As You Like It, Act 5, Scene 4

Dost thou believe, Orlando, that the boy Can do all this that he hath promised?

Do you believe, Orlando, that the boy can do everything he has promised?

I sometimes do believe and sometimes do not, As those that fear they hope, and know they fear.

Sometimes I believe it and sometimes I don't, like people who are afraid of their own hope and are certain only of their fear.

Patience once more whiles our compact is urged. [To the Duke.] You say, if I bring in your Rosalind, You will bestow her on Orlando here?

Be patient a little longer while our agreement is gone over. [To the Duke.] You say that if I produce your Rosalind, you will give her to Orlando here?

That would I, had I kingdoms to give with her.

I would, even if I had kingdoms to give along with her.

[To Orlando.] And you say you will have her when I bring her?

[To Orlando.] And you say you will take her when I bring her?

That would I, were I of all kingdoms king.

I would, even if I were king of all kingdoms.

[To Phoebe.] You say you’ll marry me if I be willing?

[To Phoebe.] You say you'll marry me if I'm willing?

That will I, should I die the hour after.

I will, even if I died an hour afterwards.

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

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

So is the bargain.

That's the bargain.

[To Silvius.] You say that you’ll have Phoebe if she will?

[To Silvius.] You say that you'll take Phoebe if she's willing?

Though to have her and death were both one thing.

I would, even if having her and dying were the same thing.

I have promised 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, Phoebe, 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.

I have promised to settle this whole business. Keep your word, Duke, to give away your daughter. Keep yours, Orlando, to receive his daughter. Keep your word, Phoebe, that you'll marry me, or, if you refuse me, marry this shepherd. Keep your word, Silvius, that you'll marry her if she refuses me. And now I'm going away from here to settle all these uncertainties.

I do remember in this shepherd boy Some lively touches of my daughter’s favour.

I recall seeing in this shepherd boy some vivid traces of my daughter's looks.

My lord, the first time that I ever saw him Methought he was a brother to your daughter. But, my good lord, this boy is forest-born And hath been tutored in the rudiments Of many desperate studies by his uncle, Whom he reports to be a great magician, Obscured in the circle of this forest.

My lord, the first time I ever saw him I thought he was a brother of your daughter's. But, my good lord, this boy was born in the forest, and he has been taught the first principles of many dangerous studies by his uncle, whom he says is a great magician, hidden away within the circle of this forest.

There is sure another flood toward, and these couples are coming to the ark. Here comes a pair of very strange beasts, which in all tongues are called fools.

There's certainly another flood on the way, and these couples are coming to the ark. Here come a pair of very strange animals, which in every language are called fools.

Salutation and greeting to you all.

Greetings and good wishes to you all.

Good my lord, bid him welcome. This is the motley-minded gentleman that I have so often met in the forest. He hath been a courtier, he swears.

My good lord, make him welcome. This is the jester-minded gentleman I've met so often in the forest. He swears he has been a courtier.

If any man doubt that, let him put me to my purgation. I have trod a measure; I have flattered a lady; I have been politic with my friend, smooth with mine enemy; I have undone three tailors; I have had four quarrels, and like to have fought one.

If anyone doubts it, let him test me and let me clear myself. I have danced a stately dance; I have flattered a lady; I have been crafty with my friend and smooth with my enemy; I have ruined three tailors; I have had four quarrels, and nearly fought one of them.

And how was that ta’en up?

And how was that one settled?

Faith, we met, and found the quarrel was upon the seventh cause.

Honestly, we met, and found the quarrel was only at the seventh cause.

How seventh cause?—Good my lord, like this fellow?

How, the seventh cause?—My good lord, do you like this fellow?

I like him very well.

I like him very much.

God ’ild you, sir, I desire you of the like. I press in here, sir, amongst the rest of the country copulatives, to swear and to forswear according as marriage binds and blood breaks. A poor virgin, sir, an ill-favoured thing, sir, but mine own; a poor humour of mine, sir, to take that that no man else will. Rich honesty dwells like a miser, sir, in a poor house, as your pearl in your foul oyster.

God reward you, sir, I wish the same for you. I'm pushing in here, sir, among the rest of these country couples, to make vows and break them as marriage ties us and desire snaps the tie. A poor virgin, sir, an ugly thing, sir, but my own; a poor whim of mine, sir, to take what no one else will have. Rich chastity lives, sir, like a miser in a shabby house, the way a pearl sits in a filthy oyster.

By my faith, he is very swift and sententious.

I swear, he is very quick and full of wise sayings.

According to the fool’s bolt, sir, and such dulcet diseases.

As quick as a fool's arrow, sir, and such sweet ailments.

But, for the seventh cause. How did you find the quarrel on the seventh cause?

But about that seventh cause. How did you find the quarrel was at the seventh cause?

Upon a lie seven times removed—bear your body more seeming, Audrey—as thus, sir. I did dislike the cut of a certain courtier’s beard. He sent me word if I said his beard was not cut well, he was in the mind it was. This is called the “retort courteous”. If I sent him word again it was not well cut, he would send me word he cut it to please himself. This is called the “quip modest”. If again it was not well cut, he disabled my judgement. This is called the “reply churlish”. If again it was not well cut, he would answer I spake not true. This is called the “reproof valiant”. If again it was not well cut, he would say I lie. This is called the “countercheck quarrelsome”, and so, to the “lie circumstantial”, and the “lie direct”.

It was over a lie at seven removes—hold yourself more properly, Audrey—like this, sir. I found fault with the trim of a certain courtier's beard. He sent word to me that if I said his beard was not well cut, he thought it was. This is called the "courteous retort." If I sent word back that it was not well cut, he would send word that he cut it to suit himself. This is called the "modest quip." If I said again that it was not well cut, he dismissed my judgement. This is called the "rude reply." If I said again it was not well cut, he would answer that I was not telling the truth. This is called the "brave reproof." If again it was not well cut, he would say I was lying. This is called the "quarrelsome countercheck," and so on to the "indirect lie" and the "direct lie."

And how oft did you say his beard was not well cut?

And how many times did you say his beard was not well cut?

I durst go no further than the lie circumstantial, nor he durst not give me the lie direct; and so we measured swords and parted.

I dared go no further than the indirect lie, and he didn't dare give me the direct lie; and so we compared the lengths of our swords and went our separate ways.

Can you nominate in order now the degrees of the lie?

Can you list the degrees of the lie in order now?

O sir, we quarrel in print, by the book, as you have books for good manners. I will name you the degrees: the first, the retort courteous; the second, the quip modest; the third, the reply churlish; the fourth, the reproof valiant; the fifth, the countercheck quarrelsome; the sixth, the lie with circumstance; the seventh, the lie direct. All these you may avoid but the lie direct and you may avoid that too with an “if”. I knew when seven justices could not take up a quarrel, but when the parties were met themselves, one of them thought but of an “if”, as, “if you said so, then I said so;” and they shook hands, and swore brothers. Your “if” is the only peacemaker; much virtue in “if.”

Oh sir, we quarrel by the printed rules, by the book, just as there are books for good manners. I'll name you the degrees: the first, the courteous retort; the second, the modest quip; the third, the rude reply; the fourth, the brave reproof; the fifth, the quarrelsome countercheck; the sixth, the lie with circumstance; the seventh, the direct lie. You can dodge all of these except the direct lie, and you can dodge that one too with an "if." I have known a case where seven judges could not settle a quarrel, but when the two parties met face to face, one of them simply thought of an "if," like, "if you said so, then I said so"; and they shook hands and swore to be brothers. Your "if" is the only peacemaker; there's great power in "if."

Is not this a rare fellow, my lord? He’s as good at anything, and yet a fool.

Isn't this an unusual fellow, my lord? He's equally good at everything, and yet he's a fool.

He uses his folly like a stalking-horse, and under the presentation of that he shoots his wit.

He uses his foolery as a screen to creep up behind, and from behind that show he shoots his wit.

Then is there mirth in heaven When earthly things made even Atone together. Good Duke, receive thy daughter. Hymen from heaven brought her, Yea, brought her hither, That thou mightst join her hand with his, Whose heart within his bosom is.

There is joy in heaven when things on earth are set right and are reconciled with one another. Good Duke, receive your daughter. Hymen brought her from heaven, yes, brought her here, so that you could join her hand with the hand of the man whose heart is in her breast.

[To Duke Senior.] To you I give myself, for I am yours. [To Orlando.] To you I give myself, for I am yours.

[To Duke Senior.] I give myself to you, for I am yours. [To Orlando.] I give myself to you, for I am yours.

If there be truth in sight, you are my daughter.

If my eyes tell the truth, you are my daughter.

If there be truth in sight, you are my Rosalind.

If my eyes tell the truth, you are my Rosalind.

If sight and shape be true, Why then, my love adieu.

If what I see and this shape are real, then goodbye to my love.

[To Duke Senior.] I’ll have no father, if you be not he. [To Orlando.] I’ll have no husband, if you be not he. [To Phoebe.] Nor ne’er wed woman, if you be not she.

[To Duke Senior.] I'll have no father, if you are not he. [To Orlando.] I'll have no husband, if you are not he. [To Phoebe.] And I'll never marry a woman, if you are not she.

Peace, ho! I bar confusion. ’Tis I must make conclusion Of these most strange events. Here’s eight that must take hands To join in Hymen’s bands, If truth holds true contents. [To Orlando and Rosalind.] You and you no cross shall part. [To Celia and Oliver.] You and you are heart in heart. [To Phoebe.] You to his love must accord Or have a woman to your lord. [To Audrey and Touchstone.] You and you are sure together As the winter to foul weather. Whiles a wedlock hymn we sing, Feed yourselves with questioning, That reason wonder may diminish How thus we met, and these things finish.

Quiet, there! I forbid all confusion. It's I who must bring these very strange events to their conclusion. Here are eight who must join hands in Hymen's bonds, if truth keeps its promises. [To Orlando and Rosalind.] Nothing shall come between you two. [To Celia and Oliver.] You two are heart to heart. [To Phoebe.] You must agree to his love, or take a woman for your husband. [To Audrey and Touchstone.] You two are as certainly tied together as winter is to bad weather. While we sing a wedding hymn, satisfy yourselves with asking questions, so that understanding may lessen your amazement at how we came together here and how all this ends.

Wedding is great Juno’s crown, O blessed bond of board and bed. ’Tis Hymen peoples every town, High wedlock then be honoured. Honour, high honour, and renown To Hymen, god of every town.

Marriage is great Juno's crown, oh blessed bond of table and bed. It is Hymen who fills every town with people, so let high marriage be honoured. Honour, high honour, and fame to Hymen, god of every town.

O my dear niece, welcome thou art to me Even daughter, welcome in no less degree.

Oh my dear niece, you are welcome to me; welcome just as much as a daughter.

[To Silvius.] I will not eat my word, now thou art mine, Thy faith my fancy to thee doth combine.

[To Silvius.] I won't take back my word, now that you are mine; your faithfulness binds my love to you.

Let me have audience for a word or two. I am the second son of old Sir Rowland, That bring these tidings to this fair assembly. Duke Frederick, hearing how that every day Men of great worth resorted to this forest, Addressed a mighty power, which were on foot In his own conduct, purposely to take His brother here and put him to the sword; And to the skirts of this wild wood he came, Where, meeting with an old religious man, After some question with him, was converted Both from his enterprise and from the world, His crown bequeathing to his banished brother, And all their lands restored to them again That were with him exiled. This to be true I do engage my life.

Let me be heard for a word or two. I am old Sir Rowland's second son, and I bring this news to this fine gathering. Duke Frederick, hearing that men of great standing were flocking to this forest every day, assembled a large army, which marched out under his own command, with the express purpose of seizing his brother here and putting him to the sword. He came to the edges of this wild wood, and there he met an old holy man; after some talk with him he was turned away both from his campaign and from the world, leaving his crown to his banished brother and restoring all their lands to everyone who had been exiled with him. I stake my life that this is true.

Welcome, young man. Thou offer’st fairly to thy brother’s wedding: To one his lands withheld, and to the other A land itself at large, a potent dukedom. First, in this forest let us do those ends That here were well begun and well begot; And after, every of this happy number That have endured shrewd days and nights with us Shall share the good of our returned fortune, According to the measure of their states. Meantime, forget this new-fall’n dignity, And fall into our rustic revelry. Play, music! And you brides and bridegrooms all, With measure heaped in joy to th’ measures fall.

Welcome, young man. You bring handsome gifts to your brothers' wedding: to one, the lands that were kept from him, and to the other, a whole country, a powerful dukedom. First, here in this forest let us complete the business that was so well begun and so well brought about here; and afterwards, every one of this happy company who has endured harsh days and nights with us shall share in the good of our restored fortune, each according to his rank. In the meantime, let us forget this honour that has just fallen to us, and throw ourselves into our country festivity. Play, music! And all you brides and bridegrooms, with joy heaped up to the brim, fall into the dances.

Sir, by your patience. If I heard you rightly, The Duke hath put on a religious life And thrown into neglect the pompous court.

Sir, with your permission. If I heard you correctly, the Duke has taken up a religious life and has turned his back on the splendid court.

He hath.

He has.

To him will I. Out of these convertites There is much matter to be heard and learned. [To Duke Senior.] You to your former honour I bequeath; Your patience and your virtue well deserves it. [To Orlando.] You to a love that your true faith doth merit. [To Oliver.] You to your land, and love, and great allies. [To Silvius.] You to a long and well-deserved bed. [To Touchstone.] And you to wrangling, for thy loving voyage Is but for two months victualled.—So to your pleasures, I am for other than for dancing measures.

I'll go to him. From these converted men there is much to hear and learn. [To Duke Senior.] I leave you to your former position of honour; your patience and your goodness thoroughly deserve it. [To Orlando.] You I leave to a love that your true faithfulness deserves. [To Oliver.] You to your land, and your love, and your powerful connections. [To Silvius.] You to a long and well-earned marriage bed. [To Touchstone.] And you to squabbling, for your loving voyage is only stocked with supplies for two months.—So, go to your amusements. I'm made for something other than dancing.

Stay, Jaques, stay.

Wait, Jaques, wait.

To see no pastime, I. What you would have I’ll stay to know at your abandoned cave.

Not to watch entertainments, not I. Whatever you want to say, I'll wait to hear it at the cave you've left behind.

Proceed, proceed! We will begin these rites, As we do trust they’ll end, in true delights.

Go on, go on! We will begin these ceremonies, as we trust they will end, in true delight.