William Shakespeare - William Shakespeare - Complete Works

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 'tis

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.

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;

But kindness, nobler ever than revenge,

And nature, stronger than his just occasion,

Made him give battle to the lioness,

Who quickly fell before him; in which hurtling

From miserable slumber I awak'd.

CELIA. Are you his brother?

ROSALIND. Was't you he rescu'd?

CELIA. Was't you that did so oft contrive to kill him?

OLIVER. 'Twas I; but 'tis 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,

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

The lioness had torn some flesh away,

Which all this while had bled; and now he fainted,

And cried, in fainting, upon Rosalind.

Brief, I recover'd him, bound up his wound,

And, after some small space, being strong at heart,

He sent me hither, stranger as I am,

To tell this story, that you might excuse

His broken promise, and to give this napkin,

Dy'd 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.

ROSALIND. I would I were at home.

CELIA. We'll 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.

ROSALIND. Counterfeit, I assure you.

OLIVER. Well then, take a good heart and counterfeit to be a man.

ROSALIND. So I do; 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 you, commend my

counterfeiting to him. Will you go? Exeunt

Enter TOUCHSTONE and AUDREY

TOUCHSTONE. We shall find a time, Audrey; patience, 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.

AUDREY. Ay, I know who 'tis; he hath no interest in me in the

world; here comes the man you mean.

Enter WILLIAM

TOUCHSTONE. It is meat and drink to me to see a clown. By my troth,

we that have good wits have much to answer for: we shall be

flouting; we cannot hold.

WILLIAM. Good ev'n, Audrey.

AUDREY. God ye good ev'n, William.

WILLIAM. And good ev'n to you, sir.

TOUCHSTONE. Good ev'n, gentle friend. Cover thy head, cover thy

head; nay, prithee be cover'd. How old are you, friend?

WILLIAM. Five and twenty, sir.

TOUCHSTONE. A ripe age. Is thy name William?

WILLIAM. William, sir.

TOUCHSTONE. A fair name. Wast born i' th' 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 excellent good; and

yet it is not; it is but so so. Art thou wise?

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

TOUCHSTONE. Why, thou say'st well. I do now remember a saying: 'The

fool doth think he is wise, but the wise man knows himself to be

a fool.' The heathen philosopher, when he had a desire to eat a

grape, would open his lips when he put it into his mouth; meaning

thereby that grapes were made to eat and lips to open. You do

love this maid?

WILLIAM. I do, sir.

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 pour'd out of 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. Therefore, you

clown, abandon- which is in the vulgar leave- the society- which

in the boorish is company- of this female- which in the common is

woman- which together is: abandon the society of this female; or,

clown, thou perishest; or, to thy better understanding, diest;

or, to wit, I kill thee, make thee away, translate thy life into

death, thy liberty into bondage. I will deal in poison with thee,

or in bastinado, or in steel; I will bandy with thee in faction;

will o'er-run thee with policy; I will kill thee a hundred and

fifty ways; therefore tremble and depart.

AUDREY. Do, good William.

WILLIAM. God rest you merry, sir. Exit

Enter CORIN

CORIN. Our master and mistress seeks you; come away, away.

TOUCHSTONE. Trip, Audrey, trip, Audrey. I attend, I attend.

Exeunt

Enter ORLANDO and OLIVER

ORLANDO. Is't possible that on so little acquaintance you should

like her? that but seeing you should love her? and loving woo?

and, wooing, she should grant? and will you 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 my father's house and all the revenue

that was old Sir Rowland's will I estate upon you, and here live

and die a shepherd.

ORLANDO. You have my consent. Let your wedding be to-morrow.

Thither will I invite the Duke and all's contented followers. Go

you and prepare Aliena; for, look you, here comes my Rosalind.

Enter ROSALIND

ROSALIND. God save you, brother.

OLIVER. And you, fair sister. Exit

ROSALIND. O, my dear Orlando, how it grieves me to see thee wear

thy heart in a scarf!

ORLANDO. It is my arm.

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

lion.

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