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.]