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 speak 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.

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

Touch. I durst go no farther than the lie circumstantial, nor he durst not give me the lie direct; and so we measured swords, and parted.

Jaques. Can you nominate in oraer 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 peace-maker; much virtue in If.

Jaques. Is not this a rare fellow, my lord? he's good at any thing, and yet a fool!

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

Enter JAQUES DE BOYS, L.

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:-
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 h re, to 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 restored to them again,
That were with him exiled: This, to be true,
I do engage my life.

Duke. Welcome, young man:

Thou offer'st fairly to thy brother's wedding.

A Dance-then enter HYMEN, attended.
Hym. 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 might'st join her hand with his,
Whose heart within his bosom is.

[HYMEN goes to the top of the Stage, brings forward ROSALIND, and presents her to the DUKE-CELIA comes forward.

Ros. To you I give myself, for I am yours.

[To the DUKE. To you I give myself, for I am yours. [To ORLANDO. Duke. (c.) If there be truth in sight, you are my daughter.

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

[To the DUKE.

[TO ORLANDO.

Hym. Whiles a wedlock-hymn we sing,

Feed yourselves with questioning.

[TO PHŒBE.

Duke. Oh, my dear niece, welcome thou art to me; Even daughter, welcome in no less degree.

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 endured 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 the 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?
Jaq. de. B. He hath.

Jaques. To him will I: out of these convertites
There is much matter to be heard and learn'd.-
You, to your former honour I bequeath;

[To the DUKE. Your patience, and your virtue, well deserves it : You, to a love, that your true faith doth merit

[To ORLANDO.

You, to your land, and love, and great allies:"

You, to a long and well-deserved bed :

[TO OLIVER.

[To SYLVIUS.

And you to wrangling; for thy loving voyage

Is but for two months victuall'd

[TO TOUCHSTone.

Touch. Come along, Audrey. [Exit with AUDREY, R.
Jaques. So to your pleasures;

I am for other, than for dancing measures.
Duke. Stay, Jaques, stay.

Jaques. To see no pastime, I:-What you would

have,

I'll stay to know at your abandon'd cave.

[Exit, L.

Duke. Proceed, proceed; we will begin these rites, As we do trust they'll end, in true delights.

EPILOGUE.

Ros. 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 can 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 I charge you, O men! 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 among you, I would kiss as many of you as had beards that pleased me, complexions that liked me: and, I am sure, as many as have good beards, or good faces, will, for my kind offer, when I make a courtesy, bid me farewell. [Exeunt omnes.

THE END.