# Shakespeare - First Folio facsimile (1910)/As You Like It/Act 4 Scene 1

Actus Quartus. Scena Prima.
Enter Rosalind, and Celia, and Iaques.
Iaq.
I prethee, pretty youth, let me better acquainted with thee.
Ros.
They say you are a melancholly fellow.
Iaq.
I am so: I doe loue it better then laughing.
Ros.
Those that are in extremity of either, are abhominable fellowes, and betray themselues to euery moderne censure, worse then drunkards.
Iaq.
Why, 'tis good to be sad and say nothing.
Ros.
Why then 'tis good to be a poste.
Iaq.
I haue neither the Schollers melancholy, which is emulation: nor the Musitians, which is fantasticall; nor the Courtiers, which is proud: nor the Souldiers, which is ambitious: nor the Lawiers, which is politick: nor the Ladies, which is nice: nor the Louers, which is all these: but it is a melancholy of mine owne, compounded of many simples, extracted from many obiects, and indeed the sundrie contemplation of my trauells, in which by often rumination, wraps me in a most humorous sadnesse.
Ros.
A Traueller: by my faith you haue great reason to be sad: I feare you haue sold your owne Lands, to see other mens; then to haue seene much, and to haue nothing, is to haue rich eyes and poore hands.
Iaq.
Yes, I haue gain'd my experience.
Enter Orlando.
And your experience makes you sad: I had rather haue a foole to make me merrie, then experience to make me sad, and to trauaile for it too.
Orl.
Good day, and happinesse, deere Rosalind.
Iaq.
Nay then God buy you, and you talke in blanke verse.
Ros.
Farewell Mounsieur Trauellor: looke you lispe, and weare strange suites; disable all the benefits of your owne Countrie: be out of loue with your natiuitie, and almost chide God for making you that countenance you are; or I will scarce thinke you haue swam in a Gundello. Why how now Orlando, where haue you bin all this while? you a louer? and you serue me such another tricke, neuer come in my sight more.
Orl.
My faire Rosalind, I come within an houre of my promise.
Ros.
Breake an houres promise in loue? hee that will diuide a minute into a thousand parts, and breake but a part of the thousand part of a minute in the affairs of loue, it may be said of him that Cupid hath clapt him oth'shoulder, but Ile warrant him heart hole.
Orl.
Pardon me deere Rosalind.
Ros.
Nay, and you be so tardie, come no more in my sight, I had as liefe be woo'd of a Snaile.
Orl.
Of a Snaile?
Ros.
I, of a Snaile: for though he comes slowly, hee carries his house on his head; a better ioyncture I thinke then you make a woman: besides, he brings his destinie with him.
Orl.
What's that?
Ros.
Why hornes: which such as you are faine to be beholding to your wiues for: but he comes armed in his fortune, and preuents the slander of his wife.
Orl. Vertue is no horne-maker: and my Rosalind is vertuous.
Ros. And I am your Rosalind.
Cel. It pleases him to call you so: but he hath a Rosalind of a better leere then you.
Ros. Come, wooe me, wooe mee: for now I am in a holy-day humor, and like enough to consent: What would you say to me now, and I were your verie, verie Rosalind?
Orl. I would kisse before I spoke.
Ros. Nay, you were better speake first, and when you were grauel'd, for lacke of matter, you might take occasion to kisse: verie good Orators when they are out, they will spit, and for louers, lacking (God warne vs) matter, the cleanliest shift is to kisse.
Orl.
How if the kisse be denide?
Ros.
Then she puts you to entreatie, and there begins new matter.
Orl.
Who could be out, being before his beloued Mistris?
Ros.
Marrie that should you if I were your Mistris, or I should thinke my honestie ranker then my wit.
Orl.
What, of my suite?
Ros.
Not out of your apparrell, and yet out of your suite:
Am not I your Rosalind?
Orl.
I take some ioy to say you are, because I would be talking of her.
Ros.
Well, in her person, I say I will not haue you.
Orl.
Then in mine owne person, I die.
Ros.
No faith, die by Attorney: the poore world is almost six thousand yeeres old, and in all this time there was not anie man died in his owne person (videlicet) in a loue cause: Troilous had his braines dash'd out with a Grecian club, yet he did what hee could to die before, and he is one of the patternes of loue. Leander, he would haue liu'd manie a faire yeere though Hero had turn'd Nun; if it had not bin for a hot Midsomer-night, for (good youth) he went but forth to wash him in the Hellespont, and being taken with the crampe, was droun'd, and the foolish Chronoclers of that age, found it was Hero of Cestos. But these are all lies, men haue died from time to time, and wormes haue eaten them, but not for loue.
Orl.
I would not haue my right Rosalind of this mind, for I protest her frowne might kill me.
Ros.
By this hand, it will not kill a flie: but come, now I will be your Rosalind in a more comming-on disposition: and aske me what you will, I will grant it.
Orl.
Then loue me Rosalind.
Ros.
Yes faith will I, fridaies and saterdaies, and all.
Orl.
And wilt thou haue me?
Ros.
I, and twentie such.
Orl.
What saiest thou?
Ros.
Are you not good?
Orl.
I hope so.
Rosalind.
Why then, can one desire too much of a good thing: Come sister, you shall be the Priest, and marrie vs: giue me your hand Orlando: What doe you say sister?
Orl.
Pray thee marrie vs.
Cel.
I cannot say the words.
Ros.
You must begin, will you Orlando.
Cel.
Goe too: wil you Orlando, haue to wife this Rosalind?
Orl.
I will.
Ros.
I, but when?
Orl.
Why now, as fast as she can marrie vs.
Ros.
Then you must say, I take thee Rosalind for wife.
Orl.
I take thee Rosalind for wife.
Ros.
I might aske you for your Commission, But I doe take thee Orlando for my husband: there's a girle goes before the Priest, and certainely a Womans thought runs before her actions.
Orl.
So do all thoughts, they are wing'd.
Ros.
Now tell me how long you would haue her, after you haue possest her?
Orl.
For euer, and a day.
Ros.
Say a day, without the euer: no, no Orlando, men are Aprill when they woe, December when they wed: Maides are May when they are maides, but the sky changes when they are wiues: I will bee more iealous of thee, then a Barbary cocke-pidgeon ouer his hen, more clamorous then a Parrat against raine, more new-fangled then an ape, more giddy in my desires, then a monkey: I will weepe for nothing, like Diana in the Fountaine, & I wil do that when you are dispos'd to be merry: I will laugh like a Hyen, and that when thou art inclin'd to sleepe.
Orl.
But will my Rosalind doe so?
Ros.
By my life, she will doe as I doe.
Orl.
O but she is wise.
Ros.
Or else shee could not haue the wit to doe this: the wiser, the waywarder: make the doores vpon a womans wit, and it will out at the casement: shut that, and'twill out at the key-hole: stop that,'twill flie with the smoake out at the chimney.
Orl.
A man that had a wife with such a wit, he might say, wit whether wil't? Ros. Nay, you might keepe that checke for it, till you met your wiues wit going to your neighbours bed.
Orl.
And what wit could wit haue, to excuse that?
Rosa.
Marry to say, she came to seeke you there: you shall neuer take her without her answer, vnlesse you take her without her tongue: o that woman that cannot make her fault her husbands occasion, let her neuer nurse her childe her selfe, for she will breed it like a foole.
Orl.
For these two houres Rosalinde, I wil leaue thee.
Ros.
Alas, deere loue, I cannot lacke thee two houres.
Orl.
I must attend the Duke at dinner, by two a clock I will be with thee againe.
Ros.
I, goe your waies, goe your waies: I knew what you would proue, my friends told mee as much, and I thought no lesse: that flattering tongue of yours wonne me: 'tis but one cast away, and so come death: two o'clocke is your howre.
Orl.
I, sweet Rosalind.
Ros.
By my troth, and in good earnest, and so God mend mee, and by all pretty oathes that are not dangerous, if you breake one iot of your promise, or come one minute behinde your houre, I will thinke you the most patheticall breake-promise, and the most hollow louer, and the most vnworthy of her you call Rosalinde, that may bee chosen out of the grosse band of the vnfaithfull: therefore beware my censure, and keep your promise.
Orl.
With no lesse religion, then if thou wert indeed my Rosalind: so adieu.
Ros.
Well, Time is the olde Iustice that examines all such offenders, and let time try: adieu. Exit.
Cel.
You haue simply misus'd our sexe in your
loue-prate: we must haue your doublet and hose pluckt ouer your head, and shew the world what the bird hath done to her owne neast.
Ros. O coz, coz, coz: my pretty little coz, that thou didst know how many fathome deepe I am in loue: but it cannot bee sounded: my affection hath an vnknowne bottome, like the Bay of Portugall.
Cel. Or rather bottomlesse, that as fast as you poure affection in, it runs out.
Ros. No, that same wicked Bastard of Venus, that was begot of thought, conceiu'd of spleene, and borne of madnesse, that blinde rascally boy, that abuses euery ones eyes, because his owne are out, let him bee iudge, how deepe I am in loue: ile tell thee Aliena, I cannot be out of the sight of Orlando: Ile goe finde a shadow, and sigh till he come.
Cel. And Ile sleepe.Exeunt.
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