The Complete Works of William Shakespeare: Illustrated edition (37 plays, 160 sonnets and 5 Poetry Books With Active Table of Contents). William Shakespeare
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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.
Phe.
Youth, you have done me much ungentleness,
To show the letter that I writ to you.
Ros.
I care not if I have. It is my study
To seem despiteful and ungentle to you.
You are there followed by a faithful shepherd—
Look upon him, love him; he worships you.
Phe.
Good shepherd, tell this youth what ’tis to love.
Sil.
It is to be all made of sighs and tears,
And so am I for Phebe.
Phe.
And I for Ganymed.
Orl.
And I for Rosalind.
Ros.
And I for no woman.
Sil.
It is to be all made of faith and service,
And so am I for Phebe.
Phe.
And I for Ganymed.
Orl.
And I for Rosalind.
Ros.
And I for no woman.
Sil.
It is to be all made of fantasy,
All made of passion, and all made of wishes,
All adoration, duty, and observance,
All humbleness, all patience, and impatience,
All purity, all trial, all observance;
And so am I for Phebe.
Phe.
And so am I for Ganymed.
Orl.
And so am I for Rosalind.
Ros.
And so am I for no woman.
Phe.
If this be so, why blame you me to love you?
Sil.
If this be so, why blame you me to love you?
Orl.
If this be so, why blame you me to love you?
Ros. Why do you speak too, “Why blame you me to love you?”
Orl. To her that is not here, nor doth not hear.
Ros. 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.
Sil. I’ll not fail, if I live.
Phe. Nor I.
Orl. Nor I.
Exeunt.
¶
Scene III
Enter Clown [Touchstone] and Audrey.
Touch. To-morrow is the joyful day, Audrey, to- morrow will we be married.
Aud. I do desire it with all my heart; and I hope it is no dishonest desire to desire to be a woman of the world. Here come two of the banish’d Duke’s pages.
Enter two Pages.
1. Page. Well met, honest gentleman.
Touch. By my troth, well met. Come, sit, sit, and a song.
2. Page. We are for you, sit i’ th’ middle.
1. Page. Shall we clap into’t roundly, without hawking or spitting or saying we are hoarse, which are the only prologues to a bad voice?
2. Page. I’ faith, i’ faith, and both in a tune, like two gipsies on a horse.
Song
It was a lover and his lass,
With a hey, and a ho, and a hey nonino,
That o’er the green corn-field did pass,
In spring time, the only pretty [ring] time,
When birds do sing, hey ding a ding, ding,
Sweet lovers love the spring.
Between the acres of the rye,
With a hey, and a ho, and a hey nonino,
These pretty country folks would lie,
In spring time, etc.
This carol they began that hour,
With a hey, and a ho, and a hey nonino,
How that a life was but a flower,
In spring time, etc.
And therefore take the present time,
With a hey, and a ho, and a hey nonino,
For love is crowned with the prime,
In spring time, etc.
Touch. Truly, young gentlemen, though there was no great matter in the ditty, yet the note was very untuneable.
1. Page. You are deceiv’d, sir, we kept time, we lost not our time.
Touch. By my troth, yes; I count it but time lost to hear such a foolish song. God buy you, and God mend your voices! Come, Audrey.
Exeunt.
¶
Scene IV
Enter Duke Senior, Amiens, Jaques, Orlando, Oliver, Celia.
Duke S.
Dost thou believe, Orlando, that the boy
Can do all this that he hath promised?
Orl.
I sometimes do believe, and sometimes do not,
As those that fear they hope, and know they fear.
Enter Rosalind, Silvius, and Phebe.
Ros.