Act V, Scene i:
The Forest of Arden.

[Enter TOUCHSTONE and AUDREY.]

TOUCHSTONE:

We shall find a time, Audrey; patience, gentle Audrey.

AUDREY:

Faith, the priest was good enough, for all the old gentleman's

saying.

TOUCHSTONE:

A most wicked Sir Oliver, Audrey, a most vile Martext.

But, Audrey, there is a youth here in the forest lays claim to

you.

AUDREY:

Ay, I know who 'tis: he hath no interest in me in the

world: here comes the man you mean.

[Enter WILLIAM.]

TOUCHSTONE:

It is meat and drink to me to see a clown: By my troth,

we that have good wits have much to answer for; we shall be

flouting; we cannot hold.

WILLIAM:

Good even, Audrey.

AUDREY:

God ye good even, William.

WILLIAM:

And good even to you, sir.

TOUCHSTONE:

Good even, gentle friend. Cover thy head, cover thy

head; nay, pr'ythee, be covered. How old are you, friend?

WILLIAM:

Five and twenty, sir.

TOUCHSTONE:

A ripe age. Is thy name William?

WILLIAM:

William, sir.

TOUCHSTONE:

A fair name. Wast born i' the forest here?

WILLIAM:

Ay, sir, I thank God.

TOUCHSTONE:

Thank God;—a good answer. Art rich?

WILLIAM:

Faith, sir, so-so.

TOUCHSTONE:

So-so is good, very good, very excellent good:—and

yet it is not; it is but so-so. Art thou wise?

WILLIAM:

Ay, sir, I have a pretty wit.

TOUCHSTONE:

Why, thou say'st well. I do now remember a saying; 'The

fool doth think he is wise, but the wise man knows himself to

be a fool.' The heathen philosopher, when he had a desire to eat

a grape, would open his lips when he put it into his mouth;

meaning thereby that grapes were made to eat and lips to open.

You do love this maid?

WILLIAM:

I do, sir.

TOUCHSTONE:

Give me your hand. Art thou learned?

WILLIAM:

No, sir.

TOUCHSTONE:

Then learn this of me:—to have is to have; for it is a figure in

rhetoric that drink, being poured out of cup into a glass, by

filling the one doth empty the other; for all your writers do

consent that ipse is he; now, you are not ipse, for I am he.

WILLIAM:

Which he, sir?

TOUCHSTONE:

He, sir, that must marry this woman. Therefore, you clown,

abandon,—which is in the vulgar, leave,—the society,—which

in the boorish is company,—of this female,—which in the common

is woman,—which together is abandon the society of this female;

or, clown, thou perishest; or, to thy better understanding,

diest; or, to wit, I kill thee, make thee away, translate thy

life into death, thy liberty into bondage: I will deal in poison

with thee, or in bastinado, or in steel; I will bandy with thee

in faction; will o'er-run thee with policy; I will kill thee a

hundred and fifty ways; therefore tremble and depart.

AUDREY:

Do, good William.

WILLIAM:

God rest you merry, sir.

[Exit.]

[Enter CORIN.]

CORIN:

Our master and mistress seek you; come away, away!

TOUCHSTONE:

Trip, Audrey, trip, Audrey;—I attend, I attend.

[Exeunt.]