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Speeches (Lines) for Rosalind
in "As You Like It"

Total: 201

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# Act, Scene, Line
(Click to see in context)
Speech text

1

I,2,147

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
extraordinary pleasure.

2

I,2,157

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

3

I,2,165

From henceforth I will, coz, and devise sports.
Let me see; what think you of falling in love?

4

I,2,170

What shall be our sport, then?

5

I,2,173

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.

6

I,2,179

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

7

I,2,187

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

8

I,2,197

Where learned you that oath, fool?

9

I,2,203

Ay, marry, now unmuzzle your wisdom.

10

I,2,222

With his mouth full of news.

11

I,2,224

Then shall we be news-cramm'd.

12

I,2,230

As wit and fortune will.

13

I,2,234

Thou losest thy old smell.

14

I,2,237

Yet tell us the manner of the wrestling.

15

I,2,245

With bills on their necks: 'Be it known unto all men by
these presents'-

16

I,2,253

Alas!

17

I,2,260

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?

18

I,2,270

Is yonder the man?

19

I,2,275

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

20

I,2,285

Young man, have you challeng'd Charles the wrestler?

21

I,2,294

Do, young sir; your reputation shall not therefore be
misprised: we will make it our suit to the Duke that the
wrestling might not go forward.

22

I,2,306

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

23

I,2,309

Fare you well. Pray heaven I be deceiv'd in you!

24

I,2,319

Now, Hercules be thy speed, young man!

25

I,2,322

O excellent young man!

26

I,2,345

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.

27

I,2,357

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?

28

I,2,365

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.

29

I,2,370

Have with you. Fare you well.

30

I,3,410

Not one to throw at a dog.

31

I,3,413

Then there were two cousins laid up, when the one should
be lam'd with reasons and the other mad without any.

32

I,3,416

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

33

I,3,421

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

34

I,3,424

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

35

I,3,426

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

36

I,3,431

The Duke my father lov'd his father dearly.

37

I,3,435

No, faith, hate him not, for my sake.

38

I,3,438

Let me love him for that; and do you love him because I
do. Look, here comes the Duke.

39

I,3,443

Me, uncle?

40

I,3,448

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
Did I offend your Highness.

41

I,3,460

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

42

I,3,463

So was I when your Highness took his dukedom;
So was I when your Highness banish'd him.
Treason is not inherited, my lord;
Or, if we did derive it from our friends,
What's that to me? My father was no traitor.
Then, good my liege, mistake me not so much
To think my poverty is treacherous.

43

I,3,498

I have more cause.

44

I,3,502

That he hath not.

45

I,3,513

Why, whither shall we go?

46

I,3,515

Alas, what danger will it be to us,
Maids as we are, to travel forth so far!
Beauty provoketh thieves sooner than gold.

47

I,3,522

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'll have a swashing and a martial outside,
As many other mannish cowards have
That do outface it with their semblances.

48

I,3,532

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

49

I,3,537

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?

50

II,4,723

O Jupiter, how weary are my spirits!

51

II,4,725

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

52

II,4,733

Well, this is the Forest of Arden.

53

II,4,737

Ay, be so, good Touchstone. Look you, who comes here, a
young man and an old in solemn talk.

54

II,4,761

Alas, poor shepherd! searching of thy wound,
I have by hard adventure found mine own.

55

II,4,772

Thou speak'st wiser than thou art ware of.

56

II,4,775

Jove, Jove! this shepherd's passion
Is much upon my fashion.

57

II,4,782

Peace, fool; he's not thy kinsman.

58

II,4,786

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

59

II,4,788

I prithee, shepherd, if that love or gold
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.

60

II,4,806

What is he that shall buy his flock and pasture?

61

II,4,809

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.

62

III,2,1199

'From the east to western Inde,
No jewel is like Rosalinde.
Her worth, being mounted on the wind,
Through all the world bears Rosalinde.
All the pictures fairest lin'd
Are but black to Rosalinde.
Let no face be kept in mind
But the fair of Rosalinde.'

63

III,2,1210

Out, fool!

64

III,2,1226

Peace, you dull fool! I found them on a tree.

65

III,2,1228

I'll graff it with you, and then I shall graff 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.

66

III,2,1235

Peace!
Here comes my sister, reading; stand aside.

67

III,2,1267

O most gentle Jupiter! What tedious homily of love have
you wearied your parishioners withal, and never cried 'Have
patience, good people.'

68

III,2,1276

O, yes, I heard them all, and more too; for some of them
had in them more feet than the verses would bear.

69

III,2,1279

Ay, but the feet were lame, and could not bear themselves
without the verse, and therefore stood lamely in the verse.

70

III,2,1283

I was seven of the nine days out of the wonder before you
came; for look here what I found on a palm-tree. I was never so
berhym'd since Pythagoras' time that I was an Irish rat, which I
can hardly remember.

71

III,2,1288

Is it a man?

72

III,2,1291

I prithee, who?

73

III,2,1294

Nay, but who is it?

74

III,2,1296

Nay, I prithee now, with most petitionary vehemence, tell
me who it is.

75

III,2,1300

Good my complexion! dost thou think, though I am
caparison'd 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 could'st stammer, that thou mightst pour this conceal'd man
out of thy mouth, as wine comes out of narrow-mouth'd 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.

76

III,2,1309

Is he of God's making? What manner of man?
Is his head worth a hat or his chin worth a beard?

77

III,2,1312

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.

78

III,2,1317

Nay, but the devil take mocking! Speak sad brow and true
maid.

79

III,2,1320

Orlando?

80

III,2,1322

Alas the day! what shall I do with my doublet and hose?
What did he when thou saw'st him? What said he? How look'd 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.

81

III,2,1330

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?

82

III,2,1336

It may well be call'd Jove's tree, when it drops forth
such fruit.

83

III,2,1339

Proceed.

84

III,2,1341

Though it be pity to see such a sight, it well becomes
the ground.

85

III,2,1345

O, ominous! he comes to kill my heart.

86

III,2,1348

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

87

III,2,1352

'Tis he; slink by, and note him.

88

III,2,1391

[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?

89

III,2,1395

I pray you, what is't o'clock?

90

III,2,1398

Then there is no true lover in the forest, else sighing
every minute and groaning every hour would detect the lazy foot
of Time as well as a clock.

91

III,2,1403

By no means, sir. Time travels in divers paces with
divers persons. I'll tell you who Time ambles withal, who Time
trots withal, who Time gallops withal, and who he stands still
withal.

92

III,2,1408

Marry, he trots hard with a young maid between the
contract of her marriage and the day it is solemniz'd; if the
interim be but a se'nnight, Time's pace is so hard that it seems
the length of seven year.

93

III,2,1413

With a priest that lacks Latin and a rich man that hath
not the gout; for the one sleeps easily 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 burden of heavy tedious penury. These Time ambles
withal.

94

III,2,1420

With a thief to the gallows; for though he go as softly
as foot can fall, he thinks himself too soon there.

95

III,2,1423

With lawyers in the vacation; for they sleep between term
and term, and then they perceive not how Time moves.

96

III,2,1426

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

97

III,2,1429

As the coney that you see dwell where she is kindled.

98

III,2,1432

I have been told so of many; but indeed an old religious
uncle of mine taught me to speak, who was in his youth an inland
man; one that knew courtship 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 touch'd with so many giddy offences as he
hath generally tax'd their whole sex withal.

99

III,2,1440

There were none principal; they were all like one another
as halfpence are; every one fault seeming monstrous till his
fellow-fault came to match it.

100

III,2,1444

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 'Rosalind' 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.

101

III,2,1453

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.

102

III,2,1457

A lean cheek, which you have not; a blue eye and sunken,
which you have not; an unquestionable spirit, which you have not;
a beard neglected, which you have not; but I pardon you for that,
for simply your having in beard is a younger brother's revenue.
Then your hose should be ungarter'd, your bonnet unbanded, your
sleeve unbutton'd, your shoe untied, and every thing about you
demonstrating a careless desolation. But you are no such man; you
are rather point-device in your accoutrements, as loving yourself
than seeming the lover of any other.

103

III,2,1467

Me believe it! You may as soon make her that you love
believe 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 lie to their consciences. But, in good sooth, are you he that
hangs the verses on the trees wherein Rosalind is so admired?

104

III,2,1474

But are you so much in love as your rhymes speak?

105

III,2,1476

Love is merely a madness; and, I tell you, deserves as
well a dark house and a whip as madmen do; and the reason why
they are not so punish'd and cured is that the lunacy is so
ordinary that the whippers are in love too. Yet I profess curing
it by counsel.

106

III,2,1482

Yes, one; and in this manner. He was 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,
changeable, longing and liking, proud, fantastical, apish,
shallow, inconstant, full of tears, full of smiles; for every
passion something and for no passion truly anything, 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 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 cur'd 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.

107

III,2,1497

I would cure you, if you would but call me Rosalind, and
come every day to my cote and woo me.

108

III,2,1500

Go with me to it, and I'll show it you; and, by the way,
you shall tell me where in the forest you live. Will you go?

109

III,2,1503

Nay, you must call me Rosalind. Come, sister, will you
go? Exeunt

110

III,4,1595

Never talk to me; I will weep.

111

III,4,1598

But have I not cause to weep?

112

III,4,1600

His very hair is of the dissembling colour.

113

III,4,1603

I' faith, his hair is of a good colour.

114

III,4,1605

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

115

III,4,1610

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

116

III,4,1613

Do you think so?

117

III,4,1617

Not true in love?

118

III,4,1619

You have heard him swear downright he was.

119

III,4,1624

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 laugh'd and let me go. But what talk we of fathers when
there is such a man as Orlando?

120

III,4,1646

O, come, let us remove!
The sight of lovers feedeth those in love.
Bring us to this sight, and you shall say
I'll prove a busy actor in their play. Exeunt

121

III,5,1688

[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?
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 life,
I think she means to tangle my eyes too!
No faith, proud mistress, hope not after it;
'Tis not your inky brows, your black silk hair,
Your bugle eyeballs, nor your cheek of cream,
That can entame my spirits to your worship.
You foolish shepherd, wherefore do you follow her,
Like foggy south, puffing with wind and rain?
You are a thousand times a properer man
Than she a woman. 'Tis such fools as you
That makes the world full of ill-favour'd children.
'Tis 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.
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.

122

III,5,1720

He's fall'n in love with your foulness, and she'll fall
in love with my anger. If it be so, as fast as she answers thee
with frowning looks, I'll sauce her with bitter words. Why look
you so upon me?

123

III,5,1725

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,
'Tis 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,
None could be so abus'd in sight as he.
Come, to our flock. Exeunt ROSALIND, CELIA, and CORIN

124

IV,1,1799

They say you are a melancholy fellow.

125

IV,1,1801

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

126

IV,1,1805

Why then, 'tis good to be a post.

127

IV,1,1815

A traveller! By my faith, you have great 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.

128

IV,1,1821

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

129

IV,1,1826

Farewell, Monsieur Traveller; look you 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. [Exit JAQUES] 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.

130

IV,1,1834

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

131

IV,1,1840

Nay, an you be so tardy, come no more in my sight. I had
as lief be woo'd of a snail.

132

IV,1,1843

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

133

IV,1,1847

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.

134

IV,1,1851

And I am your Rosalind.

135

IV,1,1854

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?

136

IV,1,1858

Nay, you were better speak first; and when you were
gravell'd for lack of matter, you might 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.

137

IV,1,1864

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

138

IV,1,1867

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

139

IV,1,1870

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

140

IV,1,1874

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

141

IV,1,1876

No, faith, die by attorney. The poor world is almost 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 dash'd 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 liv'd many a fair year, though Hero had
turn'd nun, if it had not been for a hot midsummer night; for,
good youth, he went but forth to wash him in the Hellespont, and,
being taken with the cramp, was drown'd; and the foolish
chroniclers 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.

142

IV,1,1890

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

143

IV,1,1894

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

144

IV,1,1896

Ay, and twenty such.

145

IV,1,1898

Are you not good?

146

IV,1,1900

Why then, can one desire too much of a good thing? Come,
sister, you shall be the priest, and marry us. Give me your hand,
Orlando. What do you say, sister?

147

IV,1,1905

You must begin 'Will you, Orlando'-

148

IV,1,1908

Ay, but when?

149

IV,1,1910

Then you must say 'I take thee, Rosalind, for wife.'

150

IV,1,1912

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.

151

IV,1,1916

Now tell me how long you would have her, after you have
possess'd her.

152

IV,1,1919

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 desires than a monkey. I will weep for
nothing, like Diana in the fountain, and I will do that when you
are dispos'd to be merry; I will laugh like a hyen, and that when
thou are inclin'd to sleep.

153

IV,1,1929

By my life, she will do as I do.

154

IV,1,1931

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 'twill out at the key-hole; stop
that, 'twill fly with the smoke out at the chimney.

155

IV,1,1937

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

156

IV,1,1940

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
occasion, let her never nurse her child herself, for she will
breed it like a fool!

157

IV,1,1946

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

158

IV,1,1949

Ay, go your ways, go your ways. I knew what you would
prove; my friends told me as much, and I thought no less. That
flattering tongue of yours won me. 'Tis but one cast away, and
so, come death! Two o'clock is your hour?

159

IV,1,1954

By my troth, and in good earnest, and so God mend me, and
by all pretty oaths that are not dangerous, 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 may
be chosen out of the gross band of the unfaithful. Therefore
beware my censure, and keep your promise.

160

IV,1,1963

Well, Time is the old justice that examines all such
offenders, and let Time try. Adieu. Exit ORLANDO

161

IV,1,1968

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 unknown bottom, like the Bay of Portugal.

162

IV,1,1973

No; that same wicked bastard of Venus, that was begot of
thought, conceiv'd 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 how deep I am in love. I'll tell thee,
Aliena, I cannot be out of the sight of Orlando. I'll go find a
shadow, and sigh till he come.

163

IV,3,2001

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

164

IV,3,2014

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;
Why writes she so to me? Well, shepherd, well,
This is a letter of your own device.

165

IV,3,2024

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 'twas 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.

166

IV,3,2033

Why, 'tis a boisterous and a cruel style;
A style for challengers. Why, she defies me,
Like Turk to Christian. Women'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?

167

IV,3,2041

She Phebes me: mark how the tyrant writes. [Reads]
'Art thou god to shepherd turn'd,
That a maiden's heart hath burn'd?'
Can a woman rail thus?

168

IV,3,2046

'Why, thy godhead laid apart,
Warr'st thou with a woman's heart?'
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
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 move!
He that brings this love to the
Little knows this love in me;
And by him seal up thy mind,
Whether that thy youth and kind
Will the faithful offer take
Of me and all that I can make;
Or else by him my love deny,
And then I'll study how to die.'

169

IV,3,2068

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 endur'd! Well, go your way to her,
for I see love hath made thee tame snake, and say this to 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.

170

IV,3,2096

I am. What must we understand by this?

171

IV,3,2129

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

172

IV,3,2138

Was't you he rescu'd?

173

IV,3,2143

But for the bloody napkin?

174

IV,3,2168

I would I were at home.

175

IV,3,2173

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!

176

IV,3,2178

Counterfeit, I assure you.

177

IV,3,2180

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

178

IV,3,2186

I shall devise something; but, I pray you, commend my
counterfeiting to him. Will you go? Exeunt

179

V,2,2264

God save you, brother.

180

V,2,2266

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

181

V,2,2269

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

182

V,2,2272

Did your brother tell you how I counterfeited to swoon
when he show'd me your handkercher?

183

V,2,2275

O, I know where you are. Nay, 'tis true. There was never
any thing so sudden but the fight of two rams and Caesar's
thrasonical brag of 'I came, saw, and overcame.' For your brother
and my sister no sooner met but they look'd; no sooner look'd but
they lov'd; no sooner lov'd but they sigh'd; no sooner sigh'd but
they ask'd one another the reason; no sooner knew the reason but
they sought the remedy- and in these degrees have they made pair
of stairs to marriage, which they will climb incontinent, or else
be incontinent before marriage. They are in the very wrath of
love, and they will together. Clubs cannot part them.

184

V,2,2290

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

185

V,2,2293

I will weary you, then, no longer with idle talking. Know
of me then- for now I speak to some 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, convers'd
with a magician, most profound in his art and yet not damnable.
If you do love Rosalind so near the heart as your gesture 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 appear not inconvenient to you, to set
her before your eyes to-morrow, human as she is, and without any
danger.

186

V,2,2309

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 married to-morrow, you shall; and to
Rosalind, if you will.
[Enter SILVIUS and PHEBE]
Look, here comes a lover of mine, and a lover of hers.

187

V,2,2317

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.

188

V,2,2326

And I for no woman.

189

V,2,2331

And I for no woman.

190

V,2,2340

And so am I for no woman.

191

V,2,2344

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

192

V,2,2346

Pray you, no more of this; 'tis like the howling of Irish
wolves against the moon. [To SILVIUS] I will help you if I can.
[To PHEBE] I would love you if I could.- To-morrow meet me all
together. [ To PHEBE ] I will marry you if ever I marry woman,
and I'll be married to-morrow. [To ORLANDO] 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 ORLANDO] As you love
Rosalind, meet. [To SILVIUS] As you love Phebe, meet;- and as I
love no woman, I'll meet. So, fare you well; I have left you
commands.

193

V,4,2407

Patience once more, whiles our compact is urg'd:
You say, if I bring in your Rosalind,
You will bestow her on Orlando here?

194

V,4,2411

And you say you will have her when I bring her?

195

V,4,2413

You say you'll marry me, if I be willing?

196

V,4,2415

But if you do refuse to marry me,
You'll give yourself to this most faithful shepherd?

197

V,4,2418

You say that you'll have Phebe, if she will?

198

V,4,2420

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

199

V,4,2509

[To DUKE] To you I give myself, for I am yours.
[To ORLANDO] To you I give myself, for I am yours.

200

V,4,2515

I'll have no father, if you be not he;
I'll have no husband, if you be not he;
Nor ne'er wed woman, if you be not she.

201

V,4,2596

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, 'tis 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
furnish'd like a beggar; therefore to beg will not become me. My
way is to conjure you; and I'll begin with the women. I charge
you, O women, for the love you bear to men, 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 simp'ring 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
pleas'd me, complexions that lik'd me, and breaths that I defied
not; and, I am sure, as many as have good beards, or good faces,
or sweet breaths, will, for my kind offer, when I make curtsy,
bid me farewell.

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