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 judgment: "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. Jaq. And how oft did you say, his beard was not well cut? Touch. 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. Jaq. Can you nominate in order now the degrees of the lie? Touch. 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. Jaq. Is not this a rare fellow, my lord? He's as good at anything, and yet a fool. Duke S. He uses his folly like a stalking-horse, and under the presentation of that he shoots his wit. Enter HYMEN, leading ROSALIND in woman's clothes; and CELIA. Still Music. Hym. Then is there mirth in heaven, Atone together. Good Duke, receive thy daughter, Hymen from heaven brought her, Yea, brought her hither; That thou mightst join her hand with his. Ros. To you I give myself, for I am yours. To you I give myself, for I am yours. [To DUKE S. [TO ORLANDO. Duke S. If there be truth in sight, you are my daughter. Why then, my love, adieu! Ros. 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. Hym. 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.* You and you no cross shall part: [To ORLANDO and ROSALIND. [To OLIVER and CELIA. You and you are heart in heart: [To TOUCHSTONE and AUDREY. As the winter to foul weather. How thus we met, and these things finish. SONG. Wedding is great Juno's crown; Duke S. O my dear niece, welcome thou art to me; Phe. I will not eat my word, now thou art mine: Thy faith my fancy to thee doth combine.t Enter JAQUES DE BOIS. [To SYLVIUS. Jaq. de B. 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;- That were with him exiled: This to be true, Duke S. Welcome, young man; Thou offer'st fairly to thy brothers' wedding: That have endured shrewd days and nights with us, Play, music; and you brides and bridegrooms all, And thrown into neglect the pompous court? Jaq. To him will I; out of these convertites [TO DUKE S. ;= Your patience, and your virtue well deserves it :- Jaq. To see no pastime, I:-what you would have I'll stay to know at your abandon'd cave. Duke S. Proceed, proceed: we will begin these rites, And we do trust they'll end in true delights. EPILOGUE. [Exit. [A dance. Ros. It is not the fashion to see the lady the epilogue: but it is no more unhandsome, than to see the lord the prologue. If it be true, that good wine needs no bush, 'tis true, that a good play needs no epilogue: Yet to good wine they do use good bushes; and good plays prove the better by the help of good epilogues. What a case am I in then, that am neither a good epilogue, nor cannot insinuate with you in the behalf of a good play! I am not furnished* like a beggar, therefore to beg will not become me: my way is, to conjure you; and I'll begin with the women. I charge you, O women, for the love you bear to men, to like as much of this play as pleases them: and so I charge you, O men, * Dressed. for the love you bear to women, (as I perceive by your simpering, none of you hate them), that between you and the women, the play may please. If I were a woman, I would kiss as many of you as had beards that pleased me, complexions that liked me,* and breaths that I defied not: and, I am sure, as many as have good beards, or good faces, or sweet breaths, will, for my kind offer, when I make curt'sy, bid me farewell. [Exeunt. That I liked. END OF VOL. I. COX (BROTHERS) AND WYMAN, PRINTERS, GREAT QUEEN STREET. |