SCENE IV.

The forest

Enter DUKE SENIOR, AMIENS, JAQUES, ORLANDO, OLIVER, and CELIA

  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 they hope, and know they fear.

               Enter ROSALIND, SILVIUS, and PHEBE

  ROSALIND. Patience once more, whiles our compact is urg'd:
    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. And you say you will have her when I bring her?

  ORLANDO. That would I, were I of all kingdoms king.

  ROSALIND. You say you'll marry me, if I be willing?

  PHEBE. That will I, should I die the hour after.

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

  PHEBE. So is the bargain.

  ROSALIND. You say that you'll have Phebe, if she will?

  SILVIUS. Though to have her and death were both one thing.

  ROSALIND. I have promis'd 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, Phebe, 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.
                                       Exeunt ROSALIND and CELIA

  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 tutor'd 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.

                    Enter TOUCHSTONE and AUDREY

  JAQUES. 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 call'd fools.

  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 flatt'red 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. And how was that ta'en up?

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

  JAQUES. How seventh cause? Good my lord, like this fellow.

  DUKE SENIOR. I like him very well.

  TOUCHSTONE. 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-favour'd thing, sir, but mine own; a
    poor humour of mine, sir, to take that that man else will.
    Rich honesty dwells like a miser, sir, in a poor house; as your pearl
    in your foul oyster.

  DUKE SENIOR. By my faith, he is very swift and sententious.

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

  JAQUES. But, for the seventh cause: how did you find the quarrel on
    the seventh cause?

  TOUCHSTONE. 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 call'd 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 call'd the Quip
    Modest. If again it was not well cut, he disabled my judgment.
    This is call'd the Reply Churlish. If again it was not well cut,
    he would answer I spake not true. This is call'd the Reproof
    Valiant. If again it was not well cut, he would say I lie.
    This is call'd the Countercheck Quarrelsome. And so to the Lie
    Circumstantial and the Lie Direct.

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

  TOUCHSTONE. I durst go no further than the Lie Circumstantial, nor
    he durst not give me the Lie Direct; and so we measur'd swords
    and parted.

  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
    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 peace-maker; much virtue in If.

  JAQUES. Is not this a rare fellow, my lord?
    He's as good at any thing, and yet a fool.

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

          Enter HYMEN, ROSALIND, and CELIA. Still MUSIC

    HYMEN.    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.

  ROSALIND. [To DUKE] To you I give myself, for I am yours.
    [To ORLANDO] To you I give myself, for I am yours.

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

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

  PHEBE. 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.
            You and you no cross shall part;
            You and you are heart in heart;
            You to his love must accord,
            Or have a woman to your lord;
            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.

                       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!

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

  PHEBE. I will not eat my word, now thou art mine;
    Thy faith my fancy to thee doth combine.

                 Enter JAQUES de BOYS

  JAQUES de BOYS. 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,
    Address'd 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 banish'd brother,
    And all their lands restor'd to them again
    That were with him exil'd. This to be true
    I do engage my life.

  DUKE SENIOR. Welcome, young man.
    Thou offer'st fairly to thy brothers' 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 endur'd 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 heap'd in joy, to th' measures fall.

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

  JAQUES DE BOYS. He hath.

  JAQUES. To him will I. Out of these convertites
    There is much matter to be heard and learn'd.
    [To DUKE] 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 victuall'd.- So to your pleasures;
    I am for other than for dancing measures.

  DUKE SENIOR. Stay, Jaques, stay.

  JAQUES. To see no pastime I. What you would have
    I'll stay to know at your abandon'd cave.               Exit

  DUKE SENIOR. Proceed, proceed. We will begin these rites,
    As we do trust they'll end, in true delights.    [A dance]

Exeunt

EPILOGUE
                           EPILOGUE.

  ROSALIND. 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
    furnish'd 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 please you; and I charge you, O men, for the love
    you bear to women- as I perceive by your simp'ring none of you
    hates 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
    pleas'd me, complexions that lik'd 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 curtsy,
    bid me farewell.

THE END

Your 'if' is the only peacemaker; much virtue in 'if'. On the following day, Duke Senior asks Orlando if he believes that Ganymede can do all that he has promised. With them, Oliver, Celia disguised as Aliena, Amiens, and Jaques have gathered to see whether the miracle of multiple marriages will be performed. Rosalind enters in her customary disguise, followed by Silvius and Phoebe. She reminds all parties of their agreements: the duke will allow Orlando to marry Rosalind, if she appears, and Phoebe will marry Ganymede unless unforeseen circumstances make her refuse, in which case she will marry Silvius. Everyone agrees, and Rosalind and Celia disappear into the forest. While they are gone, Duke Senior notes the remarkable resemblance of Ganymede to his own daughter--an opinion that Orlando seconds. Touchstone and Audrey join the party. Touchstone entertains the company with the description of a quarrel he had. As he finishes, Rosalind and Celia return, dressed as themselves and accompanied by Hymen, the god of marriage. Phoebe, realizing that the young man she loves is, in fact, a woman, agrees to marry Silvius. Hymen marries the happy couples: Orlando and Rosalind, Oliver and Celia, Phoebe and Silvius, and Touchstone and Audrey. A great wedding feast begins. Halfway through the festivities, Jaques de Bois, the middle brother of Oliver and Orlando, arrives with the information that Duke Frederick mounted an army to seek out Duke Senior and destroy him. As he rode toward the Forest of Ardenne, Duke Frederick met a priest who converted him to a peace-loving life. Jaques de Bois goes on to report that Frederick has abdicated his throne to his brother and has moved to a monastery. All rejoice, happy in the knowledge that they can return to the royal court. Only Jaques decides that he will not return to court. He determines to follow Duke Frederick's example and live a solitary and contemplative existence in a monastery. The wedding feast continues, and the revelers dance as everyone except Rosalind exits the stage. Epilogue It is not the fashion to see the lady the epilogue; but it is no more unhandsome than to see the lord the prologue. Rosalind steps forward and admits that the play is breaking theatrical customs by allowing a female character to perform the epilogue. But the play, she says, improves with the epilogue, and so she asks the audience's indulgence. She will not beg for the audience's approval, for she is not dressed like a beggar. Instead, she will "conjure" them . She begins with the women, asking them to like as much of the play as pleases them "for the love bear to men" . She asks the same of the men, saying that if she were a woman--for all the female roles in Renaissance theater were played by men--she would kiss as many of them as were handsome and hygienic. She is sure the compliment would be returned, and that the men will lavish her with applause as she curtseys.

In the play's final act, Rosalind makes good on her promise to "make all this matter even," that is, to smooth out the remaining romantic entanglements . Both Duke Senior and Orlando seem to have discovered Rosalind's game by this time, and, indeed, Orlando might well have known Ganymede's true identity from the start: "My lord, the first time that I ever saw him, / Methought he was a brother to your daughter" . That Rosalind's identity is known before she reveals it does nothing to undermine the charm of her spell. On the contrary, her lover would not be any less willing than the audience to play along with her charms.  Rosalind's love for Orlando requires the blessing of marriage in order to have currency in the world beyond the forest. Hymen, by his own declaration, is a god not of the forest but "of every town," and it is to town that the lovers will now return . This movement should not be read as a simple victory of city over country, especially when we consider that one location necessitates the other: only a respite in the country could mend what civilization had broken. Although As You Like It draws discernable lines between the merits of town and country, heterosexual and homosexual unions, artifice and nature, youth and age, and idealism and realism, it refuses to take a definitive stand on any issue. Rather, the play insists on the complexity of life by allowing for the crossing of such boundaries. The characters' delight in transcending these boundaries suggests a utopia where human existence is no less joyous for all its absurdities and hardships, and one where all that has been broken can, to some degree, be rebuilt. The play's hopeful vision is one in which not everyone can or will share, as the implacable Jaques makes clear, but it is one to which most of us are only too delighted to cling. The Epilogue, in which one of the actors remains onstage after the play has ended, was a standard part of many plays in Elizabethan times. An epilogue proves a convenient way to tie up loose ends, to distill the thematic concerns of the play into a neat speech, and to ask the audience for applause. But Shakespeare explodes the conventions of the form when he allows Rosalind to take the stage. Not only has Rosalind dropped her disguise as Ganymede, but the boy actor playing Rosalind lets slip the mask of Rosalind. When he solicits the approval of the men in the audience, he says, "If I were a woman I would kiss as many of you as had beards that pleased me" . The dizzying intermingling of homosexual and heterosexual affections that govern a man pretending to be woman pretending to be a man pretending to be a woman in the hopes of seducing a man reiterates the play's celebration of the wonderful complexities of human life.