SCENE II. The forest. As You Like It  Shakespeare homepage  |  As You Like It  | Act 3, Scene 2 

 Previous scene  |  Next scene  SCENE II. The forest. 

 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 witness'd every where. 

 Run, run, Orlando; carve on every tree 

 The fair, the chaste and unexpressive she. 



 Exit 

 Enter CORIN and TOUCHSTONE  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 

 is it 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 

 behavior 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, with a paper, reading  ROSALIND  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 fair 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. 

 Winter 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 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'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, 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 fill'd 

 With all graces wide-enlarged: 

 Nature presently distill'd 

 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 pulpiter! 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. 



 Exeunt CORIN and TOUCHSTONE  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. I was never so be-rhymed 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 hooping! 

 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 

 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 

 him 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. 

 CELIA  You bring me out. Soft! comes he not here? 



 Enter ORLANDO and JAQUES  ROSALIND  'Tis he: slink by, and note him. 

 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. 

 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. 

 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 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 'twas 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. 

 ORLANDO  'Tis 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. 

 JAQUES  I'll tarry no longer with you: farewell, good 

 Signior Love. 

 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; 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'll tell you who Time ambles 

 withal, who Time trots withal, who Time gallops 

 withal and who he stands still withal. 

 ORLANDO  I prithee, who doth he trot withal? 

 ROSALIND  Marry, he trots hard with a young maid 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 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. 

 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. 

 ORLANDO  Where dwell you, pretty youth? 

 ROSALIND  With this shepherdess, my sister; here in the 

 skirts of the forest, like fringe upon a petticoat. 

 ORLANDO  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 dwelling. 

 ROSALIND  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 touched with so many 

 giddy offences as he hath generally taxed their 

 whole sex withal. 

 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 seeming 

 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 '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. 

 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. 

 ORLANDO  What were his marks? 

 ROSALIND  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 ungartered, your 

 bonnet unbanded, your sleeve unbuttoned, 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. 

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

 ROSALIND  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? 

 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? 

 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 madmen 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 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 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 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 me 

 where it is. 

 ROSALIND  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? 

 ORLANDO  With all my heart, good youth. 

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



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