# Shakespeare - First Folio facsimile (1910)/As You Like It/Act 3 Scene 3

Scœna Tertia.
Enter Clowne, Audrey, & Iaques.
Clo. Come apace good Audrey, I wil fetch vp your Goates, Audrey: and how Audrey am I the man yet? Doth my simple feature content you?
Aud. Your features, Lord warrant vs: what features?
Clo. I am heere with thee, and thy Goats, as the most capricious Poet honest Ouid was among the Gothes.
Iaq. O knowledge ill inhabited, worse then Ioue in a thatch'd house.
Clo. When a mans verses cannot be vnderstood, nor a mans good wit seconded with the forward childe, vnderstanding: it strikes a man more dead then a great reckoning in a little roome: truly, I would the Gods hadde made thee poeticall.
Aud. I do not know what Poetical is: is it honest in deed and word: is it a true thing?
Clo. No trulie: for the truest poetrie is the most faining, and Louers are giuen to Poetrie: and what they sweare in Poetrie, may be said as Louers, they do feigne.
Aud. Do you wish then that the Gods had made me Poeticall?
Clow. I do truly: for thou swear'st to me thou art honest: Now if thou wert a Poet, I might haue some hope thou didst feigne
Aud. Would you not haue me honest?
Clo.
No truly, vnlesse thou wert hard fauour'd: for honestie coupled to beautie, is to haue Honie a sawce to Sugar.
Iaq.
A materiall foole.
Aud.
Well, I am not faire, and therefore I pray the Gods make me honest.
Clo.
Truly, and to cast away honestie vppon a foule slut, were to put good meate into an vncleane dish.
Aud.
I am not a slut, though I thanke the Goddes I am foule
Clo.
Well, praised be the Gods, for thy foulnesse; sluttishnesse may come heereafter. But be it, as it may bee, I wil marrie thee: and to that end, I haue bin with Sir Oliuer Mar-text, the Vicar of the next village, who hath promis'd to meete me in this place of the Forrest, and to couple vs.
Iaq.
I would faine see this meeting.
Aud.
Wel, the Gods giue vs ioy.
Clo.
Amen. A man may if he were of a fearful heart, stagger in this attempt: for heere wee haue no Temple but the wood, no assembly but horne-beasts. But what though? Courage. As hornes are odious, they are necessarie. It is said, many a man knowes no end of his goods; right: Many a man has good Hornes, and knows no end of them. Well, that is the dowrie of his wife, 'tis none of his owne getting; hornes, euen so poore men alone: No, no, the noblest Deere hath them as huge as the Rascall: Is the single man therefore blessed? No, as a wall'd Towne is more worthier then a village, so is the forehead of a married man, more honourable then the bare brow of a Batcheller: and by how much defence is better then no skill, by so much is a horne more precious then to want.
Enter Sir Oliuer Mar-text.
Ol.
Is there none heere to giue the woman?
Clo.
I wil not take her on guift of any man.
Ol.
Truly she must be giuen, or the marriage is not lawfull.
Iaq.
Proceed, proceede: Ile giue her.
Clo.
Good euen good Mr what ye cal't: how do you Sir, you are verie well met: goddild you for your last companie, I am verie glad to see you, euen a toy in hand heere Sir: Nay, pray be couer'd.
Iaq.
Wil you be married, Motley?
Clo.
As the Oxe hath his bow sir, the horse his curb, and the Falcon her bels, so man hath his desires, and as Pigeons bill, so wedlocke would be nibling.
Iaq.
And wil you (being a man of your breeding) be married vnder a bush like a begger? Get you to church, and haue a good Priest that can tel you what marriage is, this fellow wil but ioyne you together, as they ioyne Wainscot, then one of you wil proue a shrunke pannell, and like greene timber, warpe, warpe.
Clo.
I am not in the minde, but I were better to bee married of him then of another, for he is not like to marrie me wel: and not being wel married, it wil be a good excuse for me heereafter, to leaue my wife.
Iaq.
Goe thou with mee,
And let me counsel thee.
Ol.
Come sweete Audrey,
We must be married, or we must liue in baudrey: Farewel good Mr Oliuer: Not O sweet Oliuer, O braue Oliuer leaue me not behind thee: But winde away, bee gone I say, I wil not to wedding with thee.
Ol. 'Tis no matter; Ne're a fantastical knaue of them all shal flout me out of my calling. Exeunt.
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