William Shakespeare: The Complete Works 2nd Edition (305 page)

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Authors: William Shakespeare

Tags: #Drama, #Literary Criticism, #Shakespeare

BOOK: William Shakespeare: The Complete Works 2nd Edition
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OLIVER
O that your highness knew my heart in this.
I never loved my brother in my life.
DUKE FREDERICK
More villain thou. (
To Lords
) 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 severally
3.2
Enter Orlando with a paper
 
ORLANDO
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,
Thy huntress’ name that my full life doth sway.
O Rosalind, these trees shall be my books,
And in their barks my thoughts I’ll character
That every eye which in this forest looks
Shall see thy virtue witnessed everywhere.
Run, run, Orlando; carve on every tree
The fair, the chaste, and unexpressive she. Exit
Enter Corin and Touchstone the clown
CORIN And how like you this shepherd’s life, Master Touchstone?
TOUCHSTONE Truly, shepherd, in respect of itself, it 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 life. 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 life, look you, it fits my humour well; but as there is no more plenty in it, it goes much against my stomach. Hast any philosophy 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.
TOUCHSTONE Such a one is a natural philosopher. Wast ever in court, shepherd?
CORIN No, truly.
TOUCHSTONE Then thou art damned.
CORIN Nay, I hope.
TOUCHSTONE Truly thou art damned, like an ill-roasted egg, all on one side.
CORIN For not being at court? Your reason?
TOUCHSTONE Why, if thou never wast at court thou never sawest good manners. If thou never sawest good manners, then thy manners must be wicked, and 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.
TOUCHSTONE Instance, briefly; come, instance.
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 wholesome 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 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 the wise, and perpend: civet is of a baser birth than tar, the very uncleanly flux of a cat. Mend the instance, shepherd.
CORIN You have too courtly a wit for me. I’ll rest.
TOUCHSTONE Wilt thou rest damned? God help thee, shallow man. God make incision in thee, thou 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; 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, and to offer to get your living by the copulation of cattle; to be bawd to a bell-wether, and to betray a she-lamb of a twelvemonth to a crooked-pated old cuckoldly ram, out of all reasonable match. If thou beest not damned for this, the devil himself will have no shepherds. I cannot see else how thou shouldst scape.
CORIN Here comes young Master Ganymede, my new mistress’s brother.
Enter Rosalind as Ganymede
 
ROSALIND (
reads
)
‘From the east to western Ind
No jewel is like Rosalind.
Her worth being mounted on the wind
Through all the world bears Rosalind.
All the pictures fairest lined
Are but black to Rosalind.
Let no face be kept in mind
But the fair of Rosalind.’
 
TOUCHSTONE I’ll 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.
Wintered garments must be lined,
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.
He that sweetest rose will find
Must find love’s prick, and Rosalind.
 
This is the very false gallop of verses. Why do you infect yourself with them?
ROSALIND Peace, you dull fool, I found them on a tree.
TOUCHSTONE Truly, the tree yields bad fruit.
ROSALIND I’ll graft it with you, and then I shall graft it with a medlar; then it will be the earliest fruit i’th’ country, for you’ll be rotten ere you be half-ripe, and that’s the right virtue of the medlar.
TOUCHSTONE You have said; but whether wisely or no, let the forest judge.
Enter Celia, as Aliena, with a writing
 
ROSALIND
Peace, here comes my sister, reading. Stand aside.
CELIA (
reads)
‘Why should this a desert be?
For it is unpeopled? No.
Tongues I’ll 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
’Twixt the souls of friend 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 in little show.
Therefore heaven nature charged
That one body should be filled
With all graces wide-enlarged.
Nature presently distilled
Helen’s cheek, but not her heart,
Cleopatra’s majesty,
Atalanta’s better part,
Sad Lucretia’s modesty.
Thus Rosalind of many parts
By heavenly synod was devised
Of many faces, eyes, and hearts
To have the touches dearest prized.
Heaven would that she these gifts should have
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 honourable retreat, though not with bag and baggage, yet with scrip and scrippage.
Exit with Corin
CELIA Didst thou hear these verses?
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 trees?
ROSALIND I was seven of the nine days out of the wonder before you came; for look here what I found on a palm-tree; (
showing Celia the verses)
I was never so berhymed since Pythagoras’ 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?
ROSALIND I prithee, who?
CELIA O Lord, Lord, it is a hard matter for friends to meet. But mountains may be removed with earthquakes, 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 wonderful-wonderful, and yet again wonderful, and after that 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 stammer, 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 tidings.
CELIA So you may put a man in your belly.
ROSALIND Is he of God’s making? What manner of man? Is his head worth a hat? Or his chin worth a beard?
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.
CELIA I‘faith, coz, ’tis 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.
CELIA You must borrow me Gargantua’s mouth first, ’tis a word too great for any mouth of this age’s size. To say ay and no to these particulars is more than to answer 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 finding him, and relish it with good observance. I found him under a tree, like a dropped acorn—
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 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.
Enter Orlando and Jaques
 
CELIA You bring me out. Soft, comes he not here?
ROSALIND ’Tis he. Slink by, and note him. Rosalind and Celia stand aside
JAQUES (
to Orlando
) 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 b’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.
ORLANDO I pray you mar no more of my verses with reading them ill-favouredly.
JAQUES Rosalind is your love’s name?
ORLANDO Yes, just.
JAQUES I do not like her name.
ORLANDO There was no thought of pleasing you when she was christened.

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