As You Like It By William Shakespeare Act IV: Scene 1

ORLANDO.
What, of my suit?

ROSALIND.
Not out of your apparel, and yet out of your suit.
Am not I your Rosalind?

ORLANDO.
I take some joy to say you are, because I would be talking of
her.

ROSALIND.
Well, in her person, I say I will not have you.

ORLANDO.
Then, in mine own person, I die.

ROSALIND.
No, faith, die by attorney. The poor world is almost six
thousand years old, and in all this time there was not any man
died in his own person, videlicet, in a love-cause. Troilus had
his brains dashed out with a Grecian club; yet he did what he
could to die before; and he is one of the patterns of love.
Leander, he would have lived many a fair year, though Hero had
turned nun, if it had not been for a hot midsummer night; for,
good youth, he went but forth to wash him in the Hellespont, and,
being taken with the cramp, was drowned; and the foolish
chroniclers of that age found it was — Hero of Sestos. But these
are all lies; men have died from time to time, and worms have
eaten them, but not for love.

ORLANDO.
I would not have my right Rosalind of this mind; for, I
protest, her frown might kill me.

ROSALIND.
By this hand, it will not kill a fly. But come, now I
will be your Rosalind in a more coming-on disposition; and
ask me what you will, I will grant it.

ORLANDO.
Then love me, Rosalind.

ROSALIND.
Yes, faith, will I, Fridays and Saturdays, and all.

ORLANDO.
And wilt thou have me?

ROSALIND.
Ay, and twenty such.

ORLANDO.
What sayest thou?

ROSALIND.
Are you not good?

ORLANDO.
I hope so.

ROSALIND.
Why then, can one desire too much of a good thing? — Come,
sister, you shall be the priest, and marry us. — Give me your
hand, Orlando: — What do you say, sister?

ORLANDO.
Pray thee, marry us.

CELIA.
I cannot say the words.

ROSALIND.
You must begin, — 'Will you, Orlando' —

CELIA.
Go to: — Will you, Orlando, have to wife this Rosalind?

ORLANDO.
I will.

ROSALIND.
Ay, but when?

ORLANDO.
Why, now; as fast as she can marry us.

ROSALIND.
Then you must say, — 'I take thee, Rosalind, for wife.'

ORLANDO.
I take thee, Rosalind, for wife.

ROSALIND.
I might ask you for your commission; but, — I do take
thee, Orlando, for my husband: — there's a girl goes before the
priest; and, certainly, a woman's thought runs before her
actions.

ORLANDO.
So do all thoughts; they are winged.

ROSALIND.
Now tell me how long you would have her, after you have possessed
her.

ORLANDO.
For ever and a day.

ROSALIND.
Say "a day," without the "ever." No, no, Orlando: men are
April when they woo, December when they wed: maids are May when
they are maids, but the sky changes when they are wives. I will
be more jealous of thee than a Barbary cock-pigeon over his hen;
more clamorous than a parrot against rain; more new-fangled than
an ape; more giddy in my desires than a monkey: I will weep for
nothing, like Diana in the fountain, and I will do that when you
are disposed to be merry; I will laugh like a hyen, and that when
thou are inclined to sleep.

ORLANDO.
But will my Rosalind do so?

ROSALIND.
By my life, she will do as I do.

ORLANDO.
O, but she is wise.

ROSALIND.
Or else she could not have the wit to do this: the wiser,
the waywarder: make the doors upon a woman's wit, and it will
out at the casement; shut that, and it will out at the keyhole;
stop that, 'twill fly with the smoke out at the chimney.

ORLANDO.
A man that had a wife with such a wit, he might say, — 'Wit,
whither wilt?'

ROSALIND.
Nay, you might keep that check for it, till you met your wife's
wit going to your neighbour's bed.

ORLANDO.
And what wit could wit have to excuse that?

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