 
Where  in  the  purHeus  of  this  forest  stands 
A  sheepcote  fenc'd  about  with  ohve  trees? 

Celia,   West    of   this    place    down   in   the   neighbour 
bottom  ; 
The  rank  of  osiers  by  the  murmuring  stream 
Left  on  your  right  hand  brings  you  to  the  place.  80 

But  at  this  hour  the  house  doth  keep  itself; 
There  's  none  within. 

Oliver.   If  that  an  eye  may  profit  by  a  tongue, 
Then  should  I  know  you  by  description ; 
Such  garments  and  such  years  :  '  The  boy  is  fair. 
Of  female  favour,  and  bestows  himself 
Like  a  ripe  sister ;  the  woman  low 
And  browner  than  her  brother.'     Are  not  you 
The  owners  of  the  house  I  did  enquire  for  ? 

Celia.   It  is  no  boast,  being  ask'd,  to  say  we  are.        90 

Oliver.   Orlando  doth  commend  him  to  you  both, 
And  to  that  youth  he  calls  his  Rosalind 
He  sends  this  bloody  napkin.  —  Are  you  he? 

Rosalind.   I  am  ;  what  must  we  understand  by  this  ? 

Oliver.    Some  of  my  shame  ;  if  you  will  know  of  me 
What  man  I  am,  and  how,  and  why,  and  where 
This  handkercher  was  stain'd. 

Celia.  I  pray  you,  tell  it. 

Oliver.   When  last  the  young  Orlando  parted  from  you, 
He  left  a  promise  to  return  again 

AS   YOU   LIKE   IT  —  8 


114  ^s   You   Like  It  [Act  IV 

Within  an  hour,  and  pacing  through  the  forest,  loo    f 

Chewing  the  food  of  sweet  and  bitter  fancy, 

Lo,  what  befell !     He  threw  his  eye  aside. 

And  mark  what  object  did  present  itself! 

Under  an  oak,  whose  boughs  were  moss'd  with  age 

And  high  top  bald  with  dry  antiquity, 

A  wretched  ragged  man,  o'ergrown  with  hair. 

Lay  sleeping  on  his  back ;  about  his  neck 

A  green  and  gilded  snake  had  wreath'd  itself. 

Who  with  her  head  nimble  in  threats  approach'd 

The  opening  of  his  mouth.     But  suddenly,  no 

Seeing  Orlando,  it  unlink'd  itself. 

And  with  indented  glides  did  slip  away 

Into  a  bush,  under  which  bush's  shade 

A  lioness,  with  udders  all  drawn  dry. 

Lay  couching,  head  on  ground,  with  catlike  watch. 

When  that  the  sleeping  man  should  stir ;  for  't  is 

The  royal  disposition  of  that  beast 

To  prey  on  nothing  that  doth  seem  as  dead. 

This  seen,  Orlando  did  approach  the  man. 

And  found  it  was  his  brother,  his  elder  brother.  120 

Celia.    O,  I  have  heard  him  speak  of  that  same  brother ; 
And  he  did  render  him  the  most  unnatural 
That  liv'd  amongst  men. 

'  Oliver,  And  well  he  might  so  do. 

For  well  I  know  he  was  unnatural. 

Rosalind.    But,  to  Orlando  ;  did  he  leave  him  there, 
Food  to  the  suck'd  and  hungry  lioness  ? 

Oliver.   Twice  did  he  turn  his  back  and  purpos'd  so ; 


ene  III]  As  You   Like  It  115 

it  kindness,  nobler  ever  than  revenge, 
vnd  nature,  stronger  than  his  just  occasion, 
Made  him  give  battle  to  the  lioness,  130 

^ho  quickly  fell  before  him,  in  which  hurtling 
rom  miserable  slumber  I  awak'd. 
Celia.   Are  you  his  brother? 

Rosalind.  Was  't  you  he  rescued? 

Celia.    Was  't  you  that  did  so  oft  contrive  to  kill  him  ? 
Oliver,    'T  was  I,  but  't  is  not  I ;  I  do  not  shame 
To  tell  you  what  I  was,  since  my  conversion 
,,  So  sweetly  tastes,  being  the  thing  I  am. 
'   Rosalind.    But,  for  the  bloody  napkin? 

Oliver.  By  and  by. 

When  from  the  first  to  last  betwixt  us  two 
Tears  our  recountments  had  most  kindly  bath'd,  140 

As  how  I  came  into  that  desert  place,  — 
In  brief,  he  led  me  to  the  gentle  duke, 
Who  gave  me  fresh  array  and  entertainment, 
Committing  me  unto  my  brother's  love, 
Who  led  me  instantly  unto  his  cave, 
There  stripp'd  himself,  and  here  upon  his  arm 
i  The  lioness  had  torn  Some  flesh  away, 
\  Which  all  this  while  had  bled  ;  and  now  he  fainted, 
l'\nd  cried,  in  fainting,  upon  Rosalind. 
/Brief,  I  recover'd  him,  bound  up  his  wound ;  150 

J\  And,  after  some  small  space,  being  strong  at  heart, 
'^e  sent  me  hither,  stranger  as  I  am, 
"o  tell  this  story,  that  you  might  excuse 
lis  broken  promise,  and  to  give  this  napkin 


ii6  As  You   Like  It  [Act  iv 

Dyed  in  his  blood  unto  the  shepherd  youth 

That  he  in  sport  doth  call  his  Rosalind.    [^Rosalind swoons. 

Celia.    Why,  how  now,  Ganymede  !  sweet  Ganymede  ! 

Oliver.    Many  will  swoon  when  they  do  look  on  blood. 

Celia.   There  is  more  in  it.  —  Cousin  Ganymede  ! 

Oliver.    Look,  he  recovers.  i6o 

Rosalind.   I  would  I  were  at  home. 

Celia.  We  '11  lead  you  thither.  — 

I  pray  you,  will  you  take  him  by  the  arm? 

Oliver.  Be  of  good  cheer,  youth;  you  a  man  !  you 
lack  a  man's  heart. 

Rosalind.  I  do  so,  I  confess  it.  Ah,  sirrah,  a  body 
would  think  this  was  well  counterfeited  !  I  pray  you, 
tell  your  brother  how  well  I  counterfeited.  —  Heigh-ho  ! 

Oliver.  This  was  not  counterfeit ;  there  is  too  great 
testimony  in  your  complexion  that  it  was  a  passion  of 
earnest.  170 

Rosalind.    Counterfeit,  I  assure  you. 

Oliver.  Well  then,  take  a  good  heart  and  counter- 
feit to  be  a  man. 

Rosalind.  So  I  do  j  but,  i'  faith,  I  should  have  been 
a  woman  by  right. 

Celia.  Come,  you  look  paler  and  paler ;  pray  you, 
draw  homewards.  —  Good  sir,  go  with  us. 

Oliver.   That  will  I,  for  I  must  bear  answer  back 
How  you  excuse  my  brother,  Rosalind. 

Rosalind.    I  shall    devise    something ;    but,  I  pray  180 
you,  commend  my  counterfeiting  to  him.  —  Will  you 
go?  \_Exeunt. 


v^,  ^ 


S '■'■J  <,-f  \  <>A.^  _     "l<;     > 


"  Here  comes  a  fair  of  very  strange  beasts  " 


ACT  V 


Scene  I.     The  Forest 


Enter  Touchstone  and  Audrey 

Touchstone.  We  shall  find  a  time,  Audrey ;  pa- 
tience, gentle  Audrey. 

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

Touchstone.  A  most  wicked  Sir  Oliver,  Audrey,  a 
most  vile  Martext.  But,  Audrey,  there  is  a  youth  here 
in  the  forest  lays  claim  to  you. 

117 


ii8  As  You   Like  It  [Act  v 

Audrey.  Ay,  I  know  who  't  is  :  he  hath  no  interest 
in  me  in  the  world.     Here  comes  the  man  you  mean. 

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

Enter  William 

William.   Good  even,  Audrey. 

Audrey.   God  ye  good  even,  William. 

William.   And  good  even  to  you,  sir. 

Touchstone.  Good  even,  gentle  friend.  Cover  thy 
head,  cover  thy  head ;  nay,  prithee,  be  covered. 
How  old  are  you,  friend? 

William.   Five  and  twenty,  sir.  20 

Touchstone.   A  ripe  age.     Is  thy  name  William  ? 

William.   William,  sir. 

Touchstone.  A  fair  name.  Wast  born  i'  the  forest 
here? 

William.   Ay,  sir,  I  thank  God. 

Touchstone.  Thank  God  !  —  a  good  answer.  Art 
rich? 

William.    Faith,  sir,  so-so. 

Touchstone.   So-so  is  good,  very  good,  very  excel- 
lent good ;  and  yet  it  is  not,  it  is  but  so-so.     Art  thou  30 
wise  ? 

William.   Ay,  sir,  I  have  a  pretty  wit. 

Touchstone.  Why,  thou  sayest  well.  I  do  now  re- 
member a  saying,  *  The  fool  doth  think  he  is  wise,  but 


Scene  I]  As  You  Like  It  119 

the  wise   man   knows   himself  to   be  a  fool.'      The 
heathen  philosopher,  when  he  had  a  desire  to  eat  a      : 
grape,  would  open  his  lips  when  he   put  it  into  his  1/ 
mouth;  meaning  thereby  that  grapes  were  made  to 
eat  and  lips  to  open.     You  do  love  this  maid  ? 

William.   I  do,  sir.  40 

Touchstone.    Give  me  your  hand.     Art  thou  learned  ? 

William.    No,  sir. 

Touchstone.  Then  learn  this  of  me  :  to  have,  is  to 
have,  for  it  is  a  figure  in  rhetoric  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. 

William.   Which  he,  sir?  ' 

Touchstone.    He,  sir,  that  must  marry  this  woman.  \J 
Therefore,  you  clown,  abandon,  —  which  is  in  the  vul-  50 
gar   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  bet- 
ter understanding,  diest ;  or,  to  wit,  I  kill  thee,  make 
thee  away,  translate   thy  life   into   death,   thy  liberty 
into  bondage.     I  will  deal  in  poison  with   thee,  or  in 
bastinado,  or  in  steel ;  I  will  bandy  with  thee  in  fac- 
tion, I  will  o'errun  thee  with  policy,  I  will  kill  thee 
a  hundred  and   fifty  ways;    therefore   tremble,  and  60 
depart. 

Audrey.   Do,  good  William. 

William.   God  rest  you  merry,  sir.  \_Exit. 


I20  As  You   Like  It  [Act  v 

Enter  Corin 

Corin.  Our  master  and  mistress  seeks  you ;  come, 
away,  away  ! 

Touchstone.  Trip,  Audrey  !  trip,  Audrey  !  —  I  at- 
tend, I  attend.  \_Exeunt. 

Scene  II.     The  Forest 
Enter  Orlando  and  Oliver 

Orlando.  Is  't  possible  that  on  so  little  acquaint- 
ance you  should  like  her?  that  but  seeing  you  should 
love  her?  and  loving  woo?  and,  wooing,  she  should 
grant?  and  will  you  persever  to  enjoy  her? 

Oliver.  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  ray  father's  house  and  all  the  rev-  lo 
enue  that  was  old  Sir  Rowland's  will  I  estate  upon 
you,  and  here  live  and  die  a  shepherd. 

Orlando.  You  have  my  consent.  Let  your  wed- 
ding be  to-morrow ;  thither  will  I  invite  the  duke  and 
all  's  contented  followers.  Go  and  prepare  Aliena; 
for  look  you,  here  comes  my  Rosalind. 

Enter  Rosalind 

Rosalind.    God  save  you,  brother. 

Oliver.   And  you,  fair  sister.  \_Exit. 


Scene  II]  As  You   Like  It  121 

Rosalind.    O,  my  dear  Orlando,  how  it  grieves  me 
to  see  thee  wear  thy  heart  in  a  scarf !  20 

Oidando.    It  is  my  arm. 

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

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

Rosalind.    Did  your  brother  tell  you  how  I  counter- 
feited to  swoon  when  he  showed  me  your  handkercher? 

Orlando.   Ay,  and  greater  wonders  than  that. 

Rosalind.  O,  I  know  where  you  are.  Nay,  't  is 
true ;  there  was  never  any  thing  so  sudden  but  the 
fight  of  two  rams  and  Caesar's  thrasonical  brag  of  '  I  30 
came,  saw,  and  overcame.'  For  your  brother  and  my 
sister  no  sooner  met  but  they  looked,  no  sooner 
looked  but  they  loved,  no  sooner  loved  but  they 
sighed,  no  sooner  sighed  than  they  asked  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  incon- 
tinent. They  are  in  the  very  wrath  of  love,  and  they 
will  together ;  clubs  cannot  part  them. 

07da7ido.  They  shall  be  married  to-morrow,  and  1 40 
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 
think  my  brother  happy  in  having  what  he  wishes  for. 

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


122  As  You  Like  It  [Act  v 

Orlando,    I  can  live  no  longer  by  thinking. 

Rosalind.  I  will  weary  you  then  no  longer  with  idle 
talking.  Know  of  me  then,  for  now  I  speak  to  some  50 
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  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  year  old,  conversed  with  a  magician, 
most  profound  in  his  art  and  yet  not  damnable.  If 
you  do  love  Rosalind  so  near  the  heart  as  your  gesture  60 
cries  it  out,  when  your  brother  marries  Aliena,  shall 
you  marry  her.  I  know  into  what  straits  of  fortune 
she  is  driven ;  and  it  is  not  impossible  to  me,  if  it  ap- 
pear not  inconvenient  to  you,  to  set  her  before  your 
eyes  to-morrow,  human  as  she  is,  and  without  any 
danger. 

Orlando.   Speakest  thou  in  sober  meanings  ? 

Rosalind.    By  my  life,  I  do,  which  I  tender  dearly, 
though  I  say  I  am  a  magician.     Therefore,  put  you  in 
your  best  array,  bid  your  friends ;  for  if  you  will  be  70 
married  to-morrow,  you  shall,  and  to  Rosahnd,  if  you 

will. 

Enter  Silvius  and  Phebe 

Look,  here  comes  a  lover  of  mine  and  a  lover  of  hers. 
Phebe.  Youth,  you  have  done  me  much  ungentleness, 
To  show  the  letter  that  I  writ  to  you. 


Scene  II]  As  You  Like  It  123 

Rosalind.   I  care  not  if  I  have  ;  it  is  my  study 
To  seem  despiteful  and  ungentle  to  you. 
You  are  there  follow'd  by  a  faithful  shepherd ; 
Look  upon  him,  love  him ;  he  worships  you.  79 

Phebe.    Good  shepherd,  tell  this  youth  what 't  is  to  love. 

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

Phebe.   And  I  for  Ganymede. 

Orlando.   And  I  for  Rosahnd. 

Rosalind.   And  I  for  no  woman. 

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

Phebe.   And  I  for  Ganymede. 

Orlando.   And  I  for  Rosahnd. 

Rosalind.   And  I  for  no  woman.  90 

Silvius.    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  obedience ; 
And  so  am  I  for  Phebe. 

Phebe.   And  so  am  I  for  Ganymede. 

Orlando.   And  so  am  I  for  Rosahnd. 

Rosalind.   And  so  am  I  for  no  woman. 

Phebe.    If  this  be  so,  why  blame  you  me  to  love  you  ?  100 

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

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


124  As  You   Like  It  [Act  v 

Rosalind.  Why  do  you  speak  too,  '  Why  blame  you 
me  to  love  you  ?  ' 

Orlando.  To  her  that  is  not  here,  nor  doth  not  hear. 

Rosalind.  Pray  you,  no  more  of  this  ;  't  is  like  the 
howling  of  Irish  wolves  against  the  moon. —  \To  Sil- 
vitis']  I  will  help  you,  if  I  can. —  \_To  Phebe\  I  would  no 
love  you,  if  I  could.  To-morrow  meet  me  all  together. 
—  \To  Phebe\  I  will  marry  you,  if  ever  I  marry  woman, 
and  I  '11  be  married  to-morrow. —  \To  Orla7ido'\  I  will 
satisfy  you,  if  ever  I  satisfied  man,  and  you  shall  be 
married  to-morrow. —  \_To  Silvius']  I  will  content  you, 
if  what  pleases  you  contents  you,  and  you  shall  be 
married  to-morrow. —  \_To  Orla?ido~\  As  you  love 
Rosahnd,  meet; — \_To  Silviics~\  as  you  love  Phebe, 
meet ;  —  and  as  I  love  no  woman,  I  '11  meet.  So  fare 
you  well ;  I  have  left  you  commands.  120 

Silvius.    I  '11  not  fail,  if  I  live. 

Fhede.   Nor  I. 

Orlando.    Nor  I.  \_Exeunt 

Scene   III.     The  Forest 
Enter  Touchstone  and  Audrey 

Touchstone.  To-morrow  is  the  joyful  day,  Audrey ; 
to-morrow  will  we  be  married. 

Audrey.  I  do  desire  it  with  all  my  heart  j  and  I 
hope  it  is  no  dishonest  desire  to  desire  to  be  a  woman 
of  the  world.  Here  come  two  of  the  banished  duke's 
pages. 


Scene  III]  As  You   Like  It  125 

Enter  two  Pages 

1: 

First  Page.   Well  met,  honest  gentlemen.  ^ 

Touchstone.    By  my  troth,  well  met.     Come,  sit,  sit, 

and  a  song. 

Second  Page.    We  are  for  you  ;  sit  i'  the  middle.         10 
First  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  ? 

Second  Page.  1  I'  faith,  i'  faith  ;    and  both  in  a  tune, 

like  two  gypsies  on  a  horse.  .^ 

SONG 

//  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  spring  tifne,  the  only  pretty  ring  time, 
When  birds  do  sing,  hey  ding  a  ding,  ding;  20 

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  spiHng  time,  etc. 

This  carol  they  began  that  hour. 

With  a  hey,  and  a  ho,  and  a  hey  nonino, 

How  that  a  life  was  but  a  flower 
In  spring  time,  etc. 


126  As  You  Like  It  [Act  v 

And  therefore  take  the  prese?tt  time,  30 

With  a  hey,  and  a  ho,  and  a  hey  nonino  ; 
For  love  is  crowned  with  the  prime 
In  spjHng  time,  etc. 

Touchstone.  Truly,  young  gentlemen,  though  there 
was  no  great  matter  in  the  ditty,  yet  the  note  was  very 
untuneable. 

First  Page.  You  are  deceived,  sir;  we  kept  time, 
we  lost  not  our  time. 

Totuhstone.    By  my  troth,  yes ;  I  count  it  but  time 
lost  to  hear  such  a  foolish  song.     God  be  wi'  you,  and  40 
God  mend  your  voices  !  —  Come,  Audrey.      \_Exeunt. 


Scene  IV.     The  Forest 

Enter  Duke  Senior,  Amiens,  Jaques,  Orlando, 
Oliver,  and  Celia 

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

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

Enter  Rosalind,  Silvius,  and  Phebe 

Rosalind.   Patience  once  more,  whiles  our  compact 
is  urg'd.  — 


Scene  IV]  As  You   Like  It  127 

You  say,  if  I  bring  in  your  Rosalind, 
You  will  bestow  her  on  Orlando  here  ? 

Duke  Senior.   That  would  I,  had  I  kingdoms  to  give 

with  her. 
Rosalind.    And  you  say  you  will  have  her  when  I 

bring  her? 
Orlando.   That  would  I,  were  I  of  all  kingdoms  king.  10 
Rosalind.   You  say  you  '11  marry  me,  if  I  be  willing  ? 
Phebe.   That  will  I,  should  I  die  the  hour  after. 
Rosalind.    But  if  you  do  refuse  to  marry  me, 
You  '11  give  yourself  to  this  most  faithful  shepherd  ? 
Phebe.   So  is  the  bargain. 

Rosalind.   You  say  that  yo«^*ll  have  Phebe,  if  she  will  ? 
Silvius.   Though  to  have  hdr  and  death  were  both  one 

thing. 
Rosalind.   I  have   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  —  20 

Keep  your  word,  Phebe,  that  you  '11  marry  me, 
Or  else  refusing  me,  to  wed  this  shepherd. — 
Keep  your  word,  Silvius,  that  you  '11  marry  her, 
If  she  refuse  me ; — and  from  hence  I  go, 
To  make  these  doubts  all  even. 

\_Exeunt  Rosalind  and  Celia. 
Duke  Senior.    I  do  remember  in  this  shepherd  boy 
Some  lively  touches  of  my  daughter's  favour. 

Orlando.    My  lord,  the  first  time  that  I  ever  saw  him 
Methought  he  was  a  brother  to  your  daughter ; 


128  As  You  Like  It  [Act  v 

But,  my  good  lord,  this  boy  is  forest-born,  30 

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. 

Enter  Touchstone  and  Audrey 

Jaqiies.  There  is,  sure,  another  flood  toward,  and 
these  couples  are  coming  to  the  ark  !  Here  comes  a 
pair  of  very  strange  beasts,  which  in  all  tongues  are 
called  fools. 

Touchstone.    Salutation  and  greeting  to  you  all ! 

Jaques.    Good  my  lord,  bid  him  welcome.     This  is  40 
the  motley-minded  gentleman  that  I  have  so  often  met 
in  the  forest ;  he  hath  been  a  courtier,  he  swears. 

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

Jaques.   And  how  was  that  ta'en  up  ? 

Touchstone.  Faith,  we  met,  and  found  the  quarrel 
was  upon  the  seventh  cause.  50 

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

Duke  Senior.    I  like  him  very  well. 

Touchstone.  God  'ield  you,  sir  !  I  desire  you  of  the 
like.  I  press  in  here,  sir,  amongst  the  rest  of  the 
country  copulatives,  to  swear  and  forswear,  according 


Scene  IV]  As  You   Like  It  129 

as  marriage  binds  and  blood  breaks.     A  poor  virgin, 
sir,  an  ill-favoured  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,  60 
as  your  pearl  in  your  foul  oyster. 

Duke   Senior.    By  my  faith,  he  is  very  swift   and 
sententious. 

Touchstone.   According  to  the  fool's  bolt,  sir,  and 
such  dulcet  diseases. 

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

Touchstone.  Upon  a  lie  seven  times  removed— - 
bear  your  body  more  seeming,  Audrey  —  as  thus,  sir., 
I  did  dislike  the  cut  of  a  certain  courtier's  beard.  He  70 
sent  me  word,  if  I  said  his  beard  was  not  cut  well,  he 
was  in  the  mind  it  was ;  this  is  called  the  Retort 
Courteous.  If  I  sent  him  word  again  it  was  not  well 
cut,  he  would  send  me  word  he  cut  it  to  please  him- 
self; this  is  called  the  Quip  Modest.  If  again,  it  was 
not  well  cut,  he  disabled  my  judgment ;  this  is  called 
the  Reply  Churlish.  If  again,  it  was  not  well  cut,  he 
would  answer,  I  spake  not  true ;  this  is  called  the 
Reproof  Valiant.  If  again,  it  was  not  well  cut,  he 
would  say  I  lied ;  this  is  called  the  Countercheck  80 
Quarrelsome  :  and  so  to  the  Lie  Circumstantial  and 
the  Lie  Direct. 

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

Touchstone.    I  durst  go  no  further  than  the  Lie  Cir- 

AS   YOU   LIKE   IT  —  9 


130  As  You  Like  It  [Act  v 

cumstantial,  nor  he  durst  not  give  me  the  Lie  Direct ; 
and  so  we  measured  swords  and  parted. 

Jaques.    Can  you  nominate  in  order  now  the  degrees 
of  the  lie  ? 

Touchstone.  O  sir,  we  quarrel  in  print,  by  the  book,  90 
as  you  have  books  for  good  manners.  I  will  name  you 
the  degrees  :  the  first,  the  Retort  Courteous  ;  the  sec- 
ond, the  Quip  Modest ;  the  third,  the  Reply  Churhsh ; 
the  fourth,  the  Reproof  Valiant  -,  the  fifth,  the  Coun- 
tercheck Quarrelsome ;  the  sixth,  the  Lie  with  Circum- 
stance ;  the  seventh,  the  Lie  Direct.  All  these  you 
may  avoid  but  the  Lie  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  100 
you  said  so,  then  I  s^id  so ; '  and  they  shook  hands 
and  swore  brothers.  (  Your /If  is  the  only  peace- 
maker ;  much  virtue  in  '  If.' 

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

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

Enter  Hymen,  leading  Rosalind  in  her  proper  habit,  and 
Celia.     Still  Music 

Hymen.  Then  is  there  mirth  in  heaven, 
When  earthly  things  made  even 

Atone  together.  no 


Scene  IV]  As  You   Like  It  131 

Good  duke,  receive  thy  daughter ; 
Hymen  from  heaven  brought  her, 

Yea,  brought  her  hither. 
That  thou  mightst  join  her  hand  with  his 
Whose  heart  within  her  bosom  is. 
Rosalind.    \To  Duke']  To  you  I  give  myself,  for  I  am 
yours. — 
\_To  Orlando']  To  you  I  give  myself,  for  I  am  yours. 
Duke  Senior.    If  there  be  truth  in  sight,  you  are  my 

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

Rosalind. 
Phebe.   If  sight  and  shape  be  true,  120 

Why  then,  my  love  adieu  ! 

Rosalind.   I  '11  have  no  father,  if  you  be  not  he  ;  — 
I  '11  have  no  husband,  if  you  be  not  he ;  — 
Nor  ne'er  wed  woman,  if  you  be  not  she. 
Hymen.     Peace,  ho  !     I  bar  confusion. 
'T  is  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.  130 

You  and  you  no  cross  shall  part ;  — 
You  and  you  are  heart  in  heart ;  — 
You  to  his  love  must  accord. 
Or  have  a  woman  to  your  lord  j  — 
You  and  you  are  sure  together. 
As  the  winter  to  foul  weather.  — 


132  As  You  Like  It  [Act  v 

Whiles  a  wedlock-hymn  we  sing, 

Feed  yourselves  with  questioning, 

That  reason  wonder  may  diminish, 

How  thus  we  met,  and  these  things  finish.      140 

SONG 

Wedding  is  great  Juno''  s  crown  ; 

O  blessed  bond  of  board  and  bed  f 
^T  is  Hymen  peoples  every  town  ; 

High  wedlock  then  be  honoured  I 
Honour,  high  honour  and  renown, 

To  Hymen,  god  of  every  town  ! 

Duke  Senior.   O  my  dear  niece,  welcome  thou  art  to 
me  ! 
Even  daughter,  welcome,  in  no  less  degree. 

Phebe.    I  will  not  eat  my  word,  now  thou  art  mine ; 
Thy  faith  my  fancy  to  thee  doth  combine.  150 

Enter  Jaques  de  Boys 

Jaques  de  Boys.   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. 


Scene  IV]  As  You  Like  It  133 

And  to  the  skirts  of  this  wild  wood  he  came, 

Where  meeting  with  an  old  religious  man,  160 

After  some  question  with  him,  was  converted 

Both  from  his  enterprise  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  Senior.  Welcome,  young  man; 

Thou  offer'st  fairly  to  thy  brothers'  wedding  : 
To  one  his  lands  withheld,  and  to  the  other 
A  land  itself  at  large,  a  potent  dukedom.  — 
First,  in  this  forest  let  us  do  those  ends  170 

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. 
Meantime,  forget  this  new-fallen  dignity. 
And  fall  into  our  rustic  revelry.  — 
Play,  music  !  — And  you,  brides  and  bridegrooms  all. 
With  measure  heap'd  in  joy,  to  the  measures  fall. 

Jaques.  Sir,  by  your  patience.    If  I  heard  you  rightly,  180 
The  duke  hath  put  on  a  rehgious  life. 
And  thrown  into  neglect  the  pompous  court? 

Jaques  de  Boys.    He  hath. 

Jaques.  To  him  will  I ;  out  of  these  convertites 
There  is  much  matter  to  be  heard  and  learn' d.  — 
\_To  Duke'\  You  to  your  former  honour  I  bequeath; 


134  As  You  Like  It  [Act  v 

Your  patience  and  your  virtue  well  deserves  it  — 

[To  Or/ando']   You  to  a  love  that  your  true  faith  doth 

merit.  — 
'[To  Oliver]  You  to  your  land  and  love  and  great  allies.  — 
\_To  Silvius~\  You  to  a  long  and  well-deserved  bed.       190 
[Zb  Touchstone']   And  you  to  wrangling;  for  thy  loving 

voyage 
Is  but  for  two  months  victuall'd.  —  So,  to  your  pleasures ; 
I  am  for  other  than  for  dancing  measures. 

T)uke  Senior.    Stay,  Jaques,  stay. 

Jaques.   To  see  no  pastime  I ;  what  you  would  have 
I  '11  stay  to  know  at  your  abandon'd  cave.  [Exit. 

Duke  Senior.   Proceed,  proceed ;  we  will  begin  these 
rites, 
As  we  do  trust  they  '11  end,  in  true  delights.        [A  dance. 

Epilogue 

Rosalind.  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,  't  is  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,  that  am  neither 
a  good  epilogue  nor  cannot  insinuate  with  you  in  the 
behalf  of  a  good  play  !  I  am  not  furnished  Hke  a  beg- 
gar, therefore  to  beg  will  not  become  me ;  my  way  is  10 
to  conjure  you,  and  I  '11  begin  with  the  women.  I 
charge  you,  O  women,  for  the  love  you  bear  to  men. 


Scene  IV]  As  You  Like  It  135 

to  like  as  much  of  this  play  as  please  you ;  and  I 
charge  you,  O  men,  for  the  love  you  bear  to  women, 
—  as  I  perceive  by  your  simpering,  none  of  you  hates 
them,  —  that  between  you  and  the  women  the  play 
may  please.  If  I  were  a  woman  I  would  kiss  as  many 
of  you  as  had  beards  that  pleased  me,  complexions 
that  liked  me,  and  breaths  that  I  defied  not ;  and,  I 
am  sure,  as  many  as  have  good  beards  or  good  faces  20 
or  sweet  breaths  will,  for  my  kind  offer,  when  I  make 
curtsy,  bid  me  farewell. 

\_Exeunt. 


NOTES 


137 


NOTES 


Introduction 


The  Metre  of  the  Play.  —  It  should  be  understood  at  the 
outset  that  metre,  or  the  mechanism  of  verse,  is  something  alto- 
gether distinct  from  the  music  of  verse.  The  one  is  matter  of  rule, 
the  other  of  taste  and  feeling.  Music  is  not  an  absolute  necessity 
of  verse;  the  metrical  form  is  a  necessity,  being  that  which  consti- 
tutes the  verse. 

The  plays  of  Shakespeare  (with  the  exception  of  rhymed  pas- 
sages, and  of  occasional  songs  and  interludes)  are  all  in  unrhymed 
or  blank  verse  ;  and  the  normal  form  of  this  blank  verse  is  illus- 
trated by  the  first  line  of  verse  in  the  present  play  (i.  2.  225)  :  "I 
would  thou  hadst  been  son  to  some  man  else  "  ;  or  line  230  just 
below  :  "  But  fare  thee  well ;   thou  art  a  gallant  youth." 

Either  line,  it  will  be  seen,  consists  of  ten  syllables,  with  the  even 
syllables  (2d,  4th,  6th,  8th,  and  loth)  accented,  the  odd  syllables 
(ist,  3d,  etc)  being  unaccented.     Theoretically,  it  is  made  up  of 

139 


140  Notes 


five  feei  oi  two  syllables  each,  with  the  accent  on  the  second  sylla- 
ble. Such  a  foot  is  called  an  iambus  (plural,  iambuses,  or  the 
Latin  iambi),  and  the  form  of  verse  is  called  iambic. 

This  fundamental  law  of  Shakespeare's  verse  is  subject  to  certain 
modifications,  the  most  important  of  which  are  as  follows  :  — 

1.  After  the  tenth  syllable  an  unaccented  syllable  (or  even  two 
such  syllables)  may  be  added,  forming  what  is  sometimes  called  a 
female  line  ;  as  in  i.  2.  231  :  "I  would  thou  haclst  told  me  of  an- 
other father."  The  rhythm  is  complete  with  the  first  syllable  of 
father,  the  second  being  an  extra  eleventh  syllable.  In  line  259 : 
*'  I  cannot  speak  to  her,  yet  she  urg'd  conference,"  we  have  two 
extra  syllables,  the  rhythm  being  complete  with  the  first  syllable  of 
conference. 

2.  The  accent  in  any  part  of  the  verse  may  be  shifted  from  an 
even  to  an  odd  syllable  ;   as  in  lines  241,  243  :  — 

"  Let  us  go  thank  him  and  encourage  him  ; 
****** 
Sticks  me  at  heart.  —  Sir,  you  have  well  deserv'd." 

In  both  lines  the  accent  is  shifted  from  the  second  to  the  first  syl- 
lable. This  change  occurs  very  rarely  in  the  tenth  syllable,  and 
seldom  in  the  fourth  ;  and  it  is  not  allowable  in  two  successive  ac- 
cented syllables. 

3.  An  extra  unaccented  syllable  may  occur  in  any  part  of  the 
line  ;  as  in  lines  231  and  242.  In  231  the  word  hadsl  is  superflu- 
ous (S.  might  have  written  "thou'dst"),  and  in  242  the  second 
syllable  of  envious. 

4.  Any  unaccented  syllable  occurring  in  an  even  place  immedi- 
ately before  or  after  an  even  syllable  which  is  properly  accented,  is 
reckoned  as  accented  for  the  purposes  of  the  verse  ;  as,  for  instance, 
in  lines  226  and  227.  In  226  the  third  syllable  of  honourable,  and 
in  227  the  last  syllable  of  enemy,  are  metrically  equivalent  to  ac- 
cented syllables. 

5.  In  many  instances  in  Shakespeare  words  must  be  lengthened 
in  order  to  fill  out  the  rhythm :  — 


Notes  141 

(a)  Iri  a  large  class  of  words  in  which  e  or  i  is  followed  by  an- 
other vowel,  the  e  or  i  is  made  a  separate  syllable  ;  as  ocean,  opin- 
ion, soldier,  patience,  partial,  marriage,  etc.  For  instance,  the  line 
(i.  3.  77),  "  Her  very  silence  and  her  patience,"  appears  to  have  only 
nine  syllables,  but  patie7ice  (see  note  on  the  word)  is  a  trisyllable. 
In  i.  3.  66  and  127,  Celia  is  a  trisyllable ;  condition  is  a  quadrisyl- 
lable in  i.  2.  265  ;  action  is  a  trisyllable  in  iv.  3.  9,  etc.  This 
lengthening  occurs  most  frequently  at  the  end  of  the  line.  In  ii.  7. 
41  of  this  play  ("  With  observation,  the  which  he  vents")  we  find 
one  of  the  rare  exceptions  to  this  statement,  observation  having  five 
syllables. 

((5)  Many  monosyllables  ending  in  r,  re,  rs,  res,  preceded  by  a 
long  vowel  or  diphthong,  are  often  made  disyllables  ;  2iS  fare,  fear, 
dear,  fire,  hair,  hotir,  your,  etc.  In  M.  of  V.  iii.  2.  304  :  "Shall 
lose  a  hair  through  Bassanio's  fault,"  hair  is  a  dissyllable.  If  the 
word  is  repeated  in  a  verse,  it  is  often  both  monosyllable  and  dissyl- 
lable ;  as  in  M.  of  V.  iii.  2.  20  ;  "  And  so,  though  yours,  not  yours. 
Prove  it  so,"  where  e\ih.QX  yours  (preferably  the  first)  is  a  dissylla- 
ble, the  other  being  a  monosyllable.  Iny.  C.  iii.  I.  172  :  "As  fire 
drives  out  fire,  so  pity,  pity,"  the  first yzr^  is  a  dissyllable. 

(f)  Words  containing  /  or  r,  preceded  by  another  consonant,  are 
often  pronounced  as  if  a  vowel  came  between  the  consonants ;  as 
in  this  play,  ii.  2.  13  :  "The  parts  and  graces  of  the  wrestler" 
[wrest(e)ler]  ;  also  in  T.  of  S.  ii.  i.  158  :  "  While  she  did  call  me 
rascal  fiddler"  [fidd(e)ler]  ;  All's  Well,  iii.  5.  43  ••  "If  you  will 
tarry,  holy  pilgrim"  [pilg(e)rim]  ;  C.  of  E.  v.  I.  360  :  "These  are 
the  parents  of  these  children  "  (childeren,  the  original  form  of  the 
word)  ;  W.  T.  iv.  4.  76  ;  "Grace  and  remembrance  [rememb(e)- 
rance]  be  to  you  both  !  "  etc. 

{d)  Monosyllabic  exclamatiojis  {ay,  O,  yea,  nay,  hail,  etc.)  and 
monosyllables  otherwise  emphasized  are  similarly  lengthened;  also 
certain  longer  words;  as  commandement  in  M.  of  V.  iv.  i.  451  ; 
safety  (trisyllable)  in  Ham.  i.  3.  21 ;  business  (trisyllable,  as  origi- 
nally pronounced)  in/.  C.  iv.  i.  22:  "To  groan  and  sweat  under 


142  Notes 

the  business "   (so  in  several  other  passage^ ;    and  other  words 
mentioned  in  the  notes  to  the  plays  in  which  they  occur. 

6.  Words  are  also  contracted  for  metrical  reasons,  like  plurals 
and  possessives  ending  in  a  sibilant,  as  balance,  horse  (for  horses  and 
horse's'),  princess,  sense,  marriage  (plural  and  possessive),  image, 
etc.  So  sentence  (see  note  on  iii.  2.  133),  many  contracted  super- 
latives {fraiVst  in  iii.  5.  12,  stern' st,  secret' st,  near'st,  kind'st,  etc.), 
and  other  words  mentioned  in  the  notes  on  this  and  other  plays. 

7.  The  accent  of  words  is  also  varied  in  many  instances  for  met- 
rical reasons.  Thus  we  find  both  reveitue  and  revenue  in  the  first 
scene  of  the  M.  N.  D.  (lines  6  and  158),  dbscure  and  obscure, 
pursue  3.nd  pursue,  distinct  and  distinct,  exile  and  exile  (see  on  ii. 
I.  i),  cdnfine  and  confine  (see  on  ii.  i.  24),  etc. 

These  instances  of  variable  accent  must  not  be  confounded  with 
those  in  which  words  were  uniformly  accented  differently  in  the 
time  of  Shakespeare;  like  aspect  (see  on  iv.  3.  53),  impdrtune^  per- 
sever  (nevex persevere),  perseverance,  rheumatic,  etc. 

8.  Alexandrines,  or  verses  of  twelve  syllables,  with  six  accents, 
occur  here  and  there  in  all  the  plays.  They  must  not  be  confounded 
with  female  lines  with  two  extra  syllables  (see  on  i  above)  or  with 
other  lines  in  which  two  extra  unaccented  syllables  may  occur. 

9.  Incomplete  verses,  of  one  or  more  syllables,  are  scattered 
through  the  plays.     See  i.  2.  290,  ii.  3.  15,  ii.  7.  11,  iii.  5.  138,  etc. 

10.  Doggerel  measure  is  used  in  the  very  earliest  comedies 
(Z.  L.  L.  and  C.  of  E.  in  particular)  in  the  mouths  of  comic  char- 
acters, but  nowhere  else  in  those  plays,  and  never  anywhere  after 
1598  or  1599.     There  is  none  in  the  present  play. 

IT.  Rhyme  occurs  frequently  in  the  early  plays,  but  diminishes 
with  comparative  regularity  from  that  period  until  the  latest.  Thus, 
in  Z.  Z.  Z.  there  are  about  iioo  rhyming  verses  (about  one-third 
of  the  whole  number),  in  the  M.  N.  D.  about  900,  in  Rich.  II. 
and  R.  and  J.  about  500  each,  while  in  Cor.  and  A.  and  C.  there  are 
only  about  40  each,  in  the  Temp,  only  two,  and  in  the  W.  T.  none 
at  all,  except  in  the  chorus  introducing  act  iv.     Songs,  interludes, 


Notes  143 

and  other  matter  not  in  ten-syllable  measure  are  not  included  in 
this  enumeration.  In  the  present  play,  out  of  some  1000  ten- 
syllable  verses,  about  a  hundred  are  in  rhyme.  Nearly  two-thirds 
of  the  play  is  in  prose. 

Alternate  rhymes  are  found  only  in  the  plays  written  before  1599 
or  1600.  In  this  play  they  occur  only  in  iii.  2.  1-8.  In  M.  of  V. 
we  find  four  lines,  and  twenty  in  Much  Ado,  but  none  at  all  in  sub- 
sequent plays. 

Rkyjfied  cotiplets,  or  "  rhyme-tags,"  are  often  found  at  the  end  of 
scenes  ;  as  in  8  out  of  the  22  scenes  in  the  present  play.  In  Ham., 
14  out  of  20  scenes,  and  in  Macb.,  21  out  of  28,  have  such  "tags"; 
but  in  the  latest  plays  they  are  not  so  frequent.  The  Temp.,  for 
instance,  has  but  one,  and  the  W.  T.  none.  *■ 

12.  In  this  edition  of  Shakespeare,  the  final  -ed  of  past  tenses 
and  participles  is  printed  -Vwhen  the  word  is  to  be  pronounced  in 
the  ordinary  way  ;  as  in  pleas' d,  line  228,  and  lov^d,  line  236,  of  the 
second  scene.  But  when  the  metre  requires  that  the  -ed  be  made  a 
separate  syllable,  the  e  is  retained ;  as  in  marked,  ii.  i.  41,  where 
the  word  is  a  dissyllable.  The  only  variation  from  this  rule  is  in 
verbs  like  cry,  die,  etc.,  the  -ed  of  which  is  very  rarely,  if  ever,  made 
a  separate  syllable. 

Shakespeare's  Use  of  Verse  and  Prose  in  the  Plays. — 
This  is  a  subject  to  which  the  critics  have  given  very  little  atten- 
tion, but  it  is  an  interesting  study.  In  the  present  play  we  find 
scenes  entirely  in  verse  or  in  prose,  and  others  in  which  the  two  are 
mixed.  In  general,  we  may  say  that  verse  is  used  for  what  is  dis- 
tinctly poetical,  and  prose  for  what  is  not  poetical.  The  distinction, 
however,  is  not  so  clearly  marked  in  the  earlier  as  in  the  later 
plays.  The  second  scene  of  the  M.  of  V.,  for  instance,  is  in  prose, 
because  Portia  and  Nerissa  are  talking  about  the  suitors  in  a  familiar 
and  playful  way;  but  in  the  T.  G,  of  V.,  where  Julia  and  Lucetta 
are  discussing  the  suitors  of  the  former  in  much  the  same  fashion, 
the  scene  is  in  verse.  Dowden,  commenting  on  Jiich.  II.,  re- 
marks :  "  Had  Shakespeare  written  the  play  a  few  years  later,  we 


144  Notes 

may  be  certain  that  the  gardener  and  his  servants  (iii.  4)  would 
not  have  uttered  stately  speeches  in  verse,  but  vi^ould  have  spoken 
homely  prose,  and  that  humor  vi^ould  have  mingled  w^ith  the 
pathos  of  the  scene.  The  same  remark  may  be  made  with  refer- 
ence to  the  subsequent  scene  (v.  5)  in  which  his  groom  visits  the 
dethroned  king  in  the  Tower."  Comic  characters  and  those  in  low- 
life  generally  speak  in  prose  in  the  later  plays,  as  Dowden  inti- 
mates, but  in  the  very  earliest  ones  doggerel  verse  is  much  used 
instead.     See  on  10  above. 

The  change  from  prose  to  verse  is  well  illustrated  in  the  third 
scene  of  the  M.  of  V.  It  begins  with  plain  prosaic  talk  about  a 
business  matter;  but  when  Antonio  enters,  it  rises  at  once  to  the 
higher  level  of  poetry.  The  sight  of  Antonio  reminds  Shylock  of 
his  hatred  of  the  Merchant,  and  the  passion  expresses  itself  in  verse, 
the  vernacular  tongue  of  poetry.  We  have  a  similar  change  in 
the  first  scene  of  /.  C,  where,  after  the  quibbling  "  chaff "  of  the 
mechanics  about  their  trades,  the  mention  of  Pompey  reminds  t].ie 
Tribune  of  their  plebeian  fickleness,  and  his  scorn  and  indignation 
flame  out  in  most  eloquent  verse. 

The  reasons  for  the  choice  of  prose  or  verse  are  not  always  so 
clear  as  in  these  instances.  We  are  seldom  puzzled  to  explain  the 
prose,  but  not  unfrequently  we  meet  with  verse  where  we  might 
expect  prose.  As  Professor  Corson  remarks  (^Introduction  to  Shake- 
speare, 1889),  "  Shakespeare  adopted  verse  as  the  general  tenor  of 
his  language,  and  therefore  expressed  much  in  verse  that  is  within 
the  capabilities  of  prose ;  in  other  words,  his  verse  constantly 
encroaches  upon  the  domain  of  prose,  but  his  prose  can  never  be 
said  to  encroach  upon  the  domain  of  verse."  If  in  rare  instances 
we  think  we  find  exceptions  to  this  latter  statement,  and  prose 
actually  seems  to  usurp  the  place  of  verse,  I  believe  that  careful 
study  of  the  passage  will  prove  the  supposed  exception  to  be  appar- 
ent rather  than  real. 

Some  Books  for  Teachers  and  Students.  —  A  few  out  of 
the  many  books  that  might  be  commended  to  the  teacher  and  the 


Notes  145 

critical  student  are  the  following:  Halliwell-Phillipps's  Outlines 
of  the  Life  of  Shakespeare  (7th  ed.  1887);  Sidney  Lee's  Life  of 
Shakespeare  (1898;  for  ordinary  students  the  abridged  ed.  of  1899 
is  preferable);  Schmidt's  Shakespeare  Lexicon  (3d  ed.  1902); 
Littledale's  ed.  of  Dyce's  Glossary  (1902)  ;  Bartlett's  Concordance 
to  Shakespeare  (1895);  Abbott's  Shakespearian  Grammar  (1873); 
Furness's  "New  Variorum"  edition  of  As  You  Like  It  (1890,  en- 
cyclopaedic and  exhaustive);  Dowden's  Shakspere :  His  Mind  and 
Art  (American  ed.  1881);  Hudson's  Life,  Art,  and  Characters  of 
Shakespeare  (revised  ed.  1882);  Mrs.  Jameson's  Characteristics  of 
Wovien  (several  eds.,  some  with  the  title,  Shakespeare  Heroines^ ; 
Ten  Brink's  Five  Lectures  on  Shakespeare  (1895);  Boas's  Shake- 
speare arid  His  Predecessors  (1895);  Dyer's  Folk-lore  of  Shake- 
speare (American  ed.  1884);  Gervinus's  Shakespeare  Commentaries 
(Bunnett's  translation,  1875);  '^ox^v^ox'Cc^^  Shakespeare's  Knowl- 
edge of  the  Bible  (3d  ed.  1880);  Elson's  Shakespeare  in  Music 
(1901). 

Some  of  the  above  books  will  be  useful  to  all  readers  who  are 
interested  in  special  subjects  or  in  general  criticism  of  Shakespeare. 
Among  those  which  are  better  suited  to  the  needs  of  ordinary 
readers  and  students,  the  following  may  be  mentioned :  Phin's 
Cyclopcedia  and  Glossary  of  Shakespeare  (1902,  more  compact  and 
cheaper  than  Dyce);  Dowden's  Shakspere  Primer  (1877,  small 
but  invaluable);  Rolfe's  Shakespeare  the  Boy  (1896,  treating  of 
the  home  and  school  life,  the  games  and  sports,  the  manners, 
customs,  and  folk-lore  of  the  poet's  time) ;  Guerber's  Myths  of 
Greece  and  Rome  (for  young  students  who  may  need  information 
on  mythological  allusions  not  explained  in  the  notes). 

Black's  Judith  Shakespeare  (1884,  a  novel,  but  a  careful  study 
of  the  scene  and  the  time)  is  a  book  that  I  always  commend  to 
young  people,  and  their  elders  will  also  enjoy  it.  The  Lambs' 
Tales  from  Shakespeare  is  a  classic  for  beginners  in  the  study  of 
the  dramatist ;  and  in  Rolfe's  ed.  the  plan  of  the  authors  is  carried 
out  in  the  Notes  by  copious  illustrative  quotations  from  the  plays. 

AS   YOU   LIKE   IT — lO 


146  Notes 

Mrs.  Cowden-Clarke's  Girlhood  of  Shakespeare's  Heroines  (several 
eds.)  will  particularly  interest  girls  ;  and  both  girls  and  boys  will 
find  Bennett's  Master  Skylark  (1897)  ^^^  Imogen  Clark's  Will 
Shakespeare's  Little  Lad  {\%()^^  equally  entertaining  and  instructive. 

H.  Snowden  Ward's  Shakespeare' s  Town  and  Times  (1896)  and 
John  Leyland's  Shakespeare  Country  (1900)  are  copiously  illus- 
trated books  (yet  inexpensive)  which  may  be  particularly  com- 
mended for  school  libraries. 

Abbreviations  in  the  Notes.  —  The  abbreviations  of  the 
names  of  Shakespeare's  plays  will  be  readily  understood ;  as 
T.  N.  for  Twelfth  Night,  Cor.  for  Coriolanus,  3  Lien.  VL.  for 
The  Third  Part  of  King  ILenry  the  Sixth,  etc.  P.  P.  refers  to 
The  Passionate  Pilgrim;  V.  and  A.  to  Venus  and  Adonis ;  L.  C. 
to  Lover's  Complaint ;  and  Sonn.  to  the  Sonnets. 

Other  abbreviations  that  hardly  need  explanation  are  Cf.  {co7ifer, 
compare),  Fol.  (following),  Ld.  {idem,  the  same),  and  Prol.  (pro- 
logue). The  numbers  of  the  lines  in  the  references  (except  for  the 
present  play)  are  those  of  the  "  Globe  "  edition  (the  cheapest  and 
best  edition  of  Shakespeare  in  one  compact  volume),  which  is  now 
generally  accepted  as  the  standard  for  line-numbers  in  works  of  ref- 
erence (Schmidt's  Lexicon,  Abbott's  Grammar,  etc.). 

The  Story  of  the  Play  as  given  by  Lodge. — The  follow- 
ing extracts  from  Lodge's  novel  ^  include  the  parts  chiefly  used  by 
Shakespeare :  — 

["  Sir  John  of  Burdeaux,"  on  his  death-bed,  calls  his  three  sons, 
Saladyne,  Fernandine,  and  Rosader,  and  divides  his  estate  among 
them.  To  Saladyne  he  gives  "fourteene  ploughlands,"  with  his 
"mannor  houses  and  richest  plate";  to  Fernandine,  "twelve 
ploughlands";  and  to  Rosader,  his  horse,  armor,  and  lance, 
"  with  sixteene  ploughlands."] 

1 1  take  these  from  Halliwell-Phillipps,  who  reprints  the  novel  in  full 
in  his  folio  ed.  I  insert  the  paragraphs  in  brackets  to  supply  the  gaps 
in  the  narrative. 


Notes  147 


Act  I.  Scene  I.  —  Saladyne,  "  after  a  months  mourning  was  past, 
fel  to  consideration  of  his  fathers  testament;  how  hee  had  be- 
queathed more  to  his  yoonger  brothers  than  himselfe,  that  Rosader 
was  his  fathers  darling,  but  now  under  his  tuition,  that  as  yet  they 
were  not  come  to  yeares,  and  he  being  their  gardian,  might,  if  not 
defraud  them  of  their  due,  yet  make  such  havocke  of  theyr  legacies 
and  lands,  as  they  should  be  a  great  deal  the  lighter :  whereupon 
he  began  thus  to  meditate  with  himselfe.  ... 

"Thy  brother  is  yoong,  keepe  him  now  in  awe;  make  him  not 
checke  mate  with  thy  selfe,  for,  — '  Nimia  familiaritas  contemptum 
parit.'  Let  him  know  litle,  so  shall  he  not  be  able  to  execute 
much :  suppresse  his  wittes  with  a  base  estate,  and  though  hee 
be  a  gentleman  by  nature,  yet  forme  him  anew,  and  make  him 
a  peasant  by  nourture.  So  shalt  thou  keepe  him  as  a  slave,  and 
raigne  thy  selfe  sole  lord  over  all  thy  fathers  possessions.  As  for 
Fernandyne,  thy  middle  brother,  he  is  a  scholler  and  hath  no  minde 
but  on  Aristotle :  let  him  reade  on  Galen  while  thou  riflest  with 
golde,  and  pore  on  his  booke  whilest  thou  doest  purchase  landes : 
witte  is  great  wealth;  if  he  have  learning  it  is  enough,  and  so 
let  all  rest.  ■■-  ,    .   ^^^^■-.. 

"  In  this  humour  was  Saladyne,  making  his  brother  Rosader  his 
foote  boy  for  the  space  of  two  or  three  yeares,  keeping  him  in  such 
servile  subjection,  as  if  he  had  been  the  sonne  of  any  country 
vassal.  The  young  gentleman  bare  all  with  patience,  til  on  a  day, 
walking  in  the  garden  by  himselfe,  he  began  to  consider  how  he 
was  the  sonne  of  John  of  Bourdeaux,  a  knight  renowmed  for  many 
victories,  and  a  gentleman  famozed  for  his  vertues;  how,  contrarie 
to  the  testament  of  his  father,  hee  was  not  only  kept  from  his  land 
and  intreated  as  a  servant,  but  smothered  in  such  secret  slaverie, 
as  hee  might  not  attaine  to  any  honourable  actions.  Alas,  quoth 
hee  to  himselfe,  nature  woorking  these  effectuall  passions,  why 
should  I,  that  am  a  gentleman  borne,  passe  my  time  in  such  un- 
natural drudgery?  were  it  not  better  either  in  Paris  to  become  a 
scholler,  or  in  the  court  a  courtier,  or  in  the  field  a  souldier,  then 


148  Notes 

to  live  a  foote  boy  to  my  own  brother  ?  nature  hath  lent  me  wit  to 
conceive,  but  my  brother  denies  mee  art  to  contemplate :  I  have 
strength  to  performe  any  honorable  exployt,  but  no  libertie  to 
accomplish  my  vertuous  indevours :  those  good  partes  that  God 
hath  bestowed  upon  mee,  the  envy  of  my  brother  doth  smother  in 
obscuritie;  the  harder  is  my  fortune,  and  the  more  his  frowardnes. 
With  that,  casting  up  his  hand  he  felt  haire  on  his  face,  and  per- 
ceiving his  beard  to  bud,  for  choler  hee  began  to  blush,  and  swore 
to  himselfe  he  would  be  no  more  subject  to  such  slaverie.  As  he 
was  thus  ruminating  of  his  melancholic  passions  in  came  Saladyne 
with  his  men,  and  seeing  his  brother  in  a  browne  study,  and  to 
forget  his  wonted  reverence,  thought  to  shake  him  out  of  his 
dumps  thus.  Sirha,  quoth  he,  what  is  your  heart  on  your  halfe- 
peny,  or  are  you  saying  a  dirge  for  your  fathers  soule  ?  what,  is  my 
dinner  readie  ?  At  this  question  Rosader,  turning  his  head  ascance, 
and  bending  his  browes  as  if  anger  there  had  ploughed  the  furrowes 
of  her  wrath,  with  his  eyes  full  of  fire,  hee  made  this  replie.  Doest 
thou  aske  mee,  Saladyne,  for  thy  cates  ?  aske  some  of  thy  churles 
who  are  fit  for  suche  an  office :  I  am  thine  equal  by  nature,  though 
not  by  birth,  and  though  thou  hast  more  cardes  in  thy  bunch,  I 
have  as  many  trumpes  in  my  handes  as  thy  selfe.  Let  me  question 
with  thee,  why  thou  hast  feld  my  woods,  spoyled  my  manner 
houses,  and  made  havocke  of  suche  utensalles  as  my  father  be- 
queathed unto  mee  ?  I  tell  thee,  Saladyne,  either  answere  mee  as 
a  brother,  or  I  wil  trouble  thee  as  an  enemie.  At  this  replie  of 
Rosaders  Saladyne  smiled,  as  laughing  at  his  presumption,  and 
frowned  as  checking  his  folly:  he  therfore  tooke  him  up  thus 
shortly :  What,  sirha,  wel  I  see  early  pricks  the  tree  that  wil  proove 
a  thorne :  hath  my  familiar  conversing  with  you  made  you  coy,  or 
my  good  lookes  drawne  you  to  be  thus  contemptuous  ?  I  can 
quickly  remedie  such  a  fault,  and  I  wil  bend  the  tree  while  it  is  a 
wand.  In  faith,  sir  boy,  I  have  a  snaffle  for  such  a  headstrong  colt. 
You,  sirs,  lay  holde  on  him  and  binde  him,  and  then  I  wil  give  him 
a  cooling  carde  for  his  choller.     This  made  Rosader  halfe  mad, 


Notes  149 


that  stepping  to  a  great  rake  that  stood  in  the  garden,  hee  laide 
such  loade  uppon  his  brothers  men  that  hee  hurt  some  of  them, 
and  made  the  rest  of  them  run  away.  Saladyne  seeing  Rosader  so 
resolute,  and  with  his  resokition  so  valiant,  thought  his  heeles  his 
best  safetie,  and  tooke  him  to  a  loaft  adjoyning  to  the  garden, 
whether  Rosader  pursued  him  hotly.  Saladine,  afraide  of  his 
brothers  furie,  cried  out  to  him  thus :  Rosader,  be  not  so  rash :  I 
am  thy  brother  and  thine  elder,  and  if  I  have  done  thee  wrong  ile 
make  thee  amendes.  .  .  . 

"  These  wordes  appeased  the  choller  of  Rosader,  for  he  was  of  a 
milde  and  curteous  nature,  so  that  hee  layde  downe  his  weapons, 
and  upon  the  faith  of  a  gentleman  assured  his  brother  hee  would 
offer  him  no  prejudice :  whereupon  Saladyne  came  down,  and  after 
a  little  parley,  they  imbraced  cache  other  and  became  friends.  .  .  . 
Thus  continued  the  pad  hidden  in  the  strawe,  til  it  chaunced  that 
Torismond,  king  of  France,  had  appointed  for  his  pleasure  a  day 
of  wrastling  and  of  tournament  to  busie  his  commons  heades,  least, 
being  idle,  their  thoughts  should  runne  uppon  more  serious  matters, 
and  call  to  remembrance  their  old  banished  king.  A  champion 
there  was  to  stand  against  all  commers,  a  Norman,  a  man  of  tall 
stature  and  of  great  strength;  so  valiant,  that  in  many  such  con- 
flicts he  alwaies  bare  away  the  victorie,  not  onely  overthrowing 
them  which  hee  incountred,  but  often  with  the  weight  of  his  bodie 
killing  them  outright.  Saladyne  hearing  of  this,  thinking  now  not 
to  let  the  ball  fal  to  the  ground,  but  to  take  opportunitie  by  the 
forehead,  first  by  secret  meanes  convented  with  the  Norman,  and 
procured  him  with  rich  rewards  to  sweare,  that  if  Rosader  came 
within  his  clawes  hee  would  never  more  returne  to  quarrel  with 
Saladyne  for  his  possessions.  The  Norman  desirous  of  pelfe,  as, 
quis  nisi  vientis  inops  oblaium  respuit  auru^n,  taking  great  gifts 
for  litle  gods,  tooke  the  crownes  of  Saladyne  to  performe  the  strata- 
gem. Having  thus  the  champion  tied  to  his  vilanous  determination 
by  oath,  hee  prosecuted  the  intent  of  his  purpose  thus :  —  He  went 
to  yoong  Rosader,  who  in  all  his  thoughts  reacht  at  honour,  and 


150  Notes 


gazed  no  lower  then  vertue  commanded  him,  and  began  to  tel  him 
of  this  tournament  and  wrastling,  how  the  king  should  be  there 
and  all  the  chiefe  peeres  of  France,  with  all  the  beautiful  damosels 
of  the  countrey.  Now,  brother,  quoth  hee,  for  the  honor  of  Sir 
John  of  Bourdeaux,  our  renowmed  father,  to  famous  that  house 
that  never  hath  bin  found  without  men  approoved  in  chivalrie 
shewe  thy  resolution  to  be  peremptorie.  For  myselfe  thou  knowest 
though  I  am  eldest  by  birth,  yet  never  having  attempted  any  deedes 
of  armes,  I  am  yongest  to  performe  any  martial  exploytes,  knowing 
better  how  to  survey  my  lands  then  to  charge  my  launce :  my 
brother  Fernandyne  hee  is  at  Paris  poring  on  a  fewe  papers,  having 
more  insight  into  sophistrie  and  principles  of  philosophic,  then  anie 
warlyke  indeveurs;  but  thou,  Rosader,  the  youngest  in  yeares  but 
the  eldest  in  valour,  art  a  man  of  strength,  and  darest  doo  what 
honour  allowes  thee.  Take  thou  thy  fathers  launce,  his  sword,  and 
his  horse,  and  hye  thee  to  the  tournament,  and  either  there  valiantly 
cracke  a  speare,  or  trie  with  the  Norman  for  the  palme  of  activitie. 
The  words  of  Saladyne  were  but  spurres  to  a  free  horse,  for  hee 
had  scarce  uttered  them  ere  Rosader  tooke  him  in  his  armes, 
taking  his  proffer  so  kindly  that  hee  promised  in  what  hee  might 
to  requite  his  curtesie.  ... 

Scene  II.  —  "But  leaving  him  so  desirous  of  the  journey,  turn 
we  to  Torismond,  the  king  of  France,  who  having  by  force  banished 
Gerismond,  their  lawful  king,  that  lived  as  an  outlaw  in  the  forest 
of  Arden,  sought  now  by  all  meanes  to  keep  the  French  busied 
with  all  sports  that  might  breed  their  content.  Amongst  the  rest 
he  had  appointed  this  solemne  turnament,  wherunto  hee  in  most 
solemne  maner  resorted,  accompanied  with  the  twelve  peers  of 
France,  who,  rather  for  fear  then  love,  graced  him  with  the  shew 
of  their  dutiful  favours.  To  feede  their  eyes,  and  to  make  the 
beholders  pleased  with  the  sight  of  most  rare  and  glistring  objects, 
he  had  appoynted  his  owne  daughter  Alinda  to  be  there,  and  the 
fair  Rosalynd,  daughter  unto  Gerismond,  with  al  the  beautifull 
damoselles  that  were  famous  for  their  features  in  all  France.  .  .  . 


Notes  151 


"  At  last  when  the  tournament  ceased,  the  wrastling  beganne,  and 
the  Norman  presented  himselfe  as  a  chalenger  against  all  commers, 
but  hee  looked  lyke  Hercules  when  he  advaunst  himselfe  agaynst 
Acheloiis,  so  that  the  furie  of  his  countenance  amazed  all  that  durst 
attempte  to  incounter  with  him  in  any  deed  of  activitie  :  til  at  last  a 
lustie  Francklin  of  the  country  came  with  two  tall  men,  that  were  his 
sonnes,  of  good  lyniaments  and  comely  personage :  the  eldest  of 
these,  dooing  his  obeysance  to  the  king,  entered  the  lyst,  and  pre- 
sented himselfe  to  the  Norman,  who  straight  coapt  with  him,  and 
as  a  man  that  would  triumph  in  the  glorie  of  his  strength,  roused 
himselfe  with  such  furie,  that  not  onely  hee  gave  him  the  fall,  but 
killed  him  with  the  weight  of  his  corpulent  personage;  which  the 
younger  brother  seeing,  lepte  presently  into  the  place,  and  thirstie 
after  the  revenge,  assayled  the  Norman  with  such  valour,  that  at 
the  first  incounter  hee  brought  him  to  his  knees  :  which  repulst  so 
the  Norman,  that  recovering  himselfe,  feare  of  disgrace  doubling 
his  strength,  hee  stept  so  stearnely  to  the  yoong  Francklin,  that 
taking  him  up  in  his  armes  hee  threw  him  against  the  grounde  so 
violently,  that  hee  broake  his  necke,  and  so  ended  his  dayes  with  his 
brother.  .  .  . 

"  With  that  Rosader  vailed  bonnet  to  the  king,  and  lightly  leapt 
within  the  lists,  where  noting  more  the  companie  then  the  comba- 
tant, he  cast  his  eye  upon  the  troupe  of  ladies  that  glistered  there 
lyke  the  starres  of  heaven  ;  but  at  last  Love  willing  to  make 
him  as  amourous  as  he  was  valiant,  presented  him  with  the  sight  of 
Rosalynd,  whose  admirable  beauty  so  inveagled  the  eye  of  Rosader, 
that  forgetting  himselfe,  hee  stood  and  fedde  his  lookes  on  the 
favour  of  Rosalyndes  face  ;  which  shee  perceiving,  blusht,  which 
was  such  a  doubling  of  her  beauteous  excellence,  that  the  bashful 
redde  of  Aurora  at  the  sight  of  unacquainted  Phaeton  was  not  halfe  so 
glorious.  The  Normane,  seeing  this  young  gentleman  fettered  in 
the  lookes  of  the  ladyes,  drave  him  out  of  his  memento  with  a  shake 
by  the  shoulder.  Rosader  looking  backe  with  an  angrie  frowne,  as 
if  hee  had  been  wakened  from  some  pleasaunt  dreame,  discovered 


1^2  Notes 


to  all  by  the  furye  of  his  countenance  that  hee  was  a  man  of  some 
high  thoughts  :  but  when  they  all  noted  his  youth,  and  the  sweet- 
nesse  of  his  visage,  with  a  general  applause  of  favours,  they  grieved 
that  so  goodly  a  yoong  man  should  venture  in  so  base  an  action : 
but  seeing  it  were  to  his  dishonour  to  hinder  him  from  his  enter- 
prise, they  wisht  him  to  bee  graced  with  the  palme  of  victorie.  After 
Rosader  was  thus  called  out  of  his  memento  by  the  Norman,  he  roughly 
clapt  to  him  with  so  fierce  an  incounter,  that  they  both  fel  to  the 
ground,  and  with  the  violence  of  the  fal  were  forced  to  breathe : 
in  which  space  the  Norman  called  to  minde  by  all  tokens,  that  this 
was  hee  whome  Saladyne  had  appoynted  him  to  kil;  which 
conjecture,  made  him  stretch  every  limbe,  and  try  every  sinew, 
that  working  his  death  hee  might  recover  the  golde  which  so 
bountifully  was  promised  him.  On  the  contrary  part,  Rosader 
while  he  breathed  was  not  idle,  but  stil  cast  his  eye  upon  Rosalynde, 
who  to  incourage  him  with  a  favour,  lent  him  such  an  amorous 
looke,  as  might  have  made  the  most  coward  desperate:  which 
glance  of  Rosalynd  so  fiered  the  passionate  desires  of  Rosader,  that 
turning  to  the  Norman,  hee  ranne  upon  him  and  braved  him  with 
a  strong  encounter.  The  Norman  received  him  as  valiantly,  that 
there  was  a  sore  combat,  hard  to  judge  on  whose  side  fortune  would 
be  prodigal.  At  last  Rosader,  calling  to  minde  the  beautie  of  his 
new  mistresse,  the  fame  of  his  fathers  honours,  and  the  disgrace 
that  should  fal  to  his  house  by  his  misfortune,  rowsed  himselfe,  and 
threw  the  Norman  against  the  ground,  falling  uppon  his  chest  with 
so  willing  a  weight,  that  the  Norman  yielded  nature  her  due,  and 
Rosader  the  victorie." 

Scene  III.  —  Torismond  "  thought  to  banish  her  [Rosalynd]  from 
the  court :  for,  quoth  he  to  himselfe,  her  face  is  so  ful  of  favour, 
that  it  pleades  pittie  in  the  eye  of  every  man :  her  beauty  is  so 
heavenly  and  devine,  that  she  wil  prove  to  me  as  Helen  did  to 
Priam  :  some  one  of  the  peeres  wil  ayme  at  her  love,  and  the 
marriage,  and  then  in  his  wives  right  attempt  the  kingdome.  To 
prevent  therefore  had-I-wist  in  all  these  actions,  shee  tarryes  not 


Notes  153 

about  the  court,  but  shall,  as  an  exile,  eyther  wander  to  her  father, 
or  else  seeke  other  fortunes.  In  this  humour,  with  a  sterne  coun- 
tenance ful  of  wrath,  he  breathed  out  this  censure  unto  her  before 
the  peers,  that  charged  her  that  that  night  shee  were  not  scene 
about  the  court :  for,  quoth  he,  I  have  heard  of  thy  aspiring  speeches, 
and  intended  treasons.  This  doome  was  strange  unto  Rosalynd, 
and  presently  covred  with  the  shield  of  her  innocence,  she  boldly 
brake  out  in  reverent  tearms  to  have  cleared  herself ;  but 
Torismond  would  admit  of  no  reason,  nor  durst  his  lords  plead  for 
Rosalynd,  although  her  beauty  had  made  some  of  them  passionate, 
seeing  the  figure  of  wrath  pourtrayed  in  his  brow.  Standing  thus  all 
mute,  and  Rosalynd  amazed,  Alinda,  who  loved  her  more  than 
herself,  with  grief  in  her  hart  and  teares  in  her  eyes,  falling  down 
on  her  knees,  began  to  intreat  her  father  thus." 

[Then  follows  "Alindas  Oration  to  her  Father  in  Defence  of 
faire  Rosalynde,"  the  result  of  which  is  that  Alinda  is  included  in 
the  sentence  against  Rosalynd.] 

"  At  this  Rosalynd  began  to  comfort  her,  and  after  shee  had  wept 
a  fewe  kind  teeres  in  the  bosome  of  her  Alinda,  .  .  .  they  sat  them 
downe  to  consult  how  they  should  travel.  AHnda  grieved  at 
nothing  but  that  they  might  have  no  man  in  their  company,  saying 
it  would  bee  their  greatest  prejudice  in  that  two  women  went, 
wandring  without  either  guide  or  attendant.  Tush,  quoth  Rosalynd, 
art  thou  a  woman,  and  hast  not  a  sodeine  shift  to  prevent  a 
misfortune  ?  I,  thou  seest,  am  of  a  tall  stature,  and  would  very 
wel  become  the  person  and  apparel  of  a  page  :  thoushal  bee  mye 
mistresse,  and  I  wil  play  the  man  so  properly,  that,  trust  me,  in 
what  company  so  ever  I  come  I  wil  not  be  discovered.  I  wil  buy 
me  a  suite,  and  have  my  rapier  very  handsomly  at  my  side,  and  if 
any  knave  offer  wrong,  your  page  will  shew  him  the  poynt  of  his 
weapon.  At  this  AHnda  smiled,  and  upon  this  they  agreed,  and 
presently  gathered  up  al  their  jewels,  which  they  trussed  up  in  a 
casket,  and  Rosalynd  in  all  hast  provided  her  of  robes,  and  Alinda, 
from  her  royall  weedes,  put  herselfe  in  more  homelie  attire.    Thus 


154  Notes 


fitted  to  the  purpose,  away  goe  these  two  friends,  having  now 
changed  their  names,  Alinda  being  called  Aliena,  and  Rosalynd, 
Ganimede,  they  travelled  along  the  vineyardes,  and  by  many  by- 
waies,  at  last  got  to  the  forrest  side,  where  they  travelled  by  the 
space  of  two  or  three  dayes  without  seeing  anye  creature,  being 
often  in  danger  of  wilde  beasts,  and  payned  with  many  passionate 
sorrowes."  .  .  . 

[They  found  verses  written  on  the  trees,  but  they  were  the  "  pas- 
sion" of  Montanus,  the  Silvius  of  Shakespeare;  and  then  they  con- 
tinued their  journey  until  "  comming  into  a  faire  valley,  compassed 
with  mountaines,  whereon  grew  many  pleasaunt  shrubbes,  they  might 
descrie  where  two  flockes  of  sheepe  did  feed."] 

Act  II.  Scene  IV.  —  "Then,  looking  about,  they  might  per- 
ceive where  an  old  shepheard  [Montanus]  sate,  and  with  him 
a  yoong  swaine  [Coridon],  under  a  covert  most  pleasantly  scitu- 
ated.  .  .  . 

"  The  shepheards  having  thus  ended  their  Eglogue,^  Aliena  stept 
with  Ganimede  from  behind  the  thicket;  at  whose  sodayne  sight 
the  shepheards  arose,  and  Aliena  saluted  them  thus :  Shepheards, 
all  haile,  for  such  wee  deeme  you  by  your  flockes,  and  lovers,  good 
lucke,  for  such  you  seeme  by  your  passions,  our  eyes  being  wit- 
nesse  of  the  one,  and  our  eares  of  the  other.  Although  not  by  love, 
yet  by  fortune,  I  am  a  distressed  gentlewoman,  as  sorrowfull  as  you 
are  passionate,  and  as  full  of  woes  as  you  of  perplexed  thoughts. 
Wandring  this  way  in  a  forrest  unknown,  onely  I  and  my  page, 
wearied  with  travel,  would  faine  have  some  place  of  rest.  May  you 
appoint  us  any  place  of  quiet  harbour,  be  it  never  so  meane,  I  shall 
bee  thankfuU  to  you,  contented  in  my  selfe,  and  gratefull  to  whoso- 
ever shall  be  mine  host.  Coridon,  hearing  the  gentlewoman  speake 
so  courteously,  returned  her  mildly  and  reverently  this  answerc.  — 
Faire  mistresse,  wee  returne  you  as  hearty  a  welcome  as  you  gave  us 
a  courteous  salute.    A  shepheard  I  am,  and  this  a  lover,  as  watchful 

1  The  "  Eglogue  "  is  a  dialogue  of  thirty-four  stanzas  of  four  lines  each. 


Notes  155 


to  please  his  wench  as  to  feed  his  sheep :  ful  of  fancies,  and  there- 
fore, say  I,  full  of  follyes.  Exhort  him  I  may,  but  perswade  him  I 
cannot ;  for  love  admits  neither  of  counsaile  nor  reason.  But  leaving 
him  to  his  passions,  if  you  be  distrest,  I  am  sorrowfull  such  a  faire 
creature  is  crost  with  calamitie  :  pray  for  you  I  may,  but  releeve  you 
I  cannot.  Marry,  if  you  want  lodging,  if  you  vouch  to  shrowd 
your  selves  in  a  shepheards  cottage,  my  house  for  this  night  shall  be 
your  harbour.  Aliena  thankt  Coridon  greatly,  and  presently  sate 
her  downe  and  Ganimede  by  hir,  Coridon  looking  earnestly  upon 
her,  and  with  a  curious  survey  viewing  all  her  perfections  applauded, 
in  his  thought,  her  excellence,  and  pitying  her  distresse  was  desir- 
ous to  heare  the  cause  of  her  misfortunes,  began  to  question  with 
her  thus.  —  If  I  should  not,  faire  Damosell,  occasionate  offence,  or 
renew  your  griefs  by  rubbing  the  scar,  I  would  faine  crave  so  much 
favour  as  to  know  the  cause  of  your  misfortunes,  and  why,  and 
whither  you  wander  with  your  page  in  so  dangerous  forest  ?  Aliena, 
that  was  as  courteous  as  she  was  fayre,  made  this  replie.  Shepheard, 
a  friendly  demaund  ought  never  to  be  offensive,  and  questions  of 
curtesie  carry  priviledged  pardons  in  their  forheads.  Know,  there- 
fore, to  discover  my  fortunes  were  to  renew  my  sorrowes,  and  I 
should,  by  discoursing  my  mishaps,  but  rake  fire  out  of  the  cynders. 
Therefore  let  this  suffice,  gentle  shepheard  :  my  distress  is  as  great 
as  my  travaile  is  dangerous,  and  I  wander  in  this  forrest  to  light  on 
some  cotage  where  I  and  my  page  may  dwell :  for  I  meane  to  buy 
some  farme,  and  a  flocke  of  sheepe,  and  so  become  a  shepheard- 
esse,  meaning  to  live  low,  and  content  mee  with  a  countrey  life;  for 
I  have  heard  the  swaines  saye,  that  they  drunke  without  suspition, 
and  slept  without  care.  Marry,  mistress,  quoth  Coridon,  if  you 
meane  so  you  came  in  good  time,  for  my  landlord  intends  to  sell 
both  the  farme  I  tyll,  and  the  flocke  I  keepe,  and  cheape  you  may 
have  them  for  ready  money:  and  for  a  shepheards  life,  oh  mis- 
tres,  did  you  but  live  a  while  in  their  content,  you  would  say  the 
courl  were  rather  a  place  of  sorrow  then  of  solace.  Here,  mis- 
tresse,  shal  not  fortune  thwart  you,  but  in  mean  misfortunes,  as  the 


156 


Notes 


losse  of  a  few  sheepe,  which,  as  it  breedes  no  beggery,  so  it  can  bee 
no  extreame  prejudice,  the  next  yeare  may  mend  all  with  a  fresh  in- 
crease. Envy  stirres  not  us,  we  covet  not  to  climbe,  our  desires 
mount  not  above  our  degrees,  nor  our  thoughts  above  our  fortunes. 
Care  cannot  harbour  in  our  cottages,  nor  doe  our  homely  couches 
know  broken  slumbers :  as  wee  exceed  not  in  dyet,  so  we  have 
inough  to  satisfie  :  and,  mistresse,  I  have  so  much  Latin,  satis  est  quod 
sufficit.  By  my  troth,  shepheard,  quoth  Aliena,  thou  makest  mee 
in  love  with  thy  countrey  life,  and  therfore  send  for  thy  landslord, 
and  I  will  buy  thy  farme  and  thy  flocks,  and  thou  shalt  still  under 
me  bee  overseer  of  them  both :  onely  for  pleasure  sake  I  and  my 
page  will  serve  you,  lead  the  flocks  to  the  field  and  folde  them. 
Thus  will  I  live  quiet,  unknowne,  and  contented.  This  newes  so 
gladded  the  hart  of  Coridon,  that  he  should  not  be  put  out  of  his 
farme,  that  putting  off  his  shepheards  bonnet,  he  did  hir  all  the 
reverence  that  he  might.  But  all  this  while  sate  Montanus  in  a 
muse,  thinking  of  the  crueltie  of  his  Phoebe,  whom  he  wooed  long, 
but  was  in  no  hope  to  win.  Ganimede,  who  stil  had  the  remem- 
brance of  Rosader  in  his  thoughtes,  tooke  delight  to  see  the  poore 
shepheard  passionate,  laughing  at  love,  that  in  all  his  actions  was 
so  imperious.  At  last,  when  she  had  noted  his  teares  that  stole 
down  his  cheeks,  and  his  sighes  that  broke  from  the  center  of  his 
heart,  pittying  his  lament,  she  demanded  of  Coridon  why  the  yong 
shepheard  looked  so  sorrowful?  Oh  sir,  quoth  he,  the  boy  is  in 
love.  .  .  . 

"  With  this  they  were  at  Coridon's  cottage,  where  Montanus 
parted  from  them,  and  they  went  in  to  rest.  Aliena  and  Ganimede, 
glad  of  so  contented  a  shelter,  made  merry  with  the  poore  swaine; 
and  though  they  had  but  countrey  fare  and  course  lodging,  yet 
their  welcome  was  so  greate,  and  their  cares  so  little,  that  they 
counted  their  diet  delicate,  and  slept  as  soundly  as  if  they  had 
beene  in  the  court  of  Torismond.  The  next  morne  they  lay  long  in 
bed,  as  wearyed  with  the  toyle  of  unaccustomed  travaile ;  but  assoone 
as  they  got  up,  Aliena  resolved  there  to  set  up  her  rest,  and  by  the 


Notes  157 


helpe  of  Goridon  swapt  a  bargaine  with  his  landslord,  and  so  became 
mistres  of  the  farme  and  the  flocke,  her  selfe  putting  on  the  attyre 
of  a  shepherdesse,  and  Ganimede  of  a  yong  swaine ;  everye  day 
leading  foorth  her  flockes,  with  such  delight,  that  she  held  her 
exile  happy,  and  thoght  no  content  to  the  blisse  of  a  countrey 
cottage."  .  .  . 

[Meanwhile  Rosader,  driven  _frpm  home.,by;,iheJiaxshne5S  M„k^^^ 
brother,  takes  with  him  his  father's  old  servant,  Adam  Spencer,  and 
makes  for  the  forest  of  Arden.] 

Scene  VI.  —  "  BufKosader  and  Adam,  knowing  full  well  the  secret 
waies  that  led  through  the  vineyards,  stole  away  privily  through  the 
province  of  Bordeaux,  and  escaped  safe  to  the  forrest  of  Arden. 
Being  come  thether,  they  were  glad  they  had  so  good  a  harbour : 
but  fortune,  who  is  like  the  camelion,  variable  with  every  object,  and 
constant  in  nothing  but  inconstancie,  thought  to  make  them  myr- 
rours  of  her  mutabilitie,  and  therefore  still  crost  them  thus  contra- 
rily.  Thinking  still  to  passe  on  by  the  bywaies  to  get  to  Lions,  they 
chanced  on  a  path  that  led  into  the  thicke  of  the  forrest,  where 
they  wandred  five  or  sixe  dayes  without  meate,  that  they  were 
almost  famished,  finding  neither  shepheard  nor  cottage  to  relieve 
them  ;  and  hunger  growing  on  so  extreame,  Adam  Spencer,  being 
olde,  began  to  faint,  and  sitting  him  downe  on  a  hill,  and  looking 
about  him,  espied  where  Rosader  laye  as  feeble  and  as  ill  per- 
plexed :  which  sight  made  him  shedde  teares.   .  .  . 

"  As  he  was  readie  to  go  forward  in  his  passion,  he  looked  ear- 
nestly on  Rosader,  and  seeing  him  chaunge  colour,  hee  rose  up  and 
went  to  him,  and  holding  his  temples,  said,  What  cheere,  maister  ? 
though  all  faile,  let  not  the  heart  faint  :  the  courage  of  a  man  is 
shewd  in  the  resolution  of  his  death.  At  these  wordes  Rosader 
lifted  up  his  eye,  and  looking  on  Adam  Spencer,  began  to  weep. 
Ah,  Adam,  quoth  he,  I  sorrow  not  to  dye,  but  I  grieve  at  the  maner 
of  my  death.  Might  I  with  my  launce  encounter  the  enemy,  and 
so  die  in  the  field,  it  were  honour,  and  content :  might  I,  Adam, 
combate  with  some  wilde  beast,  and  perish  as  his  praie,  I  were  satis- 


158 


Notes 


fied  ;  but  to  die  with  hunger,  O,  Adam,  it  is  the  extreamest  of  all 
extreames  !  Maister,  quoth  he,  you  see  we  are  both  in  one  predica- 
ment, and  long  I  cannot  live  without  meate;  seeing  therefore  we 
can  finde  no  foode,  let  the  death  of  the  one  preserve  the  life  of  the 
other.  I  am  old,  and  overworne  with  age,  you  are  yoong,  and  are 
the  hope  of  many  honours  :  let  me  then  dye,  I  will  presently  cut 
my  veynes,  and,  maister,  with  the  warme  blood  relieve  your  fainting 
spirites :  sucke  on  that  til  I  ende,  and  you  be  comforted.  With  that 
Adam  Spencer  was  ready  to  pull  out  his  knife,  when  Rosader,  full 
of  courage,  though  verie  faint,  rose  up,  and  wisht  Adam  Spencer 
to  sit  there  til  his  returne  ;  for  my  mind  gives  me,  quoth  he,  that  I 
shall  bring  thee  meate.  With  that,  like  a  mad  man,  he  rose  up, 
and  raunged  up  and  downe  the  woods,  seeking  to  encounter  some 
wilde  beaste  with  his  rapier,  that  either  he  might  carry  his  friend 
Adam  food,  or  else  pledge  his  life  in  pawn  for  his  loyaltie. 

Scene  VII.  —  "It  chaunced  that  day,  that  Gerismond,  the  lawfull 
king  of  France  banished  by  Torismond,  who  with  a  lustie  crue  of 
outlawes  lived  in  that  forest,  that  day  in  honour  of  his  birth  made 
a  feast  to  all  his  bolde  yeomen,  and  frolickt  it  with  store  of  wine  and 
venison,  sitting  all  at  a  long  table  under  the  shadow  of  lymon  trees. 
To  that  place  by  chance  fortune  conducted  Rosader,  who  seeing 
such  a  crue  of  brave  men,  having  store  of  that  for  want  of  which 
hee  and  Adam  perished,  hee  stept  boldly  to  the  boords  end,  and 
saluted  the  company  thus :  — Whatsoever  thou  be  that  art  maister  of 
these  lustie  squiers,  I  salute  thee  as  graciously  as  a  man  in  extreame 
distresse  may :  know  that  I  and  a  fellow  friend  of  mine  are  here 
famished  in  the  forrest  for  want  of  food  :  perish  wee  must,  unlesse 
relieved  by  thy  favours.  Therefore,  if  thou  be  a  gentleman,  give 
meate  to  men,  and  to  such  men  as  are  everie  way  woorthie  of  life. 
Let  the  proudest  squire  that  sits  at  thy  table  rise  and  incounter  with 
mee  in  any  honorable  point  of  activitie  whatsoever,  and  if  hee  and 
thou  proove  me  not  a  man,  send  me  away  comfortlesse.  If  thou 
refuse  this,  as  a  niggard  of  thy  cates,  I  will  have  amongst  you  with 
my  sword  j    for  rather  wil  I  dye  valiantly,  then  perish  with  so 


Notes  159 


cowardly  an  extreame.  Gerismond,  looking  him  earnestly  in  the 
face,  and  seeing  so  proper  a  gentleman  in  so  bitter  a  passion,  was 
moved  with  so  great  pitie,  that  rising  from  the  table,  he  tooke  him 
by  the  hand  and  badde  him  welcome,  willing  him  to  sit  downe  in 
his  place,  and  in  his  roome  not  onely  to  eat  his  fill,  but  be  lorde 
of  the  feast.  Grammercy,  sir,  quoth  Rosader,  but  I  have  a  feeble 
friend  that  lyes  hereby  famished  almost  for  food,  aged  and  there- 
fore lesse  able  to  abide  the  extremitie  of  hunger  than  my  selfe,  and 
dishonour  it  were  for  me  to  taste  one  crumme,  before  I  made  him 
partner  of  my  fortunes  :  therefore  I  will  runne  and  fetch  him,  and 
then  I  will  gratefully  accept  of  your  proffer.  Away  hies  Rosader 
to  Adam  Spencer,  and  tels  him  the  newes,  who  was  glad  of  so  hap- 
pie  fortune,  but  so  feeble  he  was  that  he  could  not  go  ;  whereupon 
Rosader  got  him  up  on  his  backe,  and  brought  him  to  the  place. 
Which  when  Gerismond  and  his  men  saw,  they  greatly  applauded 
their  league  of  friendship  ;  and  Rosader,  having  Gerismond's  place 
assigned  him,  would  not  sit  there  himselfe,  but  set  downe  Adam 
Spencer.  .  .  . 

Act  III.  Scene  I.  —  "  The  flight  of  Rosader  came  to  the  eares  of 
Torismond,  who  hearing  that  Saladyne  was  sole  heire  of  the  landes 
of  Sir  John  of  Bourdeaux,  desirous  to  possesse  suche  fair  erevenewes, 
found  just  occasion  to  quarrell  with  Saladyne  about  the  wrongs  he 
proffered  to  his  brother ;  and  therefore,  dispatching  a  herehault,  he 
sent  for  Saladyne  in  all  poast  haste  :  who,  marvelling  what  the  mat- 
ter should  be,  began  to  examine  his  owne  conscience,  wherein  hee 
had  offended  his  highnesse  ;  but  imboldened  with  his  innocence,  he 
boldly  went  vnth  the  herehault  unto  the  court ;  where,  assoone  as 
hee  came,  hee  was  not  admitted  into  the  presence  of  the  king,  but 
presently  sent  to  prison.  ... 

"In  the  depth  of  his  passion,  hee  was  sent  for  to  the  king,  who, 
with  a  looke  that  threatened  death  entertained  him,  and  demaunded 
of  him  where  his  brother  was  ?  Saladyne  made  answer,  that  upon 
some  ryot  made  against  the  sherifife  of  the  shire,  he  was  fled  from 
Bordeaux,  but  he  knew  not  whither.     Nay,  villaine,  quoth  he,  I 


i6o  Notes 

have  heard  of  the  wronges  thou  hast  proffered  thy  brother,  since 
the  death  of  thy  father  and  by  thy  means  have  I  lost  a  most  brave 
and  resokite  chevaher.  Therefore,  in  justice  to  punish  thee,  I  spare 
thy  life  for  thy  father's  sake,  but  banish  thee  for  ever  from  the  court 
and  countrey  of  France  ;  and  see  thy  departure  be  within  tenne 
dayes,  els  trust  me  thou  shalt  loose  thy  head.  And  with  that  the 
king  flew  away  in  a  rage,  and  left  poore  Saladyne  greatly  perplexed ; 
who  grieving  at  his  exile,  yet  determined  to  bear  it  with  patience, 
and  in  penaunce  of  his  former  follies  to  travaile  abroade  in  every 
coast  till  he  had  found  out  his  brother  Rosader."  .  .  . 

[Meanwhile,  "  Rosader,  beeing  thus  preferred  to  the  place  of  a 
forrester  by  Gerismond,  rooted  out  the  remembrance  of  his  brothers 
unkindnes  by  continuall  exercise,  traversing  the  groves  and  wilde 
forrests.  .  .  .  Yet  whatsoever  he  did,  or  howsoever  he  walked, 
the  lively  image  of  Rosalynde  remained  in  memorie."  At  length 
he  meets  Ganimede  and  Aliena.] 

Scene  II.  —  "  Ganimede,  pittying  her  Rosader,  thinking  to  drive 
him  out  of  this  amorous  melancholy,  said,  that  now  the  sunne  was  in 
his  meridionall  heat,  and  that  it  was  high  noone,  therefore  wee  shep- 
heards  say,  tis  time  to  go  to  dinner;  for  the  sunne  and  our  stomackes 
are  shepheards  dials.  Therefore,  forrester,  if  thou  wilt  take  such  fare 
as  comes  out  of  our  homely  scrips,  welcome  shall  answere  whatso- 
ever thou  wantest  in  delicates.  Aliena  tooke  the  entertainment  by 
the  ende,  and  tolde  Rosader  hee  should  bee  her  guest.  He  thankt 
them  heartily,  and  sat  with  them  downe  to  dinner,  where  they  had 
such  cates  as  countrey  state  did  allow  them,  sawst  with  such  con- 
tent, and  such  sweete  prattle,  as  it  seemed  farre  more  sweet  than  all 
their  courtly  junkets.  Assone  as  they  had  taken  their  repast, 
Rosader,  giving  them  thankes  for  his  good  cheare,  would  have  been 
gone;  but  Ganimede,  that  was  loath  to  let  him  passe  out  of  her 
presence,  began  thus  :  Nay,  forrester,  quoth  she,  if  thy  busines  be 
not  the  greater,  seeing  thou  saist  thou  art  so  deeply  in  love,  let  me 
see  how  thou  canst  wooe :  I  will  represent  Rosalynde,  and  thou 
shalt  bee  as  thou  art,  Rosader.     See  in  some  amorous  eglogue,  how 


Notes  i6i 

if  Rosalyrid  were  present,  how  thou  couldst  court  her;  and  while 
we  sing  of  love,  Aliena  shall  tune  her  pipe  and  plaie  us  melodic^  . . . 

"  And  thereupon,  quoth  Aliena,  He  play  the  priest :  from  this 
daye  forth  Ganimede  shall  call  thee  husband,  and  thou  shalt  cal 
Ganimede  wife,  and  so  weele  have  a  marriage.  Content,  quoth 
Rosader,  and  laught.  Content,  quoth  Ganimede,  and  chaunged  as 
red  as  a  rose :  and  so  with  a  smile  and  a  blush,  they  made  up  this 
jesting  match,  that  after  proved  to  be  a  marriage  in  earnest, 
Rosader  full  little  thinking  hee  had  wooed  and  wonne  his  Rosa- 
lynde.  .  .  . 

Act  IV.  Scene  III.  —  "  All  this  while  did  poore  Saladyne,  ban- 
ished from  Bourdeahx  and  the  court  of  France,  by  Torismond,  wander 
up  and  downe  in  the  forrest  of  Arden,  thinking  to  get  to  Lyons,  and 
so  travail  through  Germany  into  Italic :  but  the  forrest  beeing  full 
of  by-pathes,  and  he  unskilfull  of  the  country  coast,  slipt  out  of  the 
way,  and  chaunced  up  into  the  desart,  not  farre  from  the  place 
where  Gerismond  was,  and  his  brother  Rosader.  Saladyne,  wearie 
with  wandring  up  and  downe,  and  hungry  with  long  fasting,  finding 
a  little  cave  by  the  side  of  a  thicket,  eating  such  fruite  as  the  for- 
rest did  affoord,  and  contenting  himselfe  with  such  drinke  as  nature 
had  provided  and  thirst  made  delicate,  after  his  repast  he  fell  into 
a  dead  sleepe.  As  thus  he  lay,  a  hungry  lyon  came  hunting  downe 
the  edge  of  the  grove  for  pray,  and  espying  Saladyne  began  to  ceaze 
upon  him :  but  seeing  he  lay  still  without  any  motion,  he  left  to 
touch  him,  for  that  lyons  hate  to  pray  on  dead  carkasses;  and  yet 
desirous  to  have  some  foode,  the  lyon  lay  downe,  and  watcht  to 
see  if  he  would  stirre.  While  thus  Saladyne  slept  secure,  fortune 
that  was  careful  of  her  champion  began  to  smile,  and  brought  it  so 
to  passe,  that  Rosader,  having  stricken  a  deere  that  but  slightly 
hurt  fled  through  the  thicket,  came  pacing  downe  by  the  grove 
with  a  boare-speare  in  his  hande  in  great  haste.     He  espyed  where 

1  "The  wooing  Eglogue  betwixt  Rosalynde  and  Rosader,"  which 
follows,  is  too  long  for  quotation,  and  besides,  Shakespeare  appears  to 
have  made  no  use  of  it. 

AS   YOU   LIKE   IT  —  II 


1 62  Notes 

a  man  lay  a  sleepe,  and  a  lyon  fast  by  him :  amazed  at  this  sight, 
as  he  stoode  gazing,  his  nose  on  the  sodaine  bledde,  which  made 
him  conjecture  it  was  some  friend  of  his.  Whereuppon  drawing 
more  nigh,  he  might  easily  discerne  his  visage,  perceived  by  his 
phisnomie  that  it  was  his  brother  Saladyne,  which  drave  Rosader 
into  a  deepe  passion,  as  a  man  perplexed  at  the  sight  of  so  un- 
expected a  chance,  marvelling  what  should  drive  his  brother  to 
traverse  those  secrete  desarts,  without  any  companie,  in  such  dis- 
tressed and  forlorne  sorte.  But  the  present  time  craved  no  such 
doubting  ambages,  for  he  must  eyther  resolve  to  hazard  his  life  for 
his  reliefe,  or  else  steale  away,  and  leave  him  to  the  crueltie  of  the 
lyon.  .  .  . 

"  With  that  his  brother  began  to  stirre,  and  the  lyon  to  rowse 
himselfe,  whereupon  Rosader  sodainly  charged  him  with  the  boare 
speare,  and  wounded  the  lyon  very  sore  at  the  first  stroke.  The 
beast  feeling  himselfe  to  have  a  mortall  hurt,  leapt  at  Rosader,  and 
with  his  pawes  gave  him  such  a  sore  pinch  on  the  brest,  that  he 
had  almost  fain;  yet  as  a  man  most  valiant,  in  whom  the  sparks  of 
Sir  John  of  Bourdeaux  remained,  he  recovered  himselfe,  and  in 
short  combat  slew  the  lion,  who  at  his  death  roared  so  lowd  that 
Saladyne  awaked,  and  starting  up,  was  amazed  at  the  sudden  sight 
of  so  monstrous  a  beast  lying  slaine  by  him,  and  so  sweet  a  gentle- 
man wounded. 

"  Saladyne  casting  up  his  eye,  and  noting  well  the  phisnomy  of 
the  forrester,  knew  that  it  was  his  brother  Rosader,  which  made 
him  so  bash  and  blush  at  the  first  meeting,  that  Rosader  was  faine 
to  recomfort  him,  which  he  did  in  such  sort,  that  hee  shewed  how 
highly  he  held  revenge  in  scorne.  Much  ado  there  was  betweene 
these  two  brethren,  Saladyne  in  craving  pardon,  and  Rosader  in 
forgiving  and  forgetting  all  former  injuries;  the  one  humble  and 
submisse,  the  other  milde  and  curteous;  Saladyne  penitent  and 
passionate,  Rosader  kynd  and  loving,  that  at  length  nature  working 
an  union  of  their  thoughts,  they  earnestly  embraced,  and  fell  from 
matters  of  unkindnesse,  to  talke  of  the  country  life,  which  Rosader 


Notes  163 


so  highly  commended,  that  his  brother  began  to  have  a  desire  to 
taste  of  that  homely  content.  In  this  humor  Rosader  conducted 
him  to  Gerismonds  lodge,  and  presented  his  brother  to  the  king, 
discoursing  the  whole  matter  how  all  had  hapned  betwixt  them.  .  .  . 
Assoone  as  they  had  taken  their  repast,  and  had  wel  dined,  Rosader 
tooke  his  brother  Saladyne  by  the  hand,  and  shewed  him  the 
pleasures  of  the  forrest,  and  what  content  they  enjoyed  in  that  mean 
estate.  Thus  for  two  or  three  dayes  he  walked  up  and  downe  with 
his  brother  to  shew  him  all  the  commodities  that  belonged  to  his 
walke;  during  which  time  hee  was  greatly  mist  of  his  Ganymede, 
who  mused  much  with  Aliena  what  should  become  of  their  forrester. 
Act  III,  Scene  V.  —  "  With  this  Ganimede  made  her  ready,  and 
went  into  the  fields  with  Aliena,  where -unfolding  their  flockes,  they 
sate  them  downe  under  an  olive  tree,  both  of  them  amorous,  and 
yet  diversely  affected,  Aliena  joying  in  the  excellence  of  Saladyne,^ 
and  Ganimede  sorowing  for  the  wounds  of  her  Rosader ;  not  quiet 
in  thought  till  shee  might  heare  of  his  health.  As  thus  both  of 
them  sate  in  their  dumpes,  they  might  espie  where  Coridon  came 
running  towards  them,  almost  out  of  breath  with  his  hast.  What 
nevves  with  you,  quoth  Aliena,  that  you  come  in  such  post?  Oh, 
mistres,  quoth  Coridon,  you  have  a  long  time  desired  to  see  Phoebe, 
the  faire  shepheardesse  whom  Montanus  loves  ;  so  now  if  you  please, 
you  and  Ganimede,  to  walk  with  mee  to  yonder  thicket,  there  shall 
you  see  Montanus  and  her  sitting  by  a  fountaine,  he  courting  her 
with  her  countrey  ditties,  and  she  as  coy  as  if  she  held  love  in  dis- 
daine.     The  newes  were  so  welcome  to  the  two  lovers,  that  up  they 

1  "  An  incident  in  the  novel,  which  accounts  for  the  sudden  falling  in 
love  of  Saladyne  and  Aliena,  is  altogether  omitted  by  Shakespeare.  A 
band  of  robbers  attempt  to  carry  off  Aliena,  Rosader  encounters  them 
single-handed,  but  is  wounded  and  almost  overpowered,  when  his  brother 
comes  to  the  rescue.  While  Ganimede  is  dressing  Rosader's  wounds, 
Aliena  and  Saladyne  indulge  in  some  '  quirkes  and  quiddities  of  love,' 
the  course  of  which  is  told  with  considerable  detail.  Aliena's  secret  is 
soon  extorted  from  her  by  Ganimede  "  (Wright). 


164 


Notes 


rose,  and  went  with  Coridon.  Assoone  as  they  drew  nigh  the  thicket, 
they  might  espie  where  Phoebe  sate,  the  fairest  shepherdesse  in  all 
Arden,  and  he  the  frolickest  swaine  in  the  whole  forrest,  she  in  a 
petticote  of  scarlet,  covered  with  a  green  mantle,  and  to  shrowd  her 
from  the  sunne,  a  chaplet  of  roses,  from  under  which  appeared  a 
face  full  of  natures  excellence,  and  two  such  eyes  as  might  have 
amated  a  greater  man  than  Montanus.  At  gaze  uppon  this  gor- 
geous nymph  sate  the  shepheard,  feeding  his  eyes  with  her  favours, 
wooing  with  such  piteous  lookes,  and  courting  with  such  deepe 
strained  sighs,  as  would  have  made  Diana  her  selfe  to  have  been 
compassionate.  .  .  .  Ah,  Phoebe,  quoth  he,  whereof  art  thou  made, 
that  thou  regardest  not  my  maladie?  ...  At  these  wordes  she 
fild  her  face  full  of  frowns,  and  made  him  this  short  and  sharpe 
reply. —  Importunate  shepheard,  whose  loves  are  lawlesse,  because 
restlesse,  are  thy  passions  so  extreame  that  thou  canst  not  conceale 
them  with  patience?  .  .  .  Wert  thou,  Montanus,  as  faire  as  Paris, 
as  hardy  as  Hector,  as  constant  as  Troylus,  as  loving  as  Lea;nder, 
Phoebe  could  not  love,  because  she  cannot  love  at  all :  and  therefore 
if  thou  pursue  me  with  Phoebus  I  must  flie  with  Daphne.  Gani- 
mede,  overhearing  all  these  passions  of  Montanus,  could  not  brooke 
the  crueltie  of  Phoebe,  but  starting  from  behind  the  bush  said ;  And 
if,  damzell,  you  fled  from  mee,  I  would  transforme  you  as  Daphne 
to  a  bay,  and  then  in  contempt  trample  your  branches  under  my  feet. 
Phoebe  at  this  sodaine  replye  was  amazed,  especially  when  shee  saw 
so  faire  a  swaine  as  Ganimede  ;  blushing  therefore,  she  would  have 
bene  gone,  but  that  he  held  her  by  the  hand,  and  prosecuted  his 
reply  thus:  What,  shepheardesse,  so  faire  and  so  cruell?  Disdaine 
beseemes  not  cottages,  nor  coynesse  maids;  for  either  they  be  con- 
demned to  be  too  proud,  or  too  froward  .  .  .  Love  while  thou  art 
yoong,  least  thou  be  disdained  when  thou  art  olde.  Beautie  nor 
time  cannot  be  recalde,  and  if  thou  love,  like  of  Montanus;  for  if 
his  desires  are  many,  so  his  deserts  are  great.  Phoebe  all  this  while 
gazed  on  the  perfection  of  Ganimede,  as  deeply  enamored  on  his 
perfection  as  Montanus  inveigled  with  hers.  .  .  . 


Notes  165 


Act  V.  Scene  II.  —  "I  am  glad,  quoth  Ganimede,^  you  looke 
into  your  own  faults,  and  see  where  your  shoo  wrings  you,. measuring 
now  the  pains  of  Montanus  by  your  owne  passions.  Truth,  q.  Phoebe, 
and  so  deeply  I  repent  me  of  my  frowardnesse  towards  the  shep- 
heard,  that  could  I  cease  to  love  Ganimede,  I  would  resolve  to  like 
Montanus.  What  if  I  can  with  reason  perswade  Phoebe  to  mislike 
of  Ganimede,  wil  she  than  favour  Montanus  ?  When  reason,  quoth 
she,  doth  quench  that  love  that  I  doe  owe  to  thee,  then  will  I  fancie 
him;  conditionally,  that  if  my  love  can  bee  supprest  with  no 
reason,  as  being  without  reason,  Ganimede  will  onely  wed  himselfe 
to  Phoebe.  I  graunt  it,  faire  shepheardesse,  quoth  he;  and  to  feed 
thee  M'ith  the  sweetnesse  of  hope,  this  resolve  on :  I  wil  never 
marry  my  selfe  to  woman  but  unto  thy  selfe.  .  .  .  Ganimede  tooke 
his  leave  of  Phoebe  and  departed,  leaving  her  a  contented  woman, 
and  Montanus  highly  pleased.  ...  As  she  came  on  the  plaines, 
shee  might  espy  where  Rosader  and  Saladyne  sat  with  Aliena 
under  the  shade.  ...  I  had  not  gone  abroad  so  soone,  quoth 
Rosader,  but  that  I  am  bidden  to  a  marriage,  which,  on  Sunday 
next,  must  bee  solemnpnized  betweene  my  brother  and  Aliena.  I 
see  well  where  love  leads  delay  is  loathsome,  and  that  small  wooing 
serves  where  both  the  parties  are  willing.  Truth,  quoth  Ganimede; 
but  what  a  happy  day  should  it  be,  if  Rosader  that  day  might  be 
married  to  Rosalynd.  Ah,  good  Ganimede,  quoth  he,  by  naming 
Rosalynd,  renue  not  my  sorrowes;  for  the  thought  of  her  perfec- 
tions is  the  thrall  of  my  miseries.  Tush,  bee  of  good  cheare,  man, 
quoth  Ganimede :  I  have  a  friend  that  is  deeply  experienst  in 
negromancy  and  magicke;  what  art  can  do  shall  be  acted  for  thine 
advantage.  I  wil  cause  him  to  bring  in  Rosalynde,  if  either  France 
or  any  bordring  nation  harbour  her;  and  upon  that  take  the  faith 
of  a  yoong  shepheard.  .  .  . 

Scene  IV.  —  "In  these  humors  the  weeke  went  away,  that  at 
last  Sunday  came.  ...     As  they  were  thus  drinking  and  ready  to 

1  This  is  at  an  interview  with  Phoebe  after  the  latter  has  sent  a  letter 
to  Ganimede  by  Montanus. 


1 66  Notes 

go  to  church,  came  in  Montanus,  apparalled  all  in  tawny,  to  signifie 
that  he  was  forsaken :  on  his  head  hee  wore  a  garland  of  willow, 
his  bottle  hanged  by  his  side,  whereon  was  painted  dispaire,  and 
on  his  sheephooke  hung  two  sonnets,  as  labels  of  his  loves  and 
fortunes.  .  .  .  Gerismond,  desirous  to  prosecute  the  ende  of  these 
passions,  called  in  Ganimede,  who,  knowing  the  case,  came  in 
graced  with  such  a  blush,  as  beautified  the  christall  of  his  face  with 
a  ruddie  brightnesse.  The  king  noting  well  the  phisnomy  of 
Ganimede,  began  by  his  favour  to  cal  to  mind  the  face  of  his  Rosa- 
lynd,  and  with  that  fetcht  a  deepe  sigh.  Rosader,  that  was  passing 
familiar  with  Gerismond,  demanded  of  him  why  he  sighed  so  sore  ? 
Because,  Rosader,  quoth  hee,  the  favour  of  Ganimede  puts  mee  in 
minde  of  Rosalynde.  At  this  word  Rosader  sighed  so  deeply,  as 
though  his  heart  would  have  burst.  And  whats  the  matter,  quoth 
Gerismond,  that  you  quite  mee  with  such  a  sigh  ?  Pardon  me,  sir, 
quoth  Rosader,  because  I  love  none  but  Rosalynd.  And  upon  that 
condition,  quoth  Gerismond,  that  Rosalynd  were  here,  I  would  this 
day  make  up  a  marriage  betwixt  her  and  thee.  At  this  Aliena 
turnd  her  head  and  smilde  upon  Ganimede,  and  shee  could  scarce 
keep  countenance.  Yet  shee  salved  all  with  secrecie;  and  Geris- 
mond, to  drive  away  his  dumpes,  questioned  with  Ganimede,  what 
the  reason  was  he  regarded  not  Phoebes  love,  seeing  she  was  as 
faire  as  the  wanton  that  brought  Troy  to  ruine  ?  Ganimede  mildly 
answered,  If  I  shuld  affect  the  faire  Phoebe,  I  should  offer  poore 
Montanus  great  wrong  to  winne  that  from  him  in  a  moment,  that 
hee  hath  labored  for  so  many  monthes.  Yet  have  I  promised  to 
the  bewtiful  shepheardesse  to  wed  my  selfe  never  to  woman  except 
unto  her;  but  with  this  promise,  that  if  I  can  by  reason  suppresse 
Phoebes  love  towards  me,  she  shall  like  of  none  but  of  Montanus. 
To  that,  quoth  Phoebe,  I  stand;  for  my  love  is  so  far  beyond  reason, 
as  wil  admit  no  persuasion  of  reason.  For  justice,  quoth  he,  I 
appeale  to  Gerismond:  and  to  his  censure  wil  I  stand,  quoth 
Phoebe.  And  in  your  victory,  quoth  Montanus,  stands  the  hazard 
of  my  fortunes,  for  if  Ganimede  go  away  with  conquest,  Montanus 


Notes  167 


is  in  conceit  loves  monarch :  if  Phoebe  winne,  then  am  I  in  effect 
most  miserable.  We  wil  see  this  controversie,  quoth  Gerismond, 
and  then  we  will  to  church :  therefore,  Ganimede,  let  us  heare  your 
argument.  Nay,  pardon  my  absence  a  while,  quoth  shee,  and  you 
shall  see  one  in  store.  In  went  Ganimede  and  drest  her  self  in 
womans  attire,  having  on  a  gowne  of  greene,  with  a  kirtle  of  rich 
sandall,  so  quaint,  that  she  seemed  Diana  triumphing  in  the  for- 
rest :  upon  her  head  she  wore  a  chaplet  of  roses,  which  gave  her 
such  a  grace  that  she  looked  like  Flora  pearkt  in  the  pride  of  all 
her  floures.  Thus  attired  came  Rosalind  in,  and  presented  hir  self 
at  hir  fathers  feete,  with  her  eyes  full  of  teares,  craving  his  blessing, 
and  discoursing  unto  him  all  her  fortunes,  how  shee  was  banished 
by  Torismond,  and  how  ever  since  she  lived  in  that  country  dis- 
guised. ...  ^ 

"  While  every  one  was  amazed,  .  .  .  Coridon  came  skipping  in, 
and  told  them  that  the  priest  was  at  church,  and  tarried  for  their 
comming.  With  that  Gerismond  led  the  way,  and  the  rest  followed; 
where  to  the  admiration  of  all  the  countrey  swains  in  Arden,  their 
marriages  were  solemnly  solemnized."  ... 

It  will  be  seen,  that  while  the  Poet  followed  the  novel  closely  in 
the  main  incidents  of  his  plot,  the  characterization  is  exclusively 
his  own.  The  personages  common  to  the  novel  and  the  play  are 
as  truly  new  creations  in  the  latter  as  Jaques,  Touchstone,  and 
Audrey,  who  have  no  place  in  the  former.  Even  the  deviations  in 
the  conduct  of  the  story,  as  Knight  remarks,  "furnish  a  most 
remarkable  example  of  the  wonderful  superiority  of  his  art  as  com- 
pared with  the  art  of  other  men."  We  cannot  discuss  these  in 
detail;  the  quotations  we  have  given  from  the  novel  will  enable 
the  reader  to  examine  them  for  himself.^ 

1  Compare  what  Campbell  says  in  his  introduction  to  the  play :  "  The 
plot  of  this  delicious  comedy  was  taken  by  our  Poet  from  Lodge's 
'  Rosalynde,  or  Euphues'  Golden  Legacye.'  Some  of  Lodge's  incidents 
are  judiciously  omitted,  but  the  greater  part  are  preserved  —  the  wrest- 
ling scene,  the  flight  of  the  two  ladies  into  the  forest  of  Arden,  the  meet- 


1 68  Notes 

I  may  add  that  the  character  of  Adam  has  a  peculiar  interest  from 
the  fact  that,  according  to  a  tradition  current  in  the  eighteenth  cen- 
tury, the  part  was  performed  by  Shakespeare.  Steevens  gives  the 
following  extract  from  Oldys's  manuscript  collections  for  a  life  of 
the  poet  :  — 

"  One  of  Shakespeare's  younger  brothers,  who  lived  to  a  good  old 
age,  even  some  years,  as  I  compute,  after  the  restoration  of 
K.  Charles  11. ,  would  in  his  younger  days  come  to  London  to  visit 
his  brother  Will^  as  he  called  him,  and  be  a  spectator  of  him  as  an 
actor  in  some  of  his  own  plays.  This  custom,  as  his  brother's  fame 
enlarged,  and  his  dramatic  entertainments  grew  the  greatest  support 
of  our  principal,  if  not  of  all  our  theatres,  he  continued  it  seems  so 
long  after  his  brother's  death,  as  even  to  the  latter  end  of  his  own 
life.  The  curiosity  at  this  time  of  the  most  noted  actors  [exciting 
them]  to  learn  something  from  him  of  his  brother,  &c.,  they  justly 
held  him  in  the  highest  veneration.  And  it  may  be  well  believed, 
as  there  was  besides  a  kinsman  and  descendant  of  the  family,  who 
was  then  a  celebrated  actor  ^  among  them,  this  opportunity  made 
them  greedily  inquisitive  into  every  little  circumstance,  more  espe- 

ing  there  of  Rosalind  with  her  father  and  mother,  and  the  whole  happy 
termination  of  the  plot,  are  found  in  the  prose  romance.  Even  the 
names  of  the  personages  are  but  slightly  changed ;  for  Lodge's  Rosa- 
lind, in  her  male  attire,  calls  herself  Ganymede,  and  her  cousin,  as  a 
shepherdess,  is  named  Aliena.  But  never  was  the  prolixity  and  ped- 
antry of  a  prosaic  narrative  transmuted  by  genius  into  such  magical 
poetry.  In  the  days  of  James  L,  George  Heriot,  the  Edinburgh  mer- 
chant who  built  a  hospital  still  bearing  his  name,  is  said  to  have  made 
his  fortune  by  purchasing  for  a  trifle  a  quantity  of  sand  that  had  been 
brought  as  ballast  by  a  ship  from  Africa.  As  it  was  dry,  he  suspected 
from  its  weight  that  it  contained  gold,  and  he  succeeded  in  filtering  a 
treasure  from  it.  Shakespeare,  like  Heriot,  took  the  dry  and  heavy 
sand  of  Lodge,  and  made  gold  out  of  it." 

1  Charles  Hart,  who  was  perhaps  a  grandson  of  Shakespeare's  sister 
Joan. 


Notes  169 

daily  in  his  dramatick  character,  which  his  brother  could  relate  of 
him.  But  he,  it  seems,  was  so  stricken  in  years,  and  possibly  his 
memory  so  weakened  with  infirmities  (which  might  make  him  the 
easier  pass  for  a  man  of  weak  intellects),  that  he  could  give  them 
but  little  light  into  their  enquiries  ;  and  all  that  could  be  recollected 
from  him  of  his  brother  Wi//,  in  that  station  was,  the  faint,  general, 
and  almost  lost  ideas  he  had  of  having  once  seen  him  act  a  part  in 
one  of  his  own  comedies,  wherein  being  to  personate  a  decrepit  old 
man,  he  wore  a  long  beard,  and  appeared  so  weak  and  drooping 
and  unable  to  walk,  that  he  was  forced  to  be  supported  and  carried 
by  another  person  to  a  table,  at  which  he  was  seated  among  some 
company,  who  were  eating,  and  one  of  them  sung  a  song." 

Capell  also  has  the  following :  — 

"A  traditional  story  was  current  some  years  ago  about 
Stratford,  —  that  a  very  old  man  of  that  place,  —  of  weak  intellects, 
but  yet  related  to  Shakespeare,  —  being  ask'd  by  some  of  his 
neighbours,  what  he  remember'd  about  him  ;  answer'd,  —  that  he 
saw  him  once  brought  on  the  stage  upon  another  man's  back  ; 
which  answer  was  apply'd  by  the  hearers,  to  his  having  seen  him 
perform  in  this  scene  the  part  of  Adam." 

This  story  came  to  Capell  from  Mr.  Thomas  Jones,  of  Tarbick,  in 
Worcestershire  ;  and  Malone  suggests  that  he  may  have  heard  it 
from  Richard  Quiney  (who  died  in  1656,  at  the  age  of  69)  or  from 
Thomas  Quiney,  Shakespeare's  son-in-law  (who  lived  till  about 
1663,  and  who  was  27  years  old  when  the  poet  died),  or  from  one 
of  the  Hathaways. 

ACT  I 

Scene  I.  —  i.  As  I  remember,  etc.  We  follow  the  folio  here,  as 
most  of  the  editors  do,  though  some  have  thought  it  necessary  to 
mend  the  grammar  by  reading  "  upon  this  fashion  :  /ze  bequeathed," 
etc.  As  here  pointed,  beqiteathed  is  a  participle,  and  charged  may 
be  considered  the  same. 


lyo  Notes  [Act  i 

2.  Poor  a.  This  transposition  of  the  article  is  akin  to  that  still 
allowed  after  how  and  so.  In  A.  and  C.  v.  2.  236,  we  have  "  What 
poor  an  instrument." 

3.  On  his  blessing.  On  is  often  so  used  in  asseverations.  Cf. 
T.  of  A.  iii.  5.  %*]:   "On  height  of  our  displeasure." 

4.  To  breed  =\.o  bring  up,  educate;  as  in  10  and  107  below.  Cf. 
our  present  use  in  well-bred,  good  breeding,  etc. 

5.  At  school.  That  is,  at  the  university.  Cf.  Ham.'\.  2.  113: 
"going  back  to  school  in  Wittenberg."  On  goldenly,  cf.  Macb.  i. 
7"  ZZ  '•  "  golden  opinions."  Profit  =  proficiency.  Cf.  the  use  of 
the  verb  in  i  Jlen.  IV.  iii.  i.  166:  — 

"  Exceedingly  well  read,  and  profited 
In  strange  concealments,"  etc. 

8.  Stays.  Detains.  Cf.  i.  3.  66  below:  "we  stay'd  her  for  your 
sake." 

12.  Manage.     The  training  of  a  horse  (Fr.  manege^.     Cf.  Rich. 

II.  iii.  3.  179,  etc. 

17.  Countenance.  Bearing,  behaviour.  Cf.  i  Hen.  IV.  \.  i.  69: 
"  By  unkind  usage,  dangerous  countenance."  Seems  =  seems  as  if 
it  wished. 

18.  Hinds.  Menials,  servants;  as  in  III.  W.  iii.  5.  99  and 
P.  and  J.  i.  7.  73.  Elsewhere  the  word  =  boor,  peasant ;  as  in 
L.  L.  L.  i.  2.  123,  etc. 

19.  Mines.  Undermines,  seeks  to  destroy.  Cf.  Ham.  iii.  4.  148: 
"  rank  corruption,  mining  all  within,"  etc. 

22.  MtUiny.  Rebel.  S.  also  uses  the  form  mutine,  both  verb 
and  noun ;   as  in  Ham.  iii.  4.  2>2„  v.  2.  6,  and  K.  John,  ii.  i.  378. 

28.  What  w,ake  you  here  ?  What  do  you  here  ?  as  in  ii.  3.  4  and 
iii.  2.  217  below.  The  phrase  is  very  common,  and  is  quibbled  upon 
in  L.  L.  L.  iv.  3,  190  fol.  and  in  Rich.  III.  i.  3.  164  fol. 

32.  Marry.  Originally  a  mode  of  swearing  by  the  Virgin  ;  but 
its  derivation  had  come  to  be  forgotten  in  the  time  of  S. 

35.   Be  naught  awhile.     A  petty  oath,  equivalent  to  a  mischief 


Scene  I]  Notes  171 

on  you.      Many  examples  of  the   phrase  might  be  quoted  from 
writers  of  the  time. 

38.  What  prodigal  portion,  etc.  The  allusion  to  the  story  of  the 
prodigal  (^Luke,  xv.)  is  found  several  times  in  S.  Cf.  W.  T.  iv.  3. 
103 :  "  a  motion  of  the  Prodigal  Son "  (that  is,  a  puppet-show, 
illustrating  the  story);  and  2  Hen.  IV.  ii.  i.  157:  "the  story  of 
the  Prodigal,  or  the  German  hunting  in  water-work"  (where  the 
context  shows  that  it  was  used  in  tapestries  and  hangings).  See 
also  T.  G.  of  V,  ii.  3.  4,  M.  of  V.  ii.  6.  17,  etc. 

43.  Hi7?i.  Often  put,  by  attraction  to  whom  understood,  for  he 
whom.  Cf.  A.  and  C.  iii.  i.  15  :  "Acquire  too  high  a  fame  when 
him  we  serve  's  away,"  etc. 

44.  In  the  gentle  condition  of  blood.  "  On  any  kindly  view  of 
relationship." 

50.  Your  coming,  etc.  That  is,  you  are  more  closely  and  di- 
rectly the  representative  of  his  honours,  and  therefore  entitled  to 
the  respect  due  to  him.  Whiter  thinks  that  Orlando  uses  reverence 
in  an  ironical  sense,  and  means  to  say  that  "  his  brother,  by  coming 
before  him,  is  nearer  to  a  respectable  and  venerable  elder  of  a  fam- 
ily." This  interpretation  is  perhaps  favoured  by  Oliver's  evident 
anger  at  his  brother's  words. 

52.  What,  boy !  Oliver  attempts  to  strike  him,  and  Orlando  in 
return  seizes  his  brother  by  the  throat. 

54.  Young.  Raw,  inexperienced.  Cf.  Lodge  (p.  150):  "I 
am  yongest  to  performe  any  martial  exploytes,"  etc.  See  also 
Macb.  iii.  4.  144:  "We  are  yet  but  young  in  deed."  Too  young 
is  used  in  a  contrary  sense  in  Much  Ado,  v.  i.  119. 

58.  Villain.  Oliver  uses  the  word  in  the  present  sense  ;  Orlando, 
with  a  play  upon  this  and  the  old  meaning  of  serf  or  base-born  fel- 
low. Cf.  lear,  iii.  7.  78,  etc.  The  word  was  sometimes  used  as  a 
familiar  form  of  address,  and  even  as  a  term  of  endearment ;  as 
in  C.  of  E.  i.  2.  19,  W.  T.  i.  2.  136,  etc.  In  T.  tV.  ii.  5.  16  and 
T.  and  C.  iii.  2,  35  it  is  applied  to  women  in  this  sense. 

71.    Such  exercises,  etc.     Cf.  T.  G.  of  V.  i.  3.  32  :  — 


172  Notes  [Act  1 

"  And  be  in  eye  of  every  exercise 
Worthy  his  youth  and  nobleness  of  birth." 

72.  AUotery.     Allotment,  portion.     S.  uses  the  word  only  here. 

73.  Go  buy.  Go  to  buy  ;  a  very  common  ellipsis  with  go  in  S. 
Cf.  i.  2.  241  below. 

82.  My  teeth.  For  the  use  of  the  same  figure  in  the  reply  to  it, 
cf.  M.  of  V.  iii.  3.  6 :  "  Thou  call'dst  me  dog  before  thou  hadst  a 
cause ;   but,  since  I  am  a  dog,  beware  my  fangs." 

Z"}^.    Spoke.     S.  uses  both  spoke  and  spoken  as  the  participle. 

84.  Grow  upon  me.  Get  the  better  of  me,  get  the  upper  hand 
of  me.  Cf. y.  C.  ii.  i.  107:  "growing  on  the  south"  (that  is,  gain- 
ing on  it,  tending  that  way) ;  Hen.  V.  iii.  3-  55  :  "  sickness  grow- 
ing Upon  our  soldiers,"  etc. 

85.  Physic  your  rankness.  Check  this  rank  growth  of  your  in- 
solence. 

88.  Wrestler.  "  Wrastler  "  in  the  folio  here  and  elsewhere  ;  but 
the  other  spelling  was  also  used  in  the  time  of  S.  The  former  indi- 
cates the  pronunciation,  which  is  still  a  vulgar  one  in  this  country. 

90.  So  please  you.  If  it  please  you ;  of  which  our  "  if  you 
please"  is  a  corruption.  Cf.  Sonn.  136.  ii:  "so  it  please  thee," 
etc. 

102.  Good  leave.  Full  permission.  Cf.  M.  of  V.  iii.  2.  326  and 
I  Hen.  IV.  i.  3.  20. 

109.  Died  to  stay  behind.  This  "  indefinite  "  use  of  the  infinitive 
is  very  common  in  S. 

113.  The  forest  of  Arden.  The  Forest  of  Ardennes  was  in  the 
northeast  of  France,  "  between  the  Meuse  and  the  Moselle  ";  but  it 
is  not  necessary  to  suppose  that  the  poet  had  this  fact  in  mind.  He 
took  the  scene  from  Lodge's  novel,  lions  and  all,  and  did  not  trouble 
himself  about  its  geography.  Knight  has  well  said :  "  We  most 
heartily  wish  that  the  critics  would  allow  poetry  to  have  its  own 
geography.  We  do  not  want  to  know  that  Bohemia  has  no  sea- 
board ;  we  do  7iot  wish  to  have  the  island  of  Sycorax  defined  on 
the  map ;  we  do  not  require  that  our  Forest  of  Arden  should  be 


Scene  I]  Notes  173 

the  Arduenna  Sylva  of  Caesar  and  Tacitus."  There  was  also  a 
Forest  of  Arden  in  Warwickshire.  Drayton,  in  his  Matilda,  1594, 
speaks  of  " sweet  Arden's  nightingales  ";  and  again,  in  the  Idea:  — 

"  Where  nightingales  in  Arden  sit  and  sing, 
Amongst  the  daintie  dew-impearled  flowers." 

114.  A  many.  Cf.  A.  Y.  L.  i.  i.  121,  K.  John,  iv.  2.  199,  etc. 
The  expression  is  still  occasionally  used  in  poetry ;  as  by  Tennyson 
in  The  Miller's  Daughter :  "They  have  not  shed  a  many  tears," 
etc.  Merry  Men  was  a  common  term  for  the  followers  of  Robin 
Hood  dind  other  outlaws. 

117.  Fleet.  Not  elsewhere  used  transitively  by  S.  The  intran- 
sitive verb  occurs  often  ;  as  in  Sonn.  ig.  5,  M.  of  V.  iii.  2.  108,  iv. 
I.  135,  K.John,  ii.  i.  285,  etc.     The  golden  worlds  the  golden  age. 

119.  What.  Often  so  used,  "superfluously  introducing  a  ques- 
tion."    Cf.  J.  C.  iv.  I.  10,  Ham.  \.  i.  ig,  T.  of  S.  iv.  3.  59,  etc. 

126.    Shall.     Must,  will  have  to. 

130.  Withal.     With  this,  with  it.     Cf.  i.  2.  26  and  ii.  7.  48  below. 

131.  Intendment.  Intention,  purpose.  Cf.  Hen.  V.  i.  2.  144: 
"  the  main  intendment  of  the  Scot." 

138.  By  underhand  means.     By  indirect  means. 

139.  It  is.  Used  contemptuously;  as  in  M.  of  V.  iii.  3.  18 :  "It 
is  the  most  impenetrable  cur;"  and  Hen.  V.  iii.  6.  71 :  "Why,  't  is 
a  gull,  a  fool,"  etc.  In  Macb.  i.  4.  58  ("  It  is  a  peerless  kinsman  ") 
the  familiarity  is  affectionate.     See  also  iii.  5.  112  below. 

141.  Emulator.  Used  by  S.  only  here.  For  emulation  —  envy, 
jealousy,  cf.  J.  C.  ii.  3.  14,  etc.  So  emulous  =  envious;  as  in  T. 
and  C.  ii.  3.  79,  242,  etc. 

142.  Contriver.  Plotter;  as  in  T.  A.  iv.  i.  36,  J.  C.  ii.  i.  158, 
and  Macb.  iii.  5.  7.  Contrive  is  used  in  the  same  bad  sense;  as  in 
iv.  3.  134  below.  Cf.  Hen.  V.'w.  \.  \']\,  J.  C.  ii.  3.  16,  Ham.  iv.  7. 
136,  etc.  The  adjective  natural  did  not  formerly  imply,  as  now, 
illegitimacy. 

143.  Had  as  lief.     Good  old  English,  but  condemned  by  some 


174  Notes  [Act  I 

modern  grammar-mongers  because  they  cannot  "  parse  "  it.  Lief'xs, 
the  Anglo-Saxon  leof,  dear.  The  comparative  liefer  or  lever  and 
the  superlative  liefest  are  common  in  our  early  vi^riters.  S.  does  not 
use  liefer,  but  has  liefest  in  2  Hen.  VI.  iii.  I.  164:  "my  liefest 
liege."  Cf.  Spenser,  F,  Q.  iii.  2.  33  :  *'  my  liefest  liefe  "  (my  dearest 
love).  Lief  at  first  =  dear,  beloved,  pleasing,  came  to  mean 
willing.  From  this  the  transition  is  easy  to  the  adverbial  use  = 
willingly,  as  in  had  as  lief  =  would  as  willingly.  The  forms  liefsind 
lieve  are  used  interchangeably  in  the  folios.  The  latter  is  not  un- 
known in  good  writers  of  recent  date.  Matzner  quotes  Sheridan : 
"  I  had  as  lieve  be  shot." 

144.  Thou  wert  best.  Another  old  English  idiom,  now  obsolete. 
Cf.  y.  C.  iii.  3.  12:  "Ay,  and  truly,  you  were  best,"  etc.  The  pro- 
noun was  originally  a  dative  {to  you  it  were  best),  but  came  to  be 
regarded  as  a  nominative;  as  in  if  you  please  =  if  it  please  you  (see 
on  90  above). 

147.  Practise.  Use  stratagems,  plot.  Cf.  2  Hen.  VI.  ii.  i.  171 : 
"Have  practis'd  dangerously  against  your  state."  Elsewhere  it  is 
followed  by  on  or  up07i ;  as  in  Much  Ado,  ii.  I.  398,  Lear,  iii.  2.  57, 
0th.  ii.  I.  319,  etc. 

152.  Brotherly.  An  adverb,  as  in  the  only  other  instances  of  the 
word  in  S. :  3  Hen.  VI.  iv.  3.  38,  and  Cymb.  iv.  2.  158. 

153.  Anatomize.  Used  literally  (=  dissect)  in  Lear,  iii.  6.  80; 
figuratively  (as  here  and  in  ii.  7.  56  below)  in  R.  of  L.  1450,^.  W. 
iv-  3-  37>  etc. 

160.  Gamester.  A  frolicsome  fellow;  as  in  T.  of  S.  ii,  i.  402 
and  Hen.  VIII.  i.  4.  45.  It  is  here  used  contemptuously,  and  per- 
haps with  some  reference  to  Orlando's  ambition  to  try  his  luck  in 
the  wrestling.  It  means  a  gambler  in  L.  L.  L.  i.  2.  44,  Hen.  V.  iii. 
6.  119,  etc.;   and  a  harlot  in  A.  W.  v.  3.  188  and  Per.  iv.  6.  81. 

162.  Than  he.  S.  often  confounds  the  inflections  of  the  per- 
sonal and  other  pronouns.     Cf.  lines  1 7  and  268  of  the  next  scene. 

163.  Full  of  noble  device.  Of  noble  conceptions  and  aims.  S. 
often  makes  his  villains  (like  lago,  Edmund,  Macbeth,  Antonio  in 


Scene  II]  Notes  175 

The  Tempest,  and  others)  pay  an  honest  tribute  to  the  men  against 
whom  they  are  plotting. 

164.    Sorts.     Ranks,  classes;   as  often. 

166.  Misprised.  Undervalued,  slighted.  Cf.  i.  2.  181  below,  and 
A.  W.  iii.  2.  33;   also  the  noun  misprision  in  A.   W.  ii,  3.  159. 

168.  Kindle.  Incite.  Cf.  enkindle  in  Macb.  i.  3.  121.  Thither 
=  thereto.  On  go  about  =  set  about,  undertake,  cf.  Much  Ado,  i. 
3.  II,  M.  for  M.  iii.  2.  215,  Heit.  V.  iv.  i.  212,  etc.  See  also 
Romans,  x.  3,  etc. 

Scene  II.  —  The  name  of  Rosalind,  here  taken  by  S.  from  Lodge, 
was  a  favourite  one  with  our  early  poets.  Rosaline  (in  L.  L.  Z.)  is 
another  form  of  it. 

I.  Sweet  my  coz.  Cf.  y.  C.  ii.  i.  25  :  "  dear  my  lord,"  etc.  Coz 
was  the  common  abbreviation  of  cousin. 

4.  Yet  I  were  merrier,  I  were  yet  merrier.  Yet  and  only  are 
often  thus  transposed  by  Elizabethan  writers.  Cf.  Hen.  VIII.  ii.  4. 
204 :  "  full  sick,  and  yet  not  well ; "  which,  as  it  stands,  is  nonsen- 
sical. 

6.  Learn.  Teach;  but  always  with  the  object  expressed.  Cf. 
R.  and  J.  iii.  2.  12:  "learn  me  how  to  love;"  Cymb.  i.  5.  12: 
"  learn'd  me  how  to  make  perfumes,"  etc. 

10.   So.     For  so  =  if,  cf.  i.  i.  90  above. 

13.    Tempered.     Conditioned.     Cf.  T.  and  C.  ii.  3.  265:  — 

"  were  your  days 
As  green  as  Ajax',  and  your  brain  so  temper'd,"  etc. 

18.  Nor  noite.  For  the  double  negative,  so  common  in  S,,  cf.  23 
below.  The  confusion  of  I  and  /ne  is  common,  like  that  of  the  in- 
flections of  other  pronouns.  See  in  i.  I.  162  above.  Like  =  likely, 
as  very  often  in  S.     Cf.  iv.  i.  65  below. 

20.  Perforce.  Here  =  by  force;  as  in  C.  of  E.  iv.  3.  95,  Rich.  II. 
ii.  3.  121,  M.  N.  D.  ii.  i.  26,  etc.  Elsewhere  it  is  =  of  necessity; 
as  in  M.  N.  D.  iii.  2.  90,  Hen.  V.  v.  2.  161,  etc.     Render  —  give 


176 


Notes  [Act  I 


back.  Cf.  ii.  5.  28  below;  also  M.  of  V.  iv.  i.  383,  Hen.  V.  ii.  4. 
127,  etc. 

26.    Withal.     See  on  i.  i.  130  above. 

28.  A  pure  blush.  A  blush  that  has  no  shame  in  it.  Come  off 
—  get  off,  escape;   as  in  Jlf.  of  V.\.  i.  128,  Cor.  ii.  2.  116,  etc. 

31.  The  good  housewife  Fortune,  etc.  Cf.  A.  and  C.  iv.  15.  44: 
"  That  the  false  housewife  Fortune  break  her  wheel."  There,  as  in 
Hen.  V.  V.  i.  85  (*'  Doth  Fortune  play  the  huswife  with  me  now  ?  "), 
housewife  or  huswife  (the  latter  is  the  usual  spelling  in  the  folio)  is 
used  contemptuously.  Cf.  Ham.  ii.  2.  515.  Fortune  is  represented 
with  a  wheel,  as  Fluelen  explains  {Hen.  V.  iii.  6.  35),  "to  signify  to 
you,  which  is  the  moral  of  it,  that  she  is  turning,  and  inconstant, 
and  mutability,  and  variation." 

38.  Honest.  Chaste,  virtuous;  as  in  iii.  3.  17.  Cf.  M.  W.  iv.  2. 
107,  136,  etc. 

39.  Ill-favour edly.  Ill-favoured,  ugly.  Cf.  iii.  5.  53:  "ill-favour'd 
children."  Adverbs  are  often  used  as  adjectives.  For  favour  = 
face,  cf.  Genesis,  xxix,  17,  xxxix.  6,  xli.  2,  3,  4,  etc. 

43.  When  Nature,  etc.  "  True  that  fortune  does  not  make  fair 
features  ;  but  she  can  mar  them  by  some  accident.  So  nature 
makes  us  able  to  philosophize,  chance  spoils  our  grave  philosophy 
by  sending  us  a  fool  "  (Moberly). 

48.  Natural.  Fool,  idiot.  Cf.  Temp.  iii.  2.  37  and  R.  and  J. 
ii.  4.  96. 

51.  Who,  perceiving,  etc.  Or,  perhaps,  Nature  thinks  us  so  dull 
that  she  sends  us  her  "  natural "  to  sharpen  our  wits. 

52.  To  reason  of.     To  talk  about,  discuss. 

54.  Whetstone  of  the  wits.  The  title  of  Robert  Recorde's  Arith- 
metic is  "  The  Whetstone  of  Witte." 

Wit!  whither  wander  you  ?  "Wit,  whither  wilt  ?"  (iv.  I.  161) 
was  a  proverbial  saying  ;   perhaps  the  beginning  of  an  old  ballad. 

64.  Naught.  Worthless,  bad.  Cf.  Much  Ado,  v.  I.  157:  "the 
which  if  I  do  not  carve  most  curiously,  say  my  knife  's  naught ;  " 
Hen.  V.  i.  2.  73 :  "  corrupt  and  naught,"  etc.     The  word  in  this 


Scene  II]  Notes  177 

sense  is  usually  spelled  naught  in  the  early  eds.,  but  nought  when 
it  means  nothing. 

66.  And  yet  was  not  the  knight  forsworn.  Boswell  quotes  the 
old  play  of  Damon  and  Pithias  :  — 

"  I  haue  taken  a  wise  othe  on  him  :  have  I  not,  trow  ye, 
To  trust  such  a  false  knave  upon  his  honestie  ? 

As  he  is  an  honest  man  (quoth  you  ?)  he  may  bewray  all  to  the  kinge, 
And  breke  his  oth  for  this  never  a  whit." 

Cf.  Rich.  III.  iv.  4.  366-387. 

81.  Old  Frederick.  The  reading  of  the  folios,  which,  however, 
assign  the  folio  wing,  speech  to  Rosalind.  As  Frederick  was  Celia's 
father  (v.  4.  154),  some  editors  have  changed  Frederick  to  "Fer- 
dinand"; others  have  given,  as  I  do,  the  next  speech  to  Celia. 
The  latter  seems  the  simpler  way  out  of  the  difficulty ;  and  such 
errors  in  the  names  of  characters  are  by  no  meaiis  rare  in  the 
early  eds. 

85.  Taxation.  Satire,  invective.  Cf.  tax  =  accuse,  inveigh 
against,  in  ii.  7.  71,  86  below  ;  also  in  Much  Ado,  i.  i.  46,  T.  and  C. 
i.  3.  97,  Ham.  i.  4.  18,  etc.  We  still  speak  of  "  taxing  a  person 
with  "  anything.      Whipping  was  the  usual  punishment  of  fools. 

87.  Wise  men  is  printed  as  one  word  in  the  folio,  like  wise  man 
in  V.  I.  35  and  elsewhere.  It  was  accented  on  the  first  syllable,  as 
madman  is  now. 

88.  By  my  troth.  The  most  common  form  of  the  petty  oath  of 
which  d'  my  troth  !  in  troth  !  good  troth  !  and  the  simple  troth  !  are 
variations.  For  troth  in  its  original  sense  (=  truth),  cf.  M.  N.  D. 
ii.  2.  36:  "to  speak  troth,"  etc. 

89.  Was  silenced.  There  may  be  here  an  allusion  to  some 
recent  restriction  upon  the  players. 

93.  Put  on  us.  Inflict  on  us,  or  force  upon  us.  Cf.  M.  for  M. 
ii.  2.  133,  T.  N.v.  I.  70,  Ha7n.  i.  3.  94,  etc. 

loi.    Sport!  of  what  colour?     Probably  Celia  is  ridiculing  Le 
Beau's  affected  pronunciation  of  the  word,  which  suggests  spot. 
AS  YOU  LIKE   IT — 12 


178  Notes  [Act  I 

106.  Laid  on  with  a  troiuel.  This  was  no  doubt  a  proverbial 
hit  at  clumsy  or  gross  flattery.  Cf.  lay  it  on  —  to  do  anything  to 
excess,  to  be  lavish  in  expense,  to  flatter  extravagantly,  etc.  See 
W.  T.  iv.  3.  41,  etc.  To  lay  it  on  thick  is  still  a  colloquial  ex- 
pression. 

107.  Rank.  There  is  a  similar  play  upon  the  word  in  Cymb. 
ii.  I.  17. 

109.  Amaze.  Confuse,  put  me  in  a  maze.  Cf.  V.  and  A.  684: 
"a  labyrinth  to  amaze  his  foes;"  K.  John,  iv.  3.  140:  "I  am 
amaz'd,  methinks,  and  lose  my  way;"  M.  for  M.  iv.  2.  224:  "Yet 
you  are  amazed ;   but  this  shall  absolutely  resolve  you,"  etc. 

115.  To  do.  A  common  idiomatic  use  of  the  infinitive  active. 
Cf.  T.  N.  iii.  2.  18.  :  "  What 's  to  do  ?  "  etc.  It  is  still  in  good  use 
in  many  phrases;  as  "a  house  to  let,"  for  which  some  over- 
fastidious  folk  think  it  necessary  to  substitute  "  to  be  let." 

118.  Comes.  The  singular  verb  is  often  found  before  two 
singular  subjects  as  well  as  before  a  plural  subject;  and  here  we 
have  a  combination  of  the  two  cases. 

121.  Proper.  Comely,  good-looking;  as  often.  Cf.  Hebrews^ 
xi.  23. 

123.  With  bills  on  their  necks.  The  bill  was  "  a  kind  of  pike  or 
halberd,  formerly  carried  by  the  English  infantry,  and  afterwards 
the  usual  weapon  of  watchmen."  It  was  also  used  by  foresters. 
Lodge  describes  Rosader  "  with  his  forrest  bill  on  his  necke,"  that 
is  on  his  shoulder.  For  the  play  upon  bill,  cf.  Much  Ado,  iii,  3.  191 
and  2  Hen.  VI.  iv.  7.  135.  There  is  also  a  pun  on  presence  and 
presents. 

127.    That  =  so  \h2l ;  as  often. 

130.  Dole.  Grief.  Cf.  M.  N.  D.  y.  i.  283  :  "What  dreadful 
dole  is  here  !  "     Hajn.  i.  2.  13  :  "  delight  and  dole,"  etc. 

141.  Broken  mtisic.  Chappell  (^Popular  Music,  etc.)  says: 
"  Some  instruments,  such  as  viols,  violins,  flutes,  etc.,  were  formerly 
made  in  sets  of  four,  which  when  played  together  formed  a  '  con- 
sort.'   If  one  or  more  of  the  instruments  of  one  set  were  substituted 


Scene  II]  Notes  179 

for  the  corresponding  ones  of  another  set,  the  result  was  no  longer 
a  'consort,'  but  'broken  music'  "  P^or  the  play  upon  the  expression, 
cf.  Hen.  V.  v.  2.  263  and  T.  and  C.  iii.  I.  52.  The  use  of  see  here 
has  troubled  some  of  the  critics,  and  changes  have  been  suggested; 
but,  though  Rosalind  speaks  of  "broken  music,"  she  has  in  mind 
the  wrestling. 

153.  Looks  successfully.  Looks  as  if  he  would  be  successful. 
Cf.  Hen.  V.  iv.  prol.  39:  "But  freshly  looks;"  Teffip.  iii.  i.  32: 
"You  look  wearily;  "  Rick.  III.  i.  4.  I :  "Why  looks  your  grace 
so  heavily  to-day  ?  "  etc.     See  also  on  39  above. 

156.  Are  you  C7'ept?  Have  you  crept  ?  Be  and  have  are 
both  used  with  the  perfect  tense  of  certain  intransitive  verbs,  mostly 
of  motion. 

157.  So  please  you.     See  on  i.  i.  90  above. 

165.  The  princess  calls.  The  them  in  Orlando's  reply  suggests 
\}a.2X  princess  is  plural  (as  horse,  sense,  balance,  and  other  words  end- 
ing in  a  sibilant  sometimes  are)  and  that  calls  is  a  misprint  for  call. 

175.  Your  eyes,  etc.  The  meaning,  as  Johnson  notes,  is  "if 
you  could  use  your  own  eyes  to  see.,  or  your  own  judgment  to  know 
yourself,  the  fear  of  your  adventure  would  counsel  you." 

181.  Misprised.     See  on  i,  I,  166. 

182.  Might.     May;   an  irregular  sequence  of  tenses. 

187.  Wherein.  Apparently  used,  as  other  relative  words  some- 
times are,  before  the  antecedent  clause :  Punish  me  not  with  your 
hard  thoughts  for  denying  you  anything;  wherein  (in  doing  which) 
I  confess  myself  much  guilty.  The  reflexive  use  of  me  (as  of  other 
personal  pronouns)  is  common. 

188.  Gracious.  Favoured,  acceptable.  Cf.  T.A.'x.  i.  ii  (cf. 
170  and  429)  :  "  gracious  in  the  eyes  of  Rome ;  "  3  Hen.  VI.  iii. 
3.  117  :  "gracious  in  the  people's  eye." 

191.  Only,  etc.  That  is,  I  only  fill  up,  etc.  Cf.  Macb.  iii.  6.  2  : 
"Only  I  say;  "  /.  C.  v.  4.  12  :  "Only  I  yield  to  die,"  etc. 

203.  Working.  S.  often  uses  the  word  of  mental  operations. 
Cf.  Soitn.  93.  II,  M.for  M.  ii.  i.  10,  L,  L.  L.  iv.  i.  ■^^-^t  etc. 


1 80  Notes  [Act  I 

209.  Come  your  ways.     Cf.  ii.  3.  66  and  iv.  i.  179  below. 

210.  Speed.  Patron,  protector.  Qi.  Hen.  Kv.  2.  194:  "Saint 
Dennis  be  my  speed!"  R.  and  J.  v.  3.  121 :  "Saint  Francis  be 
my  speed !  "  etc.  The  word  often  means  good  fortune,  success ; 
as  in  T.  of  S.  ii.  i.  139,  W.  T.  iii.  2.  146,  etc.  So  the  verb  often  = 
succeed;  as  in  A.  W.  iii.  7.  44,  T.  G.  of  V.  iv.  4.  112,  etc.  It  is 
also  used  in  wishing  success;  as  in  M.  N.  D.\.  i.  180 :  "  God  speed 
fair  Helena  !  "  etc.     See  also  Genesis,  xxiv.  12  and  2  John,  10,  ii. 

215.    Should  down.     A  common  ellipsis  in  S. 

218.  Well-breathed.  In  full  breath,  well  started.  Cf.  T.  of  S. 
ind.  2.  50:  "as  swift  As  breathed  stags;"  A.  and  C.  iii.  13.  178: 
"I  will  be  treble-sinew'd,  hearted,  breath'd;"  L.L.L.w.  2.  659: 

"  A  man  so  breath'd  that  certain  he  would  fight ;  yea, 
From  morn  till  night." 

227.  Still.     Constantly;  as  very  often.     Cf.  iii.  2.  51  below. 

228.  Shouldst.     We  should  say  "  wouldst." 

234.  Calling.  "Appellation;  a  very  unusual,  if  not  unprece- 
dented sense  of  the  word"  (Steevens).  Elsewhere  S.  uses  it  in 
the  modern  sense,  but  (with  the  exception  of  Per.  iv.  2.  43,  which 
may  not  be  his)  only  of  the  ecclesiastical  profession. 

239.  Unto.  In  addition  to.  Cf.  Rich.  II.  v.  3.  97  :  "  Unto  my 
mother's  prayers  I  bend  my  knee." 

242.  Envious.  Malicious ;  the  usual  meaning  in  S.  So  envy 
more  commonly  =  malice,  spite,  hate. 

243.  At  heart.     To  the  heart.     Cf.  T.  and  C.  iii.  2.  202. 
245.    But  justly  as.     Just  as,  exactly  as. 

247.  This.  A  chain:  as  appears  from  iii.  2.  1 79.  Out  of  suits, 
etc.  =  "  turned  out  of  the  service  of  Fortune  and  stripped  of  her 
livery"  (Steevens),  or  "out  of  her  books  or  graces"  (Johnson). 

248.  Could.  Could  with  a  good  will,  would  gladly.  Cf.  A.  and 
C.  i.  2.  131 :  "The  hand  could  pluck  her  back  that  shov'd  her  on." 

250.  My  better  parts.  Caldecott  quotes  yT/rt<r(5.  v.  8.  18:  "For  it 
hath  cow'd  my  better  part  of  man." 


Scene  II]  Notes  l8l 

252.  A  quintain.  That  is,  a  mere  wooden  image  of  a  man.  The 
qttintain,  in  its  simplest  form,  was  an  upright  post,  with  a  cross-bar 
turning  on  a  pivot  at  the  top.  At  one  end  of  this  bar  was  a  broad 
target,  at  the  other  a  heavy  sand-bag.  The  sport  was  to  ride  at  full 
speed  at  the  target,  hit  it  with  a  lance,  and  get  out  of  the  way  before 
the  sand-bag  should  swing  round  and  strike  the  filter  on  the  back. 
The  figure  of  a  Saracen,  with  a  shield  on  his  left  arm,  and  a  drawn 
sabre  in  his  right  hand,  sometimes  took  the  place  of  the  post  with 
its  cross-bar.  Running  at  the  quintain  is  said  to  have  been  a  fa- 
vourite sport  at  country  weddings  in  Oxfordshire  as  late  as  the  end 
of  the  seventeenth  century. 

255.  You  have  iprestled  well,  etc.  As  Lady  Martin  remarks, 
"  this  is  very  significant,  and  speaks  plainly  enough,  though  spoken 
as  it  would  be  with  great  reserve  of  manner,  of  the  favourable  im- 
pression which  the  young  wrestler  has  made  upon  her.  We  may 
be  sure  that  but  for  his  modest  demeanour,  Rosalind  would  not  have 
allowed  herself  to  confess  so  much."  Cf.  what  Celia  says  in  iii.  2. 
207 :  "  It  is  young  Orlando  that  tripped  up  the  wrestler's  heels  and 
your  heart  both  in  an  instant." 

257.  Have  with  you.  I'll  go  with  you;  a  common  idiom.  Cf. 
M.  IV.  ii.  I.  161,  229,  239,  iii.  2.  93,  L.  L.  L.  iv.  2.  151,  Cor.  ii. 
I.  286,  etc. 

259.  Conferejice.  Conversation;  as  often.  Cf.  Much  Ado,  ii.  3. 
229  :  "  the  conference  was  sadly  borne,"  etc. 

265.  Condition.  Temper,  disposition.  Cf.  M.  of  V.  i.  2.  143: 
"  the  condition  of  a  saint,"  etc.     The  word  is  here  a  quadrisyllable. 

266.  Misconstrues.  The  folio  has  "  misconsters,"  the  old  spell- 
ing of  the  word.  So  construe  was  spelled  and  pronounced 
"  conster." 

267.  Humorous.  "  Wayward,  headstrong,  obstinate  "  (Furness). 
Cf.  ii.  3.  8  and  iv.  i.  19  below.  It  is  sometimes  =  capricious,  as  in 
K.John,  iii.  I.  119:  "her  humorous  ladyship"  [Fortune],  etc. 

268.  /.     See  on  i.  i.  162  above,  and  cf.  iii.  2.  151  below. 

273.   Smaller.    The  folio  has  "taller";  but  cf.  i.  3.  114  and  iv. 


1 82  Notes  [Act  I 

3.  87  below.  I  adopt  Malone's  emendation,  as  nearest  to  the 
old  text.  Cf.  Greene,  James  IV.  :  "  my  small  son."  "  Shorter," 
"lower,"  and  "lesser  "  are  other  modern  readings. 

280.  Argument.  Cause,  reason.  Cf.  iii.  i.  3  below;  also  ^.  IV. 
ii.  2.  256,  T.  N.  iii.  3.  12,  Rich.  III.  i.  i.  148,  etc. 

283.  On  my  life.  A  common  oath.  Cf.  M.  W.  v.  5.  200,  W.  T. 
V.  I.  43,  etc.  So  (9'  my  life  {M.  W.  i.  i.  40),  by  my  life  (iv.  i.  153 
and  V.  2.  68  below),  etc. 

285.  In  a  better  world.  In  better  times.  Cf.  Rich.  II.  iv.  I.  78  : 
"  in  this  new  world  "  (this  new  state  of  things)  ;  T.  and  C.  iii.  2. 
180:  "in  the  world  to  come"  (in  coming  time,  in  future  genera- 
tions), etc. 

287.  Rest.  Remain.  Cf.  M  of  V.  i.  i.  152:  "rest  debtor;" 
W.  T.  iii.  3.  49 :  "  still  rest  thine,"  etc.  See  also  iii.  2.  69  below. 
On  bounden,  cf.  IC.  John,  iii.  3.  29.  Elsewhere  S.  has  bound  for  the 
participle. 

288.  From  the  S7noke,  etc.  That  is,  from  bad  to  worse.  Smother  = 
thick  and  suffocating  smoke. 

Scene  III.  —  11.  My  child's  father.  That  is,  him  whom  I  hope 
to  marry.  Rowe  (2d  ed.)  changed  it  to  "my  father's  child,". which 
is  approved  by  several  editors  and  critics.  But,  as  Moberly  remarks, 
"  S.  would  have  smiled  at  the  emendation."  The  original  reading 
would  undoubtedly  be  indelicate  now,  but  it  was  not  considered  so 
in  the  poet's  day.  Besides,  the  change  is  inconsistent  with  the  con- 
duct of  the  dialogue,  in  which  Rosalind  is  represented  as  constantly 
thinking  and  speaking  of  her  lover.  We  must  bear  in  mind  that 
she  is  talking  with  Celia. 

12.  This  working-day  world.  This  every-day  life  of  ours.  Cf. 
A.  and  C.  i.  2.  55  :  "  but  a  worky-day  fortune." 

18.  Hem  them  away.  Cough  them  away;  as  if  the  "burs"  were 
in  her  throat.  In  cry  hem  and  have  him,  there  is  perhaps  a  play 
on  hem  and  him. 

27.    On  such  a  sudden.     Not  elsewhere  used  by  S.     On  the  sudden 


Scene  III]  Notes  1 83 

seems  to  be  his  favourite  phrase,  but  he  uses  also  on  a  sudden  and 
of  a  sudden.      With  =  for. 

32.  Chase.  That  is,  follozving  the  argument ;  alluding  possibly, 
as  some  think,  to  the  deer,  quibbling  on  the  word  dearly.  For  a 
play  on  dear  and  deer,  see  V.  and  A.  231,  M.  IV.  v.  5.  18,  123, 
L.  L.  L.  iv.  I.  115,  T.  of  S.  V.  2.  56,  i  Hen.  IV.  v.  4.  107,  etc. 

ifl.  Dearly.  Heartily.  Cf.  Ham.  iv.  3.  43 :  "  as  v^^e  dearly 
grieve,"  etc.  The  word,  like  dear,  is  used  of  any  intense  feeling. 
Cf.  Ham.  i.  2.  182:  "My  dearest  foe,"  etc. 

36.  Deserve  well.  Deserve  zVwell;  that  is,  to  be  hated.  Rosa- 
lind purposely  misinterprets  the  phrase.  Malone  explains  it  thus : 
"  Celia  answers  Rosalind,  who  had  desired  her  not  to  hate  Orlando, 
as  if  she  had  said  love  him." 

40.  Safest  haste.  "  The  haste  which  is  your  best  safety  "  (Mo- 
berly) .  It  is  an  instance  of  prolepsis,  or  the  anticipation  in  an  ad- 
jective of  the  result  of  the  action  expressed  or  implied  in  the  noun. 
Cf.  Macb.  i.  6.  3,  iii.  4.  76,  etc. 

41.  Cousin.  Niece;  as  in  T.  N.  i.  3.  5,  T.  and  C.  i.  2.  44,  etc. 
Elsewheire  S.  uses  it  for  nephew,  uncle,  brother-in-law,  and  grand- 
child ;  also  as  a  mere  complimentary  form  of  address  between 
princes,  etc. 

42.  If  that.  For  that  as  "  a  conjunctional  affix  "  (used  with  and, 
but,  lest,  zvhen,  since,  etc.),  cf.  48,  just  below,  and  ii.  7.  73,  iii.  5. 
93,   and  iv.  3.  116. 

46.   If  with  myself,  etc.     If  I  know  my  own  mind. 

52.  Purgation.  Exculpation.  Cf.  Ilett.  VIII.  v.  3.  152:  *'and 
fair  purgation,"  etc.     See  also  v.  4.  44  below. 

62.  My  father  was  no  traitor.  '*  Rosalind's  brave  spirit  will  not 
allow  her  to  defend  herself  at  her  father's  expense,  or  to  separate 
her  cause  from  his.  There  are  few  passages  in  S.  more  instinctively 
true  and  noble  than  this.  She  had  not  offended  her  uncle,  even  in 
thought,  though  every  one  else  was  doing  so;  but  the  least  sugges- 
tion that  her  father  is  a  traitor  rouses  her  in  arms  to  defend  him  " 
(Moberly). 


1 84  Notes  [Act  I 

63.  Good  my  liege.     See  on  i.  2.  i  above. 

64.  To  think.     As  to  think.     My  poverty  =  one  so  poor  as  I. 
66.    Stafd.     See  on  i.  i.  8  above. 

69.  Realtor se.  Pity,  compassion.  Cf.  il/.  o/"  V.  iv.  i.  20:  "mercy 
and  remorse ;  "  K.  John,  iii.  4.  50 :  "  tears  of  soft  remorse,"  etc. 
The  only  meaning  of  remorseful  in  S.  is  compassionate,  and  of  re- 
morseless (as  in  our  day)  pitiless. 

70.  That  time.     At  that  time. 

72.  Still.     See  on  i.  2.  227  above. 

73.  At  an  instant.  At  the  same  instant.  S.  uses  both  eat  and 
eaten  for  the  participle,  but  eat  regularly  for  the  past  tense. 

74.  Juno's  swans.  Pier  chariot  was  drawn  by  peacocks,  as  S. 
himself  makes  it  in  Te7?ip.  iv.  i.  73.  S.  forgot  or  confused  the  an- 
cient fables  for  the  moment. 

77.   Patience.     A  trisyllable  here. 

80.  Show.  Appear;  as  often  in  S.  Cf.  V.  and  A.  366: 
"  Show'd  like  two  silver  doves  ;"  R.  of  L.  ded.  5  :  "  my  duty  would 
show  greater  ;"  M.  of  V.  iv.  I.  196  :  "  doth  then  show  likest  God's," 
etc.     Virtuous  =  gifted  with  virtues,  or  good  qualities  generally. 

86.  Provide  yourself.  Prepare  yourself,  get  ready  to  go.  Cf. 
Ham.  iii.  3.  7  :   "  We  will  ourselves  provide,"  etc. 

95.  No,  hath  not?  This  seems  to  be  a  mere  repetition  of  what 
Rosalind  has  said,  rather  than  (as  some  make  it)  an  instance  like 
No  had?  No  did?  No  will  ?  etc.  (equivalent  to  Had  he  not?  Did 
he  not  ?  etc.). 

96.  Which  teacheth  thee,  etc.  "  Which  ought  to  teach  you  as  it 
has  already  taught  me"  (Moberly).  Theobald  changed  thee  to 
•'  me  "  and  am  to  "  are  ";  but  the  sense  does  not  require  the  former 
change,  nor  the  grammar — that  is,  Elizabethan  grammar — the 
latter  one.  Even  the  learned  Ben  Jonson  could  write  (  The  Fox, 
ii.  i)  "  both  it  and  I  am  at  your  service,"  and  (^Cynthia's  Revels,  i.  i) 
"  My  thoughts  and  I  am  for  this  other  element,  water," 

103.  For,  by  this  heaven,  etc.  "  By  this  heaven,  or  the  light  of 
heaven,  with    its    lustre    faded   in   sympathy  with    our   feelings" 


Scene  III]  Notes  185 

(Caldecott).  The  scene  (which  is  on  the  same  day  as  the  preceding 
one)  is  apparently  towards  evening. 

106.  To  seek  my  uncle,  etc.  Campbell  remarks:  "Before  I  say 
more  of  this  dramatic  treasure,  I  must  absolve  myself  by  a  confession 
as  to  some  of  its  improbabilities.  Rosalind  asks  her  cousin  Celia, 
'  Whither  shall  we  go  ? '  and  Celia  answers,  '  To  seek  my  uncle  in 
the  forest  of  Arden.'  But,  arrived  there,  and  having  purchased  a 
cottage  and  sheep-farm,  neither  the  daughter  nor  niece  of  the 
banished  Duke  seem  to  trouble  themselves  much  to  inquire 
about  either  father  or  uncle.  The  lively  and  natural-hearted 
Rosalind  discovers  no  impatience  to  embrace  her  sire  until  she  has 
finished  her  masked  courtship  with  Orlando.  But  Rosalind  was  in 
love,  as  I  have  been  with  the  comedy  these  forty  years  ;  and  love 
is  blind  —  for  until  a  late  period  my  eyes  were  never  couched  so 
as  to  see  this  objection.  The  truth,  however,  is,  that  love  is  wilfully 
blind  ;  and  now  that  my  eyes  are  opened,  I  shut  them  against  the 
fault.  Away  with  your  best-proved  improbabilities,  when  the  heart 
has  been  touched  and  the  fancy  fascinated  !  " 

109.  Beauty  provoketh  thieves,  etc.      Cf.  Milton,  Comus,  393  :  — 

"But  Beauty,  like  the  fair  Hesperian  tree, 
Laden  with  blooming  gold,  had  need  the  guard 
Of  dragon  watch  with  unenchanted  eye, 
To  save  her  blossoms  and  defend  her  fruit,"  etc. 

113.  Stir.  Excite,  rouse.  Cf.  W.  T.  v.  3.  74  :  "I  am  sorry  I 
have  thus  far  stirred  you,"  etc. 

114.  Because  that.  See  on  42  above.  Cci/zz/^ow  is  the  adjective 
used  adverbially;   as  adjectives  often  are  by  S. 

115.  Suit  me  all  points.  Dress  myself  in  all  respects.  For  the 
pronoun,  see  on  i,  2.  187  above. 

116.  Curtle-axe.  Cutlass.  It  is  the  Fr.  coutelas  which  from 
the  form  courtelas  became  corrupted  into  curtlass,  curtlaxe,  and 
curtle-axe.  These  are  but  a  few  of  the  old  spellings,  but  will  serve 
to  show  how  a  sword  was  gradually  turned  into  an  "  axe. "     Spenser 


1 86  Notes  [Act  II 

(^F.  Q.  iv.  2.  42)  calls  it  "  curtaxe."     Cutlash  and  cutlace  were  later 
forms. 

119.  Swashing.  Swaggering, blustering.  Qi. swasher  =.\>x2.gg2x\., 
bully,  in  Hen.  V.  iii.  2.  30.  Swashbuckler  was  used  in  the  same 
sense. 

120.  Mannish.  Cf.  Cymb.  iv.  2.  236:  "though  now  our  voices 
Have  got  the  mannish  crack; "  and  T.  andC.  iii.  3.  217;  "A  woman 
impudent  and  mannish  grown." 

121.  Outface  it.  Face  it  out.  Cf.  Much  Ado,  v.  i.  94 ; 
"  Scambling,  outfacing,  fashion-monging  boys." 

127.  No  longer  Celia,  but  Aliena.  An  eleven-syllable  line.  Celia 
is  a  trisyllable,  as  in  66  above,  and  Aliena  accented  on  the  penult,  as 
it  ought  to  be. 

128.  Assay d.  Tried,  attempted.  Cf.  0th.  \\.  3.  207:  "Assays 
to  lead  the  way,"  etc. 

132.  Woo.  Solicit,  gain  over.  Cf.  i^iV^. //.  i.  4.  28 :  "  Wooing 
poor  craftsmen  with  the  craft  of  smiles  ;  "  T.  and  C.  iii.  I.  162: 
"  I  must  woo  you  To  help  unarm  our  Hector,"  etc. 

136.  Go  we  in  content.  The  reading  of  the  later  folios;  the 
first  has  "  in  we."     Content  is  a  noun,  as  in  iii.  2.  25  below. 


ACT  II 


Scene  I. —  i.  Exile.  Accented  on  the  last  syllable,  as  in  R. 
and  J.  iii.  3.  20,  140  (but  exile  13  and  43),  v.  3.  211,  etc.  S.  also 
uses  the  verb  with  both  accents. 

2.    Old  custom.     Continued  habit. 

5.  Here  feel  we  not,  etc.  This  is  the  reading  of  the  folios,  but 
many  editors  read  "  feel  we  but."  Knight  thus  defends  the  old  text : 
"  We  ask,  what  is  '  the  penalty  of  Adam  '  ?  All  the  commentators 
say,  'the  seasons'  difference.'      On  the  contrary,  it  was,  *In  the 


Scene  I]  Notes  187 

sweat  of  thy  face  shalt  thou  eat  bread.'  Milton  represents  the 
repentant  Adam  as  thus  interpreting  the  penalty :  — 

'  On  me  the  curse  aslope 
Glanced  on  the  ground  ;  with  labour  I  must  earn 
My  bread;  what  harm?     Idleness  had  been  worse.' 

'  The  seasons'  difference,'  it  must  be  remembered,  was  ordained  before 
the  fall  and  was  in  no  respect  a  penalty.  We  may  therefore  reject 
the  received  interpretation.  But  how  could  the  Duke  say,  receiv- 
ing the  passage  in  the  sense  we  have  suggested,  '  Here  feel  we  not 
the  penalty  of  Adam'?  In  the  first  act,  Charles  the  Wrestler, 
describing  the  Duke  and  his  comates,  says,  they  'fleet  the  time 
carelessly  as  they  did  in  the  golden  world.^  One  of  the  character- 
istics of  the  golden  world  is  thus  described  by  Daniel :  — 

'  Oh !  happy  golden  age ! 

Not  for  that  rivers  ran 
With  streams  of  milk  and  honey  dropp'd  from  trees ; 

Not  that  the  earth  did  gage 

Unto  the  husbandman 
Her  voluntary  fruits,  free  without  fees.' 

The  song  of  Amiens  in  the  fifth  scene  of  this  act,  conveys,  we  think, 
the  same  allusion :  — 

'  Who  doth  ambition  shun, 
An'd  loves  to  live  i'  the  sun. 
Seeking  the  food  he  eats, 
And  pleas' d  with  what  he  gets' 

The  exiled  courtiers  led  a  life  without  toil  —  a  life  in  which  they 
were  contented  with  a  little  —  and  they  were  thus  exempt  from  the 
'  penalty  of  Adam.'  We  close,  therefore,  the  sentence  at  '  Adam.' 
*  The  seasons'  difference '  is  now  the  antecedent  of  '  these  are  coun- 
sellors';  the  freedom  of  construction  common  to  Shakespeare  and 
the  poets  of  his  time  fully  warranting  this  acceptation  of  the  read- 
ing.    In  this  way,  the  Duke  says,  '  The  differences  of  the  seasons 


1 88  Notes  [Act  11 

are  counsellors  that  teach  me  what  I  am;  as,  for  example,  the  win- 
ter's wind  —  which,  when  it  blows  upon  my  body,  I  smile  and  say, 
this  is  no  flattery.'  " 

6.  As.  As  for  instance,  namely.  Cf.  iv.  3.  141  below.  See  also 
Macb.  V.  3.  25,  etc. 

8.    Which.    As  to  which. 

13.  Like  the  toad,  etc.  Cf.  3  Hen.  VI.  ii.  2.  138 :  "  venom  toads;  " 
Rich.  III.  i.  2.  148:  "Never  hung  poison  on  a  fouler  toad,"  etc. 
Better  naturalists  than  S.  believed  in  the  toad-stone^  the  "  precious 
jewel "  of  the  text.  Fenton,  in  his  Secrete  Wonders  of  Nature,  1569, 
says  that  "  there  is  founde  in  the  heades  of  old  and  great  toades,  a 
stone  which  they  call  Borax  or  Stelon :  it  is  most  commonly  founde 
in  the  head  of  a  hee  toad,  of  power  to  repulse  poysons,  and  that  it 
is  a  most  soveraigne  medicine  for  the  stone."  Its  virtues  are  also 
set  forth  in  Lupton's  Thousatid  Notable  Things,  1586,  in  Topsell's 
History  of  Serpents,  1608,  and  by  other  learned  writers  of  the  time. 
Allusions  to  it  are  frequent  in  the  literature  of  that  day.  Meres,  in 
\a%  Palladis  Taenia,  S2,ys :  "As  the  foule  toad  hath  a  faire  stone 
in  his  head;  the  fine  golde  is  founde  in  the  filthie  earth;  the  sweete 
kernell  lyeth  in  the  harde  shell,"  etc.  Lyly,  in  his  Euphues,  also 
says  that  "  the  foule  toad  hath  a  faire  stone  in  his  head,"  etc. 

18.  /  tuould  not  change  it.  The  folios  make  these  words  the 
beginning  of  the  next  speech,  but  I  think  that  Upton,  Dyce,  and 
others  are  right  in  transferring  them  to  the  Duke. 

21.  Go  and  kill  us.     See  on  i.  i.  73;   and  for  us  on  i.  2.  187. 

22.  Irks  me.  Cf.  i  Hen.  VI.  i.  4.  105  :  "it  irks  his  heart;"  and 
3  Hen.  VI.  ii.  2.  6 :  "  it  irks  my  very  soul."  S.  uses  the  word  only 
three  times.     Irksome  occurs  in  iii.  5.  94  below. 

Fool  is  sometimes  used  as  "  a  term  of  endearment  or  pity."  Cf. 
W.  T.  ii.  I.  18:  "Do  not  weep,  poor  fools;  "  3  Hen.  VI.  ii.  5.  36: 
"  So  many  weeks  ere  the  poor  fools  will  ean,"  etc.  Halliwell- 
Phillipps  quotes  a  poem  by  Harington,  addressed  to  his  wife :  — 

"  Thus  then  I  doe  rejoice  in  that  thou  grievest, 
And  yet,  sweet  foole,  I  love  thee,  thou  beleevest." 


Scene  I]  Notes  189 

23.  Burghers.  Citizens.  Cf.  M.  of  V.\.  i.  10:  "Like  signiors 
and  rich  burghers  on  the  flood."  In  Sidney's  Arcadia  deer  are 
called  "  the  wild  burgesses  of  the  forest  ";  and  in  Drayton's  Polyol- 
bion  the  hart  is  "  a  burgess  of  the  wood." 

24.  Confines.  For  the  accent,  cf.  Sonn.  83.  4 :  "In  whose  con- 
fine immured  is  the  store,"  etc.  S.  oftener  accents  it  on  the  first 
syllable;  as  in  J.  C.  iii.  i.  272:  "Shall  in  these  confines  with  a 
monarch's  voice,"  etc.  Tla.&  forked  heads  are  those  of  arrows.  As- 
cham  (^Toxophihis')  uses  the  same  words  in  describing  arrows. 

26.  y agues.  A  dissyllable,  as  always  in  S.  Cf.  A.  W.  iii.  4.  4 : 
"  I  am  Saint  Jaques'  pilgrim,  thither  gone;  "  Id.  iii.  5.  98:  "There's 
four  or  five  to  great  Saint  Jaques  bound,"  etc. 

27.  In  that  kind.  In  that  way.  Cf.^^2/£-/^  .^^(?,  ii.  i.  70:  "if  the 
prince  do  solicit  you  in  that  kind,"  etc. 

30.  lay  along.  Lay  at  full  length.  Cf.  J.  C.  iii.  i .  15:  "  That 
now  on  Pompey's  basis  lies  along,"  etc.  See  also  iii.  2.  236 
below. 

"Shakespeare,"  said  Coleridge,  "never  gives  a  description  of 
rustic  scenery  merely  for  its  own  sake,  or  to  show  how  well  he  can 
paint  natural  objects :  he  is  never  tedious  or  elaborate;  but  while 
he  now  and  then  displays  marvellous  accuracy  and  minuteness  of 
knowledge,  he  usually  only  touches  upon  the  larger  features  and 
broader  characteristics,  leaving  the  fillings  up  to  the  imagina- 
tion. Thus,  in  As  You  Like  It,  he  describes  an  oak  of  many  centu- 
ries' growth  in  a  single  line :  '  Under  an  oak,  whose  antique  root 
peeps  out.'  Other  and  inferior  writers  would  have  dwelt  on  this 
description,  and  worked  it  out  with  all  the  pettiness  and  imperti- 
nence of  detail.  In  Shakespeare  the  *  antique '  root  furnishes  the 
whole  picture." 

31.  Antique,  Spelt  critique  or  antick  in  the  early  eds.  without 
regard  to  the  meaning,  but  always  accented  on  the  first  syllable. 

2,2^.  Sequester'' d.  Separated  from  his  companions.  Cf.  T.  A.  ii. 
3.  75 :  "  Why  are  you  sequester'd  from  all  your  train  ?  "  There  the 
accent  is  on  the  first  syllable,  as  in  the  noun  in  0th.  iii.  4.  40 :  "A 


190  Notes  [Act  II 

sequester  from  liberty,  fasting,  and  prayer."  In  T.  and  C.  iii.  3.  8, 
it  is  accented  as  in  the  text. 

36.  The  wretched  animal,  etc.  In  a  marginal  note  to  a  similar 
passage  in  Drayton's  Polyolbio7i,  it  is  said  that  "  the  harte  weepeth 
at  his  dying :  his  tears  are  held  to  be  precious  in  medicine."  We 
find  the  same  idea  in  Batman,  Sidney,  and  other  writers  of  the 
time. 

39.  Cours'd.  Chased.  Cf.  Macb.  i.  6.  21 :  "  We  cours'd  him  at 
the  heels,"  etc. 

42.  The  exiremest  verge.  The  very  edge.  S.  accents  extreme  on 
the  first  syllable,  except  in  Sonn.  129.  4.  10.  .Exiremest,  which  he 
uses  often,  has  the  modern  accent.  Cf.  M.  of  V.\.  i.  138,  Rich.  II. 
iv.  I.  47,  etc. 

44.  Moralize.  Moralize  upon,  draw  a  moral  from.  Cf.  T.  of  S. 
iv.  4.  81  :  "I  pray  thee,  moralize  them,"  etc. 

46.  Needless.  Not  needing  it.  Cf.  careless  =  uncared  for  (^Macb. 
i.  4.  11),  sightless  =  unseen  (Alacb.  i.  7.  23),  etc. 

49.  Being  there.  As  to  his  being  there.  The  line  is  an  Alexan- 
drine. 

50.  Of.     By  ;   as  often.      F.?/^^^/ =  "  soft,   delicate  "  (Schmidt). 
52.   Flux.     Flow,  confluence.     S.  uses  the  word  only  here  and 

in  iii.  2.  66  below. 

59.    The  body.     The  whole  system. 

62.  Up.  Often  used,  as  now,  to  "  impart  to  verbs  the  sense  of 
completion  "  (Schmidt).  Cf.  "  dries  up  "  (  V.  and  A.  756),  "  burnt 
up"  (^Temp.  iii.  I.  17),  "mould  up"  {Hen.  VIII.  v.  5.  27),  "poi- 
sons up"  (Z.  L.  L.  iv.  3.  305),  etc.  See  also  Robinson's  transla- 
tion of  More's  Utopia  :  "  olde  age  kylleth  them  vp." 

67.  Cope.  Encounter.  Cf.  Hen.  VIII.  i.  2.  78 :  "  to  cope  ma- 
licious censurers ;  "  V.  and  A.  888  :  "who  shall  cope  him  first?" 
etc. 

68.  Matter.  Good  sense.  Cf.  Much  Ado,  ii.  i.  344  :  "all  mirth 
and  no  matter ;  "  Ham.  ii.  2.  95  :  "  more  matter  with  less  art," 
etc.     See  also  material  in  iii.  3.  32  below. 


Scene  III]  Notes  191 

Scene  II. — 3.  Are  of  consent  and  sufferance.  That  is,  have 
connived  at  it  and  allowed  it. 

7.  Untreasur'' d.  Used  by  S.  only  here ;  and  ^'r^^jwr^  (=  enrich) 
only  in  Sonn.  6.  3. 

8.  Roynish.  Scurvy,  mean  (Fr.  rogneux^.  Cf.  ronyon  {Macb. 
i.  3.  6  and  M.  W.  iv.  2.  195),  which  has  the  same  origin. 

13.  Farts.  Gifts,  qualities  ;  as  in  i.  I.  141  above.  Cf.  L.  L.  L. 
iv.  2.  118:  "I  thy  parts  admire,"  etc.  6'r(2(:^j  =  attractions.  Cf. 
Sonn.  103.  12:  "your  graces  and  your  gifts."  Wrestler  is  here 
a  trisyllable. 

19.  Suddenly.  Quickly.  Cf.  M.  TV.  iv.  i.  6:  "Mistress  Ford 
desires  you  to  come  suddenly."     See  also  ii.  4.  100  below. 

20.  Inquisition.  Inquiry;  as  in  the  only  other  instance  of  the 
word  in  S.  (^Temp.  i.  2.  35).      Quail :=  flag,  slacken. 

Scene  III.  —  3.   Memory.     Memorial,  reminder.     Cf.  Cor.  iv.  5. 

77:  — 

"  a  good  memory 

And  witness  of  the  malice  and  displeasure 

Which  thou  shouldst  bear  me." 

4.    What  make  you  here  ?     Cf.  i.  I.  28  and  iii.  2.  217. 

7.  So  fond,  etc.     So  foolish  as.     Cf.  AI.  of  V.  iii.  3.  9:  — 

"  I  do  wonder, 
Thou  naughty  gaoler,  that  thou  art  so  fond 
To  come  abroad  with  him  at  his  request." 

8.  The  bonny  priser.  The  gallant  prize-fighter.  Th^  New  Eng- 
lish Diet,  defines  it  in  this  and  another  passage,  as  "  big,  strong." 
The  first  folio  has  it  "  bonnie,"  the  later  folios  "  bonny."  Some 
editors  change  it  to  "bony"  (  =  big-boned,  sturdy),  but  S.  does  not 
use  the  word  elsewhere,  and  it  is  doubtful  whether  it  had  that  sense 
in  his  day.     He  has  bonny  several  times  =  blithe,  and  once  (2  Hejt. 

VI.  V.  2.  12:  "the  bonny  beast  he  lov'd  so  well")  with  quite  the 
same  force  as  here.     Priser,  or  prizer,  he  uses  only  here  and  in 


192  Notes  [Act  II 

T.  and  C.  ii.  2.  56,  where  it  is  =  appraiser.  For  humorous  see  on 
i.  2.  267. 

12.  No  more  do  yours.  A  peculiar  kind  of  "  double  negative  "; 
like  V.  and  A.  478 :  "  To  mend  the  hurt  that  his  unkindness 
marr'd  "  (where  marr''d — we  should  say  made  —  duplicates  the 
idea  in  hurf) ;  M.  of  V.  iv.  I.  162  :  "  Let  his  lack  of  years  be  no 
impediment  to  let  him  lack  a  reverend  estimation "  (either  —  no 
motive  to  let  him  lack,  or  =  no  impediment  to  let  him  have)  ; 
Cymb.  i.  4.  23 :  "a  beggar  without  less  quality  "  (  =  "  with  less,"  or 
"  without  more,"  both  of  which  have  been  proposed  as  emenda- 
tions), etc.  In  the  present  passage  but  as  enemies  =  nothing  else 
than  enemies,  and  JVo  more  do  yours  is  an  emphatic  reiteration  of 
the  implied  negative. 

15.  Efivenoms.  Poisons.  Cf.  K.John,  iii.  i.  63,  Hatn.  iv.  7.  104, 
etc.     There  may  be  an  allusion  to  the  poisoned  tunic  of  Hercules. 

23.  Use.  Are  accustomed.  We  still  use  the  past  tense  of  the 
verb  in  this  sense,  but  not  the  present.  Cf.  Temp.  ii.  i.  175  :  "  they 
always  use  to  laugh  at  nothing;  "  T.  N.  ii.  5.  104:  "with  which 
she  uses  to  seal ;  "  A.  and  C.  ii.  5.  32 :  "  we  use  To  say  the  dead 
are  well,"  etc.  See  also  Milton,  Lycidas,  67  :  "  Were  it  not  better 
done,  as  others  use,"  etc. 

26.  Practices.  Plottings.  Cf.  Hen.  V.  ii.  2.  90 :  "  the  practices 
of  France  ;  "  Id.  ii.  2.  144:  "And  God  acquit  them  of  their  prac- 
tices !  "  etc. 

27,  Place.  That  is,  place  for  you  ;  or,  perhaps, //(a:<ri?=:  dwelling- 
place,  residence.  Cf.  L.  C.  82 :  "  Love  lack'd  a  dwelling,  and 
made  him  her  place;"  Rich.  III.  iii.  i.  69  :  "Did  Julius  Caesar 
build  that  place  [the  Tower],  my  lord?"  So  "Crosby  Place" 
(the  quarto  reading  in  Rich.  III.  i.  2.  213,  etc.)  =  Crosby  House; 
"Eltham  Place"  (i  Hen.  VI.  iii.  i.  i56)  =  Eltham  House,  etc. 
Butchery  here  =  slaughter-house  ;  elsewhere  (as  in  Rich.  III.  i.  2. 
54,  100,  etc.)  =  slaughter. 

36.  Subject.  English  editors  think  it  necessary  to  note  that  the 
accent  is  on  the  second  syllable,  but  this  is  the  modern  pronuncia- 


Scene  III]  Notes  193 

tion  of  the  verb,  at  least  in  this  country  ;  and  it  is  the  only  one  in 
S.  See  Temp.  i.  2,  114,  Rich.  II.  iii,  2.  176,  and  K.  John,  i.  I.  264, 
which  are  the  only  other  instances. 

37.   Diverted  blood.     Alienated  or  perverted  relationship. 

39.  The  thrifty  hire  I  saved.  That  is,  the  wages  which  I  was 
thrifty  in  saving. 

42.    In  corners  thrown.     That  is,  be  thrown  there. 

43,44.  The  ravens  .  .  .  the  sparrow.  Ci.  _/ob,  xxxviii.  4.1,  Fsa/ms, 
Ixxxiv.  3,  cxlvii.  9,  Matthew,  x.  29,  and  luke,  xii.  6,  24. 

49.  In  my  blood.  "  These  words  seem  by  a  kind  of  zeugma  to 
belong  both  to  the  verb  apply  and  to  the  adjectives  hot  and  rebel- 
lious"  (Moberly). 

50,  Nor  did  not.  Cf.  ii.  4.  9  below.  £/«<5(3:j/^y^/=:  shameless. 
Woo  the  means  =  seek  pleasures  that  are  the  cause. 

57.  Constant.  Faithful.  Cf.  Hen.  V.  ii.  2.  5:  "  Constant  loy- 
alty;" Cymb.i.  5.  75:  — 

"  a  sly  and  constant  knave, 
Not  to  be  shak'd,"  etc. 

58.  Sweat.  Past  tense;  as  in  M.  of  V.  iii.  2.  205,  Hen.  VIII.  ii. 
I.  33,  etc.  It  is  also  used  for  the  participle;  as  in  T.  of  A.  iii.  2. 
28. 

60.  Promotion.     A  quadrisyllable.     See  on  i.  2.  265,  and  cf.  i.  3. 

77- 

61.  And  having,  etc.  "Even  with  the.  promotioii  gained  by  ser- 
vice is  service  extinguished"  (Johnson). 

65.  In  lieu  of.  In  return  for;  the  only  meaning  in  S.  Cf. 
I.  L.  L.  iii.  I.  130,  M.  of  V.  iv.  i.  410,  Hen.  V.  i.  2.  255,  etc. 

66.  Come  thy  ways.     See  on  i.  2.  209  above. 

68.  Some  settled  low  content.  Some  place  where  we  may  get  a 
humble  living  and  settle  down  contented  ;  a  good  example  of  Shake- 
spearian condensation  of  language. 

74.  Too  late  a  week.  Probably  a  proverbial  phrase,  like  a  "  day 
too  late  for  the  fair." 

AS   YOU   LIKE   IT — 1 3 


194  Notes  [Act  II 

Scene  IV.  —  i.  Weary.  The  folios  have  "merry,"  but  most  of 
the  editors  adopt  weary.  Furness  and  others  defend  "  merry  "  on 
the  ground  that  Rosalind  is  trying  to  comfort  Celia  by  an  assumed 
cheerfulness;   and  they  may  be  right. 

4.  I  cotild find  in  my  heart.  I  am  almost  inclined.  Cf.  C.ofE, 
iv.  4.  16 :  "I  could  find  in  my  heart  to  stay  here  ;  "  A.  IV.  ii.  5.  13: 
"  I  cannot  yet  find  in  my  heart  to  repent,"  etc.  In  Much  Ado,  iii. 
5.  24  it  is  "  find  it  in  my  heart." 

6.  The  weaker  vessel.  Cf.  I  Peter,  iii.  7.  Doublet  and  hose  = 
coat  and  breeches.  According  to  Fairholt  (^Costume  in  Eng- 
land), the  doublet  was  so  called  from  "being  made  of  double 
stuff  padded  between.  .  .  .  The  doublet  was  close,  and  fitted 
tightly  to  the  body,  the  skirts  reaching  a  little  below  the  gir- 
dle." The  same  writer  says  of  hose,  "This  word,  now  applied 
solely  to  the  stocking,  was  originally  used  to  imply  the  breeches 
or  chausses." 

11.  /  had  rather.  Good  old  English,  like  had  as  lief,  etc.  See 
on  i.  I.  143  above.  For  the  play  on  bear  and  bear  with,  cf.  T.  G. 
ofV.  i.  I.  125,  and  Rich.  III.  iii.  i.  128. 

12.  Bear  no  cross.  The  old  English  penny  was  called  a  cross 
from  bearing  the  impress  of  one.  For  the  play  upon  the  word,  cf. 
2  Hen.  IV.  i.  2.  253.  Here,  as  in  some  other  instances,  the  fact 
seems  to  be  sacrificed  to  the  pun.  Cf.  i.  3.  133  above,  and  65,  94 
below. 

19.  Look  you,  etc.  See  who  is  coming.  Cf.  Ham.  iii.  2.  132, 
etc.     Some  eds.  point  "who  comes  here  ?" 

21.  Solejnn  talk.  Earnest  or  serious  conversation.  Cf.  0th.  v. 
2.  227,  etc. 

31.  Fantasy.  Love ;  like  fancy  (cf.  iii.  5.  29  and  v.  4.  150), 
which  is  only  a  contracted  form  of  the  same  word.  It  occurs  again 
in  the  same  sense  in  v.  2.  91  below. 

38.  Wearing.  The  reading  of  the  first  folio;  the  later  ones  have 
"  Wearying,"  which  means  the  same.  Cf.  A.  W.y.i.  /^i  " To  wear 
your  gentle  limbs  in  my  affairs." 


Scene  IV]  Notes  195 

40.  Broke.  Cf.  spoke  in  i.  i.  83.  S.  also  uses  broken  for  the 
participle. 

44.  Searching  of.     In  searching  of,  or  a-searching  of. 

45.  By  hard  adventure.     By  bad  luck,  unfortunately. 

48.  A-night.     By  night.     Cf.  Chaucer,  Legende  of  Goode  Women^ 

1473:  — 

"  yf  that  any  straunge  wyghte 
With  tempest  thider  were  yblow  anyghte." 

49.  Batlet.  The  small  bat  used  for  beating  clothes  while  wash- 
ing them.  The  first  folio  has  "  batler,"  which  has  the  same  mean- 
ing, and  is  retained  by  some  editors. 

50.  67z^// =  chapped.  Cf.  J.C.  i.  2.  246:  "their  chopt  hands," 
etc. 

51.  Peascod.  Pea-pod.  It  was  often  used  in  rustic  divination  of 
love  affairs.  Mr.  Davy,  speaking  of  Suffolk,  says :  "  The  kitchen- 
maid,  when  she  shells  green  pease,  never  omits,  if  she  finds  one 
having  nine  pease,  to  lay  it  on  the  lintel  of  the  kitchen-door ;  and 
the  first  clown  who  enters  it  is  infallibly  to  be  her  husband,  or  at 
least  her  sweetheart."  "  Winter-time  for  shoeing,  peascod  time  for 
wooing  "  is  an  old  Devonshire  proverb.  Cf.  Browne,  Britannia'' s 
Pastorals  :  — 

"  The  peascod  greene  oft  with  no  little  toyle 
Hee'd  seeke  for  in  the  fattest,  fertil'st  soile, 
And  rend  it  from  the  stalke  to  bring  it  to  her, 
And  in  her  bosome  for  acceptance  wooe  her." 

52.  Two  cods.  Johnson  suggested  "  two  peas,"  but  ^o^j' or /^«5- 
cods  seems  sometimes  to  have  been  used  for  peas.  Cf.  Beaumont 
and  Fletcher,  Hottest  Man's  Fortune,  iii.  3  :  "  thou  shalt  wear  gold, 
feed  on  delicates,  the  first  peascods,  strawberries,"  etc. 

53.  Weeping  tears.  This  ridiculous  expression  occurs  in  Lodge's 
novel,  and  also  in  the  old  play  of  The  Victories  of  King  Henry  V., 
Peele's y^j'/.r,  etc.  (Steevens). 


196 


Notes  [Act  II 


56.  Mortal  in  folly.  Mortally  foolish.  Mortal  ^=vtty  great,  is 
used  in  various  English  dialects. 

57.  Wiser.  More  wisely.  See  on  iii.  5.  137.  Ware  —  aware,  but 
not  a  contraction  of  that  word,  as  most  modern  eds.  make  it.  It  is 
uniformly  printed  "  ware  "  in  the  folio. 

59.  Till  I  break,  etc.  "Till  I  find  to  my  cost  the  truth  of  some 
of  my  own  aphorisms  "  (Moberly). 

61.  Upon  my  fashion.  After  my  fashion;  as  in  i.  I.  I.  Schmidt 
compares  Lyly,  Euphues  :  "  he  returned  them  a  salute  on  this  man- 
ner ;  "  and  Greene,  Pandosto  :  "  began  to  parley  with  her  on  this 
manner."  Ellis  (^Early  English  Pronunciation^  thinks  that  passion 
and  fashion  here  are  trisyllables. 

71.   Love  or  gold.     Cf.  the  proverbial  phrase,  "  for  love  or  money." 

75.  Faints  for  succour.  That  is,  she  faints  for  want  of  succour. 
Cf.  "  dead  for  breath  "  {Macb.  i.  5.  37),  "  to  sink  for  food  "  {Cymb. 
iii.  6.  17),  etc.  In  T.  G.  of  V.  i.  2.  136,  "for  catching  cold"  =  for 
fear  of  catching  cold. 

79.    That  I  graze.     Of  the  sheep  that  I  feed. 

81.  Little  recks.  Little  cares.  Cf.  T.  G.  of  V.  iv.  3.40:  "reck- 
ing as  little  what  betideth  me." 

83.  Cote.  Cottage  (cf.  92  below).  So  sheepcote  in  next  line  and 
in  iv.  3.  77.  See  also  W.  T.  iv.  4.  808,  etc.  Bounds  of  feed  = 
limits  of  pasturage,  pastures. 

87.  Ln  my  voice.  In  my  name,  so  far  as  I  am  concerned.  Cf. 
M.  for  M.  i.  2.  185  :  "  Implore  her  in  my  voice,"  etc. 

'^%.    What  is  he  ?     Who  is  he  ?     Cf.  ii.  7.  79  below. 

89.  But  erewhile.  Just  now.  Cf.  iii.  5.  104  below.  See  also 
L.  L.  L.  iv.  I.  99,  and  M.  N.  D.  iii.  2.  274. 

91.  Lf  it  stand  with  honesty.  If  it  is  consistent  with  honesty; 
that.is,  with  the  understanding  you  have  with  Silvius.  Cf.  Cor.  ii. 
3.  91,  etc. 

95.  Waste.  Spend.  Cf.  M.  of  V.  iii.  4.  12,  Temp.  v.  i.  302, 
M.  N.  D.  ii.  I.  57,  etc.     See  also  ii.  7.  134  below. 

100.   Feeder.     Shepherd,  the  feeder  of  your  flocks. 


Scene  v]  Notes  197 

Scene  V.  —  3.  Turn.  Pope  and  some  others  change  turn  to 
"  tune."  Whiter  says  that  "  to  turn  a  time,  in  the  counties  of  York 
and  Durham,  is  the  appropriate  and  familiar  phrase  for  modulating 
the  voice  properly  according  to  the  turns  or  air  of  the  tune." 

5.  Come  hither.     Let  him  come  hither. 

6.  Here  shall  he  see,  etc.     Cf.  ii.  I.  6  fol. 

13.    As  a  weasel  sucks  eggs.     Cf.  Hen.  V.  i.  2.  170:  — 

"  For  once  the  eagle  England  being  in  prey, 
To  her  unguarded  nest  the  weasel  Scot 
Comes  sneaking,  and  so  sucks  her  princely  eggs." 

15.  Ragged.  Rough.  S.  elsewhere  uses  ra^f^  where  we  should 
use  rugged.  Cf.  R.  of  L.  892  :  "  Thy  smoothing  titles  to  a  ragged 
name;  "  Sonn.  6.  i  :  "winter's  ragged  hand,"  etc. 

18.  Stanzo.  The  folio  reading,  and  found  in  other  books  of  the 
time.  S.  uses  the  word  only  here  and  in  L.  L.  L.  iv.  2.  99,  where 
the  folio  has  stanze. 

25.  The  encounter,  etc.  The  grinning  of  two  monkeys  at  each 
other.  Bartholomaeus  says  of  apes :  "  some  be  call  cenophe  ;  and  be 
lyke  to  an  hounde  in  the  face,  and  in  the  body  lyke  to  an  ape." 
Maplett,  in  his  Green  Forest,  or  a  Natural  History,  1567,  speaks  of 
five  kinds  of  apes,  one  of  which  "  is  not  much  unlike  our  dog  in 
figure  or  shew."  The  reference  here,  as  in  S.,  is  probably  to  the 
dog-faced  baboon,  the  Simia  hamadryas  of  Linnaeus. 

28.  The  beggarly  thanks.  "  The  professionally  benedictive  thanks 
of  a  beggar  "  (Moberly). 

30.  Cover  the  while.  Spread  the  table  in  the  meantime.  Cf. 
M.  of  V.  iii.  5.  57,  65,  and  2  Hen.  IV.  ii.  4.  11.  For  the  while,  see 
Temp.  iii.  I.  24,  Macb.  ii.   I.  29,  etc. 

31.  Drink.  The  folio  reading,  changed  in  many  eds.  to  "dine," 
which  is  sufficiently  implied  in  cover.  As  Capell  remarks,  drink 
"tells  something  more,  —  that  he  meant  to  pass  the  afternoon  there, 
under  the  shade  of  that  tree." 


198  Notes  [Act  II 

32.  To  look  you.  To  look  for  you.  Cf.  A.  W.  iii.  6.  115  :  **I 
must  go  look  my  twigs,"  etc. 

34.  Disputable.  Disputatious.  Adjectives  in  -able  are  often  used 
actively. 

35.  I  give  heaven  thanks,  Qic.  A  proverbial  expression.  Ci.  Much 
Ado,  iii.  3.  19 :  "  Why,  give  God  thanks,  and  make  no  boast  of  it." 

38.  To  live  i'  the  sun.  That  is,  "  a  life  of  open-air  freedom,"  or 
of  "  careless  idleness." 

46.  In  despite  of  my  invention.  "As  imagination  w^ould  do 
nothing  for  me,  I  spited  it  by  the  following  choice  composition " 
(Moberly).      To  this  note  =  to  the  same  tune. 

53.  Ducdame.  A  word  on  which  the  commentators  have  wasted 
much  ink,  without  giving  a  satisfactory  answer  to  the  question  of 
Amiens,  "What's  that  ducdame?''''  It  is  probably  mere  nonsense 
coined  for  the  occasion,  echoing  in  rhythm  and  accent  the  come 
hither  of  the  song. 

58.  To  call  fools  into  a  circle.  Moberly  adds,  '*  for  the  purpose 
of  etymologically  and  linguistically  investigating  the  meaning  of 
ducdame  ;  "  which  is  a  fair  hit  at  the  commentators,  one  of  whom 
(followed  by  several  others)  seriously  argues  that  the  word  is 
"  manifestly  "  the  call  of  the  dame,  or  housewife,  to  her  ducks  ! 

59.  Go  sleep.  See  on  i.  i.  73  above.  The  first-born  of  Egypt 
(^Exodus,  xi.  5)  probably  has  no  definite  meaning  here  ;  or,  as 
Nares  suggests,  "  perhaps  Jaques  is  only  intended  to  say  that,  if  he 
cannot  sleep,  he  will,  like  other  discontented  people,  rail  against 
his  betters," 

61.  Banquet.  Probably  here  =  dinner,  feast  ;  as  in  Much 
Ado,  ii.  I.  178.  It  sometimes  meant  only  the  dessert  ;  as  in  T.  of 
^.  V.  2.  9  :  — 

"  My  banquet  is  to  close  our  stomachs  up 
After  our  great  good  cheer." 

Scene  VI.  —  2.  For  food.  That  is,  for  want  of  it.  See  on  ii. 
4.  75  above.      Here  lie  I  down,  etc.     Cf.  R.  and  J.  iii.  3.  70 :  — 


Scene  VII]  Notes  199 

"  And  fall  upon  the  ground,  as  I  do  now, 
Taking  the  measure  of  an  unmade  grave." 

5.  Comfort.  That  is,  comfort  thyself ;  or  it  may  be  =  take 
comfort,  be  comforted. 

6.  Uncouth.  Unknown,  strange  ;  its  original  sense.  Cf.  R.  of 
L.  1598  :  "What  uncouth  ill  event  Hath  thee  befallen?"  and 
Milton,  P.  L.  ii.  406  :  — 

"  And  through  the  palpable  obscure  find  out 
His  uncouth  way." 

8.  Thy  conceit,  etc.  You  think  yourself  nearer  to  death  than 
you  are.  Conceit  often  =  conception,  idea,  thought,  etc.  Cf.  Ham. 
iii.  4.  114:  "  Conceit  (that  is,  fancy  or  imagination)  in  weakest 
bodies  strongest  works." 

10.    Presently.     Immediately.     Cf.   Temp.  iv.  1.42,  v.  I.  ioi,etc. 

13.  Well  said !  "Well  spoken  and  to  the  purpose."  He  con- 
gratulates himself  that  his  words  make  Adam  "look  cheerly."  It 
often  means,  "  Well  done ! "  as  in  I   Hen.  IV.  v.  4.  75,  etc. 

Thou  lookest  cheerly.  That  is,  cheerily,  cheerfully.  Cf.  T.  of 
A.  ii.  2.  223  :  "  Prithee,  man,  look  cheerly  !  "  etc.  See  also  ii.  7. 
II  below,  and  cf.  i.  2.  153  above. 

Scene  VII. —  l.  /  think  he  be.  The  subjunctive  is  often  used 
after  verbs  of  thinking.     Cf.  0th.  iii.  3.  443,  etc. 

3.  But  even  now.     But  just  now.     Cf.  Tetnp.  v.  i.  232,  etc. 

4.  Hearing  of.     See  on  ii.  4.  44. 

5.  Cofnpact  of  jars.  All  made  up  of  discords.  Cf.  M.  JV.  D.  v. 
I.  8  :  "  of  imagination  all  compact,"  etc. 

6.  The  spheres.  An  allusion  to  the  Pythagorean  doctrine  of  the 
music  of  the  spheres.  Cf.  T.  N.  iii.  i.  121,  M.  of  V.  v.  i,  60, 
A.  and  C.  v.  2.  84,  etc.  See  also  Milton,  Hymn  on  Nativity, 
125-132,  etc. 

13.    Motley.     The  party-coloured  dress  of  the  professional  fool. 


200  Notes  [Act  II 

The  word  is  used  as  a  noun  (==  fool)  in  Sonn.  no.  2,  and  in  iii. 
3.  78  below. 

A  miserable  world !  "  Jaques  for  the  moment  laughs  at  his  own 
melancholy  view  of  the  world,  having  just  heard  it  echoed  by  a 
professional  jester  "  (Clarke). 

16.  RaWd  on.  S.  uses  on  or  upon  after  rail  oftener  than  at. 
Against  {?,  sometimes  the  preposition  ;  as  inii.  5.  57  and  iii.  2.  262  of 
the  present  play.  For  Lady  Fortune  cf.  W.  T.  iv,  4.  51  :  "  O 
Lady  Fortune  !  "  Temp.  i.  2.  178  :  "bountiful  Fortune,  Now  my 
dear  lady,"  etc.     See  also  on  i.  2.  31. 

19.  Call  me  not  fool,  etc.  An  allusion  to  the  old  proverb  : 
"  Fortune  favours  fools,  or  fools  have  the  best  luck  "  (Ray,  English 
Proverbs,  1670). 

20.  A  dial.  This  in  the  time  of  S.  might  mean  either  a  watch  or 
a  portable  sun-dial,  and  it  is  doubtful  which  is  intended  here.  Cf. 
A.  W.  ii.  5.6:  "  my  dial  goes  not  true,"  etc.  Poke  =  pouch, 
pocket.  We  still  use  the  word  in  the  proverb,  "to  buy  a  pig  in  a 
poke."     Pocket  is  a  diminutive  of  it. 

26.  Ripe.  Ripen  ;  as  in  M.  of  V.  ii.  8.  40  :  "  the  very  riping 
of  the  time."  It  is  used  transitively  in  K.  John,  ii.  i.  472  :  "  no 
sun  to  ripe  the  bloom  ;"  and  in  2  Hen.  IV.  iv.  i.  13  :  "  to  ripe  his 
growing  fortunes." 

29.  Moral.  Moralize  ;  the  only  instance  of  the  verb  in  S. 
Some  make  it  an  adjective. 

30.  Crow.  Cf.  T.  G.  of  V.  ii.  i.  28:  "You  were  wont,  when 
you  laughed,  to  crow  like  a  cock."     See  also  T.  N.  i.  5.  95. 

31.  Deep- contemplative.     Compound  adjectives  are  not  rare  in  S. 

32.  Sa7is.  Cf.  166  below.  See  also  Tetnp.  i.  2.  97,  L.  L.  Z.  v.  i. 
91,  etc.  It  was  much  used  by  the  writers  of  the  time,  and  appears 
to  have  been  viewed  as  an  English  word.  Cotgrave  (^Fr.  Dict^ 
translates  sans  by  "  sanse,  without, besides  ";  and  Florio  (//«/.  Diet.) 
gives  "  sanse  "  as  an  English  equivalent  for  senza.  Intermission  is 
here  five  syllables. 

34.    The  only  wear.    The  only  thing  to  wear,  the  only  dress  in 


Scene  VII]  Notes  20I 

fashion.  Cf.  W.  T.  iv.  4.  327 :  "  Of  the  new'st  and  finest,  finest 
wear-a;  "  M.  for  M.  iii.  2.  78:  "it  is  not  the  wear,"  etc. 

39.  Dry,  etc.  Boswell  quotes  Jonson's  Every  Man  Out  of  his 
Humour,  ind. :  — 

"  And  now  and  then  breaks  a  dry  biscuit  jest, 
Which,  that  it  may  more  easily  be  chew'd, 
He  steeps  in  his  own  laughter." 

40.  Strange  places.  Odd  corners.  Some  explain//«r^j  as  "  topics 
or  subjects  of  discourse,"  but  this  does  not  suit  so  well  with  crammed. 
The  which  refers  to  observation  (knowledge  gained  by  observa- 
tion), not,  as  some  suppose,  io  places. 

44.  Sttit,  For  the  play  on  the  word  cf.  iv.  I.  ^t,  below.  See  also 
I  Hen.  IV.  i.  2.  81.  - 

48,  As  the  wind.  That  "bloweth  where  it  listeth  "  {fohn  iii.  8). 
Cf.  T.  and  C.  i.  3.  253  :  "  Speak  frankly  as  the  wind;"  Cor.  i.  9.  89  : 
"  as  free  as  is  the  wind; "  and  Hen.  /^  i.  I.  48 :  "  The  air, a  charter'd 
libertine." 

53-57.   He  that,  etc.     In  the  folio  the  passage  reads  thus:  — 

"  Hee,  that  a  Foole  doth  very  wisely  hit, 
Doth  very  foolishly,  although  he  smart 
Seeme  senselesse  of  the  bob.     If  not, 
The  Wise-mans  folly  is  anathomiz'd 
Euen  by  the  squandring  glances  of  the  foole." 

In  55  some  read  "Not  to  seem;"  others  "  But  to  seem,"  etc.  The 
meaning  is  essentially  the  same,  but  the  latter  seems  more  Shake- 
spearian. The  sense  then  is :  He  whom  a  fool  happens  to  hit  well 
is  very  foolish  unless  he  appears  not  to  feel  the  rap ;  otherwise  his 
folly  is  laid  bare  even  by  the  random  sallies  of  the  fool.  For 
senseless  =  insensible,  cf.  Cymb.  i.  i.  135 :  "I  am  senseless  of  your 
wrath,"  etc.  Bob  =  rap,  hit,  is  not  found  elsewhere  in  S.,  but  we 
have  the  verb  (=  beat,  drub)  in  Rich.  III.  v.  3.  334  and  T.  and  C. 
ii.  I.  76.  For  anatomize  =  lay  open,  disclose,  cf.  i.  I.  153  above. 
Squander  is  used  by  S.  only  here  and  in  M.  of  V.  i.  3.  22 :   "  other 


202  Notes  [Act  II 

ventures  he  hath,  squandered  abroad;"  that  is,  scattered  abroad. 
In  0th.  iii.  3.  151  ("his  scattering  and  unsure  observance  ")  scatter- 
ing is  used  much  Hke  squandering  here. 

63.  For  a  counter,  A  cou7tter  was  a  round  piece  of  metal  used 
in  calculations.  It  is  used  contemptuously  for  coins  in  J.  C.  iv.  3. 
80 :   "  such  rascal  counters." 

66.  T/ie  brutish  sting.  Animal  passion.  Cf.  M.  for  M.  i.  4.  59  : 
"The  wanton  stings  and  motions  of  the  sense;  "  and  0th.  i.  3.  335  : 
"  our  carnal  stings,  our  unbitted  lusts." 

67.  Embossed.  Tumid;  as  in  Lear,  ii.  4.  227:  "an  embossed 
carbuncle."  Headed  =  gxov^n  to  a  head.  In  the  only  other  in- 
stance of  the  verb  in  S.  {M.for  M.  ii.  i.  250:  "it  is  but  heading 
and  hanging  ")  it  means  to  behead. 

70.  Why,  who  cries  out,  etc.  "  Chide  as  I  will,  why  should  I 
offend  them  ?  Who  can  say  that  I  mean  him  ?  Jaques  appears 
either  wilfully  or  through  shallowness  to  miss  the  deep  wisdom  of 
the  Duke's  saying,  and  the  whole  character  of  his  admonition.  The 
Duke  had  not  said  that  Jaques  would  offend  people,  but  that  he 
would  corrupt  them  "  (Moberly). 

71.  Tax.  Censure.  See  on  i.  2.  85,  and  cf.  86  below.  Private 
=  "particular,  opposed  to  general;"  as  in  Sonn.  9.  7:  "every  pri- 
vate widow." 

73.  The  wearer'' s  very  means.  The  folio  has  "wearie  verie 
meanes,"  which  some  retain,  but  the  emendation  in  the  text  is 
generally  adopted.     Cf.  Hen.  VIII.  i.  i.  83  :  — 

"  O,  many 
Have  broke  their  backs  with  laying  manors  on  'em 
For  this  great  journey." 

75.  When  that.     See  on  i.  3.  42. 

76.  The  cost  of  princes,  etc.  Cf.  2  Hen.  VI.  i.  3.  83 :  "  She  bears 
a  duke's  revenues  on  her  back." 

77.  Come  in.     Intervene;   as  in  31.  for  M.  ii.  i.  31. 
79.    Of  basest  function.     Of  the  meanest  position. 


Scene  VII]  Notes  203 

80.  Bravery.  Finery.  Cf.  T.  of  S.  iv.  3.  57:  "With  scarfs  and 
fans  and  double  change  of  bravery."  Cf.  also  brave  =  fine,  beauti- 
ful; as  in  Temp.  i.  2.  6,  411,  iii.  2,  104,  in,  113,  v.  i.  183,  261,  etc. 
On  my  cost  =  at  my  expense.  Cf.  Hen.  V.  iv.  3.  25 :  *'  doth  feed 
upon  my  cost." 

82.  Mettle.  Substance,  purport.  The  early  eds.  make  no  dis- 
tinction between  metal  and  mettle. 

84.  Do  him  right.  Give  him  his  due,  do  him  justice;  as  in  M, 
for  M.  ii.  2.  \OT^,  Rich.  II.  ii.  3.  138,  and  many  other  passages. 

85.  Free.  Innocent;  as  in  W.  T.  i.  2.  251,  Ham.  ii.  2.  590, 
Oih.  ii.  3.  343,  etc. 

88.  Eat.  S.  uses  both  eat  and  eaten  for  the  participle,  and  the 
former  regularly  (so  far  as  the  early  eds.  show)  for  the  past  tense. 

90.  Of  what  kind,  etc.  Of  what  race,  etc.  On  the  double 
preposition,  cf.  in,  139  below.  See  also  A.  W.  i.  2.  29,  T.  and  C.  v. 
I.  63,  Cor.  ii.  I.  18,  etc. 

91.  Boldened.  Not  a  contraction  of  emboldened,  as  sometimes 
printed.  Cf.  Hen.  VIII.  i.  2.  55.  Bold  is  used  as  a  verb  in  the 
same  sense  in  lear,  v.  i.  26. 

94.    Vein.     Disposition,  temper.     At  first  x^izx's,  of  course  to  91. 

96.  Inlajtd  bred.  Brought  up  in  the  interior  of  the  country,  as 
opposed  to  the  less  populous  and  less  cultivated  frontiers,  or  perhaps 
to  mountainous  districts.     Cf.  iii.  2.  341  below. 

97.  Nurture.  Culture,  good-breeding.  Cf.  Temp.  iv.  i.  189. 
So  ill-nurtured  =■  ill-bred  in  V.  and  A.  134  and  2  Hen.  VI.  i.  2.  42. 

99.   Answered.     Satisfied;   as  in  y.  C.  v.  i.  i,  etc. 
104.   For  food.     See  on  ii.  4.  75  above. 

109.  Co77imandment.  Command;  as  in  W.  7111.2.8:  "I  have 
express  commandment,"  etc. 

1 10.  Inaccessible.  Hard  of  access,  "almost  inaccessible  "  (  Temp. 
ii.  I.  37). 

114.   KnolVd.     Cf.  Macb.  v.  8.  50  and  2  Hen.  IV.  i.  i.  103. 
118.    Enforcement.     Cf.  A.   W.  v.  3.  107:  "by  what  rough  en- 
forcement You  got  it,"  etc. 


204  Notes  [Act  II 

125.    upon  cotnmand.     At  your  will  or  pleasure. 
128.    Whiles.     Cf.  V.  4.  5,  137  below;   also  M.  No  D.  iii.  2.  374, 
etc.     On  like  a  doe,  cf.   V.  and  A.  875. 

131.  Suffic'd.  Satisfied.  Cf,  K.  John,  i.  i.  191 :  "when  my 
knightly  stomach  is  suffic'd,"  etc. 

132.  Weak  evils.  That  is,  causing  weakness;  the  cause  and 
effect  being  transposed,  as  very  often. 

139.  All  the  world'' s  a  stage.  The  comparison  is  very  common 
in  writers  of  the  time.    Cf.  Edwardes,  Damon  and  Pythias,  1571 :  — 

"  Pythagoras  said,  that  this  world  was  like  a  stage, 
Whereon  many  play  their  parts ;  " 

Sidney,  Arcadia  :  "  She  found  the  world  but  a  wearisome  stage  to 
her,  where  she  played  a  part  against  her  will,"  etc. 

143.  Seven  ages.  The  division  of  man's  life  into  seven,  ten,  or 
more  periods  or  "  ages  "  was  likewise  common,  and  dates  back  to 
very  ancient  times.  Plato  attributes  to  Hippocrates  the  division 
of  man's  life  into  seven  periods.  In  the  Mishna  fourteen  periods 
are  given,  and  a  poem  upon  the  ten  stages  of  life  was  written  by  the 
great  Hebrew  commentator  Ibn  Ezra  (Browning's  "  Rabbi  Ben 
Ezra").  Sir  Thomas  Browne  devotes  a  chapter  of  his  Vulgar 
Errors  (iv.  12)  to  the  various  divisions  which  have  been  proposed. 
As  Grant  White  remarks  (^Tale  of  the  Forest  of  Arden),  all  these 
stages  of  life  are  here  described  "in  scoffing  and  disparaging  terms  "; 
in  fact,  Jaques  "  seized  the  occasion  to  sneer  at  the  representatives 
of  the  whole  human  race." 

144.  Mewling.     Squalling  ;   used  by  S.  only  here. 

146.  Like  snail.  Halliwell-Phillipps  quotes  Browne,  Britan- 
nia^ s  Pastorals :  — 

"  Or  with  their  hats  (for  fish)  lade  in  a  brooke 
Withouten  paine  :  but  when  the  morne  doth  looke   / 
Out  of  the  easterne  gates,  a  snayle  would  faster 
Glide  to  the  schooles,  then  they  unto  their  master."   : 


Scene  VII]  Notes  205 

148.  Sighing  like  furnace.  Cf.  Cymb.  i.  6.  66  :  "  He  furnaces 
The  thick  sighs  from  him." 

150.  Ficll  of  strange  oaths.  Sir  James  Douglas,  one  day  hearing 
the  exclamation  "  The  devil !  "  pronounced  with  great  emphasis  in 
a  cottage,  immediately  concluded  "that  some  gallant  knights  or 
good  men-at-arms  were  lurking  there  "  (^Pict.  Hist,  of  Eng.  ii.  264). 
Soldiers  have  always  "  sworn  terribly,"  and  not  "  in  Flanders  "  alone. 
Cf  Hen.  V.  iii.  6.  78.  Bearded  like  the  pard  probably  refers,  as 
Furness  suggests,  to  "  the  general  shagginess  characteristic  of  a  true 
soldier  on  duty  in  the  field,  as  distinguished  from  the  trim  nicety  of 
a  carpet  knight." 

151.  Sudden.  Impetuous, passionate.  Cf.J/<3:<:(5.  iv.3. 59  :  "Sudden, 
malicious  ;  "  0th.  ii.  I.  279  :  "  rash  and  very  sudden  in  choler,"  etc. 

155.  Beard  of  formal  cut.  Cf.  Hen.  F.  iii.  6.  80  :  "a  beard  of 
the  general's  cut,"  etc. 

156.  Wise  saws,  etc.  "Wise  maxims  and  trite  illustrations.  For 
modern  =  commonpla.ce,  trivial,  cf.  Macb.  iv.  3.  170  :  "a  modern 
ecstasy  ;  "  A.  W.  ii.  3.  2  :  "  modern  and  familiar,"  etc.  See  also 
iv.  I.  7  below.  For  instances,  cf.  Much  Ado,  v.  2.  78  :  "an  old 
instance,"  etc. 

158.  Pantaloon.  The  word  and  character  were  borrowed  from 
the  Italian  stage.  Cf.  Addison's  Remarks  on  Several  Parts  of  Italy  : 
"There  are  four  standing  characters  which  enter  into  every  piece 
that  comes  on  the  stage  :  the  Doctor,  Harlequin,  Panialone,  and 
Coviello  .  .  .  Panialone  is  generally  an  old  Cully,  and  Coviello  a 
Sharper."  Capell  quotes  from  The  Travels  of  three  English  Broth- 
ers, 1607,  a  dialogue  between  an  Italian  Harlequin  and  Kemp,  the 
actor  :  — 

"  Harl.   Marry  sir,  first  we  will  have  an  old  Pantaloune. 

Kemp.   Some  iealous  Coxcombe. 

Harl.   Right,  and  that  part  will  I  play." 

In  Calot's  plates  illustrating  the  Italian  comedy  is  one  in  which  the 
ancient  pantaloon  wears  slippers. 

160.   Hose.    See  on  ii.  4.  6  above.     A  world  vfdA  then  as  now  a 


2o6  Notes  [Act  III 

common  hyperbole.  Cf.  0th.  i.  3.  159  :  "a  world  of  sighs;  "  AT. 
N.  D.  ii.  I.  223  :  "worlds  of  company;  "  Hen.  VIII.  iii.  2.  211  : 
"  all  the  world  of  wealth,"  etc. 

163.  His.    For  its,  which  was  just  coming  into  use  in  the  time  of  S. 

166.    Sans.     See  on  32  above. 

171.  Fall  to.  Used  by  S.  in  other  connections  than  of  eating. 
Cf.  2  Hen.  IV.  v.  5.  51  :  "  fall  to  thy  prayers  ;  "/.  C.  v.  3.  7  :  "his 
soldiers  fell  to  spoil,"  etc.     See  also  v.  4.  179  below. 

175.  Unkind.  Explained  by  some  critics  as  =  unnatural  (cf. 
Lear,  iii.  4.  73,  i  Hen.  VI.  iv.  i.  193,  etc.),  but  it  may  have  its 
ordinary  sense. 

178.  Because  thou  art  not  seen.  That  is,  "thy  rudeness  gives 
the  less  pain,  as  thou  art  an  enemy  that  dost  not  brave  us  with  thy 
presence,  and  whose  unkindness  is  therefore  not  aggravated  by 
insult"  (Johnson).  Capell  quotes  Lear,  iii.  2.  16-18  :  "I  tax  not 
you,  you  elements,  with  unkindness,"  etc. 

180.  Holly.  "  Songs  of  the  holly  were  current  long  before  the 
time  of  S.     It  was  the  emblem  of  mirth  "  (Halliwell-Phillipps). 

187.  The  waters  warp.  Either  referring  to  the  curving  of  the 
surface  in  freezing,  or  in  a  more  general  sense  to  the  change  under- 
gone. Warp  is  elsewhere  =  change,  distort,  etc.  Cf.  W.  T.  i.  2. 
365,  A.  W.  V.  3.  49,  Lear,  iii.  6.  56,  etc. 

189.  As  friend  remember'' d  not.  "As  what  an  unremembered 
friend  feels  "  (Moberly) . 

193.  Effigies.  Effigy,  likeness  ;  a  trisyllable,  with  the  accent  on 
the  second  syllable. 

194.  Limned.  Painted.  Used  by  S.  only  here  and  in  V.  and  A. 
290.     Dislimn  (  =  efface)  occurs  in  A.  and  C.  iv.  14.  10. 


ACT  III 


Scene  I.  —  2.    The  better  part.     For  the  greater  part.     The  prep- 
osition is  often  omitted  in  adverbial  expressions  of  time,  manner,  etc. 


Scene  II]  Notes  207 

3.  Argument.     See  on  i.  2.  280  above. 

4.  Thou  present.     You  being  present. 

6.  Seek  him  with  candle.  As  Steevens  remarks,  alluding  prob- 
ably to  Luke,  XV.  8. 

7.  Turn.  Return  ;  as  in  Rich.  III.  iv.  4.  184  :  "  Ere  from  this 
war  thou  turn  a  conqueror,"  etc. 

II.  Quit  thee.  Clear  or  acquit  thyself.  Cf.  Hen.  V.  ii.  2.  166  : 
"  God  quit  you  in  his  mercy  !  " 

16.  Of  such  a  nature.     That  is,  whose  duty  it  is. 

17.  Make  an  exterit,  etc.  Put  in  an  extendi  facias,  etc.  Lord 
Campbell,  in  Shakespeare's  Legal  Acqtiirements,  quotes  this  passage 
as  illustrating  the  poet's  knowledge  of  law,  the  writ  of  extendi  facias 
applying  to  houses  and  lands,  as  that  oi  fieri  facias  to  goods  and 
chattels,  and  that  of  capias  ad  satisfaciendum  to  the  person.  Fur- 
ness,  however,  shows  that  this  process  by  extent  could  not  legally  be 
resorted  to  under  the  existing  facts,  because  an  extent  could  only  be 
made  after  forfeiture  or  judgment. 

18.  Expediently.  Expeditiously,  quickly.  So  expedient  =ex'^e- 
ditious  ;  as  in  K.  John,  ii.  I.  60  and  Rich,  II.  i.  4.  39.  Turn  him 
going  ■=  send  him  packing  ;   as  vcij.  C.  iii.  3.  38. 

Scene  II.  —  2.  Thrice-crowned.  Cf.  M.  N.  D.v.  i.  391:  "By 
the  triple  Hecate's  team."  Singer  quotes  from  Chapman's  Hym- 
nus  in  Cynthiam  a  passage  which  may  have  been  in  Shakespeare's 

mind  :  — 

"  Nature's  bright  eye-sight,  and  the  night's  fair  soul, 
That  with  thy  triple  forehead  dost  control 
Earth,  seas,  and  hell." 

4.  My  full  life  doth  sway.  Cf.  7".  iV".  ii.  5.  118:  "doth  sway  my 
life." 

6.  Character.  Write,  inscribe.  Cf.  Sonn.  108.  i,  R.  of  L.  807, 
T.  G.  of  V.  ii.  7.  4,  etc.  S.  accents  the  verb  either  on  the  first  or 
second  syllable;   the  noun  on  the  first,  except  in  Rich.  LIL  iii.  i.  81. 

7.  That.     So  that.     See  on  i.  2.  127  above. 


2o8  Notes  [Act  III 

lo.  Unexpressive.  Inexpressible.  Cf.  Milton,  Lycidas,  176: 
"the  unexpressive  nuptial  song;  "  Hymn  on  A^ativ.  116:  "With 
unexpressive  notes. "  Cf.  also  insuppressive  =  not  to  be  suppressed 
■(_/.  C.  ii.  I.  134),  unconiprehensive  =  unknown  (Z*.  and  C.  iii.  3. 
198),  plausive  =  plausible,  specious  (A.  W.  i.  2.  53),  respective  = 
respectable  (Z".  G.  of  V.  iv.  4.  200),  etc.  For  j/^^  =  woman,  cf. 
T.  N.  i.  5.  259  :  "  the  cruellest  she  alive  ;  "  Hen.  V.  ii.  i.  83  :  "  the 
only  she;  "  Cymb.  i.  6.  40:  "two  such  shes,"  etc.  See  also  he  in 
388  below. 

15.  Naught.     Bad.     See  on  i.  2.  64  above. 

16.  Private.  Lonely,  solitary.  Qi.  Hen.  VII I.  \\.  2.1^'.  "  I  left 
him  private,"  etc. 

21.   Hast.     Cf.  32  below:   "Wast  ever  in  court?" 

30.  Of  good  breeding.  That  is,  of  the  want  of\i.  See  on  ii.  4. 
75  above. 

40.  Good  mamiers.  A  play  upon  words,  majtners  being  used 
for  morals  as  well  as  for  habits  or  deportment-.  No  such  term  as 
morals  is  found  in  the  old  dictionaries  and  authors. 

43.  Parlous.  A  vulgar  corruption  oi perilous.  Cf,  M.  N.  D.  iii. 
I.  14:  "a  parlous  fear,"  etc. 

47.    But  you  kiss.     Without  kissing. 

50.  Instance.  Proof.  Cf.  Much  Ado,  ii.  2.  42:  "They  will 
scarcely  believe  this  without  trial;   offer  them  instances,"  etc. 

51.  Still.     Continually;    as  in  i.  2.  227,  and  often. 

52.  Fells.  Fleeces.  Cf.  Macb.  v.  5.  11 :  "my  fell  of  hair;" 
Lear^  v.  3.  24 :  "  flesh  and  fell,"  etc. 

54.  A  mutton.  A  sheep.  Cf.  T.  G.  of  V.  i.  i.  loi :  "a  lost  mut- 
ton; "  M.  of  V.'x.  3.  168:   "flesh  of  muttons,  beefs,  or  goats,"  etc. 

59.  More  sounder.  Cf.  "  more  worthier "  (iii.  3.  58  below), 
"more  elder"  {M.  of  V.  iv.  i.  251),  "more  better"  {^Tenip.  i.  2. 
19),  etc. 

65.  Perpend.  Ponder,  consider;  a  word  used  only  by  Pistol, 
Polonius,  and  the  clowns.  Cf.  M,  W.  ii.  i.  119,  Ham.  ii.  2.  105, 
etc. 


Scene  II]  Notes  209 

70.  God  make  incision  in  thee  !  "  God  give  thee  a  better  under- 
standing, thou  art  very  raw  and  simple  as  yet "  (Heath).  The  ref- 
erence is  probably  to  bleeding  as  a  method  of  cure.     Cf.  L.  L,  L. 

iv.  3-  97- 

71.  On   raw  =  green,    inexperienced,  cf.  M.    of   V.  iii.  4.   77, 

Rich.  II.  ii.  3.  42,  etc. 

73.  Owe  no  man  hate.  Q.i.  Romans,  xiii.  8 :  "  Owe  no  man  any- 
thing, but  to  love  one  another." 

74.  Content  with  my  harm.     "  Patient  in  tribulation. " 

81.  Scape.  Not  a  contraction  of  escape.  Cf.  Bacon,  Adv.  of  L, 
ii.  14.  9  :  "  had  scaped  shipwreck,"  etc. 

84.  East.  Eastern.  Ind  is  printed  "  Inde "  in  the  folio,  and 
the  vowel  is  doubtless  meant  to  be  long;  as  in  L.  L.  L.  iv.  3,  222, 
where  the  word  rhymes  with  blind. 

88.   Liri'd.     Delineated,  drawn. 

91.  Fair.     Beauty;   as  often.     Cf.  Sonn.   16.    11 :  "Neither  in 

inward  worth  nor  outward  fair,"  etc.     Steevens  quotes  from  Lodge's 

novel :  — 

"  Then  muse  not,  nymphes,  though  I  bemone 

The  absence  of  fair  Rosalynde, 

Since  for  her  fair  there  is  fairer  none,"  etc. 

92.  Rhyme  you.  Cf.  Hen.  V.  iii.  6.  74 :  "  they  will  learn  you  by 
rote  where  services  were  done;  "  T.  ajid  C.  i.  2.  188:  "he  will 
weep  you,  an  't  w^ere  a  man  born  in  April,"  etc. 

94.  Butter-women'' s  rank.  That  is,  their  jog-trot  one  after  an- 
other.    For  right  =  true,  downright,  cf.  116  and  272  below. 

99.  If  the  cat,  etc.  A  common  proverbial  phrase.  Cf.  the  Enter- 
lude  of  Jacob  and  Esau,  1568 :  "  Cat  after  kinde,  saith  the  proverbe, 
swete  milke  wil  lap;"  Florio's  Second  Frutes,  1591 :  "cat  after 
kinde  will  either  hunt  or  scratch,"  etc. 

109.  False  gallop.  "Forced  gait"  (i  Hen.  IV.  iii.  i.  135). 
S.  uses  gallop  only  in  this  expression,  which  occurs  again  in  Much 
Ado,  iii.  4.  94.  Malone  quotes  Nash's  Pierce  Pennilesse,  1593:  "I 
would  trot  a  false  gallop  through  the  rest  of  his  ragged  verses,  but 

AS   YOU   LIKE   IT — 1 4 


dio  Notes  [Act  III 

that  if  I  should  retort  the  rime  doggrell  aright,  I  must  make  my 
verses  (as  he  doth  his)  run  hobbHng,  like  a  brewer's  cart  upon  the 
stones,  and  observe  no  measure  in  their  feet." 

113.  Graff.  Graft;  w^hich  is  a  later  form  of  the  vi^ord.  Cf. 
2  Hen.  IV.  V.  3.  3:  "of  my  own  graffing,"  etc.  See  also  jnis- 
graffed  in  M.  N.  D.\.  I.  137.  Graft  occurs  in  Co7'.  ii.  I.  206: 
"  grafted  to  your  relish,"  etc. 

114.  A  medlar.  The  fruit  of  the  Mespilus  Germanica,  a  tree 
still  common  in  England.  It  was  not  considered  fit  to  eat  until  it 
was  overripe,  or  "rotten."  There  is  here  a  play  on  medlar  and 
meddler,  as  in  T.  of  A.  iv.  3.  307  fol.  Steevens  thought  that  call- 
ing the  medlar. /^£'  earliest  fruit  showed  that  S.  had  "  little  knowl- 
edge in  gardening,"  as  it  is  a  very  late  fruit;  but  Rosalind  says  "  for 
you  '11  be  rotten  ere  you  be  half  ripe." 

123.  For.  Because.  Cf.  M.  of  V.  i.  3. 43  :  "I  hate  him  for  he 
is  a  Christian."  In  this  passage  if  we  put  a  comma  before  for,  it 
still  means  because,  but  the  connection  is  looser.     Cf.  M.  for  Af.  ii. 

I.  27:  — 

"  You  may  not  so  extenuate  his  offence 

For  I  have  had  such  faults ;  " 

that  is,  the  fact  that  I  have  been  guilty  is  no  excuse  for  him.  Put 
a  comma  after  offence  and  the  passage  becomes  nonsense. 

125.  Civil  sayings.  "Maxims  of  social  life"  (Johnson).  For 
civil  =  civilized,  see  2  Hen.  VI.  iv.  7.  66 :  — 

"  Kent,  in  the  Commentaries  Caesar  writ, 
Is  term'd  the  civil'st  place  of  all  this  isle ;  " 

Cymb.  iii.  6.  23 :  — 

*'  Ho  !  who's  here? 

If  anything  that 's  civil,  speak ;  if  savage, 

Take  or  lend,"  etc. 

127.  Erring.  Errant,  wandering.  Cf.  0th.  i.  3.  362:  "an 
erring  barbarian"  (=  "extravagant  and  wheeling  stranger  "  in  Id. 


Scene  II]  Notes  2 ii 

i.  I.  137);  Ham.  i.  i.  154:  "The  extravagant  and  erring  spirit," 
etc. 

129.  Buckles  in.  Girds  in,  includes.  Cf.  Macb.  v.  2.  15  and 
T.  and  C.  ii.  2.  30. 

133.  Sentence  end.  The  possessive  inflection  was  often  omitted 
in  dissyllables  ending  with  a  sibilant,  and  sometimes  before  sake,  as 
in  253  below. 

136.  Quintessence.  The  fifth  or  highest  essence  of  the  alche- 
mists; and  hence,  figuratively,  the  concentrated  virtue  of  anything. 
S.  uses  the  word  only  here  and  in  Ham.  ii.  2.  321. 

137.  In  little.     In  miniature.     Cf.  L.  C.  90:  "in  little  drawn." 
140.    Wide-enlarged.     "Spread  through  the  world"  (Schmidt). 

Cf.  Temp.  iii.  i .  46 :  — 

"  but  you,  O  you, 
So  perfect  and  so  peerless,  are  created 
Of  every  creature's  best !  " 

142.  Helen's  cheek.  Cf.  Sonn.  53.  7:  "On  Helen's  cheek  all  art 
of  beauty  set." 

144.  Atalanta's  better  part.  What  this  means  has  been  much 
disputed.  Whiter  (who  has  nineteen  octavo  pages  on  the  passage) 
remarks :  "  The  imagery  selected  to  discriminate  the  perfections  of 
Helen,  Cleopatra,  Atalanta,  and  Lucretia  was  not  derived  from  the 
abstract  consideration  of  their  general  qualities,  but  was  caught 
from  those  peculiar  traits  of  beauty  and  character  which  are  im- 
pressed on  the  mind  of  him  who  contemplates  their  portraits.  It 
is  well  known  that  these  celebrated  heroines  of  romance  were,  in 
the  days  of  our  Poet,  the  favourite  subjects  of  popular  representa- 
tion, and  were  alike  visible  in  the  coarse  hangings  of  the  poor  and 
the  magnificent  arras  of  the  rich.  In  the  portraits  of  Helen,  whether 
they  were  produced  by  the  skilful  artist  or  his  ruder  imitator,  though 
her  face  would  certainly  be  delineated  as  eminently  beautiful,  yet 
she  appears  not  to  have  been  adorned  with  any  of  those  charms 
which  are  allied  to  modesty.  .  .  .  With  respect  to  the  'majesty'  of 
Cleopatra,  it  may  be  observed  that  this  notion  is  not  derived  from 


212  Notes  [Act  III 

classical  authority,  but  from  the  more  popular  storehouse  of  legend 
and  romance.  .  .  .  Since  the  story  of  Atalanta  represents  that  hero- 
ine as  possessed  of  singular  beauty,  zealous  to  preserve  her  virginity 
even  with  the  death  of  her  lovers,  and  accomplishing  her  purposes 
by  extraordinary  swiftness  in  running,  we  may  be  assured  that  the 
skill  of  the  artist  would  be  employed  in  displaying  the  most  perfect 
expressions  of  virgin  purity,  and  in  delineating  the  fine  proportions 
aud  elegant  symmetry  of  her  person.  Lucretia  (we  know)  was  the 
grand  example  of  conjugal  fidelity  throughout  the  Gothic  ages;  and 
it  is  this  spirit  of  unshaken  chastity  which  is  here  celebrated  under 
the  title  of  *  modesty.'  Such,  then,  are  the  wishes  of  the  lover  in 
the  formation  of  his  mistress  —  that  the  ripe  and  brilliant  beauties 
of  Helen  should  be  united  to  the  elegant  symmetry  and  virgin 
graces  of  Atalanta;  and  that  this  union  of  charms  should  be  still 
dignified  and  ennobled  by  the  majestic  mien  of  Cleopatra,  and  the 
matron  modesty  of  Lucretia." 

147.  Heavenly  synod.  S.  has  synod  in  six  passages,  and  in  all 
but  one  it  refers  to  an  assembly  of  the  gods.  See  Cor.  v.  2.  74, 
Ham.  ii.  2.  516,  A.  and  C.  iii.  10.  5,  and  Cymb.  v.  4.  89. 

149.    Touches.     Traits,  features.     Cf.  v.  4.  27  below. 

151.   And  I  to  live.     Cf.  v.  4.  22  below. 

\^2.  Jupiter.  The  folio  reading.  Spedding  suggested  "pul- 
piter,"  which  is  plausible;  but  S.  does  not  use  the  word  elsewhere, 
nox  pulpit  (=  rostra)  except  iny.  C.  Cf.  Rosalind's  "  O  Jupiter  !  " 
in  ii.  4.  I. 

159.  Scrip.  The  shepherd's  pouch.  Cf.  i  Samuel,  xvii.  40,  etc. 
S.  has  the  word  only  here  and  in  M.  N.  D.\.2.  3,  where  it  means  list. 

170.  Should.  Sometimes  used  to  denote  a  statement  not  made 
by  the  speaker;  but  it  may  possibly  depend  on  wondering  rather 
than  on  hear. 

172.  The  nine  days.  The  proverbial  nine  that  a  wonder  is 
supposed  to  last.     Cf.  3  Hen.  VI.  iii.  2.  113:  — 

"  Gloucester.   That  would  be  ten  days'  wonder  at  the  least, 
Clarence.  That 's  a  day  longer  than  a  wonder  lasts," 


Scene  II]  Notes  213 

174.  A  palm-tree.  From  Lodge's  novel.  See  on  i.  i.  113  above. 
Pythagoras'  ti??ie.  Moberly  remarks  that  "the  opinions  of  this 
philosopher  are  wittily  explained  in  T.  N.  (iv.  2.  54-60),  and 
forcibly  in  Af.  of  V.    (iv.   I.   131)." 

175.  An  Irish  rat.     Cf.  ]onson,  Poetaster  :  — 

"  Rhyme  them  to  death,  as  they  do  Irish  rats, 
In  drumming  tunes ;  " 

Sidney,  Defence  of  Poesie  :  "  Though  I  will  not  wish  vnto  you,  the 
Asses  ears  of  Midas,  nor  to  bee  driuen  by  a  Poets  verses,  (as 
Bubonax  was)  to  hang  himselfe,  nor  to  be  rimed  to  death,  as  is 
sayd  to  be  doone  in  Ireland,  yet  thus  much  curse  I  must  send  you  ;  " 
and  Randolph,  The  Jealous  Lovers,  v.  2  :  — 

"  Shall  with  a  satire,  steep'd  in  gall  and  vinegar, 
Ryme  'em  to  death,  as  they  do  rats  in  Ireland." 

Wright  remarks  that  the  supposed  effect  of  music  upon  these 
animals  will  be  remembered  by  those  who  have  read  Browning's 
Pied  Piper  of  Harnelin. 

177.  Trow  you.  Know  you.  Cf.  T.  of  S.  i.  2.  165  :  "Trow 
you  whither  I  am  going  ?  "  etc. 

179.   And  a  chain,  etc.     Cf.  i.  2.  247. 

182.  For  friends,  etc.  Cf.  Ray,  Eng.  Proverbs:  "Friends  may 
meet,  but  mountains  never  greet ;  "  Three  Lordes  of  London,  1590  : 
"  I  '11  tell  thee  why  we  meet;  because  we  are  no  mountains;  "  and 
Lyly's  Mother  Bombie,  1594:  "Then  we  two  met,  which  argued 
that  we  were  no  mountains." 

187.  Petitionary.  The  word  occurs  again  in  Cor.  v.  2.82:  "thy 
petitionary  countrymen." 

191.  Out  of  all  whooping.     Beyond  all  exclamations  of  wonder. 

192.  Good  my  complexion  I  "Let  me  not  blush;  "  as  good  an 
explanation  as  any  other  of  the  many  that  have  been  suggested. 
Cf.  180  above. 

193.  Caparisoned.     Used  jestingly,  as  in  T.  of  S.  iii.  2.  67. 


214  Notes  [Act  III 

195.  A  South  Sea  of  discovery.  That  is^  "to  be  searched  for 
discovery;"  the  least  delay  is  as  bad  as  a  voyage  of  discovery. 

.201.   Is  he  of  God^s  making?     CL  Lear,  ii.  2.    59:  "You  cow- 
ardly rascal,  nature  disclaims  in  thee :  a  tailor  made  thee." 

205.  Let  me  stay,  etc.  Tell  me  vi^ho  he  is,  and  I  '11  wait  for  the 
growth  of  his  beard.  For  stay  —  wait  for,  cf.  T.  G.  of  V.  ii.  2.  13, 
Rich.  II.  i.  3.  4,  Macb.  iv.  3.  142,  etc. 

209.  Speak  sad  brow,  etc.  Speak  seriously,  as  you  are  a  true 
maid.  Cf.  Much  Ado,  i.  i.  185  :  "  Speak  you  this  with  a  sad  brow?  " 
and  for  the  construction,  Hen.  V.  v.  2.  156:  "I  speak  to  thee  plain 
soldier;  "  K.John,  ii.  l,  462:  "He  speaks  plain  cannon  fire,"  etc. 
See  also  272  below. 

216.  Wherein  went  he?  How  was  he  dressed?  Cf.  0th.  ii.  I. 
151 :  "went  never  gay;  "  Lear,  ii.  4.  27 :  "to  go  warm,"  etc. 

217.  Makes.     Does.     See  on  i.  i.  28  above. 

218.  With.  Cf.  Rich.  II.  ii.  2.  2:  "parted  with  the  king,"  etc. 
Gr.  194.     We  have  "parted  from  "  in  iv.  3.  98  below. 

221.  Gargantud's  mouth.  Gargantua  was  the  giant  in  Rabelais 
who  swallowed  five  pilgrims  at  a  gulp.  Steevens  quotes  from  the 
Registers  of  the  Stationers'  Company  two  items,  showing  that  in 
1592  [April  6]  was  entered  "Gargantua  his  prophesie,"  and  in 
1594  [Dec.  4]  "A  booke  entituled,  the  historic  of  Gargantua  &c." 

223.  To  say  ay  and  no,  etc.  To  answer  your  questions  even 
briefly,  etc. 

226.   Looks  he  as  freshly.     See  on  i.  2.  153  and  ii.  6.  13  above. 

228.  Atomies.  Atoms,  motes.  Cf.  R.  and  J.  i.  4.  57  and 
2  Hen.  IV.  V.  4.  33.     Cf.  Milton,  //  Pens.  7 :  — 

"  As  thick  and  numberless 
As  the  gay  motes  that  people  the  sunbeams." 

Resolve  =  solve,  answer;   as  in  3  Hen.  VI.  iv.  i.  135,  etc. 

230.  Observance.  Observation,  attention.  Cf.  0th.  iii.  3.  151 : 
"  scattering  and  unsure  observance,"  etc. 


Scene  II]  Notes  215 

232.  foveas  tree.  Cf.  3  Hen.  VI.  v.  2.  14:  "Jove's  spreading 
tree."     The  oak  was  sacred  to  Jupiter. 

236.   Stretched  along.     See  on  ii.  i.  30  above. 

239.  The  ground.  The  background  of  the  picture,  as  Caldecott 
explains  it;   though  it  may  have  its  ordinary  meaning. 

240.  HoUa.     Used  in  checking  horses.     Cf.  V.  and  A.  284 :  — 

"  What  recketh  he  his  rider's  angry  stir, 
His  flattering  '  Holla,'  or  his  '  Stand,  I  say  ?  ' " 

241.  On  curvets,  cf.  V.  and  A.  279:  "rears  upright,  curvets,  and 
leaps."  The  noun  is  accented  on  the  last  syllable,  in  A.  W.  ii.  3. 
299:  "the  bound  and  high  curvet  Of  Mars's  fiery  steed."  i'V^r- 
wzV/^^  =  dressed,  equipped.  Cf.  epil.  9  below;  also  i  Hen.  IV. 
V.  3.  21 :  "furnish'd  like  the  king,"  etc. 

243.  Heart.  There  is  a  play  on  the  word;  as  in  T.  N.  iv.  i. 
63,/.  C.  iii.  I.  208,  V.  and  A.  502,  etc. 

244.  Burden.  According  to  Chappell,  the  burden  of  a  song 
was  "  the  base,  foot,  or  u^ider-song^''  which  was  sung  throughout, 
and  not  merely  at  the  end  of  the  verse."  The  Century  Diet,  gives 
"  the  bass  in  music  "  as  the  first  meaning  of  the  word. 

245.  Bringest  me  out.  Put  me  out;  as  in  248  below.  Cf. 
L.  L.  L.  v.  2.  171:   "that  brings  me  out." 

250.  By.  Aside.  So  "  walk  by "  =  step  aside,  in  0th.  v.  2. 
30;  "stand  by"  =  stand  aside,  stand  back,  in  Much  Ado,  iv.  i. 
24,  T.  of  S.  i.  2.  143,  etc. 

252.  Had  as  lief  have  been.  Cf.  Much  Ado,  ii.  3.  84,  and  see 
on  i.  I.  143  above.  Myself  alone  =  by  myself;  an  expression,  as 
we  are  told,  still  used  in  Scotland. 

253.  Fashion  sake.     See  on  133  above. 

255.  God  be  wi^  you.  "  God  buy  you  "  in  the  folio ;  as  in  iv.  i. 
29  and  V.  3.  40  below,  and  many  other  passages.  Our  good-bye  is 
from  the  same  phrase. 

260.  Moe.  More;  the  folio  reading  here,  as  in  forty  or  more 
other  passages,  though  we  find  "  more  "  in  258  just  above.     The 


21 6  Notes  [Act  III 

form  is  required  by  the  rhyme  in  7?.  of  L.  1479  and  Much  Ado,  ii. 
3.  72.  It  is  regularly  used  only  with  the  plural.  In  the  one  ap- 
parent exception  in  the  folio  (  Temp.  v.  i .  234 :  "  mo  diversitie  of 
sounds")  the  expression  is  virtually  a  plural. 

263.  Just.  Just  so;  as  in  M.  for  M.  iii.  i.  68,  Much  Ado,  ii. 
I.  29,  V.  I.  164,  Hen.  V.  iii.  7.  158,  etc. 

271.  Conned.  Learned  by  heart;  as  in  M.  N.  D.  i.  2.  102, 
Hen.  V.  iii.  6.  79,  etc.  Out  of  rings  alludes  to  the  "posies"  or 
mottoes  inscribed  on  rings.  Cf.  M.  of  V.  v.  i.  148,  151,  and 
Ham.  iii.  2.  162. 

272.  /  ansiver  you  right  painted  cloth.  For  the  construction, 
see  on  209  above.  Painted  cloth  alludes  to  the  tapestry  hangings 
for  rooms,  which  were  ornamented  with  figures  and  mottoes.  Cf. 
R.  of  L.  245,  Z.  L.  L.  V.  2.  579,  I  Hen.  IV.  iv.  2.  28,  and  T.  and 
C.  V.  10.  47.  Steevens  quotes  Randolph,  The  Muse^s  Looking- 
glass,  iii.  I  :  — 

"  Then  for  the  painting,  I  bethink  myself 
That  I  have  seen  in  Mother  Redcap's  hall, 
In  painted  cloth,  the  story  of  the  Prodigal." 

See  also  No  Whipping  nor  Tripping,  1 601 :  — 

"  Read  what  is  written  on  the  painted  cloth  : 
Do  no  man  wrong ;  be  good  unto  the  poor ; 
Beware  the  mouse,  the  maggot  and  the  moth, 
And  ever  have  an  eye  unto  the  door,"  etc. 

278.  No  breather.  Ci.  Sonn.  81.  12:  "all  the  breathers  of  this 
world;  "  and  A.  and  C.  iii.  3.  24  :  "a  body  rather  than  a  life,  A 
statue  than  a  breather." 

283.   By  my  troth.     See  on  i.  2.  88  above. 

301.    Sighing  every  m.inute,  etc.     Cf.  Rich.  II.  v.  5.  50-58. 

306.    Who.     For  whom,  as  often.     See  on  i.  2.  17  above. 

312.   A  se'mtight.     A  week.     Cf  y^r/«z^,^/ =  fourteen  nights. 

314.    Year.     Cf.  Sonn,  ii.  8:    "threescore  year;"    Temp.  i.   2. 


Scene  II]  Notes  217 

53:  "Twelve  year  since,  Miranda,  twelve  year  since,"  etc.     Simi- 
larly we  ^nd pound,  shilling,  mile,  etc.,  in  the  plural. 

333.  Fringe.  Fairholt,  in  his  Costumes,  gives  representations 
of  petticoat  fringes  from  portraits  of  the  Elizabethan  age. 

334.  Native.  Cf.  Haju.  i.  4.  14  and  iv.  7.  180.  S.  has  native 
as  a  noun  (=  source)  only  in  Cor.  iii.  I.  129  :  "the  native  of  our 
so  frank  donation  ;  "  where  some  critics  would  read  "  motive." 

335.  Cony.  Rabbit.  Cf.  V.  and  A.  687  and  Cor.  iv.  5.  226. 
^e«(37^(/  =  littered,  born;  still  used  of  hares  and  rabbits  in  some 
provincial  dialects.  Furness  says  it  is  in  common  use  in  this 
country,  as  applied  to  rabbits. 

338.  Purchase.  Get,  gain.  Cf.  il/.  ^/"  F".  ii.  9. 43 :  "purchased by 
the  merit  of  the  wearer;  "  Rich.  II.  i.  3.  282  :  "I  sent  thee  forth 
to  purchase  honour,"  etc.  Removed  z=  retired.  Cf.  W.  T.  v.  2. 
116:  "that  removed  house;  "  M.  for  M.  i.  3.  8  :  "the  life  re- 
moved," etc.  See  also  Milton,  //  Petis.  78 :  "  Some  still  removed 
place." 

339.  Of.     By.     Cf.  i.  I.  no,  163,  etc. 

340.  Religious  uncle.  That  is,  a  monk  or  hermit.  Cf.  v.  4. 
160,  181  below.  So  in  Rich.  II.  w.  i.  23,  "religious  house  "  = 
convent. 

341.  Courtship.  Court  life;  with  a  play  on  the  other  sense. 
Cf.  R.  and  J.  iii.  3.  34.     For  inland,  see  on  ii.  7.  96  above. 

345.    Taxed.     Charged.     See  on  i.  2.  85  above. 

358.  Fancy-monger.  Love-monger.  See  on  fantasy,  ii.  4.  31 
above. 

360.  Quotidian.  A  fever  with  daily  paroxysms.  Cf.  Lyly's 
Euphues :  "  if  euer  she  haue  ben  taken  with  the  feuer  of  fancie, 
she  will  help  his  ague,  who  by  a  quotidian  fit  is  conuerted  into 
phrensie."  See  also  Hen.  V.  ii.  i.  124:  "He  is  so  shaked  of  a 
burning  quotidian  tertian,  that  it  is  most  lamentable  to  behold." 

363.  There  is  none.  The  singular  verb  is  often  thus  used  before 
a  plural  subject. 

365.    Cage  of  rushes.     That  is,  weak  bondage. 


21 8  Notes  [Act  III 

367.   A  blue  eye.     That  is,  with  blue  circles  about  it.     Cf.  R.  of 

Z.  1587:  — 

"  And  round  about  her  tear-distained  eye, 

Blue  circles  stream'd,  like  rainbows  in  the  sky." 

So  in  "  blue-eyed  hag,"  in  Te77ip.  i.  2.  270.  Unquestionable 
=  disinclined  to  question  or  conversation.  Cf.  questionable  in 
Ham.  i.  4.  43.  For  question  =  talk,  conversation,  see  iii.  4.  35  and 
V.  4.  161  below. 

371.  Simply.  Indeed,  absolutely.  Cf.  M.  N.  D.  iv.  2.  9:  "he 
hath  simply  the  best  wit  of  any  handicraft  man  in  Athens;  "  Hen. 

V.  iii.  7.  105:  "He  is  simply  the  most  active  gentleman  of 
France,"  etc.  Having  =  property,  possession.  Cf.  M.  W.  iii.  2. 
73:  "the  gentleman  is  of  no  having;"  Cymb.  i.  2.  19:  "he 
added  to  your  having,"  etc. 

372.  Ungartered.     Cf.  T.  G.  of  V.  ii.  i.  79  and  Ham.  ii.  i.  80. 

373.  Bonnet  =h2i\.;  as  elsewhere  in  S.  Cf.  V.  and  A.  339:  "his 
bonnet  "  (called  "  his  hat  "  in  351  just  below),  etc.  On  the  whole 
passage,  cf.  Heywood's  Fair  Maid  of  the  Exchange  :  — 

"  No  by  my  troth,  if  every  tale  of  love, 
Or  love  it  selfe,  or  foole-bewitching  beauty, 
Make  me  crosse-arme  my  selfe ;  study  ay-mees ; 
Defie  my  hat-band ;  tread  beneath  my  feet 
Shoo-strings  and  garters ;  practise  in  my  glasse 
Distressed  lookes,  and  dry  my  liver  up 
With  sighes  enough  to  win  an  argosie." 

376.  Point-device.  Affectedly  nice.  Cf.  L.  L.  L.  w.  i.  21  and 
T.  N,  ii.  5.  176. 

384.  In  good  sooth.  In  very  truth.  Cf.  M.  of  V.'i.  i.  i  =  "In 
sooth,"  etc. 

388.    He.     See  on  10  above. 

394.  A  dark  house,  etc.  The  usual  treatment  of  lunatics  until 
a  very  recent  date.  Dr.  Brown,  a  high  medical  authority  of  a 
hundred  years  ago,  seriously  maintained  that  "  the  patient  ought 
to  be  struck  with  fear  and  terror,  and  driven  in  his  state  of  insanity 


Scene  III]  Notes  219 

to  despair;  as  a  remedy  against  over-muscular  excitement  the 
labour  of  draught  cattle  should  be  imposed  on  him;  the  diet  should 
be  the  poorest  possible,  and  his  drink  only  water."     Cf.  T.  N.  iii. 

4.  148,  V.  I.  350,  C.  of  E.  iv.  4.  97,  etc. 

403.  Moonish.  Changeable,  variable;  used  by  S.  only  here. 
Cf.  R.  and  J.  ii.  2.  109  fol. 

410.  Drave,     Cf.  T.  and  C.  iii.  3.  190,  R.  and  J.  i.  i.  127,  etc. 

5.  also  uses  drove  for  the  past  tense  (^M.  JV.  v.  5.  131,  etc.),  and 
driven  and  droven  {A.  and  C.  iv.  7.  5)  for  the  participle. 

411.  Living,  Real,  as  opposed  to  wa^.  Cf.  6>//^.  iii.  3.  409 :  "a 
living  reason." 

413.  Merely.  Absolutely.  Cf.  Temp.  i.  i.  59:  "we  are  merely 
cheated  of  our  lives,"  etc. 

414.  Liver.  Considered  the  seat  of  love.  Cf.  Temp.  iv.  i.  56, 
Much  Ado,  iv.  i .  233,  etc.  See  also  liver-vein  in  L.  L.  L.  iv.  3.  74. 
The  simile,  as  Steevens  remarks,  is  in  keeping  with  Rosalind's 
assumed  character  of  a  shepherd. 

Scene  III.  —  i.  Audrey.  A  contraction  of  Etheldreda.  The 
word  tawdry  is  a  corruption  of  Saint  Audrey. 

3.  Feature.  Shape,  personal  appearance  (Schmidt).  Cf.  Sonn. 
113.  12,  Temp.  iii.  I.  52,  etc.  Some  take  it  to  be  =  "facture"  (or 
making  in  the  early  English  sense  of  composition,  verses),  as  Mr. 
W.  Wilkins  explains  it ;  but  this  is  doubtful.  Audrey  somehow  mis- 
understands the  word,  and  this  involves  a  joke,  but  what  the  joke 
can  be  seems  past  finding  out.  Furness,  after  devoting  almost  three 
pages  of  fine  print  to  it,  gives  it  up  as  inexplicable. 

7.  Goats.  There  is  a  play  on  this  word  and  Goths,  which  seems 
to  have  had  the  same  pronunciation.  So,  as  Grant  White  has 
shown,  with  fjioth  and  mote,  nothing  and  noting,  etc.  Caldecott 
remarks  that  in  our  early  printing  Goths  and  Gothic  were  spelled 
Gates  and  Gotiishe.  He  quotes  Thomas,  Llist.  of  Ltalye,  1561  : 
"against  the  gotes  "  (that  is,  Goths).  Capricious  is  apparently 
used  here  on  account  of  its  derivation  (Latin  caper,  goat) . 


220  Notes  [Act  III 

lo.  Ill-inhabited.  Ill-housed.  For  the  allusion  to  the  story  of 
Philemon  and  Baucis,  of.  Much  Ado,  ii.  i.  99. 

15.  ^  great  reckoning,  etc.  A  large  bill  for  a  small  company  or 
a  mean  entertainment. 

21.  May  be  said,  M.  Mason  wished  to  read  "it  may  be  said;  " 
but  it  is  more  likely  a  "  confusion  of  construction  "  for  "  may  be  said 
to  be  feigned." 

26.   Honest.    Chaste  ;  as  in  i.  2.  38.    Cf.  dishonest  in  v.  3.  4  below. 

29.  Hard-favoured.  Ill-favoured  (cf.  i.  2.  39  above),  ugly.  Cf. 
V.  and  A.  133  :  "Were  I  hard-favour'd,  foul,  or  wrinkled-old;  " 
Hen.  V.  iii.  1.8:  "  Disguise  fair  nature  with  hard-favour'd  age,"  etc, 

32.   Material.     "Full  of  matter"  (ii.  I.  68),  sensible. 

36.  Foul.  Plain,  ugly;  as  in  the  passage  from  V.  and  A.  just 
quoted,  and  in  iii.  5.  62  below. 

49.    Stagger.    Waver,  hesitate;   as  in  M.  W.  iii.  3.  12,  etc. 

51.  What  though?  What  of  it  ?  Cf.  M.  W.\.  i.  286,  Hen.  V. 
ii.  I.  9,  etc. 

52.  Necessary.     Unavoidable;   asiny.  C.  ii.  2.  36,  etc. 

57.  Rascal.  A  lean  or  worthless  deer.  Puttenham,  in  his  £7z^/z^>^ 
Poesie,  says  :  "  raskall  is  properly  the  hunter's  terme  given  to  young 
deere,  leane  and  out  of  season."  For  a  play  on  the  word,  see  Cor. 
i.  II.  63,  2  He7i.  IV.  ii.  4.  45,  v.  4.  34,  etc. 

58.  More  worthier.     See  on  iii.  2.  59  above. 
61.   By  how  much,  etc.     See  on  v.  2.  44  below. 

63.    Sir.     "The  style  of  a  priest,  answering  to  dominus.''^ 

68.    On  gift  of  any  man.      The  idea  seems  to  be  that  what  is 

given  away  is  not  worth  having. 

75.    God  Held  you.      God  yield  you,  reward  you.     Cf.  v.  4.  54 

below.     The  full  form  ("  the  gods  yield  you  for  't ! ")  occurs  in 

A.  and  C.  iv.  2.  33. 

79.  Bow.  English  editors  explain  ox-bow  as  a  provincialism,  but 
it  is  in  common  use  in  New  England. 

80.  Falcon.  The  female  bird,  the  male  bird  being  called  tercel 
or  tassel  (cf.  T.  and  C.  iii.  2.  56  and  R.  and  J.  ii.  2.  160).     Falcon 


Scene  IV]  Notes  221 

is  masculine  in  J?,  of  L.  506,  but  this  is  because  it  is  applied  meta- 
phorically to  Tarquin.  On  the  bells,  cf.  R.of  L.^w  and  3  Hen.  VI. 
i.  I.  47. 

90.  But  I  were  better.  That  it  were  not  better  for  me.  Cf. 
2  Hen.  IV.  i.  2.  245,  T.  N.  i.  2.  27,  etc.  The  construction  was 
originally  impersonal  (=  to  me  it  were  better),  like  if  I  please,  etc. 
See  on  i.  i.  90  above. 

98.    O  sweet  Oliver.     A  quotation  from  a  ballad  of  the  time. 

102.  Wind.  Steevens  notes  that  wmi3'=wend  in  Ccesar  and 
Pompey,  1607:  "  Winde  we  then,  Anthony,  with  this  royal  queen," 
etc. 

106.  Flout.  Mock,  jeer;  as  in  i.  2.  45  above,  etc.  For  calling, 
see  on  i.  2.  234  above. 

Scene  IV.  —  9.  Than  Judas'' s.  It  was  a  current  opinion  that 
Judas  had  red  hair  and  beard,  and  he  was  commonly  so  represented 
in  the  paintings  and  tapestries  of  the  time.  Cf.  Marston,  Insatiate 
Countess,  161 3:  "I  ever  thought  by  his  red  beard  he  would  prove 
a  Judas;"  Middleton,  Chaste  Maid  in  Cheapside,  1620 :  "Sure 
that  was  Judas  with  the  red  beard,"  etc. 

12.  Yotir  chestnut.  A  common  colloquial  use  oi  your.  Cf.  v. 
4.  61  below;  also  M.  N.  D.  i.  2.  95,  iii.  i.  t,Z^  iv.  i.  36,  etc. 

15.  Holy  bread.     Sacramental  bread. 

16.  Cast.  Cast  off,  discarded.  Cf.  Hen.  V.  iv.  i.  23:  "casted 
slough;"  Hen.  VIII.  i.  3.  48:  "your  colt's  tooth  is  not  cast  yet," 
etc.  For  the  allusion  to  Diana,  cf.  Much  Ado,  iv.  i.  58,  T.  of  A. 
iv.  3.  387,  Cor.  V.  3.  65,  etc. 

17.  Winter'' s  sisterhood.  That  is,  "an  unfruitful  sisterhood." 
Cf.  M.  N.  D.  i.  I.  72:  — 

"  To  live  a  barren  sister  all  your  life, 
Chanting  faint  hymns  to  the  cold  fruitless  moon." 

23.  Pick-purse.  Pickpocket;  as  in  M.  W.\.  i.  163,  Z.  Z.  Z,  iv, 
3.  208,  etc. 


222  Notes  [Act  III 

24.  Verity.  Faith,  honesty;  as  in  Macb.  iv.  3.  92:  "justice, 
verity,  temperance." 

25.  A  covered  goblet.  More  hollow  because  the  cover  is  on  only 
when  the  cup  is  empty. 

31.  The  word  of  a  tapster.  Who  would  cheat  in  his  reckoning. 
Cf.  L.  L.  L.  i.  2.  42:  "I  am  ill  at  reckoning;  it  fitteth  the  spirit 
of  a  tapster;  "   T.  and  C.  i.  2.  123:  "a  tapster's  arithmetic,"  etc. 

35.  Question.  Talk,  conversation.  Cf.  v.  4.  161  below;  also 
IV.  T.   iv.  2.  55,  etc.     See  on  iii.  2.  368  above. 

37.  What.  For  what,  why.  Cf.  _/.  C.  ii.  i.  123:  "What  need 
we  any  spur,"  etc. 

39.   A  brave  man  !     A  fine  fellow  !     Cf.  for  the  irony  Temp.  iii. 

2.  12:  "He  were  a  brave  monster  indeed,"  etc.     See  on  bravery^ 
ii.  7.  80  above. 

41.  Traverse.  Crosswise;  that  is,  clumsily.  It  was  thought  dis- 
graceful to  break  a  lance  across  the  body  of  an  adversary,  and  not 
by  a  direct  thrust.  Cf.  Much  Ado,  v.  1 .  1 39 :  "  give  him  another 
staff ;   this  last  was  broke  cross." 

42.  Lover  is  feminine,  as  in  T.  G.  of  V.  i.  i.  116,  Cymb.  v.  5.  172, 
etc.  In  A  Lover'' s  Complaint  the  lover  is  a  woman.  Puisny  = 
puny  (which  is  the  same  word),  inferior. 

43.  A  noble  goose.     The  adjective  is  obviously  ironical. 

47.  Of  love.     That  is,  of  the  want  of  it  (Schmidt).     See  on  ii. 

3.  12  above,  and  cf.  iii.  2.  30. 

48.  Who.     See  on  iii.  2.  306. 

51.  Pageant.  Cf.  M.  N.  D.  iii.  2.  114:  "Shall  we  their  fond 
pageant  see  ?  "  In  S.  the  word  always  means  a  theatrical  perform- 
ance, literal  or  figurative. 

52.  Pale  complexioti.  Perhaps  alluding  to  the  popular  belief 
that  the  heart  lost  a  drop  of  blood  with  every  sigh.  Cf.  M.  N.  D. 
iii.  2.  96 :  — 

"  All  fancy-sick  she  is,  and  pale  of  cheer, 
With  sighs  of  love  that  costs  the  fresh  blood  dear,"  etc. 


Scene  V]  Notes  223 

Scene  V.  —  5.  Falls.  For  the  transitive  use  cf.  Temp.  ii.  i.  296, 
V.  I.  64,/.  C.  iv.  2.  26,  etc. 

6.  But  first  begs.     Without  first  begging.     See  on  iii.  2.  47  above. 

7.  Z)zV^  and  lives.  Lives  and  dies,  gets  his  whole  livelihood. 
Mr.  Arrowsmith  (^Notes  and  Queries,  ist  series,  vii.  542)  compares 
Romaunt  of  the  Rose,  5790 :  — 

"  With  sorrow  they  both  die  and  live 
That  unto  richesse  her  hertes  geve ;  " 

and  Barclay,  Ship  of  Fooles,  1570:  — 

"  He  is  a  foole,  and  so  shall  he  dye  and  line, 
That  thinketh  him  wise,  and  yet  can  he  nothing." 

11.  Sure.     Surely.     Cf.  Tefnp.  i.  2.  388,  ii.  i.  315,  etc. 

12.  FraiVst.  This  contraction  of  superlatives  is  common  in  S. 
Cf.  "civil'st"  (2  Hen.  VI.  iv.  7.  66),  -'kind'st"  (^Macb.  ii.  i.  24), 
"stern'st"  (/</.  ii.  2.  4),  "  secret 'st"  (^Id.  iii.  4.  126),  etc. 

23.  Cicatrice.  Mark,  impression.  Capable  is  apparently  =  sen- 
sible. Cf.  Greene,  Orpharion,  1599:  "conducted  into  the  great 
hall  of  the  gods.  Mercury  sprinkled  me  with  water,  and  made  me 
capable  of  their  divine  presence."  See  also  Ham.  iv.  7.  179,  where 
"  incapable  of  her  own  distress  "  =  insensible,  etc.  For  iynpressure, 
cf.  T.  N.  ii.  5.  103 :  "  Soft !  and  the  impressure  her  Lucrece,  with 
which  she  uses  to  seal;  "  and  7'.  and  C.  iv.  5.  131 :  "my  sword 
had  not  impressure  made." 

24.  Some  moment.  Cf.  R.  and J.y.  3.  257:  "some  minute  ere 
the  time,"  etc.  We  can  even  now  say  "  some  half  an  hour  "  (Z.  L.  L. 
V.  2.  90),  "some  month  or  two"  (J\I.  of  V.  iii.  2.  9),  etc.  It  is 
doubtful,  indeed,  whether  there  is  any  Shakespearian  use  of  the 
word  which  might  not  be  allowed  now. 

26.   Nor  .  .  .  no.     Cf.  i.  2.  18  above, 

29.   Fancy.     Love.     See  on  iii.  2.  358  above. 

36.  And  all  at  once.     "  All  in  a  breath  "  (Steevens). 

37.  No  beauty.     It  would  seem  to  be  clear  enough  from  the  con- 


224  Notes  [Act  III 

text  that  Rosalind  is  bantering  Phebe,  but  the  negative  has  troubled 
some  of  the  editors.  Cf.  66  below :  "  He  's  fallen  in  love  vv'ith  your 
foulness;  "  that  is,  your  lack  of  beauty.  Cf.  foul  in  iii.  3.  36  and 
in  62  below. 

39.  Dark.  In  the  dark,  Cf.  A.  W.  iv.  i.  104:  "I'll  keep  him 
dark,"  etc.  The  passage  means,  "without  exciting  any  particular 
desire  for  light  to  see  it  by  "  (Moberly). 

43.  Sale-work.  "  Ready-made,"  as  we  say,  in  distinction  from 
"custom  work"  or  that  done  to  order.  Odh  my  little  life  is  a 
petty  oath.  Cf.  Much  Ado,  iv.  2.  72  :  "  God  's  my  life  !  "  See  also 
"Od's  my  will!"  in  iv.  3.  17  below;  "Od's  me!"  in  M.  W.\. 
4.  64,  etc. 

47.  Bugle.  Black  like  "  bugles,"  as  beads  of  black  glass  are  still 
called. 

48.  Enta77ie.  Tame,  subdue;  used  by  S.  only  here.  For  tame  = 
subdue,  see  Much  Ado,  v.  i.  210,  T.  of  S.  ii.  i.  278,  iv.  i.  213,  iv.  2. 
53,  58,  etc. 

50.  Foggy  south.  For  the  south  wind  as  bringing  fog  and  rain, 
cf.  R.  and  J.  i.  4.  103,  2  Hen.  IV.  ii.  4.  392,  Cor.  ii.  3.  32,  Cymb. 
ii.  3.  136,  iv.  2.  349,  etc. 

51.  Properer.  Handsomer.  See  on  i.  2.  121,  and  cf.  55  and 
114  below. 

53.  Makes.  The  relative  sometimes  takes  a  singular  verb,  though 
the  antecedent  is  plural;  but  here  we  may  regard  the  preceding 
idea  ("the  fact  that  there  are  such  fools  as  you")  as  the  subject. 

59.  Friendly.  As  a  friend.  For  the  adv^erbial  use,  cf.  T.  of  S. 
i.  I.  141,  iv.  2.  107,  Cor.  iv.  6.  9,  A.  and  C  ii.  6.  47,  etc. 

60.  You  are  not,  etc.  We  might  use  this  expression,  but  not 
"This  sky  is  not  to  walk  in"  (y.  C.  i.  3.  39),  "He  is  not  for  your 
lordship's  respect"  (^A.  W.  iii.  6.  109),  etc. 

61.  Cry  the  man  mercy.  That  is,  beg  his  pardon.  Cf.  M.  IV. 
iii.  5.  27,  Af.  N.  D.  iii.  i.  182,  etc. 

62.  Foul  is  most  foul,  etc.  "  There  is  no  ugliness  like  that  which 
goes  with  scoffing."     See  on  iii.  3.  36  above. 


Scene  V]  Notes  225 

66.  He^s  fallen  in  love,  etc.  If  the  text  is  right,  the  first  clause 
must  be  addressed  to  Phebe,  and  what  follows  to  Silvius. 

68.  Saiice.  Cf.  our  vulgarism  of  "sassing"  a  person.  From 
meaning  to  give  zest  or  piquancy  to  language,  the  word  came  to 
be  used  ironically  in  the  sense  of  making  it  hot  and  sharp;  or,  in 
other  words,  from  meaning  to  spice  it  came  to  mean  to  pepper,  Cf. 
M.  W.  iv.  3.  1 1 :   "I  '11  sauce  them." 

73.   If  you  will  know,  etc.     Probably  addressed  to  Silvius. 

76.  Look  on  him  better.  Think  better  of  him,  regard  him  more 
favourably. 

78.  Abus'd.  Deceived.  Cf.  Aluch  Ado,  v.  2.  100 :  "  Hero  hath 
been  falsely  accused,  the  prince  and  Claudio  mightily  abused,"  etc. 

80.  Dead  shepherd,  etc.  See  introduction,  p.  10  above.  Mar- 
lowe was  killed  in  a  quarrel  in  1593.  For  saw,  cf.  ii.  7.  156  above. 
Of  might  ■=  forcibly  true. 

%%.  Extermin'd.  Used  by  S.  only  here.  Its  equivalent,  exter- 
ininate,  he  does  not  use  at  all. 

89.  Thou  hast  my  love,  etc.  Possibly  there  is  an  allusion  to  the 
Scriptural  injunction,  "thou  shalt  love  thy  neighbour  as  thyself." 

93.  Sitice  that.     See  on  i.  3.  48  above. 

94.  Irksome.     See  on  ii.  i.  22  above. 

99.  Grace.  Either  favour,  regard  (as  in  Much  Ado,  ii.  3.  31, 
Z.  L.  L.  ii.  I.  60,  etc.),  or  fortune,  happiness  (as  in  M.  for  M.  i.  4. 
69,  M.  N.  D.  ii.  2.  89,  etc.). 

102.   Loose.     Let  fall.     Cf.  Ruth,  ii.  16. 

104.   Ereivhile.     See  on  ii.  4.  89  above. 

106.  Bounds.     See  on  ii.  4.  %Tj  above. 

107.  Carlot.  Peasant;  from  ca7'l  (see  Cymb.  v.  2.  4),  which 
has  the  same  meaning. 

109.  Peevish.  Silly,  as  often;  though  here  it  may  have  the  more 
familiar  sense. 

112.   It  is.     See  on  i.  i,  139  above. 

120.   Lusty.      Lively,  fresh.     Cf.  Sonn.  5.  7,  Temp.  ii.  i.  52,  etc, 

122.    Constant.     Uniform;    as  opposed  to  the  mingled  damask, 

AS   YOU   LIKE   IT — 1 5 


2  26  Notes  [Act  IV 

or  red  and  white.  Cf.  Sonn.  130.  5:  "roses  damask'd,  red  and 
white." 

124.  In  parcels.  Piecemeal.  Cf,  "by  parcels"  in  0th.  i.  3.  154. 
Would  have  gone  nea?-  to  fall  =  would  have  come  near  falling.  Cf. 
Temp.  ii.  2.  78,  Much  Ado,  iv.  2.  24,  etc. 

128.  What  had  he  to  do,  etc.  What  right  had  he,  etc.  Cf.  M.  W. 
iii.  3.  164 :  "  What  have  you  to  do  (what  is  it  to  you)  whither  they 
bear  it?"  The  phrase  is  used  absolutely  in  T.  of  S.  i.  2.  226  and 
iii.  2.  218. 

130.  /  am  reme77iber^ d.  I  recollect.  Cf.  M.  for  M.  ii.  i.  no, 
114,  T.  of  S.  iv.  3.  96,  Rich.  III.  ii.  4.  23,  etc. 

132.  Omittance  is  no  qttittance.  Doubtless  a  proverbial  ex- 
pression. 

135.  Straight.  Straightway,  immediately.  Cf.  lear,  i.  3.  25 : 
"  I  '11  write  straight  to  my  sister,"  etc.     See  also  ii.  I.  69  above. 

137.  Passing.  Exceedingly;  as  often.  Cf.  M.  N.  D.  ii.  i.  20, 
Hen.  V.  iv.  2.  42,  etc.  It  is  occasionally  an  adjective;  as  in  T.  G. 
of  V.  i.  2.  17:  "a  passing  shame;"  3  Hen.  VI.  v.  i.  106:  "O 
passing  traitor  ! "  etc. 


ACT  IV 


Scene  I.  —  4.  I  do  love  it,  etc.  Cf.  what  Johnson  says  to  Bos- 
well  :  "  You  are  always  complaining  of  melancholy,  and  I  conclude 
from  those  complaints  that  you  are  fond  of  it.  Do  not  pretend  to 
deny  it :  manifestiim  habemtts  furem.  Make  it  an  invariable  and 
obligatory  law  on  yourself  never  to  mention  your  own  mental 
diseases.  If  you  are  never  to  speak  of  them,  you  will  think  of  them 
but  little;  and  if  you  think  little  of  them,  they  will  molest  you 
rarely." 

5.  In  extremity  of  either.  Extremely  given  to  either.  Cf.  iv. 
3.  23  below. 


Scene  I]  Notes  227 

7.  Modern  censure.  Ordinary  judgment.  See  on  ii.  7.  156 
above.  For  censure,  cf.  W.  T.  ii.  i.  37:  "In  my  just  censure,  in 
my  true  opinion;"  Rich.  III.  ii.  2.  144:  "To  give  your  censures  in 
this  weighty  business,"  etc.  So  the  verb  =  judge  iny.  C.  iii.  2.  16, 
Cor.  ii.  I.  25,  etc. 

Worse  than  drunkards.  "  For  both  alike  are  as  incapable  of 
action  as  drunkards,  and  their  state  is  more  permanent  "  (Moberly). 

9.  Good  to  be  a  post.  "  I  remember  that  I  was  once  at  the  house 
of  a  lady  for  whom  I  have  a  high  respect.  When  the  company 
were  gone  I  said  to  her,  '  What  foolish  talking  have  we  had ! ' 
'Yes,'  said  she,  'but  while  they  talked  you  said  nothing.'  I  was 
struck  with  the  reproof.  How  much  better  is  the  man  who  does 
anything  that  is  innocent  than  he  who  does  nothing !  "   (Johnson). 

14.  Politic.  That  is,  arising  from  "  professionally  assumed  or 
half  real  sympathy  with  his  client."  tVzV^  =  affected,  squeamish. 
Cf.  Heywood,  Proverbes  :  "  As  nice  as  a  nunnes  hen." 

16.  Simples.  The  ingredients  of  a  compound,  especially  of 
herbs  and  medicines.  Cf.  R.  of  L.  530,  R.  and  J.  v.  i.  40,  Ham. 
iv.  7.  145,  etc. 

18.  My  often  rumination.  The  only  instance  of  the  adjective 
in  S.;  but  oft  is  similarly  used  in  Sonn.  14.  8 :  "By  oft  predict  that 
I  in  heaven  find." 

19.  Humorous.     Fanciful.     Cf.  its  use  in  i.  2.  267  and  ii.  3.  8. 

20.  A  traveller !  S.  elsewhere  ridicules  the  affectations  of 
travellers;    as  in  K.  John  i.  i.  189  fol.,  M.  of  V.  i.  2.  79  foL,  Hen. 

VIH.  i.  3.  30,  etc. 

29.    God  be  wV  you.     See  on  iii.  2.  255  above. 

32.  Disable  =  disparage;  as  in  v.  4.  76  below.  Cf.  M.  of  V.  ii. 
7.  30  and  I  Hen.  VI.  v.  3.  67. 

34.  That  countenance.  Of  that  countenance,  or  national  physiog- 
nomy. 

35.  Swam.  The  folio  has  "  swom  "  for  the  participle  in  Temp. 
ii.  2.  133,  and  for  the  past  tense  in  T.  G.  of  V.'\.  I.  26. 

36.  Gondola  is  spelt  "  Gundello  "  in  the  folio,  and  the  word  is 


228  Notes  [Act  IV 

still  pronounced  "  gundalow  "  in  New  England  seaports.  Johnson 
explains  the  passage,  "That  is,  been  at  Venice,  the  seat  at  that 
time  of  all  licentiousness,  where  the  young  English  gentlemen 
wasted  their  fortunes,  debased  their  morals,  and  sometimes  lost 
their  religion." 

45.  Clapfd  him  d'  the  shoulder.  Arrested  him  (cf.  Cymb.  v.  3. 
78) ;  or,  perhaps,  in  a  friendly  or  approving  way.  Cf.  Much  Ado, 
i.  I.  261,  L.  L.  L.  V.  2.  107,  etc. 

49.    Of.     By.     Cf.  iii.  2.  339  above. 

57.   Beholding.     Beholden.     Cf.  y.  C.  iii.  2.  70,  etc. 

63.  Leer.  Look.  There  seems  to  be  a  touch  of  sarcasm  in  the 
word,  though  in  early  English  it  meant  simply  face,  aspect. 

69.  You  were  better.     See  on  iii.  3.  90  above. 

70.  Gravelled.  Stuck  in  the  sand,  brought  to  a  standstill.  Cot- 
grave  (^Fr.  Diet.)  defines  assable  as  "gravelled;  filled  with  sand; 
also,  stucke  in,  or  run  on,  the  sand  "  (the  rtm  on  evidently  referring 
to  a  ship  that  has  run  aground) . 

72.  Out.  At  a  loss  for  words.  Cf.  L.  L.  L.  v.  2.  152,  165;  Cor. 
v.  3.  41,  etc.     See  also  iii.  2.  248  above. 

God  warn  us  !  God  forbid  !  Some  have  thought  it  a  corruption 
of  "  God  ward  (that  is,  guard)  us !  "     Cf.  Rich.  III.  v.  3.  254. 

80.   Ranker.     Greater.     For  the  figure,  cf.  ii.  7.  46  above. 

82.    Suit.     For  the  quibble,  cf.  ii.  7.  44  above. 

92.  Was  not.  Has  not  been.  Cf.  Hen.  V.  iv.  7.  58 :  "I  was 
not  angry  since  I  came  to  France,"  etc. 

93.  Troilus,  etc.  Rosalind  is  inclined  to  burlesque  the  story  of 
his  death;   as  in  the  reference  to  Leander's  "  cramp." 

100.  Chroniclers.  Rosalind  sportively  compares  the  chroniclers 
to  a  coroner's  jury. 

125.  Go  to.  Come;  a  common  phrase  of  exhortation  or  reproof. 
Cf.  Temp.v.  i.  297,  etc.     See  also  Genesis,  xi.  4. 

133.    Commission.     Warrant,  authority  to  perform  the  rite. 

135.  Goes  before  the  priest.  That  is,  does  not  wait  for  him  to 
dictate  the  words. 


Scene  I]  Notes  229 

142.  April.     Cf.  M.  of  V.  ii.  9.  93 :  — 

"A  day  in  April  never  came  so  sweet, 
To  show  how  costly  summer  was  at  hand,"  etc. 

Elsewhere  the  metaphor  is  drawn  from  the  rainy  April;   as  in  A. 
and  C.  iii.  2.  43  :  "The  April 's  in  her  eyes,"  etc. 

143.  May.  Cf.  L.  L.  L.  iv.  3.  102 :  "  Love,  whose  month  is 
ever  May,"  etc. 

145.  A  Barbary  cock-pigeon.  Cf.  2  Hen.  IV.  ii.  4.  108:  "a 
Barbary  hen." 

146.  Against.  Before,  in  expectation  of;  as  in  Rich.  II.  iii.  4. 
28,  etc. 

147.  For  new-fangled,  cf.  Sonn.  91.  3  and  Z.  Z.  Z.  i.  i.  106. 
Fangled  =  given  to  finery,  occurs  in  Cymb.  v.  4.  1 34.  Nares  gives 
examples  oi  fangle  =  trifle  or  toy,  from  Gayton,  Fest.  Notes  ("  What 
fangle  now  thy  thronged  guests  to  winne?")  and  Wood,  Athena. 
("  a  hatred  to  fangles  and  the  French  fooleries  of  his  time  ") ;  and 
Todd  (Johnson's  Dict.^  adds  from  Greene,  Mamillia :  "There 
was  no  feather,  no  fangle,  jem,  nor  jewel." 

149.  Diana  in  the  fountain.  Malone  thought  this  an  allusion 
to  the  cross  in  Cheapside,  the  religious  images  of  which  were 
defaced  in  1596.  According  to  Stow  (^Survey  of  London,  1603), 
there  was  then  "set  up  on  the  east  side  of  the  cross  „  .  .  a  curi- 
ously wrought  tabernacle  of  grey  marble,  and  in  the  same  an 
alabaster  image  of  Diana,  and  water  conveyed  from  the  Thames 
prilling  from  her  naked  breast,  but  now  decayed."  It  is  doubtful, 
however,  whether  S.  had  this  Diana  in  mind.  Statues  of  the  god- 
dess were  a  frequent  ornament  of  fountains,  as  we  learn  from 
writers  of  the  time. 

150.  A  hyen.  That  is,  a  hyena.  S.  mentions  the  animal  only  here. 
Its  bark  was  supposed  to  resemble  a  loud  laugh.  Steevens  quotes 
The  Cobler's  Prophecy,  1594:  "You  laugh  hyena-like,  weep  like  a 
crocodile." 

156.    Make  the  doors.     Shut  the  doors.     Cf.  C.  of  E.  iii.  i.  93: 


230  Notes  [Act  IV 

"The  doors  are  made  against  you."  It  is  said  that  the  expression 
is  still  used  in  Yorkshire  and  Leicestershire. 
158.  ''  T  will  out.  For  the  ellipsis,  cf.  i.  2.  215. 
161.  Wit,  whither  wilt?  A  proverbial  expression,  of  which 
Steevens  and  others  quote  many  examples.  It  seems  to  mean 
"  What  will  your  wit  lead  you  to?  "  and  was  used  to  check  one  who 
was  talking  nonsense  or  talking  too  much.     Cf.  i.  2.  54  above. 

168.  Without  her  anszuer.  Tyrwhitt  quotes  Chaucer,  C,  T. 
IOI41 : — 

"  Now  by  my  modre  Ceres  soule  I  swere, 

That  I  shall  yeve  hire  suflfisant  answere, 

And  alle  women  after  for  hire  sake ; 

That  though  they  ben  in  any  gilt  ytake, 

With  face  bold  they  shul  hemselve  excuse, 

And  bere  hem  doun  that  wolden  hem  accuse. 

For  lacke  of  answere,  non  of  us  shall  dien. 

Al  had  ye  seen  a  thing  with  bothe  youre  eyen, 

Yet  shul  we  so  visage  it  hardely, 

And  wepe  and  swere,  and  chiden  subtilly, 

That  ye  shul  ben  as  lewed  as  ben  gees." 

170.  Her  husbamPs  occasion.  That  is,  "caused  by  him;  "  or 
possibly  "  an  occasion  against  him,  or  for  taking  advantage  of  him." 

175.  Lack.  Be  without,  do  without.  Cf.  TJ/a^ri^.  iii.  4.  84 :  "Your 
noble  friends  do  lack  you,"  etc. 

189.  Pathetical.  Perhaps  meant  to  be  a  somewhat  affected  word. 
S.  puts  it  elsewhere  only  into  the  mouths  of  Armado  (Z.  Z.  Z,  i.  2. 
103)  and  Costard  (Jd.  iv.  I.  150).  Cotgrave,  however,  uses  it  to 
translate  the  Fr.  pathetique.  It  is  also  found  in  Lodge's  novel,  in 
Florio's  Montaigne,  Greene's  Never  too  Late,  etc.  For  hollow  cf. 
concave  in  iii.  4.  25  above. 

195.  The  old  justice.  Cf.  T.  and  C.  iv.  5.  225  :  "  that  old  common 
arbitrator,  Time." 

197.  Simply  misused.  Absolutely  abused.  See  on  iii.  2.  371 
above;   and  cf.  Much  Ado,  ii.  i.  246,  etc. 


Scene  II]  Notes  23 1 

198.  We  must  have,  etc.  Cf.  Lodge's  novel :  "  And  I  pray  you, 
quoth  Aliena,  if  your  robes  were  off,  what  mettal  are  you  made  of 
that  you  are  so  satyrical  against  women  ?  is  it  not  a  foule  bird  defiles 
his  own  nest  ?  " 

204.  The  bay  of  Portugal.  Wright  observes  :  "  In  a  letter  to  the 
Lord  Treasurer  and  Lord  High  Admiral,  Ralegh  gives  an  account 
of  the  capture  of  a  ship  of  Bayonne  by  his  man  Captain  Floyer  in  '  the 
Bay  of  Portugal'  (Edwards,  Life  of  Ralegh,  ii.  56).  This  is  the 
only  instance  in  which  I  have  met  with  the  phrase,  which  is  not 
recognized,  so  far  as  I  am  aware,  in  maps  and  treatises  on 
geography.  It  is,  however,  I  am  informed,  still  used  by  sailors  to 
denote  that  portion  of  the  sea  off  the  coast  of  Portugal  from  Oporto 
to  the  headland  of  Cintra.  The  water  there  is  excessively  deep,  and 
within  a  distance  of  forty  miles  from  the  shore  it  attains  a  depth  of 
upwards  of  1400  fathoms,  which  in  Shakespeare's  time  would  be 
practically  unfathomable." 

208.  Thought.  Probably  here,  as  Schmidt  makes  it,  =  love;  as 
in  T.  G.  of  V.\.\.  69,  T.  N.  ii.  4.  115,  etc.  Spleen  —  caprice;  or 
"  any  sudden  impulse  or  fit  beyond  the  control  of  reason."  Cf.  T.  of 
S.  iii.  2.  10 :  "A  mad-brain  rudesby,  full  of  spleen;"  etc.  It  is  used 
figuratively  in  this  sense  in  M.  N.  D.'\.  i.  146 :  — 

"  Brief  as  the  lightning  in  the  collied  night, 
That,  in  a  spleen,  unfolds  both  heaven  and  earth,"  etc. 

209.  Abuses.     Deceives.     See  on  iii.  5.  78  above. 

212.  Shadow.  Shade,  shady  spot.  Cf.  V.  and  A.  \^\,  Rich.  II. 
iii.  4. 25,  etc. 

Scene  II.  — 11.  His  leather  skin,  etc.  Cf.  Lodge's  novel: 
"What  news,  forrester?  hast  thou  wounded  some  deere,  and  lost 
him  in  the  fall?  Care  not  man  for  so  small  a  losse;  thy  fees  was 
but  the  skinne,  the  shoulder,  and  the  horns." 

12.  Then  sing,  etc.  In  the  foHos  this  line  and  the  stage  direc- 
tion are  printed  as  one  line  :  "  Then  sing  him  home,  the  rest  shall 


232  Notes  [Act  IV 

beare  this  burthen.  "     Various  changes  have  been  made  by  the 
editors,  but  the  majority  adopt  that  in  the  text. 

13.  Take  thoii  no  scorn.  Qi.  Hen.  F'.iv.  7.  107:  "your  majesty 
takes  no  scorn  to  wear  the  leek;"  and  i  Hen.  VI.  iv.  4.  35  :  "  And 
take  foul  scorn  to  fawn  on  him." 

1 7.  Lusty.  Jocosely  =  gallant ;  or,  as  Schmidt  gives  it,  "  almost 
=  merry." 

Scene  III.  —  Johnson  remarks  that  the  preceding  scene  was 
introduced  to  fill  up  an  interval,  which  is  to  represent  two  hours. 
We  find  such  scenes  in  other  plays,  but  S.  always  gives  them  a 
certain  interest  of  their  own. 

2.  Much  Orlando!  Spoken  ironically,  of  course;  but  there 
have  been  sundry  attempts  in  the  way  of  "  emendation." 

7.  Bid.  Often  used  by  S.  as  the  past  tense.  Cf.  M.  N.  D.  iv.  i. 
192,  T.  of  S.  i.  2.  30  (but  bade  in  37  just  below),  etc.  The  parti- 
ciple is  bid  in  every  instance  except  Much  Ado,  iii.  3.  32  (Verges's 
speech),  where  it  is  bidden.     Cf.  i.  2.  59  above. 

8.  Contetits.  Accented  as  in  21  and  in  v.  4.  130  below;  and  so 
always  in  S. 

9.  Action.     A  trisyllable.     See  on  i.  2.  265  above. 

10.  Of.     See  on  ii.  4.  44  above. 

14.  Swaggerer.  Bully.  Cf.  2  Hen.  IV.  ii.  4.  81,  83,  91,  104,  etc. 
For  the  thought,  cf.  M.  for  M.  iii.  2.  207 :  "  This  would  make 
Mercy  swear  and  play  the  tyrant." 

16.  And  that.     And  says  that. 

17.  As  rare  as  phoenix.     Cf.  Temp.  iii.  3.  21 :  — 

"  Now  I  will  believe 
That  there  are  unicorns,  that  in  Arabia 
There  is  one  tree,  the  phoenix'  throne,  one  phoenix 
At  this  hour  reigning  there." 

In  L.  C.  93  phoenix  is  used  as  an  adjective  =  matchless.     Accord- 
ing to  the  familiar  fable,  but  one  phoenix  existed  at  a  time,  having 


Scene  III]  Notes  2^^ 

risen  from  the  ashes  of  its  predecessor.  See  allusions  to  the  story 
in  3  Jlen.  VI.  i.  4.  35,  Hen.  VIII.  v.  5.  41,  etc.  For  Od  's  my  will! 
see  on  iii.  5.  43  above.  These  oaths,  as  Furness  suggests,  seem  to 
be  due  to  Rosalind's  "  attempts  to  assume  a  swashing  and  a  martial 
outside.     Before  she  donned  doublet  and  hose  she  uttered  none." 

23.  Turn'd  into.  Brought  to.  Cf.  T.  G.  of  V.  iv.  4.  67  :  "  turns 
me  to  shame  ;  "  Temp.  i.  2.  64 :  "  the  teen  that  I  have  turn'd  you 
to,"  etc. 

27.   A  huswife's  hand.     The  hand  of  a  working  housewife. 

32.   Defies.     For  a  different  sense,  see  epil.  19  below. 

34.  Giant-rude.  Gigantically  or  preposterously  rude.  See  on 
ii.  7.  31  above. 

35.  Ethiope.  Not  used  elsewhere  by  S.  as  an  adjective.  For 
the  noun,  cf.  T.  G.of  V.  ii.  6.  26,  L.  L.  L.  iv.  3.  118,  268,  M.  N.  D. 
iii.  2.  257,  etc.  ~^ 

37.    So  please  you.     See  on  i.  i.  90  above;   and  for  heard^  on  iv. 

r.  92. 

39.   Phebes.     Addresses  me  in  the  same  "  cruel "  strain. 

44.  laid  apart.  Laid  aside.  Qi.  Hen.  V.  ii.  4.  78:  "and  lay 
apart  The  borrowed  glories,"  etc.;  also  Jonson,  To  Cynthia:  "Lay 
thy  bow  of  pearl  apart,"  etc. 

48.  Vengeance.  Mischief.  Cf.  T.  A.  ii.  3.  113:  "This  ven- 
geance on  me  had  they  executed." 

49.  Meaning  me,  etc.     Meaning  that  I  am,  etc. 

50.  Eyne.  Also  written  eyen ;  an  old  plural  analogous  to  oxen, 
shoon,  etc.  It  is  used  without  rhyme  in  R.  of  I.  1229  and  Per.  iii. 
prol.  5. 

52.  Alack.  Alas.  S.  uses  the  two  words  interchangeably.  Thus 
we  have  "  alas  the  day !  "  in  iii.  2.  204  above,  and  "  alack  the  day !  " 
in  M.  ofV.  ii.  2.  73,  etc. 

53.  Aspect.  Perhaps  used  in  its  astrological  sense,  the  eyes 
being  compared  to  stars.  Cf.  Milton's  L' Allegro,  121 :  "  With  store 
of  ladies,  whose  bright  eyes  Rain  influence''^  (the  astrological  term). 
Cf.  also  R.  of  L.  14,  Sonn.  26.  10,  W.   T.  ii.  i.   107,  7\  and  C.  i. 


234  Notes  [Act  IV 

3.  92,  I  Hett.  IV.  i.   I.  97,  etc.     The  accent  of  the  word  in  S.  is 
always  on  the  last  syllable. 

54.  Whiles.  See  on  ii.  7.  128  above.  Chid  is  the  regular  past 
tense  of  chide  in  S.,  the  participle  being  chid  or  chidden. 

55.  Prayers.     A  dissyllable;   as  often. 

58.  By  him  seal  up,  etc.  That  is,  send  a  sealed  letter  by  him  to 
let  me  know,  etc. 

59.  Kind.  Nature;  as  in  A.  IV.  i.  3.  67,  etc.  Youlh  and  kind 
seems  to  be  =  youthful  nature  or  inclination. 

61.  Make.  Earn.  Cf.  M.  for  M.  iv.  3.  7  :  "  he  made  five  marks, 
ready  money." 

68.  Instrument.  Cf.  Ham.  iii.  3.  380-389:  "You  would  play 
upon  me,"  etc. 

70.  Snake.  Often  used  in  this  contemptuous  way.  Cf.  Sir  John 
Oldcastle,  1600:  "And  you,  poor  snake's,"  etc. 

75.  Fair  ones.  Wright  and  Furness  suggest  that  we  should 
read  "  fair  one,"  as  Celia  is  apparently  the  only  woman  present, 
and  it  is  she  who  replies.  We  should  expect,  however,  that  both 
she  and  Rosalind  would  be  addressed.  It  is  possible,  though  highly 
improbable,  that  it  was  a  slip  on  the  part  of  S. 

76.  Purlieus.  A  technical  term  for  the  borders  of  a  forest; 
used  by  S.  only  here.  Reed  quotes  Manwood,  Treatise  on  the 
Forest  laws,  c.y.yi.:  "Purlieu  .  .  .  is  a  certaine  territorie  of  ground 
adjoyning  unto  the  forest,  meared  and  bounded  with  immoveable 
marks,  meeres,  and  boundaries."  Cf.  Milton,  P.  L.  iv.  404 :  "  In 
some  purlieu  two  gentle  fawns  at  play,"  etc. 

78.  Bottom.  Valley,  dale.  Cf.  i  Hen.  IV.  iii.  i.  105:  "so  rich 
a  bottom  ;  "  Milton,  Comus,  532 :  "  the  hilly  crofts  That  brow  this 
bottom-glade,"  etc.  So  bottom-grass  in  V.  and  A.  236  =  grass 
growing  in  a  deep  valley. 

84.   Description.     Quadrisyllable.     See  on  i.  2.  265  above. 

86.  Favour.  Look,  aspect.  Cf.  ill- favour'' d,  iii.  5.  53  above. 
Bestows  himself  —  deports  or  conducts  himself.  Cf.  K.John,  iii.  i. 
225,  2  Hen.  IV.  ii.  2.  186,  etc. 


Scene  III]  Notes  235 

Sy.  Ripe.  Elder,  mature.  Low  =  short  of  stature;  as  in  Much 
Ado,  i.  I.  173,  iii.  i.  65  (where  it  is  opposed  to  "tall"),  M.  N.  D. 
iii.  2.  295-305,  etc. 

93.  Napkin.  Handkerchief,  as  is  evident  from  97  just  below. 
Cf.  Z.  C.  15  :  "  Oft  did  she  heave  her  napkin  to  her  eyne;  "  and 
0th.  iii.  3.  290,  where  Emilia  says  "  I  am  glad  I  have  found  this 
napkin,"  and  immediately  after  (306)  to  lago,  "  What  will  you 
give  me  now  For  that  same  handkerchief?" 

97.  Handkercher.  The  folio  spelling,  indicating  the  pronun- 
ciation. In  0th.  the  quarto  has  "  handkercher,"  the  folio  "  hand- 
kerchief." 

loi.  Food.  Commonly  quoted  "cud";  but  S.  does  not  use  the 
word.  On  siveet  and  bitter  fancy,  cf.  Lodge's  novel :  "  Wherein  I 
have  noted  the  variable  disposition  of  fancy,  that  lyke  the  polype 
in  colours,  so  it  changeth  into  sundry  humors,  being  as  it  should 
seeme  a  combat  mixt  with  disquiet,  and  a  bitter  pleasure  wrapt 
in  a  sweet  prejudice,  lyke  to  the  synople  tree,  whose  blossomes 
delight  the  smell,  and  whose  fruit  infects  the  taste." 

102.  Threw  his  eye.  Cf.  R.  of  L,  1499,  M.for  M.  v.  i.  23,  K. 
fohn,  iii.  3.  59,  etc. 

104.  An  oak.  The  folio  has  "  an  old  Oake,"  but  it  is  not  likely 
that  S.  would  crowd  the  line  with  an  adjective  implied  in  age  and 
antiquity.  It  reminds  me  of  a  line  in  an  ambitious  college  poem 
which  read  "  In  the  old  days  of  ancient  yore." 

108.  Gilded.  Schmidt  notes  that  S.  uses  gilded  twenty  times 
and  gilt  only  six  times. 

109.  Her.  There  is  here  a  confusion  of  genders,  as  in  Macb.  iii. 
2.  13:  — 

"  We  have  scotch'd  the  snake,  not  kill'd  it; 
She  '11  close  and  be  herself,  whilst  our  poor  malice 
Remains  in  danger  of  her  former  tooth." 

There  is  no  clear  case  in  S.  of  her  as  the  possessive  of  it. 

112.    Indented.     Sinuous,  winding.     Cf.   V.  and  A.  704:  "Turn 


236  Notes  [Act  IV 

and  return,  indenting  with  the  way."     Milton,  like    S.,   has   the 
word  twice.     See  Vac.  Ex.  94 :  — 

"  Or  Trent,  who,  like  some  Earth-born  giant,  spreads 
His  thirsty  arms  along  the  indented  meads ;  " 

and  P.  L.  ix.  496  (of  the  serpent)  :  — 

"  not  with  indented  wave, 
Prone  on  the  ground,  as  since." 

114.  With  udders,  etc.  And  therefore  htingry  (126  below). 
Cf.  Lear,  iii.  I.  12:  "the  cub-drawn  bear." 

117.  The  royal  disposition,  etc.  Douce  quotes  what  Batman 
{upon  Barthol.  xviii.  65)  says  of  lions:  "Also  their  mercie  is 
known  by  many  and  oft  ensamples :  for  they  spare  them  that  lye 
on  the  ground."     See  also  Lodge's  novel,  p.  161  above. 

122.  Render.  Describe,  report.  Cf.  2  Hen.  IV.  i.  I.  27: 
"rendered  me  these  news  for  true  ;  "  Hen.  V.  i.  i.  44:  "A  fearful 
battle  render'd  you  in  music,"  etc. 

125.  To.  With  regard  to.  Cf.  T.  of  S.  ii.  i.  334,  A.  W.  iv. 
3.  276,  etc. 

131.  Hurtling.  Din  of  conflict.  Cf. /.  C.  ii.  2.  22:  "The 
noise  of  battle  hurtled  in  the  air  ;  "  and  Gray,  Fatal  Sisters :  — 

"  Iron  sleet  of  arrowy  shower 
Hurtles  in  the  darken'd  air,"  etc. 

134.  Contrive.  Plot.  See  on  i.  i.  142  above;  oxidici.  M.  N.  D. 
iii.  2.  196,  etc. 

135.  Do  not  shame.  Am  not  ashamed.  Cf,  C.  of  E.  v.  i.  322: 
"Thou  sham'st  to  acknowledge  me  in  misery;  "  and  Macb.  ii.  2. 

64:- 

"  My  hands  are  of  your  colour,  but  I  shame 
To  wear  a  heart  so  white ;  " 

138.   For.     As   regards.     Cf.  v.  4.   66:   "But,  for  the  seventh 

cause,"  etc.     By  and  by  =  presently,  soon.     Cf.  Hen.  V.  ii,  2.  2,  etc. 

140.   Recountments.     Relations,  narratives;   used  by  S.  only  here. 


Scene  I]  Notes  237 

141.   As.     As  for  instance.     Cf.  ii.  i.  6  above. 

150.  Brief.  "In  brief"  (142  above).  Cf.  K.John,  v.  6.  18. 
Recover' d  =  restored;  as  in  Temp.  ii.  2.  71,  79,  97,  W.  T.  iv.  4. 
815,  etc. 

151.  Being  strong  at  heart.  Having  now  recovered  from  the 
fainting. 

159.  Cousin  Ganymede.  Johnson  prints  "  Cousin  —  Ganymede  !  " 
and  says,  "  Celia,  in  her  first  fright,  forgets  RosaUnd's  character  and 
disguise,  and  calls  out  cousin,  then  recollects  herself,  and  says  Gany- 
mede.'''' But  cousin  is  probably  used  loosely,  as  explained  on  i.  3. 
41  above. 

165.  Ah,  sirrah.  "  On  recovering  herself,  Rosalind  immediately 
resumes  her  boyish  sauciness,  and  a  little  overdoes  it"  (White). 
Moberly^,  who  prints  "  sirra,"  remarks,  "A  similar  form  seems  still 
in  use  in  America  (without  any  notion  of  upbraiding)."  He  appar- 
ently refers  to  the  vulgar  "  sirree,"  which  is  of  very  recent  origin 
and  of  course  has  no  connection  with  sirrah.  A  body  was  formerly 
used  in  this  way  in  serious  composition.  Cf.  M.  for  M.  iv.  4.  25, 
etc.  Wright  quotes  Psalm  liii.  i  (Prayer-Book  version)  :  "  The 
foolish  body  hath  said  in  his  heart." 

169.  Of  earnest.  In  earnest.  Cf.  i.  2.  27,  i.  3.  26,  and  iv.  i.  185 
above. 

172.  Take  a  good  heart.  S.  does  not  elsewhere  use  the  article 
in  this  and  similar  phrases.  Cf.  A.  and  C.v.  i.  56 :  "  Bid  her  have 
good  heart;  "  /.  C.  iv.  3.  288:  "  I  have  taken  heart,"  etc. 

177.  Draiv  homewards.  Come  home.  We  still  use  draw  near, 
but  not  =  come  in,  enter,  as  in  Temp.  v.  i.  318,  A.  W.  iii.  2.  loi, 
and  T.  of  A.  ii.  2.  46. 

ACT  V 

Scene  I.  —  10.  //  is  meat  and  drink  to  me.  A  common  pro- 
verbial expression.  Cf.  Af.  W.  i.  i.  306:  "That's  meat  and  drink 
to  me,  now." 


238  Notes  [Act  V 

12.  We  shall  be  flouting.  We  must  have  our  joke.  Y  ox  shall, 
cf.  i.  I.  126  above;   and  iox  flouting,  iii.  3.  106. 

15.  God  ye  good  evert.  That  is,  God  give  you  good  even.  Cf. 
R.  and  J,  i.  2.  58:  "God  gi' good-den"  ("  Godgigoden "  in  the 
folio),  and  Hen.  V.  iii.  2.  89:  "God-den,"  etc. 

35.    Wise  man.     See  on  i.  2.  87  above. 

52.  Female.  Touchstone,  Hke  many  of  his  kindred  now,  prefers 
female  to  the  "  common  "  woman. 

58.  Bandy.  Contend,  strive.  Cf.  7*.  ^.  i.  i.  312:  "  fit  to  bandy 
with  thy  lawless  sons."  It  was  originally  a  term  in  tennis,  referring 
to  tossing  the  ball  to  and  fro;   as,  figuratively,  in  R.  and  J.  iii,  i.  92. 

63.  God  rest  you  merry.  God  keep  you  merry.  Cf.  R.  and  J. 
i.  2.  65  :  "  rest  you  merry !  "  For  similar  forms,  see  M.  of  V.  i.  3. 
60,  M.for  M.  iv.  3.  186,  A.  and  C.  i.  i.  62,  etc. 

64.  Seeks.  The  singular  verb  is  often  found  with  two  singular 
subjects. 

Scene  II.  —  i.  Is  H  possible,  etc.  As  Steevens  remarks,  the  poet 
seems  to  be  aware  that,  in  varying  from  the  novel  here  (see  p.  163, 
foot-note),  he  makes  the  passion  of  Celia  appear  rather  hasty. 

4.  Persever.  The  word  was  so  spelt  in  the  time  of  S.  and  ac- 
cented on  the  penult.  Cf.  A.  W.  iv.  2.  36,  37,  M.  N.  D.  iii.  2. 
237,  etc. 

6.    Of  her.     Cf.  Hen.  V.  ii.  4.  50:  "The  kindred  of  him,"  etc. 

II.  Estate.  Cf.  Temp.  iv.  i.  85,  etc.  We  find  "estate  unto  "in 
M.  N.  D.\.i.  98. 

14.  And  all 's  contented  followers.  This  contraction  of  his,  as  of 
us,  was  not  uncommon. 

18.  And  you,  fair  sister.  Johnson  would  read  "your  fair  sis- 
ter; "  but,  as  Chamier  suggested,  Oliver  addresses  her  in  her  as- 
sumed character  of  a  woman  courted  by  Orlando.  Grant  White 
thinks  that  Oliver  knows  Rosalind's  sex,  having  been  informed  of 
it  by  Celia,  whom  he  has  wooed  and  won  since  the  end  of  the  last 
act;  "for  to  suppose  that  she  kept  Rosalind's  secret  from  him  one 


Scene  II]  Notes  239 

moment  longer  than  was  necessary  to  give  her  own  due  precedence 
would  be  to  exhibit  an  ignorance  in  such  matters  quite  deplorable." 
Let  the  reader  judge. 

26.  Handkercher.     See  on  iv.  3.  97  above. 

27.  And  greater  wonders,  etc.  Gervinus  thinks  that  Oliver  dis- 
covered the  sex  of  Rosalind  by  her  fainting,  and  told  Orlando  of  it; 
but  we  cannot  agree  with  him.  The  reference  may  be  (as  Rosalind 
understands  it)  to  the  sudden  betrothal  of  Oliver  and  Celia. 

28.  I  know  where  you  are.  That  is,  what  you  hint  at,  what  you 
mean.     Cf.  Lear,  iv.  6.  148:   "0,  ho,  are  you  there  with  me?" 

30.  Thrasotiical.  Boastful;  from  Thraso,  the  bragging  soldier 
in  the  Eunuch  us  of  Terence.  It  is  not  necessary  to  suppose  that 
S.  had  read  Terence,  for  the  word  was  already  in  use.  Cf.  Orlando 
Furioso,  1594:  "  a  Thrasonical  mad  cap,"  etc.  S.  uses  it  again  in 
L.  L.  Z.  V.  I.  14.     For  the  reference  to  Caesar,  cf.  Cymb.  iii.  i.  24, 

37.  Incontinent.  Immediately;  the  adjective  used  adverbially, 
as  often.  Cf.  Rich.  II.  v.  6.  48 :  "  put  on  sullen  black  incontinent," 
etc. 

38.  Wrath.     Passion,  ardour. 

39.  Clubs.  "  Clubs !  "  was  the  rallying  cry  of  the  London  ap- 
prentices, who  used  their  clubs  to  put  an  end  to  a  public  disturb- 
ance, or  sometimes  (cf.  Hen.  VIII.  v.  4.  53)  merely  to  join  in  one. 
See  R.  and  J.  i.  i.  80.  Malone  aptly  quotes  T.  A.  ii.  i.  37  :  "  Clubs, 
clubs !  these  lovers  will  not  keep  the  peace." 

41.  Nuptial.  S.  uses  the  singular  except  in  Per.  v.  3.  80.  In 
0th.  ii.  2.  8  the  quartos  have  the  plural. 

43.  By  so  mtcch  .  .  .  by  how  much,  eic.  Cf.  for  the  same  arrange- 
ment of  clauses,  Rich.  III.  ii.  2.  126 :  — 

"  Which  would  be  so  much  the  more  dangerous, 
By  how  much  the  estate  is  green  and  yet  ungovern'd ;  " 

for  the  inverse  order,  K.  John,  ii.  i.  80  and  i  Hen.  IV.  i.  2.  234. 
See  also  iii.  3.  61  above. 

51..   Of  good  conceit.     Of  good  intellect,  or  intelligence.     For  this 


240  Notes  [Act  V 

sense,  cf.  M.  of  V.  i.  i.  92:  "wisdom,  gravity,  profound  conceit;  " 
2  Hen.  IV.  ii.  4.  264 :  "  there  's  no  more  conceit  in  him  than  is  in 
a  mallet,"  etc. 

53.   Insomuch.     Seeing  that,  since;   used  by  S.  nowhere  else. 

56.  Grace  me.  Gain  me  credit.  Cf.  Hen.  V,  iii.  6.  71 :  "goes 
to  the  wars,  to  grace  himself  on  his  return,"  etc.  See  also  i.  i.  146 
above. 

58.  Three  year.  See  on  iii.  2.  314  above.  Conversed —h&^Vi 
acquainted  or  associated  with.  Cf.  T.  G.  of  V.  ii.  4.  63,  Rich.  III. 
iv.  2.  28,  etc. 

59.  Not  damnable.  Not  deserving  the  penalty  usually  inflicted 
upon  his  craft.  By  an  act  of  the  time  of  Elizabeth,  death  without 
benefit  of  clergy  was  the  punishment  for  the  practice  of  witchcraft 
whereby  death  ensued;  imprisonment  and  the  pillory  for  minor 
forms  of  the  crime.  An  act  of  James  I.  repealing  this  made  death 
the  penalty  for  invoking  evil  spirits  or  practising  witchcraft  at  all. 

60.  Gesture.  Bearing,  behaviour.  Cf.  C^^/z.  iv.  i.  88:  "mark  his 
gesture;  "  Id.  iv.  i.  142:  "his  gesture  imports  it,"  etc. 

64.  Inconvenient.     Disagreeable;   used  by  S.  only  here. 

65.  Human  as  she  is,  etc.  "  That  is,  not  a  phantom,  but  the  real 
Rosalind,  without  any  of  the  danger  generally  conceived  to  attend 
the  rites  of  incantation  "  (Johnson). 

68.  Tender  dearly.  Hold  dear,  value  highly  (though  I  risk  it 
by  confessing  myself  a  magician) .  Cf.  R.  and  J.  iii.  i .  74 :  "  which 
name  I  tender  As  dearly  as  my  own  ;  "  Ha7ti.  i.  3.  107  :  "  Tender 
yourself  more  dearly,"  etc. 

73.  Lover.     For  the  feminine  use,  see  on  iii.  4.  42  above. 

74.  Ungentleness.     Unkindness;   used  nowhere  else  by  S. 

79.   Him.     The  word  is  emphatic,  as  the  measure  shows.     Gr. 

483. 

91.   Fantasy.     See  on  ii.  4.  31  above. 

93.  Duty  and  observance.  Respect  and  homage.  Cf.  M.  W. 
ii.  2.  203 :  "  followed  her  with  a  doting  observance,"  etc. 

In  line  95  the  folio  repeats  "  observance,"  which  is  obviously  an 


Scene  III]  Notes  241 

error.  Obedience  seems,  on  the  whole,  the  best  correction  that  has 
been  suggested. 

100.  To  love.  For  loving;  a  common  use  of  the  infinitive.  See 
on  i.  I.  109  above. 

105.  Speak  —  say;  as  in  2  Hen.  IV.  iv.  2.  16,  Macb.  iv.  3.  154, 
etc.     Orlando's  reply  is  =  Because  I  speak  to  her,  etc. 

107.  Nor  doth  not.     See  on  ii.  3.  50  above,  and  cf.  v.  4.  86  below. 

108.  Like  the  howling,  etc.  Cf.  M.  N.  D.  v.  i.  379  :  "And  the 
wolf  behowls  the  moon."  See  also  /.  C.  iv.  3.  27.  In  Lodge's 
novel  we  find  the  expression,  "  thou  barkest  with  the  wolves  of 
Syria  against  the  moone."  There  were  wolves  in  Ireland  down  to 
the  beginning  of  the  eighteenth  century. 

Scene  III.  —  4.  Dishonest.  Immodest.  Cf.  Hen.  V.  i.  2.  49 : 
"  dishonest  manners,"  etc.  See  also  honest  in  i.  2.  38  and  iii.  3.  26 
above. 

To  be  a  woman  of  the  world.  That  is,  a  married  woman.  Cf. 
Much  Ado,  ii.  I.  331  :  "Thus  goes  every  one  to  the  world  but  I, 
and  I  am  sunburnt :  I  may  sit  in  a  corner  and  cry  heigh-ho  for  a 
husband !  "  A.  W.  i.  3.  20 :  "  If  I  may  have  your  ladyship's  good 
will  to  go  to  the  world,  Isbei  the  woman  and  I  will  do  as  we  may." 

8.   By  my  troth.     See  on  i.  2.  88  above. 

II.  Clap  into  H  roundly.  Set  about  it  at  once.  Cf,  M.  for  M. 
iv.  3.  43:  "I  would  desire  you  to  clap  into  your  prayers;  for,  look 
you,  the  warrant  's  come."  See  also  Much  Ado,  iii.  4.  44.  For 
roundly  =  at  once,  without  ceremony," cf.  T.  of  S.  i.  2.  59,  Rich.  II. 
ii.  I.  122,  etc.;  and  note  the  use  of  round  —  blunt,  unceremonious, 
in  T.  N.  ii.  3.  102,  Hen.  V.  iv.  I.  216,  etc. 

13.  The  only  prologues.     Only  the  prologues.     Cf.  i.  2.  191  above. 

14.  A  tune.  One  tune;  an  occasional  use  of  the  article,  which 
is  etymologically  the  same  as  07ie.     Cf.  R.  and  J.  ii.  4.  188,  etc. 

16.  In  the  folio  the  last  stanza  of  the  song  is  made  the  second. 
The  arrangement  here  given  is  found  in  the  earliest  copy  of  the 
song  with  musical  notes,  printed  in  Morley's  First  Book  of  Ayres, 

AS   YOU   LIKE   IT  —  1 6 


242  Notes  [Act  V 

or  little  short  Songs  to  sing  and  play  to  the  Lute,  1600;  also  in  a 
MS.  copy  made  certainly  before  1639,  and  preserved  in  the  Advo- 
cates' Library  at  Edinburgh. 

17.  With  a  hey,  etc.  In  the  preface  to  his  Ghostly  Psalms 
(quoted  by  Wright)  Coverdale  refers  to  these  meaningless  burdens 
of  songs :  "  And  if  women,  sitting  at  their  rocks,  or  spinning  at  the 
wheels,  had  none  other  songs  to  pass  their  time  withal,  than  such 
as  Moses'  sister,  Glehana's  [Elkanah's]  wife,  Debora,  and  Mary  the 
mother  of  Christ,  have  sung  before  them,  they  should  be  better 
occupied  than  with  hey  nony  nony,  hey  troly  loly,  and  such  like 
phantasies." 

19.  Ring  tifne.  The  time  of  exchanging  rings,  or  of  making 
love. 

22.  Bettveen  the  acres  of  the  rye,  etc.  "  The  common  field  being 
divided  into  acre-strips  by  balks  of  unploughed  turf,  doubtless  one 
of  these  green  balks  is  referred  to  here"  (Ridgeway).  For  this 
use  of  balk  (still  common  in  provincial  English),  cf.  Cowper,  Re- 
tirement:  "Green  balks  and  furrow'd  fields."  For  a«'^  =  field, 
cf.  Temp.  iv.  I.  81, 1  Hen.  IV.  i.  i.  25,  etc. 

35.  Matter.     Sense.     Cf.  ii.  i.  68  above. 

36.  Untuneable.  Inharmonious.  Cf.  T.  G.  of  V.  iii.  i.  208: 
"harsh,  untuneable,  and  bad."  See  also  tuneable  in  M.  N.  D.  i.  i. 
184  and  iv.  i.  129.  Some  eds.  substitute  "untimeable  ";  but  un- 
tuneable agrees  better  with  what  Touchstone  afterwards  says,  "  God 
mend  your  voices  !  "  The  page  mistakes  the  point  of  the  criticism, 
perhaps  intentionally. 

Scene  IV.' — 4.  As  those  that  fear,  q\.c.  That  is,  whose  hopes  are 
mingled  with  fear,  and  only  their  fears  certain.  That  this  is  the 
general  meaning  is  evident  from  the  preceding  line;  but  a  dozen 
"  emendations  "  have  been  proposed. 

5.  Whiles.  See  onii.  7.  128.  Compact  (cf.  ii.  7.  5)  is  accented 
by  S.  on  the  last  syllable  except  in  i  Hen.  VI.  v.  4.  163. 

12.  Hour.     Here  a  dissyllable. 


Scene  IV]  Notes  243 

18.  Make  all  this  matter  even.  Or,  as  we  now  say,  "  make  it 
all  straight."  So,  just  below,  make  these  doubts  all  even  —  recon- 
cile them,  clear  them  up.     Cf.  M.  for  M.  iii.  i.  41 :  — 

"  Yet  death  we  fear, 
That  makes  these  odds  all  even." 

In  A.  W.  ii.  I.  194,  "will  you  make  it  even  ?  "  =  will  you  make  it 
good  ? 

22.  To  wed.  We  should  expect  "you  '11  wed,"  but  such  changes 
of  construction  are  common  in  S. 

27.  Lively.  Lifelike.  Cf.  T.  of  A.  \.  i.  38:  "Livelier  than 
life."     ¥  or  favour,  see  on  i.  2.  39  above. 

32.  Desperate.  Because  those  who  pursued  them  were  supposed 
to  risk  their  souls  in  the  league  they  made  with  Satan. 

34.  Obscured.     Hidden;   as  in  i.  I.  68  above.     Cf.  M.  for  Af.  v. 

1.  395  :   "why  I  obscur'd  myself,"  etc. 

35.  Toward.  At  hand,  coming.  Cf.  M.  N.  D.  iii.  I.  83:  "a 
play  toward;"  T.  of  S.  v.  I.  14:  "some  cheer  is  toward,"  etc, 
Toivards  is  used  once  in  the  same  sense,  in  R.  and  J.  i.  5.  124. 

40.    Good  my  lord.     See  on  i.  2.  i .  above. 

43.  Put  me  to  my  purgation.  Challenge  me  to  prove  it.  Pur- 
gation properly  =  exculpation;   as  in  i.  3.  52  above.     Cf.  W.   T.  iii. 

2.  7  :  "  the  guilt  of  the  purgation,"  etc. 

44.  A  measure.  A  formal  court  dance.  Cf.  Much  Ado,  ii.  i, 
80 :  "a  measure,  full  of  state  and  ancientry."  See  also  Rich.  II. 
i.  3.  291,  etc. 

47.  Ajtd  like.  And  had  like,  or  was  likely.  Cf.  Much  Ado,  v. 
i.  115:  "We  had  like  to  have  had  our  two  noses  snapped  off;  " 

W.  T.  iv.  4.  750 :  "  Your  worship  had  like  to  have  given  us  one," 
etc.  QL  had  as  lief  (}.  I.  143)  and  /zi<?  =  likely  (i.  2.  18).  Like 
is  still  vulgarly  used  in  this  way,  at  least  in  New  England. 

48.  Ta'en  up.  Made  up.  Cf.  T.  N.  iii.  4.  320 :  "  I  have  his 
horse  to  take  up  the  quarrel,"  etc. 

54.    God  Held  you.     See  on  iii.  3.  75  above.     On  I  desire  you  of 


244  Notes  [Act  v 

the  like,  cf.  M.  N.  D.  iii.  I.  185:  "I  shall  desire  you  of  more  ac- 
quaintance," etc. 

56.  Copulatives.     Candidates  for  marriage. 

57.  Blood.     Passion.     Ci.  Much  Ado,  \\.  \.  i'^']-. — 

"  for  beauty  is  a  witch 
Against  whose  charms  faith  melteth  into  blood ;  " 

and  Id.  ii.  3.  1 70 :  "  O  my  lord,  wisdom  and  blood  combating  in  so 
tender  a  body,  we  have  ten  proofs  to  one  that  blood  hath  the 
victory."     On  ill-favoured,  cf.  iii.  5.  53  above,  and  see  on  i.  2.  39. 

60.   Honesty.     See  on  v.  3.  4  above. 

62.  Szvift.  Ready,  quick.  Cf.  iii.  2.  274:  "a  nimble  wit." 
Sententious  =  full  of  pithy  sayings.     Cf.  Z.  L,  Z.  v.  i.  3. 

64.  The  fool's  bolt.  Cf.  Hejt.  V.  iii.  7.  132:  "A  fool's  bolt  is 
soon  shot."     A  bolt  was  a  blunt-headed  arrow. 

65.  Such  dulcet  diseases.  Foolish  attempts  have  been  made  to 
mend  the  fool's  talk  by  changing  diseases  to  "  discourses,"  "  dis- 
cords," or  "phrases." 

69.  Seeming.     Seemingly,  becomingly.     For  <2'j',  cf.  ii.  i.  6  above. 

70.  On  dislike,  Warburton  quotes  Beaumont  and  Fletcher,  Queen 
of  Corinth,  iv.  i :  - — 

"  Has  he  familiarly 
Dislik'd  your  yellow  starch,  or  said  your  doublet 
Was  not  exactly  frenchified  ?  or  that  that  report 
In  fair  terms  was  untrue  ?  or  drawn  your  sword, 
Cried  'twas  ill-mounted  ?  has  he  given  the  lie 
In  circle,  or  oblique,  or  semi-circle, 
Or  direct  parallel  ?  you  must  challenge  him." 

75.  Quip.  A  sharp  jest,  or  sarcasm;  or,  as  Lyly  defines  it  in 
his  Campaspe,  "  a  short  saying  of  a  sharp  wit,  with  a  bitter  sense 
in  a  sweet  word."  Cf.  T.  G.  of  V.  iv.  2.  12,  M.  W.  i.  3.  45,  Much 
Ado,  ii.  3.  249,  etc. 

76.  Disabled.    Disparaged.     See  on  iv.  i.  32  above. 


Scene  IV]  Notes  245 

80.  Countercheck.  Check;  as  in  chess.  S.  uses  the  word  again 
in  K.  John,  ii.  i.  224:  "A  countercheck  before  your  gates." 

87.  Measured  swords.  A  preliminary  to  a  duel.   Cf.^a;;z.v.  2.  276. 

88.  Cait  you  jiominate,  etc.  Jaques  apparently  suspects  that 
Touchstone's  enumeration  of  the  lies  may  have  been  an  impromptu 
invention,  and  that  he  may  not  be  able  to  repeat  it. 

90.  By  the  book.  S.  doubtless  refers  here  to  a  book  by  Vincentio 
Saviolo,  printed  in  1594.  It  is  entitled  "  Vincentio  Saviolo  his  Prac- 
tise. In  two  Bookes.  The  first  intreating  of  the  vse  of  the  Rapier 
and  Dagger.  The  second,  of  Honor  and  honorable  Quarrels."  The 
second  book  contains  "  A  Discourse  most  necessarie  for  all  Gentle- 
men that  haue  in  regarde  their  honors  touching  the  giuing  and 
receiuing  of  the  Lie,  wherevpon  the  Duello  &  the  Combats  in 
diuers  sortes  doth  insue,  &  many  other  inconueniencies,  for  lack 
only  of  the  true  knowledge  of  honor,  and  the  contrarie :  &  the 
right  vnderstanding  of  wordes,  which  heere  is  plainly  set  downe, 
beginning  thus."  The  subject  is  treated  under  the  following  heads  : 
"  Of  the  manner  and  diuersitie  of  Lies;  "  "  Of  Lies  certaine;  "  "  Of 
conditionall  Lyes;  "  "  Of  the  Lye  in  generall;  "  *'  Of  the  Lye  in  par- 
ticular; "  "  Of  foolish  Lyes."  The  chapter  "  Of  conditionall  Lyes," 
which  seems  to  correspond  to  Touchstone's  "  Lie  circumstantial," 
begins  thus :  "  Conditionall  lyes  be  such  as  are  giuen  conditionally : 
as  if  a  man  should  sale  or  write  these  woordes.  If  thou  hast  saide 
that  I  haue  offered  my  Lord  abuse,  thou  lyest :  or  if  thou  saiest  so 
heerafter,  thou  shalt  lye.  And  as  often  as  thou  hast  or  shalt  so  say, 
so  oft  do  I  and  will  I  say  that  thou  doest  lye.  Of  these  kinde  of 
lyes  giuen  in  this  manner,  often  arise  much  contention  in  words, 
and  diuers  intricate  worthy  battailes,  multiplying  wordes  vpon  wordes 
whereof  no  sure  conclusion  can  arise."  The  author  warns  his  read- 
ers "  by  all  meanes  possible  to  shunne  all  conditionall  lyes,  neuer 
geuing  anie  other  but  certayne  Lyes :  the  which  in  like  manner 
they  ought  to  haue  great  regarde,  that  they  giue  them  not,  vnless 
they  be  by  some  sure  means  infallibly  assured,  that  they  giue  them 
rightly,  to  the  ende  that  the  parties  vnto  whome  they  be  giuen,  may 


246 


Notes  [Act  V 


be  forced  without  further  Ifs  and  Ands,  either  to  deny  or  iustifie, 
that  which  they  haue  spoken." 

91.  Books  for  good  manners.  There  were  many  such  in  the  time 
of  S.,  and  indeed  at  a  much  earlier  date.  One  was  published  by 
Wynkyn  de  Worde  in  1507.  There  was  an  earlier  edition  printed 
by  Pynson  in  1494,  stated  to  be  "  finyshed  and  translated  out  of 
Frenshe  into  Englissh  the  viij.  day  of  June  in  the  yere  of  oure  Lorde 
i486."  Pynson  also  printed  another  book  entitled  "  the  myrrour 
of  good  maners,"  etc.,  translated  from  the  Latin  by  Alexander 
Bercley.  The  Boke  of  Nurture,  or  Schoole  of  good  maners  for  men, 
servants,  and  children,  compiled  by  Hugh  Rhodes,  passed  through 
at  least  five  editions  between  1554  and  1557.  Several  other  books 
of  the  kind  were  published  about  the  same  time. 

102.  Swore  brothers.  Like  ih.&  fratres  jurati,  who  took  an  oath 
to  share  each  other's  fortunes.  Cf.  Rich.  II.  v.  i.  20,  Much  Ado, 
i.  I.  73,  I  Hen.  IV.  ii.  4.  7,  and  2  Hen.  IV.  iii.  2.  345. 

106.  A  stalking-horse.  A  horse,  or  the  figure  of  one,  behind 
which  sportsmen  approached  their  game.  Cf.  Much  Ado,  ii.  3.  95  : 
"Stalk  on,  stalk  on;  the  fowl  sits."  Nares  cites  The  Malcontent : 
"  A  fellow  that  makes  religion  his  stalking-horse." 

107.  Presentation.  Semblance;  used  by  S.  only  here  and  in 
Rich.  III.  iv.  4.  84 :  "  The  presentation  of  but  what  I  was." 

108.  Still  music.  Soft  music.  The  folio  has  the  stage  direction 
"  Musick  still "  in  M.  N.  D.  iv.  i ,  80.  Cf.  "  stilly  sounds  "  in  Hen.  V. 
iv.  prol.  5. 

no.  Atone  together.  Are  at  one,  or  agree  together.  Cf.  Cor. 
iv.  6.  72:  "He  and  Aufidius  can  no  more  atone,"  etc.  It  is  used 
transitively  (=make  at  one,  reconcile)  in  Rich.  II.  i.  i.  202  and 
0th.  iv.  r.  244. 

114.  Her  hand.  The  1st  and  2d  folios  have  "his  hand";  and 
in  the  next  line  all  the  folios  have  "  his  bosom."  On  115  cf.  Z.  L.  L. 
V.  2.  826 :  "  Hence  ever  then  my  heart  is  in  thy  breast;  "  Rich.  III. 
i.  2.  205:  "Even  so  thy  breast  encloseth  my  poor  heart;  "  and 
V.  and  A.  582:  — 


Scene  IV]  Notes  247 

"  her  heart, 
The  which,  by  Cupid's  bow  she  doth  protest, 
He  carries  thence  encaged  in  his  breast," 

130.  If  truth  holds  true  contents.  "If  truth  contains  truth,  if  the 
possession  of  truth  be  not  imposture"  (Caldecott). 

133.  Accord.  Agree,  consent.  Cf.  T.  G.  ofV.  i.  3.  go,  Hen.  V. 
ii,  2.  86,  etc. 

135.    Sure.     Surely  or  securely  united.     Cf.  31.  W.  v.  5.  237 :  — 

"  The  truth  is,  she  and  I,  long  since  contracted. 
Are  now  so  sure  that  nothing  can  dissolve  us." 

139.  That  reason,  etc.  "  That  the  facts  when  stated  may  diminish 
wonder"  (Moberly). 

140.  Finish.  Intransitive;  as  in  i  Heti.  VI.  iii.  i.  201 :  "His 
days  may  finish  ere  that  hapless  time." 

141.  Wedding  is  great  Juno's  crown,  etc.  Grant  White  remarks : 
"  Both  the  thought  and  the  form  of  the  thought  in  this  Song  seem 
to  me  as  unlike  Shakespeare's  as  they  could  well  be,  and  no  less 
unworthy  of  his  genius;  and  for  the  same  reasons  I  think  it  not 
improbable  that  the  whole  of  Hymen's  part  is  from  another  pen 
than  his."  For  myself,  I  have  no  doubt  whatever  that  this  matter 
is  an  interpolation;  and  it  may  be  noted  that  lines  125-146  make 
an  awkward  break  in  the  dialogue,  which  would  run  along  very 
naturally  without  them.  The  interpolation  (like  that  of  Hecate's 
part  in  Macb.  and  the  vision  in  Cymb.)  was  such  as  the  stage  man- 
agers of  the  time  were  fond  of  thrusting  into  plays  for  stage  effect. 

144.  High  wedlock,  etc.  That  is,  let  it  be  highly  honoured,  as 
the  next  line  shows. 

148.  Eveti  daughter,  welcome,  etc.  That  is,  "  I  address  you  not 
as  niece  merely,  but  as  daughter,  since  you  are  welcome  in  no  less 
degree  than  a  daughter"  (Allen,  quoted  by  Furness). 

150.  Fancy.  Love.  See  on  iii.  2.  358  above.  Combine  =  hm.d; 
as  in  M.for  M.  iv.  3.  149 :  "  I  am  combined  by  a  sacred  vow." 


248  Notes  [Act  V 

156.  Address" d.  Prepared.  Cf.  7/(?/^.  K  iii.  3.  58 :  "To-morrow 
for  the  march  are  we  address'd."  Poiver  =  army.  S.  uses  both 
the  singular  and  the  plural  in  this  sense,  as  we  do  force  and  forces. 
Cf. y.  C.  iv.  3.  169:  "with  a  mighty  power;  "  and  Id.  iv.  3.  308: 
"  Bid  him  set  on  his  powers,"  etc. 

157.  hi  his  oivn  conduct.  Led  by  himself.  Cf.  K.fohjt,  iv.  2. 
129:  "Under  whose  conduct  came  those  powers  of  France?" 
Cymb.  iv.  2.  340 :  "  Under  the  conduct  of  bold  lachimo,"  etc. 

160.  Religious.     See  on  iii.  2.  340  above. 

161.  Question.  See  on  iii.  4.  35  above.  The  ellipsis  of  the  sub- 
ject in  was  converted  vs,  of  a  kind  not  uncommon  in  S. 

164.  Restored.     Being  restored. 

165.  ExiVd.  S.  puts  the  accent  on  either  syllable.  CtR.andJ. 
iii.  2.  133  and  Macb.  v.  8.  66.     For  the  noun,  see  on  ii.  i.  i. 

166.  Engage.  Pledge.  Cf.  i  Hen.  IV.  ii.  4.  563:  "I  will  en- 
gage my  word  to  thee;  "  J.  C.  ii.  i.  127:  "honesty  to  honesty 
engaged,"  etc. 

167.  Offer'st  fairly.     Makest  a  good  offering  or  contribution. 

168.  To  the  other.     Through  his  marriage  with  Rosalind. 

169.  At  large.     Of  great  extent.     Cf.  T.j^nd  C.  i.  3.  346:- — 

"  The  baby  figure  of  the  giant  mass 
Of  things  to  come  at  large."  , 

170.  Do  those  ends,  etc.     Finish  up  the  work  so  well  begun. 

172.  After.  Afterwards;  as  in  Temp.  \\.  2.  10  \  "  And  after  bite 
me,"  etc.  For  every,  cf.  A.  and  C.  i.  2.  t^%  :  "  every  of  your  wishes." 
It  is  curious  that  every  is  the  only  one  of  these  so-called  "  adjective 
pronouns "  which  we  do  not  now  use  in  this  way.  We  can  say 
"  any  of  them,"  "  each  of  them,"  etc.,  but  not  "  every  of  them." 

173.  Shrewd.  Evil.  Cf.  Hen.  VIII.  v.  3.  178:  "a  shrewd 
turn"   (that  is,  an  ill  turn),  etc. 

175.  States.  Estates.  Cf.  AI.  of  V.  iii.  2.  262:  "my  state  was 
nothing;  "  I  Hen.  IV.  iv.  I.  46 :  "  the  exact  wealth  of  all  our  states," 
etc.     On  the  other  hand,  estate  was  sometimes  =  state,  condition; 


Scene  IV]  Notes  249 

as  in  M.  of  V.  iii.  2.  239 :  "  his  letter  there  Will  show  you  his  es- 
tate," etc.     Cf.  Genesis,  xliii.  7,  Psalms,  cxxxvi.  23,  etc. 

176.  New-fallen.  Cf.  I  Hen.  IV.  v.  i.  44:  "your  new-fallen 
right."  For  fall  =  befall,  see  A.  and  C.  iii.  7.  40 :  "  no  disgrace 
shall  fall  you,"  etc. 

179.  Measures.      See  on  44  above. 

180.  By  your  patience.  "With  your  permission.  Cf.  Hen.  V. 
iii.  6.  31,  Cor.  i.  3.  81,  etc.  So  "with  your  patience;  "  as  in 
I  Hen.  VI.  ii.  3.  78,  etc. 

1 82.  Pompous.  Full  of  pomp,  splendid.  Cf.  Rich.  II.  iv.  I. 
250 :  "  the  pompous  body  of  a  king ;  "  Per.  iii.  prol.  4 :  "  this 
most  pompous  marriage  feast."  It  now  carries  with  it  the  idea  of 
ostentatious  display. 

184.  Converiites.  Converts;  a  word  not  used  by  S.  Ci.  K.  John, 
V.  I.  19:  "a  gentle  convertite;  "  and^.  of  L.  743:  "a  heavy 
convertite." 

185.  Matter.     See  <5h  ii.i.  68  above. 

186.  You  to  your  former  honour,  etc.  That  is,  bequeath  your 
former  honour  to  you.  Cf.  Much  Ado,  v.  I.  282:  "Impose  me  to 
what  penance *'*"'7?2V/^.  //.  iv.  i.  106:  "Till  we  assign  you  to  your 
days  of  trial;  "  Macb.  v.  8.  49:  "I  would  not  wish  them  to  a 
fairer  death,"  etc. 

187.  Deserves.     For  the  singular,  cf.  v.  i.  63  above. 

198.  Steevens  remarks  that  S.  has  here  forgotten  old  Adam, 
"  whose  fidelity  should  have  entitled  him  to  notice  at  the  end  of 
the  piece,  as  well  as  to  that  happiness  which  he  would  naturally 
have  found  in  the  return  of  fortune  to  his  master."  Lodge,  at  the 
end  of  the  npvel,  makes  him  captain  of  the  king's  guard. 


EPILOGUE 


2.    Unhandsome.     Improper,  unbecoming;   as  in  I  Hen.  IV.  i. 
3-  44- 


250 


Notes 


3.  Good  wine  needs  no  bush,  A  common  proverb.  A  bush  or 
tuft  of  ivy  was  in  olden  time  the  sign  of  a  vintner.  Steevens  quotes 
Gascoigne,  Glass  of  Government,  1575:  "Now  a  days  the  good 
wyne  needeth  none  ivye  garland."  Cotgrave  (/r.  Dict.^  has 
"Bouchon:  m.  A  stopple;  also,  a  wispe  of  strawe,  &c.,  also,  the 
bush  of  a  tauerne,  or  alehouse." 

8.  Insinuate  with  you.  Ingratiate  myself  with  you.  Cf.  V.  and 
A.  1012 :  "  With  Death  she  humbly  doth  insinuate;  "  and  Rich.  III. 
i.  4.  152:  "  he  would  insinuate  with  thee  but  to  make  thee  sigh." 

9.  Furnished.     Dressed.     See  on  iii.  2.  241  above. 

II.  Conjtire.  Accented  by  S.  on  either  syllable  without  regard 
to  the  meaning. 

13.   As  please  you.     As  may  please  you. 

17.  If  I  were  a  woman.  Caldecott  assumes  that  Rosalind  is 
still  in  male  apparel;  but  he  forgets  that  in  the  time  of  S.  women 
never  played  in  the  theatres.  Pepys  in  his  Diary  has  several 
allusions  to  this;   for  instance  :  — 

January  3,  1660.  "To  the  Theatre,  where  was  acted  'Beggar's 
Bush,'  it  being  very  well  done;  and  here  the  first  time  that  ever  I 
saw  women  come  upon  the  stage." 

Feb.  1 2,  1 660/ 1 .  "By  water  to  Salsbury  Court  play-house,  where 
not  liking  to  sit,  we  went  out  again,  and  by  coach  to  the  Theatre, 
and  there  saw  *  The  Scornfull  Lady,'  now  done  by  a  woman,  which 
makes  the  play  appear  much  better  than  ever  it  did  to  me." 

August  i8th,  1660.  "Captain  Ferrers  took  me  and  Creed  to  see 
the  Cockpitt  play,  the  first  that  I  have  had  time  to  see  since  my 
coming  from  sea,  *  The  Loyall  Subject,'  where  one  Kinaston,  a  boy, 
acted  the  Duke's  sister,  but  made  the  loveliest  lady  that  ever  I  saw 
in  my  life." 

Edward  Kynaston,  mentioned  by  Pepys,  was  engaged  by  Sir  W. 
Davenant  in  1660  to  perform  the  principal  female  characters.  He 
also  played  leading  male  parts.  Pepys,  under  date  of  January  7, 
1660,  says:  "Tom  and  I  and  my  wife  to  the  Theatre,  and  there 
saw  *  The  Silent  Woman.'     Among  other  things  here,  Kinaston  the 


Notes  251 


boy  had  the  good  turn  to  appear  in  three  shapes :  first,  as  a  poor 
woman  in  ordinary  clothes,  to  please  Morose;  then  in  fine  clothes, 
as  a  gallant;  and  in  them  was  clearly  the  prettiest  woman  in  the 
whole  house:  and  lastly,  as  a  man;  and  then  likewise  did  appear 
the  handsomest  man  in  the  house."  It  was  this  Kynaston  who 
once  kept  Charles  II.  waiting  for  a  tragedy  to  begin  "  because  the 
queen  was  not  shaved."  He  lived  until  1712,  and  was  buried  in 
St.  Paul's  Church,  Covent  Garden. 

19.  Liked.  Pleased.  Cf.  Hen.  V.  iii.  prol.  32:  "The  offer 
likes  not;  "  Id.  iv.  3.  77:  "Which  likes  me  better,"  etc.  Defied  = 
slighted,  despised  (Schmidt).  Cf.  K.  John,  iii.  4.  23:  "No,  I 
defy  all  counsel,  all  redress,"  etc.;  also  Spenser,  F.  Q.  ii.  8.  52: 
"  Foole  !  (sayd  the  Pagan)  I  thy  gift  defye  "  (disdain,  or  refuse) ; 
Four  Prentices  of  London  (quoted  by  Nares)  :  — 

"  Vain  pleasures  I  abhor,  all  things  defy, 
That  teach  not  how  to  despair,  or  how  to  die." 

Cf.  defiance  —  disdain,  rejection;   as  in  M.  for  M.  iii.  i.  143,  etc. 


APPENDIX 


Comments  on  Some  of  the  Characters 

Jaques.  —  Jaques  is  the  great  enigma  of  the  play ;   and  it  is  curious 

that  there  should  be  such  a  diversity  of  opinion  concerning  him. 

According  to  Hudson  and  several  other  critics,  he  is  "  a  perfectly 

I  harmless  though  utterly  useless  man,  a  philosopher  with  something 

lof  the  fool  in  him,  as  Touchstone  is  a  fool  with  something  of  the 

Iphilosopher." 

Grant  White,  Dr.  Moberly,  and  some  of  the  Germans,  on  the 
other  hand,  believe  him  to  be  unmitigatedly  depraved,  —  a  worn- 
out,  misanthropic  old  profligate,  introduced  as  a  marked  contrast 
to  Orlando,  Rosalind,  and  the  banished  Duke.  White  says:  "What 
Jaques  called  melancholy  was  what  we  now  call  cynicism  —  a  sullen, 
scoffing,  snarling  spirit;  and  this  Jaques  had.  He  was  one  of  those 
men  who  believe  in  nothing  good,  and  who,  as  the  reason  of  their 
lack  of  faith  in  human  nature  and  of  hope  in  human  happiness,  tell 
us  that  they  have  seen  the  world.  ...  In  brief,  Jaques  was  Falstaff 
without  his  fat,  and  without  his  humour." 

For  myself,  I  think  the  truth  lies  between  these  two  extremes, 
and  that  Dowden  has  hit  it  very  well.  He  says :  "The  melancholy 
of  Jaques  was  not  grave  and  earnest,  but  sentimental,  a  self-indul- 
gent humour,  a  petted  foible  of  character,  melancholy  prepense  and 
cultivated.  .  .  .  Jaques  died,  we  know  not  how  or  when  or  where; 
but  he  came  to  life  again  a  century  later,  and  appeared  in  the  world 
as  an  English  clergyman.  We  need  stand  in  no  doubt  as  to  his 
character,  for  we  all  know  him  under  his  later  name  of  Laurence 
Sterne.  .  .  .     His  whole  life  is  unsubstantial  and  unreal,  a  curiosity 

252 


Appendix  253 

of  dainty  mockery.  To  him  all  the  world  's  a  stage,  and  all  the  men 
and  women  merely  players.  The  world,  not  as  it  is,  but  as  it  mir- 
rors itself  in  his  own  mind,  which  gives  to  each  object  a  humorous 
distortion  —  this  is  what  alone  interests  Jaques." 

The  comparison  of  Jaques  to  Sterne  seems  to  me  a  peculiarly 
happy  one.  I  do  not  know  that  it  makes  him  much  better  than 
Grant  White  describes  him,  but  it  brings  out  more  nicely  the  pre- 
cise quahty  of  his  badness.  He  was  not  the  bitter,  scoffing  cynic 
that  White  makes  him.  His  character  had  not  the  vigour  and 
earnestness  which  that  impHes.  It  was  rather  the  dainty,  shallow, 
half-real,  half-affected  cynicism  of  Sterne.  He  not  only  looked  on 
all  men  and  women  as  merely  players,  but  he  was  an  actor  himself. 
His  melancholy  was  a  part  that  he  played,  and  so  was  his  sentiment, 
which  was  rather  sentimentahty.  Like  a  good  actor,  he  entered  so 
thoroughly  into  the  spirit  of  the  part  he  assumed  that  to  a  superficial 
observer  it  might  seem  quite  real. 

Compare  what  Thackeray  says  of  Sterne :  "  I  suppose  Sterne 
had  this  artistical  sensibility;  he  used  to  blubber  perpetually  in  his 
study,  and  finding  his  tears  infectious,  and  that  they  brought  him 
a  great  popularity,  he  exercised  the  lucrative  gift  of  weeping,  he 
utilized  it,  and  cried  on  every  occasion.  I  own  that  I  do  not  value 
or  respect  much  the  cheap  dribble  of  those  fountains.  He  fatigues 
me  with  his  perpetual  disquiet,  and  his  uneasy  appeals  to  my  risible 
or  sentimental  faculties.  He  is  always  looking  in  my  face,  watch- 
ing his  effect,  uncertain  whether  I  think  him  an  impostor  or  not; 
posture-making,  coaxing,  and  imploring  me :  '  See  what  sensibility 
I  have  —  own  now  that  I  am  very  clever  —  do  cry  now,  you  can't 
resist  this  ! '  " 

This  describes  Jaques  as  exactly  as  it  does  Sterne;  and  if  we 
chose  to  dwell  on  the  subject  we  might  point  out  resemblances 
more  in  detail,  Sterne's  weeping  over  the  dead  donkey  might  be 
paralleled  by  Jaques'  lament  over  the  wounded  deer;  and  so  on. 
And  yet  neither  had  much  genuine  feeling.  They  could  both  grow 
lachrymose  and  sentimental  over  donkeys  and  deer,  but  had  slight 


254  Appendix 

sympathy  for  real  human  suffering.  We  all  know  the  story  of 
Sterne's  domestic  relations;  and  Jaques  has  nothing  to  utter  but 
a  few  unfeeling  jests  when  Orlando  appears  at  the  dinner-table  in 
the  forest  and  demands  food  for  himself  and  the  starving  Adam. 

It  is  to  be  noted  that  the  Duke  and  Rosalind  and  Orlando  all 
see  through  the  sham  melancholy  and  sentimentality  of  Jaques. 
Moberly  thinks  that  they  see  how  bad  he  is,  and  intend  to -reprove 
him  with  righteous  severity  for  his  sins;  but  their  judgment  and 
censure  of  him  do  not  seem  to  me  so  serious  as  that.  They  are 
amused  by  him  and  interested  in  him,  but  they  cannot  thoroughly 
like  him,  and  they  enjoy  "  showing  him  up."  The  Duke  loves,  as 
he  says,  "  to  cope  him  in  his  sullen  fits,"  and,  when  Jaques  talks  of 
setting  up  as  a  reformer,  laughs  at  the  idea  that  the  affected  old 
libertine  should  think  of  attempting  a  part  like  that,  good  actor 
though  he  was.  Rosalind  and  Orlando  both  put  him  to  flight  in 
the  encounter  of  wit  and  sarcasm.  Rosalind  is  especially  happy  in 
her  ridicule  of  his  boasted  experience  as  a  traveller,  from  which 
he  has  gained  nothing  but  a  contempt  for  his  own  country. 

At  the  end  of  the  play  Jaques  runs  away  from  the  happiness  with 
which  he  could  have  no  hearty  sympathy;  and  yet  there  is  a  touch 
of  good  feeling  in  his  farewell  to  the  Duke  and  the  married  couples 
which  is  inconsistent  with  the  theory  that  he  is  utterly  depraved, 
and  upon  which  no  one  of  the  editors  on  either  side  has  commented. 
To  the  Duke  he  says :  — 

"  You  to  your  former  honour  I  bequeath ; 
Your  patience  and  your  virtue  well  deserve  it ;  " 

to  Orlando:  "You  to  a  love  that  your  true  faith  doth  merit;  "  and 
so  on  with  the  rest.  He  has  a  friendly  word  for  all,  with  a  harm- 
less fling  at  Touchstone  and  Audrey,  and  I  do  not  believe  that 
Shakespeare  meant  it  to  be  understood  as  insincere.  For  the  mo- 
ment Jaques  really  felt  as  he  spoke,  and  in  bidding  good-by  to  his 
companions  in  the  forest  comedy  he  could  not  help  paying  an 
honest  tribute  to  their  true  worth. 


Appendix  255 

Rosalind.  —  Rosalind  is  one  of  the  most  charming  of  Shake- 
speare's women.  Perhaps  she  reminds  us  more  of  Beatrice  than 
of  any  other,  and  yet  she  is  not  wholly  like  her.  She  is  as  witty, 
as  piquant,  as  vivacious,  but  she  has  a  loveliness  and  a  fascination 
all  her  own.  In  her  disguise,  though  she  wears  it  naturally  and 
easily  —  quite  unlike  Viola,  for  instance,  who  is  not  always  entirely 
at  ease  in  it  —  she  does  not  lose  her  feminine  sweetness  and  deli- 
cacy. She  has  sometimes  been  criticized  as  a  trifle  too  free  in  her 
talk;  but  in  this  respect  it  is  easy  to  do  injustice  to  any  of  Shake- 
speare's women.  Lest  a  man's  defence  of  them  should  not  be  ac- 
cepted as  satisfactory,  let  me  quote  a  woman's  (Mrs.  Jameson's)  :  — 

"  How  her  wit  flutters  free  as  air  over  every  subject !  With  what 
a  careless  grace,  yet  with  what  exquisite  propriety !  .  .  .  and  if  the 
freedom  of  some  of  the  expressions  used  by  Rosalind  or  Beatrice 
be  objected  to,  let  it  be  remembered  that  this  was  not  the  fault  of 
Shakespeare  or  the  women,  but  generally  of  the  age,  Portia,  Bea- 
trice, Rosalind,  and  the  rest  lived  in  times  when  more  importance 
was  attached  to  things  than  to  words;  now  we  think  more  of  words 
than  of  things;  and  happy  are  we  in  these  days  of  super-refinement 
if  we  are  to  be  saved  by  our  verbal  morality." 

I  believe  that  Mrs.  Jameson  is  right.  Looked  at  fairly,  there  is 
nothing  indelicate  in  anything  that  Rosalind  says :  the  indelicacy 
is  in  the  criticism,  not  in  what  is  criticised;  and,  as  Moberly,  who 
is  a  clergyman  and  a  teacher,  remarks  in  speaking  of  this  kind  of 
fastidiousness,  "  Shakespeare  would  have  smiled  at  it." 

I  do  not  say  that  we  should  copy  the  old  English  freedom  of 
speech,  but  simply  that  we  should  not  misjudge  it.  We  must  be 
governed  by  the  conventional  usage  of  our  own  day  in  these  mat- 
ters; but  we  should  not  forget  that  it  is  merely  conventional,  and 
that  the  apparent  grossness  of  Elizabethan  language  is  only  appar- 
ent, being  due  to  the  prevailing  fashion  of  speech,  not  to  a  lower 
standard  of  morality. 

Rosalind  has  a  singularly  healthy  nature  —  mentally  and  morally 
no  less  than  physically :  she  is  sound  and  sweet  in  heart,  as  she  is 


2^6  Appendix 

fair  of  face.     How  admirably,  as  we  have  already  seen,  she  puts  to 

flight  the  melancholy  Jaques  with  his  self-petted  sentimentality,  his 

travelled  affectation  and  conceit !     How  witty  and  how  womanly 

her  snubbing  of  the  pert  little  Phebe,  when  the  shepherdess  laughs 

at  the  idea  that  she  can  ever  suffer  from  "  love's  keen  arrows,"  as 

Silvius  does ! 

"  But  till  that  time  (she  says) 

Come  not  thou  near  me ;  and  when  that  time  comes 

Afflict  me  with  thy  mocks,  pity  me  not, 

As  till  that  time  I  shall  not  pity  thee !  " 

Rosalind  comes  forward,  and  addresses  the  pitiless  coquette :  — 

"  And  why,  I  pray  you?      W/io  might  he  your  mother. 
That  you  insult,  exult,  and  all  at  once, 
Over  the  wretched?  .  .  . 

But,  mistress,  know  yourself;  dow7i  on  your  knees. 
And  thank  Heaven,  fasting,  for  a  good  magi's  love  ! 
Cry  the  man  mercy ;  love  him  ;  take  his  offer : 
Foul  is  most  foul,  being  foul  to  be  a  scoffer." 

Never  did  silly  girl  get  better  schooling  than  that  —  and  from  a 
girl,  we  may  suppose,  no  older  than  herself,  though  immeasurably 
her  superior  both  in  heart  and  in  head. 

In  the  scene  (iv.  3)  where  Oliver  tells  how  his  brother  saved  his 
life,  there  is  a  delicate  but  most  significant  touch  on  which  I  believe 
no  editor  or  commentator  has  written  a  note.  When  Oliver  de- 
scribes the  man  (not  yet  explaining  that  he  was  the  man)  lying 
helpless  on  the  ground  with  the  lioness  ready  to  spring  upon  him 
when  he  should  stir,  he  is  interrupted  by  Celia  with  a  remark  about 
the  "  unnatural"  brother.     Then  Rosalind  speaks:  — 

"  But  to  Orlando  :  did  he  leave  him  there. 
Food  to  the  suck'd  and  hungry  lioness?  " 

Rosalind  is  as  unselfish,  as  magnanimous,  as  her  lover.  If  Orlando 
had  yielded  to  his  first  impulse  and  turned  away  from  the  brother 
who  had  wronged  him  so  unnaturally,  —  if  "  kindness  nobler  ever 


Appendix  257 

than  revenge,"  had  not  made  him  give  battle  to  the  lioness,  Rosa- 
lind could  never  have  forgiven  him.  She  would  rather  that  the 
wild  beast  had  torn  his  heart  out  than  to  know  that  heart  false  to 
fraternal  or  manly  impulses.  But  Orlando  was  worthy  of  her,  as 
she  of  him. 

Orlando.  —  Like  Rosalind,  Orlando  is  a  thoroughly  healthy 
nature.  I  know  no  better  word  to  describe  him  briefly.  Once 
for  a  moment,  when  the  sky  is  very  dark,  he  gives  way  to  de- 
spondency :  — 

"  But,  poor  old  man,  thou  prun'st  a  rotten  tree, 
That  cannot  so  much  as  a  blossom  yield 
In  lieu  of  all  thy  pains  and  husbandry ;  " 

but,  with  the  very  next  breath,  he  takes  heart  again :  — 

"  But  come  thy  ways ;  we  '11  go  along  together, 
And  ere  we  have  thy  youthful  wages  spent 
We  '11  light  upon  some  settled  low  content." 

He  has  tenfold  more  cause  to  be  melancholy  than  the  affected 
Jaques;  but  when  the  latter  asks,  "Will  you  sit  down  with  me, 
and  we  two  will  rail  against  our  mistress  the  world  and  all  our 
misery  ? "  note  his  reply,  "  I  will  chide  no  breather  in  the  world 
but  myself,  against  whom  I  know  most  faults."  No  wonder  that 
Jaques  slinks  away  after  a  few  brief  attempts  at  sneering  repartee. 

Touchstone.  —  Touchstone  is  one  of  the  best  of  Shakespeare's 
fools,  —  personally  as  well  as  professionally.  As  the  professional 
jester  he  is  not  inferior  to  any  of  the  others,  combining  much  of 
wisdom  with  his  wit, — ^  fool,  with  something  of  the  philosopher, 
to  quote  again  what  Hudson  has  said  of  him.  At  the  same  time 
he  has  personal  traits  that  we  must  respect  and  admire.  His  devo- 
tion to  his  mistress  shows  that  he  has  a  warm^h£^"t  under  his  suit 
of  motley.  Celia  knows  that  he  will  follow  her  wherever  she  may 
go,  even  into  her  voluntary  banishment  in  the  forest.  The  journey 
is  as  wearisome  to  him  as  to  her,  but  his  good-humour  does  not  fail 
with  fatigue;   he  is  the  same  merry  fellow  in  the  wood  that  he  was 

AS   YOU   LIKE   IT  —  1 7 


258  Appendix 


in  the  court,  though  we  may  be  sure  that  his  disparagement  of  the 
shepherd's  Hfe,  in  his  talk  with  Corin,  is  more  jjjicere  thaii  his 
praise  of  it.     He  finds  it,  we  cannot  doubt,  "  a  very  vile  life."     It 
may  please  him  well  in  a  way  because  it  is  "  in  the  fields,"  but  be- 
cause it  is  not  in  the  court  "  it  is  tedious,"  and  it  goes  much  against 
his  stomach.     But  he  bears  up  bravely  under  its  loneliness  and  pri- 
vations for  the  sake  of  his  young  mistress.     It  may  be  a  question 
whether  he  would  have  fallen  in  love  with  Audrey  under  other  cir- 
cumstances;  but  I  am  confident  that  he  had  an  honest  affection 
..  for  her,  though  some  of  the  critics  take  seriously  his'preference  for 
I  the  hedge-priest,  Sir  Oliver  Martext,  on  the  ground  that,  if  not 
I  married  in  due  form,  it  would  be  a  good  excuse  for  leaving  his  wife 
I  later.     It  is  probable  that  Shakespeare  put  that  into  his  mouth  for 
jocose  effect  in  the  theatre  rather  than  as  the  fool's  sober  thought. 
At  any  rate,  it  is  the  only  suggestion  in  the  play,  except  the  fling 
from  Jaques  to  which  I  have  already  alluded,  that  Touchstone  was 
not  true  lover  of  the  "poor  thing  but  his  own,"  whom  he  had  found 
in  the  forest,  and  whom  he  made  his  wife  at  the  close  of  the  pastoral 
comedy. 

Two  eminent  critics,  Dr.  Furness  and  Mr.  Aldis  Wright,  believe 
that  the  delineation  of  Touchstone  is  inconsistent.  The  former 
says,  in  his  "  New  Variorum  "  edition  of  the  play :  — 

"The  trivial  blemishes  in  As  You  Like  It  which  have  been 
ascribed  with  probability,  by  Wright  and  others,  to  haste  on  Shake- 
speare's part,  may  be  attributed,  it  seems  to  me,  quite  as  plausibly 
to  the  outcroppings  of  the  original  play  which  Shakespeare  re- 
modelled, and  their  presence  would  still  be  due,  more  or  less,  to 
haste.  Among  these,  there  is  one,  however,  for  which,  I  think, 
haste  is  hardly  a  sufficient  explanation,  and  this  is  the  character 
of  Touchstone.  If  there  is  one  quality  in  which  Shakespeare  is 
forever  Shakespeare,  it  is  in  the  unity  of  his  characters,  in  their 
thorough  individuality,  in  their  absolute  truth  to  themselves.  A 
hundred,  and  fifty  years  ago  Pope  said  that  to  prefix  names  to 
the  speeches  in  Shakespeare's  plays  was  almost  superfluous;   the 


Appendix  259 

speeches  themselves  unerringly  proclaimed  the  speakers.  We  also 
know  that  either  before  the  entrance  of  an  important  character,  or 
very  soon  after,  Shakespeare  is  wont  to  give  either  a  prelude  or  a 
keynote,  as  it  were,  of  that  character,  and  with  this  keynote  we 
all  know  how  absolutely  every  subsequent  trait  or  utterance  is  in 
harmony.  If,  then,  this  test  be  applied  to  Touchstone  (or,  why 
not  say,  this  touchstone  to  Touchstone),  will  his  character  from 
first  to  last  stand  it  ?  Is  the  '  clownish  fool '  and  the  '  roynish 
clown  '  of  the  first  act,  with  his  bald  jests  of  knights  and  pancakes, 
the  Touchstone  of  the  fifth  act,  who  had  trod  a  measure,  flattered 
a  lady,  been  politic  with  his  friend  and  smooth  with  his  enemy?  Is 
the  simpleton  of  the  first  act,  '  Nature's  natural,'  as  he  is  in  truth, 
the  same  with  the  Touchstone  who  can  cite  Ovid  and  quarrel  in 
print,  by  the  book?  Are  there  not  here  two  separate  characters? 
These  two  clowns  cannot  be  one  and  the  same.  The  true  Touch- 
stone we  meet  first  in  the  Forest  of  Arden,  and  although  when 
Jaques  speaks  of  him  we  have  already  seen  and  heard  him,  yet  it 
is  Jaques  who  gives  us  the  keynote  of  his  character;  and  in  the 
Touchstone  of  the  last  act  we  recognize  our  old  acquaintance,  who 
solemnly  pondered  that  '  from  hour  to  hour  we  ripe  and  ripe,  and 
then  from  hour  to  hour  we  rot  and  rot,  and  thereby  hangs  a  tale.' 
"  However  rapid  may  have  been  Shakespeare's  composition,  I 
cannot  suppose  —  it  is  to  me  unthinkable  —  that  from  the  first 
instant  each  character  was  not  present  before  him  in  perfect  sym- 
metry and  absolute  completeness.  For  any  discrepancy,  therefore, 
any  distortion  in  the  character  of  Touchstone,  haste  in  composi- 
tion is  hardly,  I  think,  an  adequate  explanation,  and  I  humbly 
suggest  one  of  two  courses  as  a  possible  solution :  First,  either  we 
have,  in  the  clown  of  the  second  scene  of  the  play,  the  genuine 
roynish  fool  of  the  original  old  play  which  Shakespeare  rewrote, 
and  who  here  crops  out,  perhaps  through  an  oversight  (here,  at 
least,  due  to  haste)  or  perhaps  purposely  retained  to  please  the 
groundlings;  or  else,  secondly,  that  the  clown  who  cracks  his 
joke  about  beards  and  mustard  was  not  Touchstone,  but  a  separate 


26o  Appendix 

and  very  different  character,  who  should  never  have  been  called 
Touchstone.  Theobald,  be  it  observed,  was  the  first  (and  this, 
too,  not  till  his  second  edition)  to  call  this  clOwn  Touchstone. 
He  is  our  sole  authority  for  it.  This  clown  Rosalind  threatens 
with  the  whip  —  would  she  ever  have  thus  menaced  Touchstone  P^ 

"  Although  this  latter  suggestion  will  relieve  Touchstone's  char- 
acter from  inconsistency,  —  an  inconsistency  which  all  must  have 
felt,  and  to  which  Wright  expressly  calls  attention, — yet  the  other 
trifling  blemishes  remain,  such  as  styling  RosaHnd  at  one  time  the 
'shorter,'  and  at  another  time  the  'taller,'  or  speaking  of  'Juno's 
swans,'  etc.  For  these,  I  think,  we  must  fall  back  on  the  explana- 
tion that  they  are  the  survivals  of  the  older  play.  Theobald's 
error  in  nomenclature  (that  is,  in  calling  the  clown  of  the  second 
scene  Touchstone)  may  account  for  the  most  serious  of  all;  but 
for  the  others,  I  think,  we  can  account  by  supposing  that  there 
was  an  older  drama,  which  was  intermediate  between  our  As  You, 
Like  It  and  Lodge's  novel." 

I  quote  this  in  full  because  I  wish  to  place  the  theory  M-hich  I 
shall  venture  to  combat,  with  all  due  deference  to  the  high  author- 
ities who  have  propounded  it,  fairly  before  the  reader.  For  myself, 
I  have  never  felt,  and,  after  careful  consideration  of  what  Dr. 
Furness  and  Mr.  Wright  (whom  I  do  not  quote,  as  he  is  sufficiently 
represented  by  his  brother  editor)  have  said,  cannot  now  see  the 

iThe  very  form  of  the  speech  shows  that  it  was  playful,  not  serious  : 
"You'll  be  whipt  for  taxation  oite  of  these  days."  This  explanation  is 
confirmed  by  the  fool's  reply  and  Celia's  comment :  — 

"  Touchstone.  The  more  pity,  that  fools  may  not  speak  wisely  what 
wise  men  do  foolishly. 

"  Celia.  By  my  troth,  thou  sayest  true;  for  since  the  Httle  wit  that 
fools  have  was  silenced,  the  little  foolery  that  wise  men  have  makes  a 
great  show." 

In  Lear  (ii.  4.  123) ,  where  the  provocation  is  greater,  and  the  King 
says  to  the  Fool,  "Take  heed,  sirrah;  the  whip,"  it  is  perhaps  a  more 
serious  admonition. 


Appendix  261 

inconsistency  in  Touchstone's  character  which  they  think  they  have 
detected.  If  the  earlier  critics  who  have  commented  on  the  char- 
acter felt  this  inconsistency,  as  we  are  told  that  they  "  must  "  have 
done,  it  is  very  strange  that  they  did  not  refer  to  it. 

That  Shakespeare's  characters  were  from  the  start  "present 
before  him  in  perfect  symmetry  and  absolute  completeness"  is 
indisputably  true.  They  are  always  consistent  with  themselves. 
If  they  sometimes  appear  inconsistent,  —  like  Brutus  in  Julius 
Cmar,  for  instance,  —  the  inconsistency,  though  it  has  sometimes 
perplexed  the  critics,  is  an  element  in  the  character  and  can  be 
easily  shown  to  be  such.  Shakespeare  knew,  as  we  all  do,  that 
people  are  sometimes  inconsistent,  and  that  no  principle  of  dramatic 
art  forbade  that  he  should  represent  them  so  in  his  plays  if  it  suited 
his  purposes.  Shakespeare's  characters,  moreover,  are  real  men 
and  women,  with  the  little  imperfections  of  our  poor  human  nature. 
Great  wits,  like  Homer,  sometimes  nod;  they  do  not  always  keep 
up  to  their  high-water  mark.  They  do  not  always  try  to  do  it; 
they  could  not  do  it  if  they  tried.  The  after-dinner  jokes  of  a 
Depew  are  sometimes  rather  poor  and  thin,  though  his  reputation 
as  a  wit  may  prevent  its  being  detected,  at  least  at  the  dinner. 
Many  a  joke  that  sets  the  table  in  a  roar  may  not  provoke  a  smile 
when  read  in  the  newspaper  report  of  the  banquet.  Just  so  do 
some  of  the  witticisms  of  Shakespeare's  fools  suffer  when  scrutinized 
in  cold  print  through  critical  spectacles.  They  were  written  for 
the  theatre,  where  only  the  professional  dramatic  critic  is  hyper- 
critical. 

We  should  also  remember  that  the  impromptu  joke  is  not  to  be 
judged  by  the  same  standard  as  the  joke  prepense  and  elaborated. 
The  fool,  moreover,  as  Shakespeare  himself  says  (  Twelfth  Night, 
iii.  I.  70),  must  be  discriminating  in  the  exercise  of  his  wit:  — 

"  He  must  observe  their  mood  on  whom  he  jests, 
The  quality  of  persons,  and  the  time, 
Not,  like  the  haggard,  check  at  every  feather 
That  comes  before  his  eye.    This  is  a  practice 


262  Appendix 

As  full  of  labour  as  a  wise  man's  art ; 
For  folly,  that  he  wisely  shows,  is  fit, 
But  wise  men,  folly-fallen,  quite  taint  their  wit." 

Let  us  examine  Touchstone's  talk  in  the  earlier  and  other  parts 
of  the  play,  and  see  if  there  are  really  "  two  of  him,"  as  Furness 
and  Wright  assume.  In  the  second  scene  of  the  play  he  enters 
for  the  first  time,  with  a  message  to  Celia  from  her  father,  which 
he  duly  delivers,  swearing  by  his  "  honour  "  that  he  was  bid  to  do 
it.  The  dialogue  goes  on  with  the  nonsense  about  the  knight  and 
his  oath  concerning  the  mustard  and  the  pancakes.  The  girls  are 
inclined  to  quiz  the  fool,  referring  with  sportive  irony  to  the  great 
heap  of  his  knowledge  and  challenging  him  to  unmuzzle  his  wisdom. 
He  does  not  consider  them  antagonists  worthy  of  his  mettle,  and 
will  not  waste  the  whole  treasure  of  his  wit  upon  them.  The 
impromptu  jesting  about  the  knight  and  the  pancakes  is  sufficient 
for  "  the  quality  of  the  persons  and  the  time."  It  was,  moreover, 
suited  to  the  taste  of  the  theatre-goers  of  the  day  and  very  likely 
"brought  down  the  house."  It  was  in  the  same  vein  as  some  of 
the  joking  of  Feste  in  Twelfth  Night,  the  consistency  of  whose 
character  has  never  been  impugned;  as,  for  instance,  when  that 
admirable  fool,  talking  with  Viola  at  the  opening  of  act  iii.,  puns 
upon  living  by  his  tabor  and  living  "  by  the  church,"  —  an  im- 
promptu quibble  which  Viola  finds  good  enough  to  enlarge  upon : 
"  So  thou  mayst  say,  the  king  lies  by  a  beggar  if  a  beggar  dwell 
near  him;  or,  the  church  stands  by  the  tabor  if  thy  tabor  stands 
by  the  church." 

But  in  this  very  scene  we  find  the  "  clownish  fool "  to  be  the 
same  sly  and  keen  satirist  that  Touchstone  shows  himself  later,  and, 
indeed,  throughout  the  play.  When  Le  Beau  describes  with  so 
much  gusto  the  wrestling  in  which  the  "  three  proper  young  men 
of  excellent  growth  and  presence  "  have  had  their  ribs  broken  by 
Charles,  and  "  there  is  little  hope  of  life "  in  them,  note  what 
follows :  — 


Appendix  263 

"  Touchstone.  But  what  is  this  sport,  monsieur,  that  the  ladies  have 
lost? 

"  Le  Beau.    Why,  this  that  I  speak  of. 

"  Touchstone.  Thus  men  may  grow  wiser  every  day !  It  is  the  first 
time  that  ever  1  heard  breaking  of  ribs  was  sport  for  ladies. 

"  Celia.     Or  I,  I  promise  thee. 

"  Rosalind.  But  is  there  any  else  longs  to  see  this  broken  music  in 
his  sides  ?  is  there  yet  another  dotes  upon  rib-breaking  ?  " 

Is  this  a  mere  "roynish  clown,"  or  is  it  very  Touchstone?  Have 
we  not  here  the  same  acute  perception  of  the  faults  and  follies  of 
mankind  as  in  his  satirical  description  of  the  courtier  who  has  un- 
done three  tailors  and  had  four  quarrels,  and  who  knows  all  the 
rules  of  duelling  by  the  book?  I  suspect  that  we  are  not  to  take 
JTouchstone  seriously  when  he  says  he  has  been  a  courtier.  He 
assumes  the  character  for  the  sake  of  satirizing  it.  Feste  does  not 
pretend  to  have  beeii  a  courtier,  but  he  is  as  familiar  with  Pythag- 
oras as  Touchstone  is  with  Ovid,  and  can  quote  Latin  freely  when 
playing  the  part  of  Sir  Topas,  the  priest.  The  Court  Fool,  being 
no  fool,  readily  picked  up  enough  of  such  knowledge  for  his  purposes 
from  the  fools  of  higher  rank  about  him. 

It  will  be  observed  that  Celia  and  Rosalind  appreciated  and  indi- 
rectly commended  Touchstone's  hit  at  the  brutality  of  the  "  sport  " 
in  which  Le  Beau  takes  such  delight,  —  the  "  good  wrestling " 
which  the  ladies  have  unluckily  "  lost  sight  of,"  but  of  which  "  the 
best  is  yet  to  do  "  and  may  be  witnessed  by  them  if  they  choose. 
It  is  Shakespeare  himself  who  is  the  satirist  here,  making  the  fool 
his  mouthpiece.  In  calling  Touchstone  "the  clownish  fool,"  no 
disparagement  is  intended.  It  is  Rosalind  who  calls  him  so,  and 
we  have  seen  what  both  she  and  Celia  think  of  him.  In  the  very 
next  speech  Celia  pays  a  marked  tribute  to  the  unselfish  devotion 
to  her  interests  which  will  make  him  willing  to  "  go  along  o'er  the 
wide  world  "  with  her.  This  speech  proves  that  the  fool  of  act  i. 
is  the  Touchstone  of  the  rest  of  the  play,  not  an  inferior  clown 
whom  Theobald  misnamed. 


264  Appendix 

When  Jaques  first  met  Touchstone  in  the  forest,  he  evidently 
took  him  to  be  "  an  ordinary  fool  that  has  no  more  brains  than  a 
stone,"  and  Touchstone  humoured  the  mistake  for  the  time;  unless 
we  are  to  regard  Jaques's  description  of  the  interview  as  more  or 
less  fictitious,  and  mainly  intended  for  the  amusement  of  the  Duke 
and  his  companions.  If  Touchstone  was  out  of  humour  and  railing 
at  Lady  Fortune,  he  may  have  drawn  the  dial  from  his  pocket  and 
commented  on  the  dull  lapse  of  time  from  hour  to  hour,  interspers- 
ing bits  of  moralizing  the  while;  but  very  likely  Jaques  had  him- 
self been  railing  at  Fortune  and  moralizing  in  his  usual  fashion, 
and  Touchstone  was  only  burlesquing  him,  though  Jaques  does 
not  see  it.  That  would  be  quite  like  the  fool,  who  was  given  to 
burlesque  and  parody  in  his  good-natured  satire. 

It  will  be  noticed  that  in  this  first  reference  which  Jaques  makes 
to  Touchstone  he  has  no  word  of  praise  for  the  fool.  He  is  merely 
amused  by  what  seem  to  him  blundering  attempts  to  be  witty  and 
wise.  But  later,  when  he  overhears  Touchstone  talking  with  Audrey 
(iii.  3),  he  says,  aside,  "  A  material  fool !  "  —  that  is,  one  with  good 
matter  in  him;  and  he  "would  fain  see  the  meeting"  of  the  pair 
with  Sir  Oliver  Martext.  On  that  occasion  he  shows  a  genuine 
friendly  feeling  for  the  fool,  advising  him  to  go  to  church  "and 
have  a  good  priest "  that  can  tell  him  "  what  marriage  is."  Jaques 
must  have  had  other  interviews  with  Touchstone  that  are  not 
reported  in  the  play,  for  when  the  fool  enters  in  the  closing  scene 
Jaques  says  to  the  Duke  :  "  Good  my  lord,  bid  him  welcome.  This 
is  the  motley-minded  gentleman  that  I  have  so  often  met  in  the 
forest."  A  moment  later,  when  Touchstone  refers  to  the  quarrel 
that  he  was  "  like  to  have  fought,"  Jaques  draws  him  out  for  the 
entertainment  of  the  Duke :  — 

"  Jaques.    And  how  was  that  ta'en  up  ? 

"  Touchstone.  Faith,  we  met,  and  found  the  quarrel  was  upon  the 
seventh  cause. 

"  Jaques.     How  seventh  cause  ? —  Good  my  lord,  like  this  fellow. 
"  Duke  Senior.    I  like  him  very  well. 


Appendix  265 

"  Touchstone.  God  'ield  you,  sir;  I  desire  you  of  the  like.  I  press 
in  here,  sir,  amongst  the  rest  of  the  country  copulatives,  to  swear  and 
forswear,  according  as  marriage  binds  and  blood  breaks.  A  poor  vir- 
gin, sir,  an  ill-favoured  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  Senior.    By  my  faith,  he  is  very  swift  and  sententious." 

Jaques  brings  Touchstone  back  to  the  subject  of  the  quarrel: 
"But  for  the  seventh  cause;  how  did  you  find  the  quarrel  on  the 
seventh  cause  ?  "  —  and  again,  after  the  long  speech  in  which  the 
fool  explains  the  seven  degrees  of  the  lie,  Jaques  leads  him  on  by 
asking,  "And  how  oft  did  you  say  his  beard  is  not  well  cut?" 
Touchstone  replies  that  he  "  durst  go  no  further  than  the  Lie  Cir- 
cumstantial," and  so  the  affair  ended.  Jaques  then  asks,  "Can 
you  nominate  in  order  now  the  degrees  of  the  lie?  "  It  may  be  a 
question  whether  he  does  this  for  the  pleasure  of  hearing  the  list 
repeated  or  because  he  suspects  that  Touchstone's  numeration  of 
the  lies  was  an  impromptu  invention,  and  wishes  to  test  him  on  that 
point.  I  am  inclined  to  think  (as  I  have  said  in  the  note  on  the 
passage)  that  the  latter  is  the  true  explanation;  and  Touchstone's 
reply  seems  to  favour  it :  "  O  sir,  we  quarrel  in  print,  by  the  book, 
as  you  have  books  for  good  manners.  I  will  name  you  the  degrees," 
intimating  that  of  course  he  can  do  it,  as  he  speaks  "  by  the  book." 
After  he  has  proved  that  he  can  do  it,  and  has  added  his  shrewd 
comments  on  "  your  '  If  "  as  "  the  only  peacemaker,"  Jaques  again 
appeals  to  the  Duke  :  — 

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

''Duke  Senior.  He  uses  his  folly  like  a  stalking-horse,  and  under 
the  presentation  of  that  he  shoots  his  wit." 

The  Duke  spoke  for  Shakespeare,  whose  purpose  in  the  delinea- 
tion of  the  fool  was  precisely  that;  and  it  describes  the  Touchstone 
of  the  first  scene  in  which  he  appears,  with  his  hit  at  breaking  of 
bones  as  sport  for  ladies,  no  less  than  the  Touchstone  of  this  last 


266  Appendix 

scene,  with  his  admirable  satirizing  of  the  laws  of  the  duello,  than 
which  Mercutio's  was  no  keener  or  brighter.  The  reacier  will  recall 
the  description  of  Tybalt  {Romeo  and  Juliet,  ii.  4.  20  fol.)  :  — 

"  O,  he  is  the  courageous  captain  of  compliments !  He  fights  as  you 
sing  pricksong,  keeps  time,  distance,  and  proportion;  rests  me  his 
minim  rest,  one,  two,  and  the  third  in  your  bosom ;  the  very  butcher 
of  a  silk  button,  a  duellist,  a  duellist,  a  gentleman  of  the  very  first  house, 
of  the  first  and  second  cause.  Ah,  the  immortal  passado !  the  punto 
reverso !  the  hay !  " 

And  again  (iii.  i.  106)  Mercutio  calls  him  "a  villain,  that  fights  by 
the  book  of  arithmetic." 

Henry  Giles,  in  his  Human  Life  in  Shakespeare,  calls  Touch- 
stone "  the  Hamlet  of  motley."  He  adds :  "  He  is  bitter,  but  there 
is  often  to  me  something  like  sadness  in  his  jests.  He  mocks,  but 
in  his  mockery  we  seem  to  hear  echoes  from  a  solitary  heart.  He  is 
reflective;  and  melancholy,  wisdom,  and  matter  aforethought  are 
in  his  quaintness.  He  is  a  thinker  out  of  place,  a  philosopher  in 
mistaken  vesture,  a  genius  by  nature,  an  outcast  by  destiny."  If 
this  takes  the  fool  too  seriously  in  some  respects,  it  does  no  more 
than  justice  to  his  wit,  his  wisdom,  and  his  philosophy. 


The  "Moral"  of  the  Play 

What  is  the  moral  —  or  the  "  fundamental  idea,"  as  the  Germans 
like  to  call  it  —  of  the  play?  Two  critics,  one  a  man,  the  other  a 
woman,  agree  well  in  stating  it.  Mr.  Neil,  in  his  introduction  to 
the  play,  says :  — 

"  When  we  read  this  drama  we  see  that  it  recognizes-^g^pas  the 
pivot  and  centre  of  activity  and  joy  —  the  very  core  of  life.  .  .  » 
When  we  observe  that  all  the  evils  in  the  play  originate  in  the  neg- 
lect of  the  royal  law  of  life,  'Thou  shalt  love  thy  neighbour  as  thy- 
self;' how  selfishness  complicates  and  love  explicates  the  plot  — 


Appendix  267 

may  it  not  be  that  As  You  Like  It  is  a,  divine  morality  as  well  as  a 
charming  play?  " 

And  Lady  Martin  (Helena  Faucit),  who  had  personated  the  hero- 
ine of  the  play  in  a  manner  to  charm  all  who  were  so  fortunate  as 
to  see  her  on  the  stage,  remarks :  — 

"  To  me  As  You  Like  It  seems  to  be  as  much  a  love-poem  as 
Romeo  and  Juliet,  with  this  difference,  —  that  it  deals  with  happy 
love,  while  the  Veronese  story  deals  with  love  crossed  by  misad- 
venture and  crowned  with  death.  It  is  as  full  of  imagination,  of 
the  glad  rapture  of  the  tender  passion,  of  its  impulsiveness,  its  gen- 
erosity, its  pathos.  No  '  hearse-like  airs,'  indeed,  come  wailing  by, 
as  in  the  tale  of  those  '  star-crossed  lovers,'  to  warn  us  of  their  too 
early  *  overthrow.'  All  is  blended  into  a  rich,  harmonious  music 
which  makes  the  heart  throb,  but  never  makes  it  ache.  Still  the 
love  is  not  less  deep,  less  capable  of  proving  itself  strong  as  death; 
neither  are  the  natures  of  Orlando  and  Rosalind  less  touched  to  all 
the  fine  issues  of  that  passion  than  those  of  '  Juliet  and  her  Romeo.' 
Is  not  love,  indeed,  —  love,  too,  at  first  sight,  —  the  pivot  on  which 
the  action  of  the  play  turns?  Does  it  not  seem  that  the  text  the 
poet  meant  to  illustrate  was  that  which  he  puts  into  Phebe's  mouth, 
'  Who  ever  loved  that  loved  not  at  first  sight? '  " 

As  another  critic  (Professor  Henry  Morley)  has  said,  "  In  As 
You  Like  It  there  are  two  discords;  each  is  between  brother  and 
brother,  each  is  at  the  outset  fierce :  they  are  set  in  a  play  filled 
with  the  harmonies  of  life,  and  are  themselves  reduced  to  music  at 
the  close." 

It  is  the  same  critic  who  dwells  upon  the  thought  that  Shake- 
speare's works  are  "  a  Lay  Bible,"  and  that  this  play,  like  others, 
proves  that  they  are  not  so  by  chance,  but  of  set  purpose.  As  he 
well  says :  "  Shakespeare  never  allows  good  to  be  overcome  with 
evil;  he  invariably  shows  evil  overcome  with  good,  the  discords  of 
life  healed  only  by  man's  love  to  God  and  to  his  neighbour.  Love 
God;  love  your  Neighbour  :  Do  your  Work,  making  the  active  busi- 
ness of  life  subject  to  the  commandments  upon  which  hang  all  the 


268  Appendix 

law  and  the  prophets  —  Shakespeare's  works  contain  no  lessons  that 
are  not  subordinate  to  these.  Of  dogmatism  he  is  free,  of  the  true 
spirit  of  religion  he  is  full;  and  it  is  for  this  reason  that  his  works 
are  a  Lay  Bible." 


Blue  Eyes  and  Other  in  Shakespeare 

[I  wrote  this  familiar  paper  simply  as  an  illustration  of  an  exer- 
cise that  I  have  sometimes  given  my  classes.  It  may  be  sugges- 
tive to  teachers  and  managers  of  Shakespeare  clubs;  and  possibly 
also  to  the  private  student,  if  he  enjoys  the  "comparative  study" 
of  the  plays. 

Several  years  ago,  when  I  was  reading  this  play  with  a  class  in  a 
female  seminary,  the  reference  to  a  "  blue  eye "  (iii.  2.  368)  sug- 
gested the  question,  "  What  colour  in  a  lady's  eyes  did  Shake- 
speare like  best  ?  "  I  asked  the  girls  to  hunt  up,  with  the  aid  of 
the  Concordances,  all  the  allusions  to  black,  blue,  grey,  green,  and 
other  coloured  eyes  in  the  plays  and  poems,  and  to  discuss  them  in 
an  informal  **  composition."  They  found  it  an  interesting  exer- 
cise, and  later  we  spent  an  hour  in  considering  certain  questions 
suggested  by  the  passages  cited  in  the  papers.  Other  questions 
suitable  for  such  "  side  studies  "  in  Shakespeare  will  readily  occur 
to  teachers  and  readers.] 

The  critics  have  had  some  trouble  with  the  colours  ascribed  to 
human  eyes  in  Shakespeare,  and  his  use  of  adjectives  of  colour  in 
this  connection  is  worthy  of  investigation.  His  only  distinct  refer- 
ences to  dlue  eyes  are  in  T/ie  Tempest  (i.  2.  269)  where  he  calls  the 
mother  of  Caliban  a  "blue-eyed  hag,"  and  in  the  present  play  (iii. 
2.  368)  where  "  a  blue  eye  and  sunken  "  is  mentioned  as  one  of  the 
marks  of  a  lover.  In  both  instances  the  allusion  is  undoubtedly  to 
a  blue  circle  about  the  eyes,  and  not  to  the  colour  of  the  eyes  them- 
selves; though  the  passage  in  The  Tempest  has  been  quoted  by 
some  critics  as  evidence  that  blue  eyes  were  reckoned  ugly  in  that 


Appendix  269 

day,  while  others  have  wanted  to  change  "  blue-eyed  "  to  "  blear- 
eyed." 
Compare  Lucrece,  1587:  — 

"And  round  about  her  tear-distained  eye 
Blue  circles  stream'd,  like  rainbows  in  the  sky." 

In  The  Winter's  Tale  (i.  2.  136)  we  have  a  "welkin  eye" 
assigned  to  the  boy  Mamillius,  and  some  commentators  understand 
it  to  mean  blue  eye,  but  it  is  more  probably  equivalent  to  heavenly 
eye  ("  mit  deinem  Himmelsauge,  that  is,  pure  and  innocent  like 
heaven"),  as  Schmidt  explains  it. 

In  Beaumont  and  Fletcher's  Honest  Man^s  Fortune,  we  find 
"  blue  eye "  used  as  equivalent  to  the  pugilistic  black  eye :  "  or 
bring  in  rotten  pippins  to  cure  blue  eyes,  and  swear  they  come 
from  China  ;  "  where  the  decayed  apple  is  evidently  to  be  used  as 
a  poultice  for  the  damaged  organ. 

In  several  passages  grey  eyes  are  mentioned,  both  literally  and 
figuratively;  and  some  critics  insist  that  by  grey  \hQ.  poet  means 
blue.  In  Romeo  and  Juliet  (ii.  3.  i)  we  have  "the  grey-eyed 
morn;  "  and  again  (iii.  5.  19)  "yon  grey  is  not  the  morning's  eye." 
In  the  same  play  (ii.  4.  45)  the  "  grey  eye  "  of  Thisbe  is  alluded 
to.  In  the  Tzvo  Gentle?nen  of  Verona  (iv.  4.  197)  it  is  said  that 
"  Her  eyes  are  grey  as  glass  ;  "  in  Twelfth  Night  (i.  5.  266)  Olivia 
includes  "  two  grey  eyes  "  in  the  inventory  of  her  personal  appear- 
ance; and  Venus,  in  Venus  and  Adonis  (140),  says,  "Mine  eyes 
are  grey  and  bright."  In  all  these  passages  Dyce,  Delius,  and 
others  define  grey  as  bhie ;  but  I  cannot  imagine  why  the  poet 
should  not  say  bhce  if  he  meant  blue,  when  the  word  would  fit  the 
measure  as  well  as  grey.  I  am  gratified  to  find  that  so  good  a 
critic  of  colour  as  Mr.  Ruskin  assumes  that  grey,  in  the  references 
to  the  grey  eyes  of  the  morning,  is  used  in  its  literal  sense  and 
with  peculiar  appropriateness.  In  a  paper  read  at  a  meeting  of  the 
New  Shakspere  Society  in  London,  October  ii,  1878,  on  the 
passage  va.  Julius  Ccesar  (ii.  I.  103,  104)  :  — 


270  Appendix 

"yon  grey  lines 
That  fret  the  clouds  are  messengers  of  day  "  — 

he  expresses  this  opinion;  and  in  the  discussion  that  followed,  the 
passage  in  Romeo  and  Juliet  was  referred  to  by  several  gentlemen 
as  a  parallel  one,  and  the  truth  to  nature  in  both  was  unanimously 
indorsed. 1 

Other  passages  in  which  grey  is  supposed  to  mean  blue  are 
Sonnet  132.  6:  — 

"  And  truly  not  the  morning  sun  of  heaven 
Better  becomes  the  grey  cheeks  of  the  east, 
Nor  that  full  star  that  ushers  in  the  even 
Doth  half  that  glory  to  the  sober  west, 
•  As  those  two  mourning  eyes  become  thy  face ;  " 

and  2  Henry  IV.  ii.  3.  19 :  — 

"  For  his  [honour],  it  stuck  upon  him  as  the  sun 
In  the  grey  vault  of  heaven,  and  by  his  light 
Did  all  the  chivalry  of  England  move 
To  do  brave  acts." 

I  suspect  it  was  these  passages  that  first  suggested  the  defining 
oi  grey  as  blue.  In  both  the  sky  is  evidently  clear,  and  the  critic 
assumes  that  it  must  therefore  be  blue;  but  in  both  we  have  the 
antithesis  between  the  sun  and  the  sky  that  would  be  grey  without 
it,  or  seems  grey  in  the  immediate  vicinity  of  the  sun  by  contrast 
to  his  radiance.  This  view,  it  seems  to  me,  is  confirmed  in  the 
sonnet  by  the  following  illustration  of  the  glorious  evening  star  in 
the  sober  west.  Even  if  we  interpreted  grey  in  these  two  passages 
as  blue,  it  does  not  follow  that  we  should  do  so  in  others  where  the 
literal  sense  is  natural  and  appropriate.     Dyce  himself  does  not 

^  Since  this  was  written  I  see  that  the  Nezv  English  Dictionary 
(Oxford),  in  the  two  quarto  pages  that  it  gives  to  the  word  grey,  does 
not  so  much  as  refer  to  the  theory  that  it  sometimes  means  blue.  This 
dictionary,  by  the  way,  prefers  the  spelling  grey. 


Appendix  271 

include  \h.t  Julius  CcEsar  passage,  nor  the  second  one  from  Romeo 
and  Juliet  (iii.  5.  19)  under  his  "  gj-ay  =  blue,  azure;  "  but  in  the 
first  from  Romeo  and  Juliet  (ii.  3.  i),  there  are  clouds  in  the  east, 
as  in  the  second,  and  the  sun  has  not  yet  risen :  — 

"  The  grey-eyed  morn  smiles  on  the  frowning  night, 
Chequering  the  eastern  clouds  with  streaks  of  light, 
And  flecked  darkness  like  a  drunkard  reels 
From  forth  day's  path  and  Titan's  fiery  wheels. 
Now,  ere  the  sun  advance  his  burning  eye,"  etc. 

I  omitted  above  the  passage  in  Titus  Andronictis  (ii.  2.  i),  "The 

hunt  is  up,  the  morn  is  bright  and  grey,"  because  it  is  probably  not 

Shakespeare's  ;    but    there    is    no    necessary  contradiction   in   the 

"bright    and  grey"   any   more    than    in   the     Venus   and  Adonis 

quotation. 

There  are  two  references  to  green  eyes  in  Shakespeare,  besides 

the  "green-eyed  jealousy"  of  the  Merchant  oj  Venice  (iii.  2.  iio) 

and  Othello  (m.  3.   166).     In  Ro?7ieo   and  Juliet  (iii.   5.  221)   the 

Nurse  says :  — 

"  An  eagle,  madam, 

Hath  not  so  green,  so  quick,  so  fair  an  eye 

As  Paris  hath  " 

(where  Hanmer  and  others  have  changed  "  green  "  to  "  keen  ") ; 
and  in  the  Midsummer  Nighfs  Dream  (v.  I.  342)  Thisbe  says  of 
Pyramus  that  "  His  eyes  were  green  as  leeks."  However  we  may 
regard  these  compliments  to  green  eyes,  on  account  of  the  char- 
acters in  whose  mouths  they  are  put,  it  is  certain  that  such  eyes 
have  often  been  represented  by  the  poets  as  beautiful.  In  The 
Tiuo  N'oble  Kinsme7t,  which  is  included  in  several  editions  of 
Shakespeare  (mine  among  them,  though  I  do  not  now  believe  that 
he  had  a  hand  in  it)  as  partly  his,  Emilia,  in  her  apostrophe  to 
Diana  (v.  I.  144),  ascribes  to  the  goddess  a  "rare  green  eye."  In 
a  sonnet  by  Drummond  of  Ha^wthornden,  the  gods  are  represented 
as  debating  of  what  colour  a  beauty's  eyes  shall  be.  Mars  and 
Apollo  vote  for  black :  — 


272  Appendix 

"  Chaste  Phoebe  spake  for  purest  azure  dyes, 
But  Jove  and  Venus  green  about  the  Hght, 
To  frame  thought  best,  as  bringing  most  deUght, 
That  to  pin'd  hearts  hope  might  for  aye  arise." 

Compare   Longfellow's    Spanish    Student:    "Ay,   soft    emerald 

eyes  !  "  and  again  :  — 

"  In  her  tender  eyes 

Just  that  soft  shade  of  green  we  sometimes  see 

In  evening  skies." 

In  a  note  on  the  former  passage,  the  poet  says :  "  The  Spaniards, 
with  good  reason,  consider  this  colour  of  the  eyes  as  beautiful,  and 
celebrate  it  in  song.  .  .  .  Dante  speaks  of  Beatrice's  eyes  as 
emeralds  (^Purgatorio,  xxxi.  116).  Lami  says  in  his  Annotazioni, 
'  Erano  i  suoi  occhi  d  'un  turchino  verdiccio,  simile  a  quel  del  mare.'  " 

The  references  to  black  eyes  (not  excepting  those  in  the  Sonnets 
to  the  "  dark  lady,"  to  which  I  can  make  only  this  passing  allusion) 
indicate  that  Shakespeare,  after  the  fashion  of  his  time,  regarded 
them  as  wanting  in  beauty.  In  Romeo  and  Juliet  (ii.  4.  14)  Mer- 
cutio  speaks  rather  contemptuously  of  being  "  stabbed  with  a  white 
wench's  black  eye."  In  the  present  play  (iii.  5.  47)  Rosalind,  in 
her  disparaging  comments  on  Phebe's  attractions,  mentions  her 
"  bugle  eyeballs  "  (like  beads  of  black  glass)  ;  and  Phebe,  recalling 
the  sneer  (129),  complains,  "  He  said  mine  eyes  were  black,"  etc. 
In  Lovers  Labour^ s  Lost  (iii.  i.   199)  Biron  describes  Rosalind  as 

"  A  wightly  wanton  with  a  velvet  brow, 
With  two  pitch-balls  stuck  in  her  face  for  eyes." 

On  the  whole,  grey  eyes  would  appear  to  have  been  the  favourite 
eyes  with  Shakespeare,  as  they  are  the  only  ones  he  specifically 
praises  ;  and  his  giving  them  to  Venus,  the  queen  of  love  and 
beauty,  is  no  less  significant. 

I  may  add  that  some  of  Shakespeare's  references  to  eyelids  have 
been  supposed  to  be  to  eyes,  and  others  have  been  the  subject 
of  controversy.     In  Venus  and  Adonis,  482,  we  read,  "  Her  two 


Appendix  273 

blue  windows  faintly  she  up-heaveth,"  and  Malone  cites  the  passage 
as  referring  to  blue  eyes;  but  the  windows  are  unquestionably  eye- 
lids, as  in  Cymbeline,  ii.  2.  22  (which  Malone  also  misinterprets)  :  — 

"  the  flame  o'  the  taper 
Bows  towards  her,  and  would  under-peep  her  lids, 
To  see  the  enclosed  lights,  now  canopied 
Under  these  windows,  white  and  azure,  lac'd 
With  blue  of  heaven's  own  tinct." 

The  eyelids  in  Venus  and  Adonis  are  called  blue  on  account  of 
their  "  blue  veins  "  {Lucrece,  440),  to  which  also  the  "white  and 
azure,"  etc.,  of  the  other  passage  refer,  the  sense  being  the  same 
whether  we  put  the  comma  before  white  or  omit  it,  as  some  editors 
do.  We  have  windows  for  eyelids  again  in  Ro7neo  and  Juliet^ 
iv.  I.  100:  "the  eyes'  windows  fall." 

I  believe  I  was  the  first  to  call  attention  to  the  light  thrown  by 
this  Cyinbeline  passage  on  the  much-controverted  description  of 
Perdita's  violets  in  the  Winter'' s  Tale,  iv.  4.  121 :  — 

"  violets  dim, 
But  sweeter  than  the  lids  of  Juno's  eyes 
Or  Cytherea's  breath." 

The  commentators  have  assumed  that  here  sweeter  must  mean 
"more  fragrant,"  on  account  of  the  "Cytherea's  breath''  that 
follows;  and  they  have  even  been  driven  to  supposing  that  the 
poet  alluded  to  the  Oriental  practice  of  giving  the  eyelids  "an 
obscure  violet  colour  by  means  of  some  unguent,  which  was  doubt- 
less perfumed,"  —  a  sort  of  painting  which  both  Perdita  and  he 
would  have  been  disgusted  at.  I  am  confident  that  sweeter  im- 
pHes  loveliness  as  well  as  perfume.  The  "blue-veined  violets" 
{Vejtus  and  Adonis,  125)  are  compared  to  the  blue-veined  eye- 
lids so  exquisitely  described  in  Cymbeline.  They  are  lovelier, 
Perdita  says,  than  the  lids  of  Juno's  eyes  and  more  fragrant  than 
Cytherea's  breath. 

Here,  as  in  so  many  other  instances,  Shakespeare  is  his   own 

AS  YOU   LIKE  IT — 1 8 


274  Appendix 

best  commentator;  and  I  may  add  that  Perdita's  use  of  sweeter  — 
the  combining  of  two  kinds  of  sweetness,  appealing  to  different 
senses,  sight  and  smell — is  precisely  like  the  Duke's  use  of  the 
same  adjective  in  the  opening  lines  of  Twelfth  Night,  which  have 
also  perplexed  the  critics :  — 

"  That  strain  again !  it  had  a  dying  fall : 
O,  it  came  o'er  my  ear  like  the  sweet  sound 
That  breathes  upon  a  bank  of  violets, 
Stealing  and  giving  odour !  " 

Here  the  effect  of  the  music  is  first  compared  to  the  sweet  murmur 
of  the  vernal  breeze,  and  this  comparison  is  emphasized  and  beauti- 
fied by  the  reference  to  the  odour  of  the  violets  over  which  the 
breeze  passes.  Perfume  is  added  to  music :  we  have  two  kinds  of 
sweetness,  appealing  to  two  senses  as  before  —  hearing  and  smell  — 
instead  of  sight  and  smell. 

There  is  yet  another  example  of  this  combination  in  Hamlet 
(iii.  I.  163),  in  that  most  pathetic  utterance  of  Ophelia:  — 

"And  I,  of  ladies  most  deject  and  wretched, 
That  suck'd  the  honey  of  his  music  vows,"  etc. 

A  "mixed  metaphor,"  say  the  critics  and  rhetoricians.  Rather, 
an  exquisite  blending  or  fusion  of  figures,  like  those  which  we  have 
been  noting;  and  again  the  combining  of  two  kinds  of  sweetness, 
appealing  to  different  senses,  —  taste  and  hearing  this  time. 

In  passages  like  these,  over  which  editors  and  commentators  have 
squabbled  with  no  other  result  than  obscuring  the  sense  and 
spoiling  the  poetry,  can  we  do  better  than  to  let  Shakespeare 
illustrate  and  interpret  himself  ? 


The  Time-Analysis  of  the  Play 

This  is  summed  up  by  Mr.  P.  A.   Daniel  (  Transactions  of  New 
Shakspere  Society,  1877-79,  p.  161)  as  follows:  — 


Appendix  275 

"  The  time  of  this  Play  may  be  taken  as  ten  days  represented  on 
the  stage,  with  such  sufficient  intervals  as  the  reader  may  imagine 
for  himself  as  requisite  for  the  probability  of  the  plot. 

1.  Act  I.  sc.  i. 

2.  Act  I.  sc.  ii.  and  iii.,  and  Act  II.  sc.  i,      [Act.  II.  sc.  iii.] 

An  interval  perhaps  might  be  expected  between  the  day  of 
RosaHnd's  banishment  and  the  day  (No.  3)  on  which  her  flight  is 
discovered.  The  Duke  allows  her  ten  days  for  preparation;  but 
she  and  her  companions  would  hardly  delay  so  long,  and  any 
delay  at  all  would  throw  the  scheme  of  time  utterly  out  of 
gear.  ...  I  believe  the  author  started  them  on  their  journey  on 
the  night  ensuing  the  banishment,  and  made  Days  i,  2,  and  3  con- 
secutive. In  Lodge's  Rosalynde,  it  may  be  observed,  the  Duke, 
who  banishes  his  daughter  as  well  as  his  niece,  bids  them  depart 
the  same  night. 

3.  Act  II.  sc.  ii.     [Act  III.  sc.  i.] 

An  interval  of  a  few  days.     The  journey  to  Arden. 

4.  Act  II.  sc.  iv. 

5.  Act  II.  sc.  v.,  vi.,  and  vii. 

All  interval  of  a  few  days  —  as  the  next  scene  shows. 

6.  Act  III.  sc.  ii. 

An  interval — indefinite.  During  this  interval  we  may 
imagine  the  inhabitants  of  the  forest  '  fleeting  the  time  carelessly, 
as  they  did  in  the  golden  world ' ;  the  Duke  and  his  fellows  hunt- 
ing, carousing,  and  disputing  with  the  melancholy  Jaques;  Orlando 
calling  every  day  at  the  sheepcote,  wooing  his  mistress  under  the 
disguise  of  Ganymede;  while  Touchstone  finds  out  and  courts 
Audrey, 

7.  Act  III.  sc.  iii. 

8.  Act   III.   sc.    iv.    and   v.,   Act  IV.   sc.    i.,  ii.,    and    iii.,    and 
Act.  V.  sc.  i. 


276  Appendix 

9.  Act  V.  sc.  ii.  and  iii. 

10.  Act.  V.  sc.  iv. 

Two  scenes  of  the  play  —  Act  II.  sc.  iii.  and  Act.  III.  sc.  i.  —  are 
placed,  within  brackets,  out  of  their  actual  order  in  this  table. 
The  first  must  be  referred  to  Day  No.  2,  the  second  to  Day  No.  3. 
Looking  to  the  time  of  the  scenes,  they  are  out  of  place;  the 
author  seems  to  have  gone  back  to  resume  these  threads  of  the 
story  which  were  dropped  while  other  parts  of  the  plot  were  in  hand. 
In  a  mere  narrative  this  is,  of  course,  a  common  practice;  I  am 
not  sure  that  I  know  of  any  other  instance  in  a  dramatic  compo- 
sition." 


List  of  Characters'  in  the  Play 

The  numbers  in  parentheses  indicate  the  lines  the  characters 
have  in  each  scene. 

Duke:  ii.  1(29),  7(51);  v.  4(31).     Whole  no.  iii. 

Frederick:  i.  2(21),  3(24);   ii.  2(8);   iii.  i(i6).     Whole  no.  69. 

Amiens:  ii.  1(3),  5(30),  7(20).     Whole  no.  53. 

Jaques:  ii.  5(35),  7(100);  iii.  2(24),  3(16);  iv.  i(i8),  2(8); 
V.  4(34).     Whole  no.  235. 

Le  Beau:  i.  2(53).     Whole  no.  53. 

Charles :  i.  1(40),  2(5).     Whole  no.  45. 

Oliver  :  i.  1(62);  iii.  1(2);  iv.  3(80);  v.  2(10).     Whole  no.  154. 

Jaques  de  Bois  :  v.  4(17).     Whole  no.  17. 

Orlando:  i.  1(68),  2(40);  ii.  3(23),  6(16),  7(32);  iii.  2(62); 
iv.  1(41);  V.  2(29),  4(11).     Whole  no.  322. 

Adam:  i.  1(7);   ii.  3(54),  6(3),  7(2).     Whole  no.  66. 

Dennis:  i.  1(3).     Whole  no.  3. 

Touchstone:  i.  2(30);  ii.  4(26);  iii.  2(70),  3(76);  v.  i(49)> 
3(11),  4(54)-     Whole  no.  316. 

Sir  Oliver  Martext :  iii.  3(5).     Whole  no.  5. 


Appendix  277 

Corin:  ii.  4(26);   iii.  2(37),  4(10);  v,  1(2),     Whole  no.  75. 

Silvius:  11.4(19);  111.5(29);  Iv.  3(14);  v.  2(13), 4(1).  Whole 
no.  76. 

William:  v.  i(ii).     Whole  no.  ii. 

Hyjnen :  v.  4(24) .     Whole  no.  24. 

\st  Lord  i^Duke)  :  11.  1(39),  7(3);   Iv.  2(1).     Whole  no.  43. 

2d  Lord  {Dtike)  :  11.  I  (2).     Whole  no.  2. 

1st  Lord  (^Frederick)  :  11.  2(4).     Whole  no.  4. 

2d  Lord  (^Frederick)  :  11.  2(9).     Whole  no.  9. 

Forester:  Iv.  2(10).     Whole  no.  10. 

\st  Page  :  v.  3(31).     Whole  no.  31. 

2d  Page  :  v.  3(27).     Whole  no.  27. 

^^^a/m^.-  1.  2(63),  3(57);  11.4(26);  111.2(192),  4(22),  5(43); 
iv.  i(i53)»  3(74);  V.  2(74),  4(45).     Whole  no.  749. 

Celia:  i.  2(93),  3(66);  11.  4(7);  111.  2(72),  4(32);  iv.  1(12), 
3(22).     Whole  no.  304. 

Phebe:  Hi.  5(72);  v.  2(9),  4(6).     Whole  no.  87. 

Audrey :  ill.  3(12);   v.  1(7),  3(4).     Whole  no.  23. 

''Air  {Song)  :  v.  4(6).     Whole  no.  6. 

In  the  above  enumeration,  parts  of  lines  are  counted  as  whole 
lines,  making  the  total  of  the  play  greater  than  it  is.  The  actual 
number  of  lines  in  each  scene  (Globe  edition  numbering)  is  as 
follows:  1.  I  (180),  2(301),  3(140);  11.  1(69),  2(21),  3(76), 
4(100),  5(65).  6(19),  7(203);  iii.  1(18),  2(457),  3(109),  4(62), 
5(139);  iv.  1(224),  2(19),  3(184);  V.  1(69),  2(135),  3(49); 
4(228).     Whole  no.  in  the  play,  2867. 

Rosalind  has  more  lines  than  any  other  of  Shakespeare's  women. 
Cleopatra  comes  next,  with  670  lines;  then  Imogen,  with  596; 
Portia  {M.  of  V.),  with  589;  and  Juliet,  with  541.  At  the  other 
end  of  the  list  (counting  only  important  female  characters)  are 
Miranda,  with  142  lines ;  Cordelia,  Lady  Capulet,  and  the  Queen 
in  Richard  LL.,  with  115  each;  and  Portia  {/.  C),  with  92.  In 
T.  of  A.  the  female  characters  have  only  15  lines  in  all. 


INDEX   OF   WORDS   AND    PHRASES 
EXPLAINED 


a  (=  one),  241. 

a  (transposed),  170. 

abused  (=  deceived),  225, 

231. 
accord  (=  consent),  247. 
acres,  242. 

action  (trisyllable),  232. 
addressed    (=  prepared), 

248. 
adventure,  195. 
after  (=  afterwards),  248. 
against,  229. 
ages  (of  life),  204. 
alack,  233. 
Aliena  (accent),  186. 
allotery,  172. 
all  points,  185. 
along  (=  at  full  length), 

189,  215. 
a  many,  173. 
amaze  (=  confuse),  178. 
am  remembered,  226. 
anatomize,  174,  201. 
and  all  at  once,  223. 
a-night,  195. 
answered      (=  satisfied), 

203. 
antique,  189. 
apart  (=  aside),  233. 
April,  229. 
Arden,  172. 
are  (=  have),  179. 
argument  (=  cause),  182, 

207. 
as  (=  namely),  188,  237. 
as  (omitted),  191. 
aspect,  233. 
assayed  (=  tried),  186. 
Atalanta's     better     part, 

211. 
at  an  instant,  184. 
at  heart,  180. 
at  large,  248. 


atomies,  214. 
atone  together,  246. 
Audrey,  219. 

bandy,  238. 

banquet,  198. 

Barbary        cock-pigeon, 

229. 
basest  function,  202. 
batlet,  195. 
Bay  of  Portugal,  231. 
bear  (play  upon),  194. 
beard,  205. 

beggarly  thanks,  197. 
beholding     (=  beholden), 

228. 
be  naught  awhile,  170. 
bestow  (reflexive),  234. 
better,  I  were,  221. 
better     world      (=  better 

times),  1S2. 
bid  (=  bade),  232. 
bills  (weapons),  178. 
blood     (=  kinship),     171, 

193- 
blood  (=  passion),  244. 
blue  eye,  218. 
bob  (=  rap),  201. 
body,  190, 237. 
boldened,  203. 
bolt  (=  arrow),  244. 
bonnet  (=  hat),  218. 
bonny,  191. 
books  for  good  manners, 

246. 
bottom  (=  valley),  234. 
bounden, 182. 
bounds  of  feed,  196,  225. 
bow  (=  ox-bow),  220. 
brave  (=  fine),  222. 
bravery  (=  finery),  203. 
breather,  216. 
breed  (=  bring  up),  170. 

279 


brief,  237. 

bring  out  (=  put  out),  215. 

broke  (=  broken),  195. 

broken  music,  178. 

brotherly  (adverb),  174. 

brutish  (sting),  202. 

buckles  in,  211. 

bugle  (adjective),  224. 

burden  (of  song),  215. 

burghers,  189. 

bush  (vintner's  sign),  250. 

but  (=  without),  208,  223. 

butchery,  192. 

but  erewhile,  196. 

but  even  now,  199. 

but  justly  as,  180. 

butterwomen's  rank,  209. 

by  (=  aside),  215. 

by  and  by,  236. 

by  your  patience,  249. 

cage  of  rushes,  217. 
calling      (=  appellation), 

180,  221. 
capable,  223. 
caparisoned,  213. 
capricious,  219. 
carlot,  225. 
cast  (=  cast  ofT),  221. 
Celia  (trisyllable),  186. 
censure  (=judgment),  227. 
character  (.verb),  207. 
chase,  183. 
cheerly,  199. 
chid  (past  tense),  234. 
child's  father,  my,  182. 
chopt,  195. 
chroniclers,  228. 
cicatrice,  223. 
civil  (=  civilized),  210. 
clap  into  't  roundly,  241. 
clap  o'  the  shoulder,  228. 
clubs,  239. 


2  8o         Index  of  Words  and  Phrases 


cods,  195. 

combine  (=  bind) ,  247. 

come    in    (=  intervene), 

202. 
come  off  (=  escape),  176. 
come   your    ways,    180, 

193- 
comfort,  199. 
commandment,  203. 
commission,  228. 
common  (adverb),  185. 
compact,  199. 
compact  (accent),  242. 
complexion,  pale,  222. 
conceit,  199,  239,  242. 
condition  (=  temper), 181. 
conduct,  in  his  own,  248. 
conference,  181. 
confines  (accent),  189. 
conjure  (accent),  250. 
conned,  216. 
consent    and    sufferance, 

191. 
constant  (=  faithful),  193. 
constant  (=  uniform), 225. 
contents  (accent),  232. 
content    with    my  harm, 

209. 
contrive  (=  plot), 173, 236. 
contriver,  173. 
conversed,  240. 
convertites,  249. 
cony,  217. 
cope,  190. 
copulatives,  244. 
cote  (=  cottage),  196. 
could  (=  would),  i8o- 
could  find  in  my  heart, 

194. 
countenance,  170. 
counter,  202. 
countercheck,  245. 
coursed,  190. 
courtship    (=  court  life), 

217. 
cousin,  183,  237. 
cousin  (=  niece) ,  183. 
cover    (=  set   the   table), 

197. 
covered  goblet,  222. 
coz,  175. 

cross  (=  penny),  194. 
crow  (=  laugh) ,  200. 
cry  mercy,  224, 
curtle-axe,  185. 
curvets,  215. 


damnable,  240. 

dark  (=  in  the  dark), 224. 

dear  (play  upon),  183. 

dearly  (=  heartily),  183. 

deep-contemplative,  200. 

defied  (=  slighted),  251. 

description  (quadrisylla- 
ble), 234. 

desperate,  243. 

device,  174. 

dial  (=  watch) ,  200. 

Diana  in  the  fountain,  229. 

dies  and  lives,  223. 

disable  (=  disparage), 
227,244. 

dishonest  (=  immodest), 
241. 

dislimn,  206. 

disputable,  198. 

diverted  (blood),  193. 

do  (idiomatic),  178. 

dog-apes,  197. 

do  him  right,  203. 

dole,  178. 

doublet,  194. 

drave,  219. 

draw  homewards,  237. 

ducdame,  198. 

dulcet  diseases,  244. 

duty  (=  respect),  240. 

east  (=  eastern) ,  209. 
eat  (=  eaten),  203. 
effigies  (accent),  206. 
embossed,  202. 
emulator,  173. 
enforcement,  203. 
engage  (=  pledge) ,  248. 
entame,  224. 
envenoms,  192. 
envious       (=  malicious), 

180. 
erewhile,  225. 
erring  (=  wandering)  ,210. 
estate  (verb),  238. 
Ethiope,  233. 
every  of,  248. 
exile  (accent),  186. 
exiled  (accent),  248. 
expediently,  207. 
extent,  207. 
extermined,  225. 
extreme  (accent),  190. 
extremest,  190. 
extremity,  in,  226. 
eyne,  233. 


fair  (=  beauty),  209. 

falcon,  220. 

fall  (=  befall) ,  249. 

fall  to,  206. 

falls  (transitive),  223. 

false  gallop,  209. 

fancy  (=  love),  223,  247. 

fancy-monger,  217. 

fantasy  (=  love) ,  194,  240. 

fashion  sake,  215. 

favour  (=  face),  176,  234. 

feature,  219. 

feeder  (=  shepherd) ,  196. 

fells,  208. 

female,  238. 

finish  (intransitive),  247. 

first-born  of  Egypt,  198. 

fleet  (transitive),  173. 

flout,  221,  238. 

flux,  190. 

fond  (=  foolish),  191. 

fool,  188. 

fool's  bolt,  244. 

for  (=  as  regards),  236. 

for  (=  because) ,  210. 

for  (=  for  want  of) ,  196, 

198,  203. 
forked  heads,  189. 
foul  (=  plain),  220,  224. 
frail'st,  223. 
free  (=  innocent),  203. 
friendly  (adverb),  224. 
function  (=  office) ,  202. 
furnished,  250. 

gamester,  174. 

Gargantua,  214. 

gesture  (= bearing),  240. 

giant-rude,  233. 

gilded,  228,  235. 

go  about,  175. 

goats  (play  upon),  219. 

go  buy,  172. 

God  be  wi'  you,  215,  227. 

God  'ield  you,  220,  242. 

God  rest  you  merry,  238. 

God  warn  us,  228. 

God  ye  good  even,  238. 

goldenly,  170. 

golden  world,  173. 

gondola,  227. 

good  leave,  172. 

good  my  complexion,  213. 

good  my  liege,  184. 

go  sleep,  198. 

go  to^  228. 


Index  of  Words  and  Phrases         281 


grace,  191. 

grace  (verb),  240. 

graces,  225. 

gracious,  179. 

graff,  210. 

gravelled,  228. 

great  reckoning  in  a  little 

room,  220. 
ground,  215. 
grow  upon  me,  172. 

had  as  lief,  173,  215. 
had  rather,  194. 
handkercher,  235,  239, 
hard  adventure,  195. 
hard-favoured,  220. 
have  with  you,  181. 
having       (=  possession), 

218. 
he  (=  him),  174. 
he  (=man),  208,  218. 
headed,  202. 
heart  (play  upon),  215. 
hem  them  away,  182. 
him  (=  he  whom),  171. 
hinds  (=  servants),  170. 
hire  (=  wages),  193. 
his  (=  its),  206. 
holla,  215. 

holly  (songs  of),  206. 
holy  bread,  221. 
honest     (=  chaste),    176, 

220. 
hose    (=  breeches),    194, 

205. 
hour  (dissyllable),  242. 
housewife,  176. 
humorous,  181,  227. 
hurtling,  236. 
huswife,  176,  233. 
hyen,  229. 

I  (=me),  175,  181. 
if  that,  183. 
ill-favouredly,  176. 
ill-inhabited,  220. 
impressure,  223. 
inaccessible,  203. 
incision,  209. 
incontinent,  239. 
inconvenient,  240. 
in  (duplicated),  203. 
Ind, 209. 
indented,  235. 
inland  bred,  203. 
in  lieu  of,  193. 


in  little,  211. 
in  my  voice,  196. 
in  parcels,  226. 
inquisition,  191. 
insinuate  with,  250. 
insomuch,  240. 
instance  (=  proof),  208. 
instances,  205. 
instrument,  234. 
intendment,  173. 
intermission  (metre),  200. 
in  that  kind,  189. 
invention,  198. 
Irish  rat,  213. 
irks,  188. 

it  is  (contemptuous),  173, 
225. 

Jaques,  i8g. 
jars  (=  discords),  199. 
Jove's  tree,  215. 
Judas's  hair,  221. 
Juno's  swans,  184. 
just  (=just  so),  216. 
justly,  180. 

kill  up,  190. 

kind  (=  nature),  203,  209, 

234-         .     .    ^ 
kindle  (=  incite),  175. 
kindled  (=born),  217. 
knoUed,  203. 

lack,  230. 

Lady  Fortune,  176. 

laid    on   with   a    trowel, 

178. 
lay  along,  189. 
learn  (=  teach),  175. 
leer  (=  look),  228. 
lief,  174. 

like  (=had  like),  243. 
like  (=  likely),  175,  242. 
liked  (=  pleased),  251. 
limned,  206. 
lined,  209. 

live  i'  the  sun,  to,  198. 
lively  (=  lifelike),  243. 
liver,  219. 

living  (=  real),  219. 
look  (=  look  for),  198, 
look  you,  194. 
loose  (=let  fall),  225. 
lover  (feminine),  222,  240. 
low  (of  stature),  235. 
lusty,  225,  232. 


make  (=  do),  170, 191,  214. 

make  (=  earn),  234. 

make  even,  243. 

make  the  doors,  229. 

manage  (noun),  170. 

manners  (play  upon),  208. 

mannish,  186. 

marry,  170. 

material,  220. 

matter  (=  sense),  190, 242. 

May,  229. 

me  (reflexive),  179. 

measure   (  =  dance) ,  243, 

249. 
measured  swords,  245. 
meat  and  drink  to  me,  237. 
medlar,  210. 
memory      (=  memorial), 

191. 
merely,  219. 
mettle,  203. 
mewling,  204. 
might  (=may),  179. 
mines,  170. 
misconsters,  181. 
misprised,  175,  179. 
misused,  230. 
modern  (=  trivial),  227. 
moe,  215, 
moonish,  219. 
moral  (verb),  200. 
moralize,  190. 
more  sounder,  208. 
more  worthier,  220. 
mortal  (=  very),  196. 
motley,  199. 
music  (broken),  178. 
mutiny,  170. 
mutton  (=  sheep) ,  208. 
myself  alone,  215. 

napkin  (=  handkerchief), 

235- 
native,  217. 
natural  (=fool),  176. 
natural      (=  legitimate), 

173- 
naught,  170,  176,  208. 
necessary,  220. 
needless  (=  not  needing) , 

190. 
new-fallen,  249. 
new-fangled,  229. 
nice  (=  affected),  227. 
nine  days'  wonder,  212. 
no  more  do  yours,  192. 


282         Index  of  Words  and  Phrases 


nor  did  not,  193,  241. 
nor  none,  175,  223. 
note  (=  tune) ,  198. 
nuptial,  239. 
nurture  (=  culture) ,  203. 

O  sweet  Oliver,  221. 

obscured  (=  hidden),  243. 

observance,  214,  240. 

observation,  201. 

Od's  my  little  life,  224. 

Od's  my  will,  233. 

of (=  by), 190, 217. 

of  (duplicated),  203. 

of  (=in),  237. 

of  (with  verbals) ,  195, 199. 

offer'st  fairly,  248. 

of  might,  225. 

often  (adjective),  227. 

old  custom,  186. 

on,  170,  182. 

on  my  life,  182. 

only    (transposed),    175, 

179,  241. 
on  such  a  sudden,  182. 
out  (=  at  a  loss),  228. 
outface  it,  186. 
out  of  suits,  180. 

pageant,  222. 

painted  cloth,  216. 

pantaloon,  205. 

parlous,  208. 

parts  (=  gifts),  180,  191. 

passing  (adverb),  226. 

pathetical,  230. 

patience  (trisyllable) ,  184. 

peascod,  195. 

peevish  (=  silly),  225. 

penalty  of  Adam,  186. 

perforce,  175. 

perpend,  208. 

persever,  238. 

petitionary,  213. 

Phebes  (verb),  233. 

phoenix.  232. 

physic  (verb),  172. 

pick-purse,  221. 

place,  192. 

please  (impersonal),  172, 

179. 
point-device,  218. 
poke  (=  pocket) ,  200. 
politic,  227. 
pompous,  249. 
poverty  (concrete),  184. 


power  (=  army) ,  248. 

practices  (=  plots),  192. 

practise  (intransitive) , 
174. 

prayers  (dissyllable) ,  234. 

presence  (play  upon)  ,178. 

presentation,  246. 

presently,  199. 

princess  (plural),  179. 

priser,  191. 

private  (=  lonely),  208. 

private  (=  particular),  202. 

profit(=  proficiency),  170. 

promotion  (quadrisylla- 
ble), 193. 

proper  (=  comely),  178. 

properer,  224. 

provide  (reflexive),  184. 

puisny,  222. 

purchase  (=  get),  217. 

pure,  176. 

purgation,  183,  243. 

purlieus,  234. 

put  on  us,  177. 

Pythagoras,  213. 

quail,  191. 

question (=  talk),  218, 248. 

quintain,  181. 

quintessence,  211. 

quip,  244. 

quit  (reflexive),  207. 

quotidian,  217. 

ragged  (= rough),  197. 

railed  on,  200. 

rank  (play  upon),  178. 

ranker,  228. 

rankness,  172. 

rascal,  220. 

raw  (=  green) ,  209. 

reason  of,  176. 

recks,  196. 

recountments,  236. 

recovered,  226,  237. 

religious,  217,  248. 

remembered,  206. 

remorse  (=pity),  184. 

removed  (=  retired),  217. 

render  (=  describe),  236. 

render  (=  give  back) ,  175. 

resolve  (=  solve),  214. 

rest  (=  remain),  182. 

reverence,  171. 

right  (=  downright),  209. 

ring  time,  242. 


ripe  (=  mature),  235. 
ripe  (verb),  200. 
Rosalind,  175. 
roynish,  191. 

sad  (=  serious),  214. 

safest  haste,  183. 

sale-work,  224. 

sans,  200,  206. 

sauce,  225. 

saws    (=  maxims) ,     205, 

225. 
scape,  209. 

school  (=  university),  170. 
scrip,  212. 

seasons'  difference,  186. 
see  (music),  178. 
seeming  (adverb) ,  244. 
se'nnight,  216. 
senseless,  201. 
sentence  end,  211. 
sententious,  244. 
sequestered,  189. 
settled  low  content,  193. 
seven  ages  of  life,  204. 
shadow,  231. 
shall  (=  must,  173),  238. 
shame  (intransitive),  236. 
she  (=  woman) ,  208. 
should,  212. 
should  down,  180. 
should  (=  would),  180. 
show  (=  appear),  184. 
shrewd  (=  evil),  248, 
sighing  like  furnace,  205. 
simples,  227. 
simply    (=  indeed),  .218, 

230. 
Sir,  220. 
sirrah,  237. 
smother  (noun),  182. 
snake,  234. 

so  (omitted),  178,  207. 
so  (=if),  175. 
solemn  (=  earnest),  194. 
some,  223. 
sooth,  218. 
so  please  you,  172,  179, 

233-  ,    ^ 

sorts  (=  ranks),  175. 
south (=  south  wind),  224. 
South   Sea  of  discovery, 

214. 
speak  (=  say),  241. 
speed  (=  patron),  180. 
spheres  (music  of) ,  199. 


Index  of  Words  and  Phrases 


283 


spleen  (=  caprice),  231. 
spoke  (participle),  172. 
sport  (play  upon  ?),  177. 
squander,  201. 
stagger  (=  waver) ,  220. 
stalking-horse,  246. 
stand  with,  196. 
stanzo,  197. 
states  (=  estates),  248. 
stay  (=  wait  for),  214. 
stays  (=detains),  170, 184. 
still    (=  constantly),  180, 

184,  208. 
still  music,  246. 
sting,  202. 
stir  (=  excite),  185. 
straight  (adverb) ,  226. 
strange  places,  201, 
strong  at  heart,  237. 
subject  (accent),  192. 
successfully,  179. 
sudden  (=  passionate) , 

205. 
suddenly,  191. 
suflficed,  204. 
suit  me  (= dress  myself), 

185. 
suit     (play    upon),    201, 

228. 
sure  (=  surely),  223,  247. 
sure  (=  united) ,  247. 
swaggerer,  232. 
swashing,  186. 
sweat  (past  tense),  193. 
sweet  my  coz,  175. 
swift  (=  ready),  244. 
sworn,  227. 
swore  brothers,  246. 
synod,  212. 

ta'en  up  (=  made  up) ,  243. 
take  a  good  heart,  237. 
take  no  scorn,  232. 
tame  (=  subdue) ,  224. 
tapster   (the  word  of  a), 

222. 
tax  (=  censure),  202,  217. 
taxation  (=  censure),  177. 


tempered,  175. 

tender  dearly,  240. 

that  (conjunctional  affix), 

183,  185,  202,  225. 
that1;=  so  that),  178. 
thither  (=  thereto),  175. 
thought  (=love),  231. 
thrasonical,  239. 
thrice-crowned,  207. 
thrifty  (proleptic),  193. 
to  (=  with  regard  to),  236. 
toad-stone,  188. 
too  late  a  week,  193. 
touches,  212. 
toward  (=  at  hand),  243. 
traverse       (=  crosswise) , 

222. 
treasure  (=  enrich),  191. 
troth,  by  my,  177,  216, 

241. 
trow,  213. 
turn  (a  note),  197. 
turn  him  going,  207. 
turn  (=  return) ,  207. 
turned  into,  233. 

unbashful,  193. 
uncouth,  199. 
underhand,  173. 
unexpressive,  208. 
ungentleness,  240. 
unhandsome,  249. 
unkind,  206. 
unquestionable,  218. 
unto,  180. 
untreasured,  191. 
untuneable,  242. 
up  (intensive),  190. 
upon,  196,  204. 
use,  192. 

vein,  203. 
velvet,  190. 
vengeance,  233. 
verity,  222. 
villain,  171. 
virtuous,  184. 
voice,  in  my,  196. 


ware  (=  aware) ,  196. 
warp,  206. 

was  (=  has  been),  228. 
waste  (=  spend),  196. 
weak  (proleptic),  204. 
weaker  vessel,  194. 
wear  (=  dress),  200. 
wearing(=wearying),  194. 
weeping  tears,  195. 
well  breathed,  180. 
well  said,  199. 
wert  best,  thou,  174. 
what,  173,  196,  222. 
what  had  he  to  do,  etc., 

226. 
what  though  ?  220. 
wherein,  179,  214. 
while,  the,  197. 
whiles,  204,  242. 
who  (=whom),  216,  222. 
whooping,  213. 
wide-enlarged,  211. 
wind  (=wend),  221. 
winter's  sisterhood,  221. 
wise  men  (accent),  177. 
wiser  (adverb),  196. 
wit,  whither  wilt  ?  176, 

230. 
with  (=for),  183. 
with  (=from).  214. 
withal,  173,  176. 
woman  of  the  world,  241, 
woo  (=  gain  over),  186. 
working,  179. 
working-day  (adjective) , 

182. 
world  (hyperbolical) ,  205 
world  (=  times),  182. 
wrath  (=  ardour) ,  239. 
wrestler  (spelling),  172. 
wrestler  (trisyllable),  191 

year  (plural),  216,  240. 
yet  (transposed),  175. 
you  (expletive),  209. 
young,  171. 
your  (colloquial),  221. 
youth  and  kmd,  234. 


Rolfe's   English    Classics 

DESIGNED    FOR    USE    IN    HIGH    SCHOOLS    AND 
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