As You Like It, Act 4, Scene 1

Jaques

I prithee, pretty youth, let me be better acquainted with thee.

Please, handsome young man, let me get to know you better.

Rosalind

They say you are a melancholy fellow.

They say you’re a gloomy fellow.

Jaques

I am so; I do love it better than laughing.

I am. I like 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.

People who take either mood to extremes are dreadful company. They expose themselves to every ordinary criticism, worse than drunkards do.

Jaques

Why, ’tis good to be sad and say nothing.

Well, it’s good to be sad and say nothing.

Rosalind

Why then, ’tis good to be a post.

Then it’s good to be a wooden 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.

My sadness isn’t the scholar’s, which comes from rivalry; or the musician’s, which comes from wild fancies; or the courtier’s, which comes from pride; or the soldier’s, which comes from ambition; or the lawyer’s, which comes from scheming; or the lady’s, which comes from fussiness; or the lover’s, which combines them all. It’s a sadness all my own, mixed from many ingredients and drawn from many things. Really, it comes from all the things I’ve reflected on during my travels. Thinking them over so often wraps me in a very peculiar 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.

A traveler! Honestly, you have plenty of reason to be sad. I’m afraid you’ve sold your own lands to see other men’s. To have seen so much and have nothing left means having rich eyes and empty hands.

Jaques

Yes, I have gained my experience.

Yes, I’ve gained 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.

And your experience makes you sad. I’d rather have a fool to make me happy than experience to make me sad—and have to travel for it, too.

Orlando

Good day and happiness, dear Rosalind!

Good day and happiness to you, dear Rosalind!

Jaques

Nay, then, God be wi’ you, an you talk in blank verse.

Well then, goodbye, if you’re going to talk in blank verse.

Rosalind

Farewell, Monsieur Traveller. Look you lisp and wear strange suits; disable all the benefits of your own country; be out of love with your nativity, and almost chide God for making you that countenance you are, or I will scarce think you have swam in a gondola.

Goodbye, Monsieur Traveler. Make sure you speak with a lisp and wear foreign clothes. Disparage everything good about your own country, despise the place you were born, and practically scold God for giving you the face you have. Otherwise, I’ll hardly believe you’ve ever ridden in a gondola.

Orlando

My fair Rosalind, I come within an hour of my promise.

My beautiful Rosalind, I’m less than an hour late for our appointment.

Rosalind

Break an hour’s promise in love? He that will divide a minute into a thousand parts, and break but a part of the thousand part of a minute in the affairs of love, it may be said of him that Cupid hath clapped him o’ the shoulder, but I’ll warrant him heart-whole.

An hour late for an appointment with your love? Divide a minute into a thousand parts: if a man is even a fraction of one of those parts late in matters of love, you might say Cupid has tapped him on the shoulder, but I guarantee his heart is untouched.

Orlando

Pardon me, dear Rosalind.

Forgive me, dear Rosalind.

Rosalind

Nay, an you be so tardy, come no more in my sight. I had as lief be wooed of a snail.

No, if you’re going to be so late, don’t come near me again. I’d just as soon have a snail courting me.

Orlando

Of a snail?

A snail?

Rosalind

Ay, of a snail, for though he comes slowly, he carries his house on his head—a better jointure, I think, than you make a woman. Besides, he brings his destiny with him.

Yes, a snail. Though he comes slowly, he carries his house on his head—a better provision for a widow, I think, than you’d make for a woman. Besides, he brings his fate with him.

Orlando

What’s that?

What’s that?

Rosalind

Why, horns, which such as you are fain to be beholding to your wives for. But he comes armed in his fortune and prevents the slander of his wife.

Horns—the sign of a cheated husband, which men like you have to thank your wives for. But he comes already equipped with his fate and saves his wife from accusations.

Orlando

Virtue is no horn-maker and my Rosalind is virtuous.

A faithful woman doesn’t give her husband horns, and my Rosalind is faithful.

Rosalind

And I am your Rosalind.

And I am your Rosalind.

Celia

It pleases him to call you so, but he hath a Rosalind of a better leer than you.

He likes calling you that, but he has a Rosalind who’s better-looking than you.

Rosalind

Come, woo me, woo me, for now I am in a holiday humour, and like enough to consent. What would you say to me now, an I were your very, very Rosalind?

Come on, court me, court me. I’m in a festive mood now and quite likely to say yes. What would you say to me now if I were your very own, real Rosalind?

Orlando

I would kiss before I spoke.

I’d kiss you before I spoke.

Rosalind

Nay, you were better speak first, and when you were gravelled for lack of matter, you might take occasion to kiss. Very good orators, when they are out, they will spit; and for lovers lacking—God warn us—matter, the cleanliest shift is to kiss.

No, you’d better speak first. Then, when you get stuck with nothing to say, you could take the opportunity to kiss. Very good speakers spit when they lose their place. For lovers who—God help us—have nothing to say, kissing is the cleanest way out.

Orlando

How if the kiss be denied?

What if she refuses the kiss?

Rosalind

Then she puts you to entreaty, and there begins new matter.

Then she makes you plead, and that gives you something new to say.

Orlando

Who could be out, being before his beloved mistress?

Who could be at a loss in front of the woman he loves?

Rosalind

Marry, that should you, if I were your mistress, or I should think my honesty ranker than my wit.

Well, you should be, if I were your sweetheart. Otherwise I’d think my virtue was weaker than my wit.

Orlando

What, of my suit?

What, at a loss with my suit?

Rosalind

Not out of your apparel, and yet out of your suit. Am not I your Rosalind?

You're not out of your clothes, but you are out of luck with your proposal. Aren't I your Rosalind?

Orlando

I take some joy to say you are because I would be talking of her.

It gives me some pleasure to say you are, because I want to keep talking about her.

Rosalind

Well, in her person, I say I will not have you.

Well, speaking as her, I say I won’t have you.

Orlando

Then, in mine own person, I die.

Then, speaking as myself, 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.

No, honestly, have someone else die for you. This poor world is almost six thousand years old, and in all that time no man has ever died himself specifically from love. Troilus had his brains smashed out with a Greek club, though he did everything he could to die before that, and he’s one of the great models of love. Leander would have lived many happy years even if Hero had become a nun, if it hadn’t been for a hot midsummer night. The poor young man only went out to bathe in the Hellespont, got a cramp, and drowned. The foolish historians of that time decided Hero of Sestos was the cause. But these stories are all lies. Men have died throughout history, and worms have eaten them, but they haven’t died for love.

Orlando

I would not have my right Rosalind of this mind, for I protest her frown might kill me.

I wouldn’t want my real Rosalind to think that way. I swear, her frown could kill me.

Rosalind

By this hand, it will not kill a fly. But come, now I will be your Rosalind in a more coming-on disposition, and ask me what you will, I will grant it.

I swear by this hand, it wouldn’t kill a fly. But come on, now I’ll play your Rosalind in a more encouraging mood. Ask me for anything you want, and I’ll grant it.

Orlando

Then love me, Rosalind.

Then love me, Rosalind.

Rosalind

Yes, faith, will I, Fridays and Saturdays and all.

Yes, I certainly will, Fridays and Saturdays included.

Orlando

And wilt thou have me?

And will you marry me?

Rosalind

Ay, and twenty such.

Yes, and twenty more like you.

Orlando

What sayest thou?

What did you say?

Rosalind

Are you not good?

Aren’t you good?

Orlando

I hope so.

I hope so.

Rosalind

Why then, can one desire too much of a good thing?—Come, sister, you shall be the priest and marry us.—Give me your hand, Orlando.—What do you say, sister?

Well then, can anyone want too much of a good thing? Come, sister, you can be the priest and marry us. Give me your hand, Orlando. What do you say, sister?

Orlando

Pray thee, marry us.

Please, marry us.

Celia

I cannot say the words.

I don’t know the words.

Rosalind

You must begin “Will you, Orlando—”

You must begin, “Will you, Orlando—”

Celia

Go to.—Will you, Orlando, have to wife this Rosalind?

All right, then. Will you, Orlando, take this Rosalind as your wife?

Orlando

I will.

I will.

Rosalind

Ay, but when?

Yes, but when?

Orlando

Why now, as fast as she can marry us.

Why, now, as soon as she can marry us.

Rosalind

Then you must say “I take thee, Rosalind, for wife.”

Then you must say, “I take you, Rosalind, as my wife.”

Orlando

I take thee, Rosalind, for wife.

I take you, Rosalind, as my wife.

Rosalind

I might ask you for your commission. But I do take thee, Orlando, for my husband. There’s a girl goes before the priest, and certainly a woman’s thought runs before her actions.

I might ask what authority you have to do that. But I do take you, Orlando, as my husband. There’s a girl getting ahead of the priest, and certainly a woman’s thoughts run ahead of her actions.

Orlando

So do all thoughts. They are winged.

All thoughts do. They have wings.

Rosalind

Now tell me how long you would have her after you have possessed her.

Now tell me how long you would want her after you’ve had her.

Orlando

For ever and a day.

Forever 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 are inclined to sleep.

Say “a day” without the “forever.” No, no, Orlando, men are as warm as April when they court you, and as cold as December when they marry. Girls are as lovely as May while they’re unmarried, but the weather changes when they become wives. I’ll be more jealous of you than a male Barbary pigeon guarding his mate, noisier than a parrot before rain, more eager for new things than an ape, and more changeable in my desires than a monkey. I’ll cry for no reason, like the statue of Diana in the fountain, and I’ll do it when you’re in the mood for fun. I’ll laugh like a hyena, and I’ll do that when you want to sleep.

Orlando

But will my Rosalind do so?

But will my Rosalind do that?

Rosalind

By my life, she will do as I do.

I swear on my life, she’ll do as I do.

Orlando

O, but she is wise.

Oh, but she’s smart.

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.

Otherwise she wouldn’t be clever enough to do this. The smarter she is, the more willful she’ll be. Lock the doors on a woman’s cleverness, and it will escape through the window. Shut that, and it will get out through the keyhole. Block that, and it will fly up the chimney with the smoke.

Orlando

A man that had a wife with such a wit, he might say, “Wit, whither wilt?”

A man with such a clever wife might say, “Cleverness, where are you off to now?”

Rosalind

Nay, you might keep that check for it till you met your wife’s wit going to your neighbour’s bed.

No, you could save that warning until you caught your wife’s cleverness on its way to your neighbor’s bed.

Orlando

And what wit could wit have to excuse that?

And what clever excuse could cleverness find for that?

Rosalind

Marry, to say she came to seek you there. You shall never take her without her answer unless you take her without her tongue. O, that woman that cannot make her fault her husband’s occasion, let her never nurse her child herself, for she will breed it like a fool.

Well, she could say she came looking for you there. You’ll never catch her without an answer unless you catch her without a tongue. Oh, any woman who can’t make her husband responsible for her own wrongdoing should never raise her child herself, because she’ll raise it to be a fool.

Orlando

For these two hours, Rosalind, I will leave thee.

Rosalind, I’ll leave you for these next two hours.

Rosalind

Alas, dear love, I cannot lack thee two hours.

Oh, my dear love, I can’t do without you for two hours.

Orlando

I must attend the Duke at dinner. By two o’clock I will be with thee again.

I must join the Duke at dinner. I’ll be back with you by two o’clock.

Rosalind

Ay, go your ways, go your ways. I knew what you would prove. My friends told me as much, and I thought no less. That flattering tongue of yours won me. ’Tis but one cast away, and so, come death! Two o’clock is your hour?

Yes, go on, go on. I knew how you would turn out. My friends warned me, and I expected no better. That flattering tongue of yours won me over. It’s only one more person ruined, so let death come! Two o’clock is when you’ll return?

Orlando

Ay, sweet Rosalind.

Yes, sweet Rosalind.

Rosalind

By my troth, and in good earnest, and so God mend me, and by all pretty oaths that are not dangerous, if you break one jot of your promise or come one minute behind your hour, I will think you the most pathetical break-promise, and the most hollow lover, and the most unworthy of her you call Rosalind that may be chosen out of the gross band of the unfaithful. Therefore beware my censure, and keep your promise.

On my word, in all seriousness, so help me God, and by every sweet little oath that does no harm: don't break even the smallest part of your promise or arrive even one minute late. If you do, I'll think you the most pitiful promise-breaker and the most false-hearted lover in the whole crowd of unfaithful men. I'll think you the least worthy of the woman you call Rosalind. So beware of my judgment, and keep your promise.

Orlando

With no less religion than if thou wert indeed my Rosalind. So, adieu.

I’ll keep it as faithfully as if you really were my Rosalind. So, goodbye.

Rosalind

Well, Time is the old justice that examines all such offenders, and let time try. Adieu.

Well, Time is the old judge who questions all such offenders, so let time judge you. Goodbye.

Celia

You have simply misused our sex in your love-prate! We must have your doublet and hose plucked over your head and show the world what the bird hath done to her own nest.

You've thoroughly insulted women with all your chatter about love! We ought to pull your jacket and pants off over your head and show the world how this bird has fouled her own nest.

Rosalind

O coz, coz, coz, my pretty little coz, that thou didst know how many fathom deep I am in love! But it cannot be sounded; my affection hath an unknown bottom, like the Bay of Portugal.

Oh, cousin, cousin, cousin, my sweet little cousin, if only you knew how deeply I’m in love! But no one can measure it. My love has no known bottom, like the Bay of Portugal.

Celia

Or rather, bottomless, that as fast as you pour affection in, it runs out.

Or rather, it has no bottom at all, so as fast as you pour love in, it runs out.

Rosalind

No, that same wicked bastard of Venus, that was begot of thought, conceived of spleen, and born of madness, that blind rascally boy that abuses everyone’s eyes because his own are out, let him be judge how deep I am in love. I’ll tell thee, Aliena, I cannot be out of the sight of Orlando. I’ll go find a shadow and sigh till he come.

No, let that wicked bastard son of Venus, fathered by longing, conceived out of passion, and born of madness—that blind, rascally boy who tricks everyone’s eyes because his own can’t see—judge how deeply I’m in love. I tell you, Aliena, I can’t bear to be out of Orlando’s sight. I’ll find a shady spot and sigh until he comes.

Celia

And I’ll sleep.

And I’ll sleep.