LE BEAU, a courtier attending on Frederick
CHARLES, wrestler to Frederick
the three sons of Sir Rowland de Bois
OLIVER
JAQUES
ORLANDO
ADAM, an old servant of Sir Rowland, now in service to Oliver
DENNIS, servant to Oliver
JAQUES, a melancholy traveller
CORIN, an old shepherd
SILVIUS, a young shepherd, in love with Phoebe
PHOEBE, a shepherdess
WILLIAM, a countryman, in love with Audrey
AUDREY, a goatherd
SIR OLIVER MARTEXT, a country clergyman
HYMEN, god of marriage, perhaps played by Amiens or another courtier
Lords, Pages, Attendants
Act 1 Scene 1
running scene 1
Enter Orlando and Adam
ORLANDO As I remember, Adam1, it was upon this fashion
bequeathed me by will but poor a thousand crowns2, and, as
thou sayest, charged my brother on his blessing to breed3 me
well: and there begins my sadness. My brother Jaques he
keeps at school5, and report speaks goldenly of his profit. For
my part, he keeps me rustically at home, or, to speak more
properly, stays me here at home unkept7, for call you that
keeping for a gentleman of my birth, that differs not from the
stalling9 of an ox? His horses are bred better, for, besides that
they are fair10 with their feeding, they are taught their
manage, and to that end riders dearly11 hired: but I, his
brother, gain nothing under him but growth, for the which
his animals on his dunghills are as much bound13 to him as I.
Besides this nothing that he so plentifully gives me, the
something that nature gave me his countenance15 seems to
take from me: he lets me feed with his hinds16, bars me the
place of a brother, and, as much as in him lies, mines my17
gentility with my education. This is it, Adam, that grieves18
me. And the spirit of my father, which I think is within me,
begins to mutiny against this servitude. I will no longer
endure it, though yet I know no wise remedy how to avoid21 it.
Enter Oliver
ADAM Yonder comes my master, your brother.
Adam stands aside
ORLANDO Go apart23, Adam, and thou shalt hear
how he will shake me up24.
OLIVER Now, sir, what make25 you here?
ORLANDO Nothing: I am not taught to make anything.
OLIVER What mar27 you then, sir?
ORLANDO Marry28, 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 naught30
awhile.
ORLANDO Shall I keep your hogs and eat husks with them?
What prodigal portion33 have I spent that I should come to
such penury?
OLIVER Know you where you are, sir?
ORLANDO O, sir, very well: here in your orchard36.
OLIVER Know you before whom, sir?
ORLANDO Ay, better than him I am before knows38 me. I know
you are my eldest brother, and, in the gentle condition of39
blood, you should so know me. The courtesy of nations40
allows you my better, in that you are the first-born, but the
same tradition takes not away my blood42, were there twenty
brothers betwixt us: I have as much of my father in me as
you, albeit I confess your coming before me is nearer to his44
reverence.
OLIVER What, boy!
Raises his hand or hits him
ORLANDO Come, come, elder brother, you are too
Grabs him
young48 in this.
OLIVER Wilt thou lay hands on me, villain49?
ORLANDO I am no villain: I am the youngest son of Sir
Rowland de Bois51, he was my father, and he is thrice a villain
brother, I would not take this hand from thy throat till this
other had pulled out thy tongue for saying so. Thou hast
railed on55 thyself.
ADAM Sweet masters, be patient: for your father’s56
remembrance, be at accord.
OLIVER Let me go, I say.
ORLANDO I will not, till I please: you shall hear 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 qualities62. The spirit of my father grows
strong in me, and I will no longer endure it: therefore allow
me such exercises as may become64 a gentleman, or give me
the poor allottery my father left me by testament65, with that I
will go buy my fortunes.
Lets him go
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 will69. I pray you leave me.
ORLANDO I will no further offend70 you than becomes me for my
good.
To Adam
OLIVER Get you with him, you old dog.
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.
Exeunt Orlando [and] Adam
OLIVER Is it even so? Begin you to grow upon76 me? I will
physic your rankness77, and yet give no thousand crowns
neither. Holla78, 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 importunes82
access to you.
OLIVER Call him in.
[Exit Dennis]
’Twill be a good way, and tomorrow the wrestling is.
Enter Charles
CHARLES Good morrow86 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 loving91 lords have put themselves
into voluntary exile with him, whose lands and revenues
enrich the new duke, therefore he gives them good leave93 to
wander.
OLIVER Can you tell if Rosalind, the duke’s daughter, be
banished with her father?
CHARLES O, no; for the duke’s daughter, her cousin, so loves
her, being ever98 from their cradles bred together, that she
would have followed her exile, or have died to stay99 behind
her; she is at the court, and no less beloved of her uncle than
his own daughter, and never two ladies loved101 as they do.
OLIVER Where will the old duke live?
CHARLES They say he is already in the Forest of Arden103, and a
many merry men with him; and there they live like the old
Robin Hood105 of England: they say many young gentlemen
flock to him every day, and fleet the time carelessly106 as they
did in the golden world107.
OLIVER What, you wrestle tomorrow before the new duke?
CHARLES Marry do I, sir, and I came to acquaint you with a
matter. I am given, sir, secretly to understand that your
younger brother Orlando hath a disposition to come in
disguised against me to try a fall112. Tomorrow, sir, I wrestle for
my credit113, and he that escapes me without some broken limb
shall acquit him well. Your brother is but young and tender114,
and for your love I would be loath to foil115 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 withal117, that either you might
stay him from his intendment, or brook118 such disgrace well as
he shall run into, in that it is a thing of his own search119 and
altogether against my will.
OLIVER Charles, I thank thee for thy love to me, which thou
shalt find I will most kindly requite122. I had myself notice of
my brother’s purpose herein and have by underhand123 means
laboured to dissuade him from it; but he is resolute. I’ll tell
thee, Charles, it is the stubbornest young fellow of France,
full of ambition, an envious emulator126 of every man’s good
parts127, a secret and villainous contriver against me his
natural brother: therefore use thy discretion. I had as lief128
thou didst break his neck as his finger. And thou wert best
look to’t130; for if thou dost him any slight disgrace, or if he do
not mightily grace himself on thee, he will practise131 against
thee by poison, entrap thee by some treacherous device132 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, there is not one so young and so villainous this day
living. I speak but brotherly of him, but should I anatomize136
him to thee as he is, I must blush and weep and thou must
look pale and wonder.
CHARLES I am heartily glad I came hither to you. If he come
tomorrow, I’ll give him his payment. If ever he go alone140
again, I’ll never wrestle for prize more. And so God keep your
worship!
Exit
OLIVER Farewell, good Charles. Now will I stir this
gamester144: I hope I shall see an end of him; for my soul, yet I
know not why, hates nothing more than he. Yet he’s gentle145,
never schooled and yet learnèd, full of noble device146, of all
sorts147 enchantingly beloved, and indeed so much in the heart
of the world, and especially of my own people, who best
know him, that I am altogether misprised149. But it shall not be
so long: this wrestler shall clear150 all. Nothing remains but
that I kindle the boy thither151, which now I’ll go about.
Exit
Act 1 Scene 2
running scene 2
Enter Rosalind and Celia
CELIA I pray thee Rosalind, sweet my coz1, be merry.
ROSALIND Dear Celia, I show more mirth than I am mistress of,
and would3 you yet I were merrier? Unless you could teach
me to forget a banished father, you must not learn4 me how to
remember any extraordinary 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, so8 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 tempered11 as mine is to thee.
ROSALIND Well, I will forget the condition of my estate12, to
rejoice in yours.
CELIA You know my father hath no child but I, nor none is
like15 to have; and truly, when he dies, thou shalt be his heir;
for what he hath taken away from thy father perforce16, I will
render thee again in affection. 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 sports20. Let
me see, what think you of falling in love?
CELIA Marry, I prithee do, to make sport withal22: but love
no man in good earnest, nor no further in sport neither than23
with safety of a pure blush thou mayst in honour come off
again.
ROSALIND What shall be our sport, then?
CELIA Let us sit and mock the good housewife27 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 woman31 doth most
mistake in her gifts to women.
CELIA ’Tis true, for those that she makes fair33 she scarce
makes honest34, and those that she makes honest she makes
very ill-favouredly35.
ROSALIND Nay, now thou goest from Fortune’s office36 to
Nature’s: Fortune reigns in gifts of the world, not in the
lineaments38 of Nature.
Enter Clown [Touchstone]
CELIA No? When Nature hath made a fair creature, may
she not by Fortune fall into the fire40? Though Nature hath
given us wit to flout at41 Fortune, hath not Fortune sent in this
fool42 to cut off the argument?
ROSALIND Indeed, there is Fortune too hard for Nature, when
Fortune makes Nature’s natural44 the cutter-off of Nature’s
wit.
CELIA Peradventure46 this is not Fortune’s work neither, but
Nature’s, who perceiveth our natural wits too dull to reason
of such goddesses, hath sent this natural for our whetstone48,
for always the dullness of the fool is the whetstone of the
wits.— How now, wit? Whither wander you50?
TOUCHSTONE Mistress, you must come away to your father.
CELIA Were you made the messenger52?
TOUCHSTONE No, by mine honour, but I was bid to come for you.
ROSALIND Where learned you that oath, fool?
TOUCHSTONE Of a certain knight that swore by his honour they
were good pancakes56, and swore by his honour the mustard
was naught: now I’ll stand to57 it, the pancakes were naught,
and the mustard was good, and yet was not the knight
forsworn59.
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 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?
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’ll be whipped for taxation74 one of
these days.
TOUCHSTONE The more pity that fools may not speak wisely
what wise men do foolishly.
CELIA By my troth78, 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 Monsieur the Beau.
Enter Le Beau
ROSALIND With his mouth full of news.
CELIA Which he will put82 on us, as pigeons feed their
young.
ROSALIND Then shall we be news-crammed.
CELIA All the better: we shall be the more marketable85.—
Bonjour, Monsieur Le Beau, what’s the news?
LE BEAU Fair princess, you have lost87 much good sport.
CELIA Sport? Of what colour88?
LE BEAU What colour, madam? How shall I answer you?
ROSALIND As wit and fortune will.
TOUCHSTONE Or as the destinies decrees.
Imitates Le Beau
CELIA Well said, that was laid on with a trowel92.
TOUCHSTONE Nay, if I keep not my rank93—
ROSALIND Thou losest thy old94 smell.
LE BEAU You amaze95 me, ladies. I would have told you of good
wrestling, which you have lost 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 best is yet to do99: and
here, where you are, they are coming to perform it.
CELIA 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 tale103.
LE BEAU Three proper104 young men, of excellent growth and
presence.
ROSALIND With bills106 on their necks, ‘Be it known unto all men
by these presents107.’
LE BEAU The eldest of the three wrestled with Charles, the
duke’s wrestler, which Charles in a moment threw him and