Part 14 (1/2)

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 Circ.u.mstance; 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, G.o.d 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.