Within these ten days if that thou beest found
So near our public court as twenty miles,
Young man, have you challenged Charles the
No, fair princess.
Rosalind, to Duke
I’ll have no father, if you be not he.
Under the greenwood tree
Who loves to lie with me
And turn his merry note
Unto the sweet bird’s throat,
Enter Orlando, carrying Adam.
Welcome. Set down your venerable burden,
And let him feed.
Tomorrow is the joyful day, Audrey. Tomorrow
will we be married.
I do desire it with all my heart,
I would not be thy executioner.
I fly thee, for I would not injure thee.
Thou tell’st me there is murder in mine eye.
And why, I pray you? Who might be your mother,
That you insult, exult, and all at once,
Over the wretched?
It is not the fashion to see the lady the epilogue, but it is no more unhandsome than to see the lord the prologue.
But O, how bitter a thing it is to look into happiness through another man’s eyes!
Is’t possible that on so little acquaintance you should like her? That but seeing, you should love her?
The fool doth think he is wise, but the wise man knows himself to be a fool.
O coz, coz, coz, my pretty little coz, that thou didst know how many fathom deep I am in love!
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,
Or else she could not have the wit to do this; the wiser, the waywarder. Make the doors upon a woman’s wit,
Now tell me how long you would have her after you have possessed her?
Forever and a day.
Men have died from time to time, and worms have eaten them, but not for love.
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;
Who ever lov’d that lov’d not at first sight?
I pray you do not fall in love with me,
For I am falser than vows made in wine.
You are a thousand times a properer man
Than she a woman. ’Tis such fools as you
That makes the world full of ill-favor’d children.
Do you not know I am a woman? When I think, I must speak.
And how like you this shepherd’s life, Master Touchstone?
Thou seest we are not all alone unhappy:
This wide and universal theatre
Presents more woeful pageants than the scene
Wherein we play in.
Speak you so gently? Pardon me, I pray you.
I thought that all things had been savage here,
A fool, a fool! I met a fool i’ th’ forest,
A motley fool. A miserable world!
Alas, poor shepherd, searching of thy wound,
I have by hard adventure found mine own.
O Corin, that thou knew’st how I do love her!
I partly guess;
Why, whither, Adam, wouldst thou have me go?
No matter whither,
What, my young master? O my gentle master,
O my sweet master, O you memory
Of old Sir Rowland!
Now, my co-mates and brothers in exile,
Hath not old custom made this life more sweet
Than that of Alliterationpainted pomp?
O, how full of briers is this working-day world!
They are but burs,
I beseech you, punish me not with your hard thoughts, wherein I confess me much guilty to deny so fair and excellent ladies any thing.
Bonjour, Monsieur Le Beau. What’s the news?
How now, wit, whither wander you?
Mistress, you must come away to your
Let us sit and mock the good housewife Fortune
from her wheel, that her gifts may henceforth be
Most friendship is feigning, most loving mere folly.