As You Like It
Brothers at Arms
Oliver Now, sir, what make you here?Orlando Nothing. I am not taught to make anything.Oliver What mar you then, sir?Orlando Marry, sir, I am helping you to mar that which God made, a poor unworthy brother of yours, with idleness. …Adam Sweet masters, be patient. For your father’s remembrance, be at accord.Oliver Let me go, I say.Orlando I will not till I please. You shall hear me. My father charged you in his will to give me good education. You have trained me like a peasant, obscuring and hiding from me all gentleman-like qualities. The spirit of my father grows strong in me, and I will no longer endure it!
No News, But the Old News
Charles
Good morrow to your worship.
Oliver
Good Monsieur Charles. What’s the new news at the new court?
Charles
There’s no news at the court, sir, but the old news: that is, the old Duke is banished by his younger brother the new Duke, and three or four loving lords have put themselves into voluntary exile with him, whose lands and revenues enrich the new Duke; therefore he gives them good leave to wander.
Oliver
Can you tell if Rosalind, the Duke’s daughter, be banished with her father?
Charles
O no; for the Duke’s daughter, her cousin, so loves her, being ever from their cradles bred together, that she would have followed her exile or have died to stay behind her. She is at the court and no less beloved of her uncle than his own daughter, and never two ladies loved as they do.
Oliver
Where will the old Duke live?
Charles
They say he is already in the Forest of Arden and a many merry men with him, and there they live like the old Robin Hood of England. They say many young gentlemen flock to him every day and fleet the time carelessly as they did in the golden world.
Oliver
What, you wrestle tomorrow before the new Duke?
Charles
Marry, do I, sir, and I came to acquaint you with a matter. I am given, sir, secretly to understand that your younger brother Orlando hath a disposition to come in disguised against me to try a fall. Tomorrow, sir, I wrestle for my credit, and he that escapes me without some broken limb shall acquit him well.
Hercules Be Thy Speed
Charles
Come, where is this young gallant that is so desirous to lie with his mother earth?
Orlando
Ready, sir, but his will hath in it a more modest working. … You mean to mock me after; you should not have mocked me before. But come your ways.
Rosalind
Now Hercules be thy speed, young man!
Celia
I would I were invisible, to catch the strong fellow by the leg.
[Orlando and Charles wrestle.]
Rosalind
O excellent young man!
Celia
If I had a thunderbolt in mine eye I can tell who should down.
[Shout. Charles is thrown.]
Rosalind
Gentleman,
[giving him a chain from her neck]
Wear this for me — one out of suits with fortune, That could give more but that her hand lacks means. Shall we go, coz?
Celia
Ay. — Fare you well, fair gentleman.
Orlando
Can I not say, I thank you? My better parts Are all thrown down, and that which here stands up Is but a quintain, a mere lifeless block.
Rosalind
Sir, you have wrestled well and overthrown More than your enemies. …
Orlando
What passion hangs these weights upon my tongue? I cannot speak to her, yet she urged conference. O poor Orlando, thou art overthrown! Or Charles or something weaker masters thee.
Thy Father’s Daughter
Duke Frederick
Mistress, dispatch you with your safest haste And get you from our court.
Rosalind
Me, uncle?
Duke Frederick
You, cousin. Within these ten days if that thou be’st found So near our public court as twenty miles, Thou diest for it.
Rosalind
I do beseech your grace, … Never so much as in a thought unborn Did I offend your highness.
Duke Frederick
Thus do all traitors. If their purgation did consist in words, They are as innocent as grace itself. Let it suffice thee that I trust thee not.
Rosalind
Yet your mistrust cannot make me a traitor. Tell me whereon the likelihoods depends?
Duke Frederick
Thou art thy father’s daughter, there’s enough.
A Swashing and Martial Outside
Rosalind
Why, whither shall we go?
Celia
To seek my uncle in the forest of Arden.
Rosalind
Alas, what danger will it be to us, Maids as we are, to travel forth so far! Beauty provoketh thieves sooner than gold.
Celia
I’ll put myself in poor and mean attire, And with a kind of umber smirch my face — The like do you; so shall we pass along And never stir assailants.
Rosalind
Were it not better, Because that I am more than common tall, That I did suit me all points like a man? A gallant curtal-axe upon my thigh, A boar-spear in my hand, and in my heart, Lie there what hidden woman’s fear there will, We’ll have a swashing and a martial outside, As many other mannish cowards have That do outface it with their semblances.
Celia
What shall I call thee when thou art a man?
Rosalind
I’ll have no worse a name than Jove’s own page, And therefore look you call me Ganymede. But what will you be called?
Celia
Something that hath a reference to my state: No longer Celia, but Aliena.
Sermons in Stones
Duke Senior
Now my co-mates and brothers in exile, Hath not old custom made this life more sweet Than that of painted pomp? Are not these woods More free from peril than the envious court? Here feel we not the penalty of Adam, The seasons’ difference — as the icy fang And churlish chiding of the winter’s wind, Which when it bites and blows upon my body Even till I shrink with cold, I smile and say: ‘This is no flattery. These are counsellors That feelingly persuade me what I am.’ Sweet are the uses of adversity, Which, like the toad, ugly and venomous, Wears yet a precious jewel in his head; And this our life, exempt from public haunt, Finds tongues in trees, books in the running brooks, Sermons in stones, and good in everything.
Amiens
I would not change it. Happy is your grace That can translate the stubbornness of fortune Into so quiet and so sweet a style.
Go on and I Will Follow Thee
Adam
Your virtues, gentle master, Are sanctified and holy traitors to you. O what a world is this, when what is comely Envenoms him that bears it!
Orlando
Why, what’s the matter?
Adam
O unhappy youth, Come not within these doors! Within this roof The enemy of all your graces lives. Your brother — … Hath heard your praises, and this night he means To burn the lodging where you use to lie, And you within it. If he fail of that He will have other means to cut you off; I overheard him and his practices. This is no place; this house is but a butchery. Abhor it, fear it, do not enter it!
Orlando
Why whither, Adam, wouldst thou have me go?
Adam
No matter whither so you come not here.
Adam
Master, go on and I will follow thee To the last gasp with truth and loyalty, From seventeen years till now almost fourscore Here live I, but now live here no more. At seventeen years many their fortunes seek, But at fourscore it is too late a week. Yet fortune cannot recompense me better Than to die well and not my master’s debtor.
All the World’s a Stage
Duke Senior
Thou seest we are not all alone unhappy. This wide and universal theatre Presents more woeful pageants than the scene Wherein we play in.
Jaques
All the world’s a stage, And all the men and women merely players. They have their exits and their entrances, And one man in his time plays many parts, His acts being seven ages. At first the infant, Mewling and puking in the nurse’s arms; Then the whining schoolboy, with his satchel And shining morning face, creeping like the snail Unwillingly to school; and then the lover, Sighing like furnace, with a woeful ballad Made to his mistress’ eyebrow; then a soldier, Full of strange oaths and bearded like the pard, Jealous in honour, sudden and quick in quarrel, Seeking the bubble reputation Even in the cannon’s mouth; and then the justice, In fair round belly with good capon lined, With eyes severe and beard of formal cut, Full of wise saws and modern instances; And so he plays his part. The sixth age shifts Into the lean and slippered pantaloon, With spectacles on nose and pouch on side, His youthful hose well saved, a world too wide For his shrunk shank, and his big manly voice, Turning again toward childish treble, pipes And whistles in his sound. Last scene of all, That ends this strange eventful history, Is second childishness and mere oblivion, Sans teeth, sans eyes, sans taste, sans everything.
Unto the Green Holly
Duke Senior
Welcome. Set down your venerable burden And let him feed.
Orlando
I thank you most for him.
Adam
So had you need; I scarce can speak to thank you for myself.
Duke Senior
Welcome, fall to. I will not trouble you As yet to question you about your fortunes. Give us some music, and good cousin, sing.
Amiens
Blow, blow thou winter wind, Thou art not so unkind As man’s ingratitude. Thy tooth is not so keen Because thou art not seen, Although thy breath be rude. Hey-ho, sing hey-ho, unto the green holly. Most friendship is feigning, most loving mere folly. Then hey-ho, the holly! This life is most jolly.
Carve on Every Tree
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 witnessed everywhere. Run, run, Orlando, carve on every tree The fair, the chaste and unexpressive she!
The Tree Yields Bad Fruit
Rosalind
[Reads.]
From the east to western Inde 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-woman’s rank to market. … 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. He that sweetest rose will find Must find love’s prick — and Rosalind.
Rosalind
Peace, you dull fool, I found them on a tree.
Touchstone
Truly, the tree yields bad fruit.
Did He Ask for Me?
Celia
[Reads.]
Therefore heaven Nature charged That one body should be filled With all graces wide-enlarged. Nature presently distilled 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.
Celia
But didst thou hear, without wondering, how thy name should be hanged and carved upon these trees? …
Rosalind
Is it a man? …
Celia
Orlando.
Rosalind
Alas the day, what shall I do with my doublet and hose? What did he when thou sawst him? What said he? How looked he? Wherein went he? What makes he 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.
Mar No More Trees
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 b’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.
Love is Merely a Madness
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 anything, as boys and women are for the most part cattle of this color; 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 humor of love to a living humor 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.
A Pageant Truly Played
Corin
If you will see a pageant truly played Between the pale complexion of true love And the red glow of scorn and proud disdain, …
Rosalind
Bring us to this sight, and you shall say I’ll prove a busy actor in their play.
Silvius
Sweet Phoebe, do not scorn me, do not, Phoebe. Say that you love me not, but say not so In bitterness. …
Phoebe
Thou tell’st me there is murder in mine eye. ’Tis pretty, sure, and very probable That eyes, that are the frail’st and softest things, Who shut their coward gates on atomies, Should be called tyrants, butchers, murderers. Now I do frown on thee with all my heart, And if mine eyes can wound, now let them kill thee. Now counterfeit to swoon — why now fall down!
Rosalind
But, mistress, know yourself. Down on your knees, And thank heaven, fasting, for a good man’s love; For I must tell you friendly in your ear: Sell when you can, you are not for all markets. …
Phoebe
Sweet youth, I pray you chide a year together! I had rather hear you chide than this man woo. …
Rosalind
I pray you do not fall in love with me, For I am falser than vows made in wine. …
Phoebe
Dead shepherd, now I find thy saw of might: ‘Who ever loved, that loved not at first sight?’
A Melancholy Fellow
Rosalind
They say you are a melancholy fellow.
Jaques
I am so; I do love it better than laughing.
Rosalind
Those that are in extremity of either are abominable fellows and betray themselves to every modern censure worse than drunkards.
Jaques
Why, ’tis good to be sad and say nothing.
Rosalind
Why then, ’tis good to be a post.
Jaques
I have neither the scholar’s melancholy, which is emulation; nor the musician’s, which is fantastical; nor the courtier’s, which is proud; nor the soldier’s, which is ambitious; nor the lawyer’s, which is politic; nor the lady’s, which is nice; nor the lover’s, which is all these; but it is a melancholy of mine own, compounded of many simples, extracted from many objects, and indeed the sundry contemplation of my travels, in which my often rumination wraps me in a most humorous sadness.
Rosalind
A traveller! By my faith, you have great reason to be sad. I fear you have sold your own lands to see other men’s. Then to have seen much and to have nothing is to have rich eyes and poor hands.
Jaques
Yes, I have gained my experience.
Rosalind
And your experience makes you sad. I had rather have a fool to make me merry than experience to make me sad — and to travel for it too.
A Mock Wedding
Rosalind
Am not I your Rosalind?
Orlando
I take some joy to say you are because I would be talking of her.
Rosalind
Well, in her person, I say I will not have you.
Orlando
Then, in mine own person, I die.
Rosalind
No, faith, die by attorney. The poor world is almost six thousand years old, and in all this time there was not any man died in his own person (videlicet, in a love-cause). Troilus had his brains dashed out with a Grecian club, yet he did what he could to die before, and he is one of the patterns of love. Leander, he would have lived many a fair year though Hero had turned nun, if it had not been for a hot midsummer night; for, good youth, he went but forth to wash him in the Hellespont and, being taken with the cramp, was drowned, and the foolish chroniclers of that age found it was Hero of Sestos. But these are all lies. Men have died from time to time and worms have eaten them, but not for love.
Orlando
I would not have my right Rosalind of this mind, for I protest her frown might kill me.
Rosalind Come, sister, you shall be the priest and marry us. What do you say, sister?Orlando Pray thee, marry us.Celia I cannot say the words.Rosalind You must begin: ‘Will you, Orlando —’Celia Go to. — Will you, Orlando, have to wife this Rosalind?Orlando I will.Rosalind Ay, but when?Orlando Why now, as fast as she can marry us.
Rosalind
Now tell me how long you would have her after you have possessed her?
Orlando
For ever and a day.
Rosalind
Say ‘a day’ without the ‘ever’. No, no, Orlando, men are April when they woo, December when they wed. Maids are May when they are maids, but the sky changes when they are wives. I will be more jealous of thee than a Barbary cock-pigeon over his hen, more clamorous than a parrot against rain, more new-fangled than an ape, more giddy in my desires than a monkey. I will weep for nothing, like Diana in the fountain, and I will do that when you are disposed to be merry. I will laugh like a hyena, and that when thou art inclined to sleep.
Orlando
But will my Rosalind do so?
Rosalind
By my life, she will do as I do.
Orlando
O, but she is wise.
Rosalind
Or else she could not have the wit to do this — the wiser, the waywarder. Make the doors upon a woman’s wit and it will out at the casement. Shut that and ’twill out at the keyhole. Stop that, ’twill fly with the smoke out at the chimney.
Orlando
A man that had a wife with such a wit, he might say, ‘Wit, whither wilt?’
Can a Woman Rail Thus?
Silvius
My errand is to you, fair youth, My gentle Phoebe did bid me give you this. …
Rosalind
She Phoebes me. Mark how the tyrant writes.
[Reads.]
Art thou god to shepherd turned, That a maiden’s heart hath burned?
Can a woman rail thus?
Silvius
Call you this railing?
Rosalind
[Reads.]
Why, thy godhead laid apart, Warr’st thou with a woman’s heart?
Did you ever hear such railing?
Whiles the eye of man did woo me, That could do no vengeance to me,
Meaning me a beast.
If the scorn of your bright eyne Have power to raise such love in mine, Alack, in me what strange effect Would they work in mild aspect? Whiles you chid me, I did love, How then might your prayers move? He that brings this love to thee Little knows this love in me; And by him seal up thy mind, Whether that thy youth and kind Will the faithful offer take Of me, and all that I can make, Or else by him my love deny, And then I’ll study how to die.
Silvius
Call you this chiding?
Celia
Alas, poor shepherd.
Rosalind
Do you pity him? No, he deserves no pity. — Wilt thou love such a woman? What, to make thee an instrument and play false strains upon thee? Not to be endured! Well, go your way to her, for I see love hath made thee a tame snake, and say this to her: that if she love me, I charge her to love thee. If she will not, I will never have her unless thou entreat for her.
The Bloody Napkin
Oliver
When last the young Orlando parted from you, He left a promise to return again Within an hour, and pacing through the forest, Chewing the food of sweet and bitter fancy, Lo, what befell. … A wretched ragged man, o’ergrown with hair, Lay sleeping on his back; … A lioness, with udders all drawn dry, Lay couching, head on ground, with catlike watch When that the sleeping man should stir. For ’tis The royal disposition of that beast To prey on nothing that doth seem as dead. This seen, Orlando did approach the man And found it was his brother, his elder brother. …
Rosalind
But to Orlando: did he leave him there, Food to the sucked and hungry lioness?
Oliver
Twice did he turn his back and purposed so; But kindness, nobler ever than revenge, And nature, stronger than his just occasion, Made him give battle to the lioness, Who quickly fell before him, in which hurtling From miserable slumber I awaked.
Celia
Are you his brother?
Rosalind
Was’t you he rescued?
Celia
Was’t you that did so oft contrive to kill him?
Oliver
’Twas I, but ’tis not I. I do not shame To tell you what I was, since my conversion So sweetly tastes, being the thing I am.
Rosalind
But for the bloody napkin?
Oliver
… I’brief, he led me to the gentle Duke Who gave me fresh array and entertainment, Committing me unto my brother’s love, Who led me instantly unto his cave; There stripped himself and here, upon his arm, The lioness had torn some flesh away; Which all this while had bled. And now he fainted, And cried in fainting upon Rosalind. Brief, I recovered him, bound up his wound, And after some small space, being strong at heart, He sent me hither, stranger as I am, To tell this story, that you might excuse His broken promise; and to give this napkin, Dyed in his blood, unto the shepherd youth That he in sport doth call his Rosalind.
[Rosalind faints.]
Oliver
Be of good cheer, youth. You a man? You lack a man’s heart.
Rosalind
I do so, I confess it. Ah, sirrah, a body would think this was well counterfeited. I pray you tell your brother how well I counterfeited. Heigh-ho —
Oliver
This was not counterfeit: there is too great testimony in your complexion that it was a passion of earnest.
Rosalind
Counterfeit, I assure you.
Oliver
Well then, take a good heart, and counterfeit to be a man.
Rosalind
So I do. But i’faith, I should have been a woman by right.
The Very Wrath of Love
Rosalind
O my dear Orlando, how it grieves me to see thee wear thy heart in a scarf!
Orlando
It is my arm.
Rosalind
I thought thy heart had been wounded with the claws of a lion.
Orlando
Wounded it is, but with the eyes of a lady.
Rosalind
Did your brother tell you how I counterfeited to swoon when he showed me your handkerchief?
Orlando
Ay, and greater wonders than that.
Rosalind
O, I know where you are. Nay, ’tis true. There was never anything so sudden but the fight of two rams, and Caesar’s thrasonical brag of ‘I came, saw and overcame.’ For your brother and my sister no sooner met but they looked; no sooner looked but they loved; no sooner loved but they sighed; no sooner sighed but they asked one another the reason; no sooner knew the reason but they sought the remedy; and in these degrees have they made a pair of stairs to marriage, which they will climb incontinent or else be incontinent before marriage. They are in the very wrath of love and they will together. Clubs cannot part them.
Orlando
They shall be married tomorrow, and I will bid the Duke to the nuptial. But O, how bitter a thing it is to look into happiness through another man’s eyes! …
Rosalind
Believe then, if you please, that I can do strange things. I have since I was three year old conversed with a magician, most profound in his art and yet not damnable. If you do love Rosalind so near the heart as your gesture cries it out, when your brother marries Aliena shall you marry her.
Phoebe Good shepherd, tell this youth what ’tis to love.Silvius It is to be all made of sighs and tears, and so am I for Phoebe.Phoebe And I for Ganymede.Orlando And I for Rosalind.Rosalind And I for no woman.Silvius It is to be all made of faith and service, And so am I for Phoebe.Phoebe And I for Ganymede.Orlando And I for Rosalind.Rosalind And I for no woman.Silvius 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 obedience, And so am I for Phoebe.Phoebe And so am I for Ganymede.Orlando And so am I for Rosalind.Rosalind And so am I for no woman.
The Compact
Duke Senior
Dost thou believe, Orlando, that the boy Can do all this that he hath promised?
Orlando
I sometimes do believe and sometimes do not, As those that fear hope, and know to fear.
Rosalind
Patience once more while our compact is urged.
[to Duke Senior]
You say if I bring in your Rosalind You will bestow her on Orlando here?
Duke Senior
That would I, had I kingdoms to give with her.
Rosalind
[to Orlando]
And you will have her when I bring her?
Orlando
That would I, were I of all kingdoms king.
Rosalind
[to Phoebe]
You say you’ll marry me if I be willing?
Phoebe
That I will, should I die the hour after.
Rosalind
But if you do refuse to marry me You’ll give yourself to this most faithful shepherd?
Phoebe
So is the bargain.
Rosalind
[to Silvius]
You say you’ll have Phoebe if she will?
Silvius
Though to have her and death were both one thing.
Duke Senior
I do remember in this shepherd boy Some lively touches of my daughter’s favour.
Orlando
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.
Degrees of the Lie
Touchstone
Salutation and greeting to you all.
Jaques
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.
Touchstone
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.
Jaques
Can you nominate in order now the degrees of the lie?
Touchstone
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 counter-check 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’.
Jaques
Is not this a rare fellow, my lord? He’s as good at anything, and yet a fool.
Duke Senior
He uses his folly like a stalking-horse and under the presentation of that he shoots his wit.
The Wedding
[Enter Hymen, with Rosalind and Celia in their own clothes.]
Hymen
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. …
Duke Senior
If there be truth in sight, you are my daughter.
Orlando
If there be truth in sight, you are my Rosalind.
Phoebe
If sight and shape be true, Why then, my love adieu.
Rosalind
I’ll have no father, if you be not he. I’ll have no husband, if you be not he. Nor ne’er wed woman, if you be not she.
Hymen
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.
[Song.]
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.