All language subtitles for As you Like it 2006 Kenneth Branagh - Bryce Dallas Howard, Kevin Kline, Adrian Lester, Janet McTeer, Alfred Molina, David Oyelowo DualEng

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♪ ♪

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- My lord.

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- Go!

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- No!

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- Father!

No!

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- My lord!

My lord.

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- Sir.
Sir.

Sir.

♪ ♪

♪ ♪

What's the news?

The old duke
is banished

by his younger brother
the new duke.

So where will
the old duke live?

Well, they say
he is already

in the forest of Arden.

♪ ♪

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♪ ♪

- I pray thee, Rosalind...

sweet my coz,

be merry.

- Dear Celia,

I show more mirth
than I am mistress of,

and would you yet
I were merrier?

Unless you can teach me
to forget a banished father.

- You know my father
hath no child but I,

nor none is
like to have,

and, truly,
when he dies,

thou shalt
be his heir,

for what he hath taken away
from thy father perforce,

I will render thee
again in affection;

by mine honor,
I will,

and when I break that oath,
let me turn monster.

Therefore,
my sweet Rose,

my dear Rose,

be merry.

- What shall be
our sport then?

♪ ♪

- How now, wit.
Wither wander you?

- Mistress, you must come away
to your father.

- Were you made the messenger?

- No, by mine honor,

but I was bid to come for you.

Monsieur Le Beau.

What's the news?

- I will tell you
the beginning,

and if it please
your ladyships,

you may see the end,

for the best
is yet to do.

♪ ♪

♪ ♪

♪ ♪

- What make you here?

- Nothing.

I am not taught
to make anything.

- Know you where you are, sir?

- Oh, sir, very well.

- Know you before whom, sir?

- Aye, better than him
I am before knows me.

I know you are
my eldest brother,

and in the gentle condition
of blood,

you should so know me.

The courtesy of nations
allows you my better

in that you
are the firstborn,

but the same tradition
takes not away my blood,

were there 20 brothers
betwixt us.

- Sweet masters,
be patient.

♪ ♪

- Come, come, elder brother,
you are too young in this.

♪ ♪

♪ ♪

- Wilt thou lay
hands on me, villain?

- I am no villain!

I am the youngest son
of Sir Rowland de Boys.

Wert thou not my brother,
I would not take this hand

from thy throat till this other
had pulled out thy tongue

for saying so.

- For your father's remembrance,
be at accord!

♪ ♪

- Let me go, I say!

- My father charged you
in his will

to give me
good education.

You have trained me
like a peasant,

obscuring
and hiding from me

all gentleman-like
qualities.

The spirit of my father
grows strong in me,

and I will no longer
endure it.

Therefore allow me
such exercises

as may become
a gentleman,

or give me the poor allottery
my father left me

by testament.

With that I will
go buy my fortunes.

- And what wilt thou do?

Beg when that is spent?

♪ ♪

Well, sir, get you in.

I will not long be
troubled with you;

you shall have
some part of your will.

Get you with him,
you old dog.

- Is "old dog"
my reward?

Most true, I have lost my teeth
in your service.

God be with
my old master.

He would not have
spoke such a word.

♪ ♪

♪ ♪

- You wrestle before
the new duke?

- Marry, sir;

and we came to acquaint
you with a matter.

- Oh.

- He is given, sir,
secretly to understand

that your
younger brother Orlando

hath the disposition to come in
against him to try a fall.

Your brother is
but young and tender,

and, for your love,

Charles would be loathe
to foil him.

- I tell thee, Charles...

It is the stubbornest
young fellow,

full of ambition,

a secret and a villainous
contriver against me,

his natural brother.

Therefore,

use thy discretion,

for he will practice
against thee by poison,

entrap thee by some
treacherous device

and never leave

till he hath
ta'en thy life.

- I am heartily glad
we came hither to you.

He'll give him
his payment.

God keep
your worship.

- Farewell,
good Charles.

♪ ♪

I hope I shall
see an end of him,

for my soul,
yet I know not why,

hates nothing more

than he.

Yet...

he's gentle.

♪ ♪

Never schooled
and yet learned,

full of noble device.

♪ ♪

And so much in the heart
of my own people,

who best know him,

that I am altogether
misprized.

♪ ♪

But...

It shall not be so long.

This wrestler

shall clear all.

♪ ♪

- Shall we see this wrestling,
cousin?

- You must
if you stay here.

They are ready.

♪ ♪

- How now,
daughter and cousin.

Are you crept hither
to see the wrestling?

- Aye, my liege,

so please you
give us leave.

- You will take little delight
in it, I can tell you;

there is such odds
in the man.

In pity of
the challenger's youth

I would fain
dissuade him,

but he will not
be entreated.

Speak to him, ladies;

see if you
can move him.

- Young man, have you challenged
Charles the wrestler?

- Young gentleman, your spirits
are too bold for your years.

We pray you,
for your own sake,

to embrace your safety
and give over this attempt.

- Do, young sir;

your reputation shall not
therefore be misprized.

We will make it
our suit to the duke

that the wrestling
might not go forward.

- I beseech you, punish me not
with your hard thoughts;

wherein I confess
me much guilty

to deny so fair and excellent
ladies anything.

But let your fair...

Eyes and gentle wishes
go with me to my trial.

Wherein if
I be foiled,

there is but one shamed
that was never gracious;

if killed,
but one dead

that is willing
to be so.

I shall do
my friends no wrong,

for I have none
to lament me,

the world no injury,
for in it I have nothing.

Only in the world
I fill up a place,

which may be better supplied
when I have made it empty.

- The little strength
that I have,

I would it were with you.

♪ ♪

- And mine,
to eke out hers.

♪ ♪

- Fare you well.

♪ ♪

Come,

where is this young gallant
that is so desirous

to lie with his mother earth?

- Ready, sir.

- You shall try
but one fall.

Now, Hercules

be thy speed,
young man.

♪ ♪

♪ ♪

♪ ♪

- You should not
have mocked me.

♪ ♪

♪ ♪

♪ ♪

- Oh, excellent young man.

- No more.

No more.

♪ ♪

How dost thou, Charles?

- He cannot speak,
my lord.

- Bear him away.

♪ ♪

What is thy name,
young man?

- Orlando, my liege,

the youngest son
of Sir Rowland de Boys.

- I would thou hadst been
son to some man else.

♪ ♪

The world esteemed
thy father honorable,

but I did find him
still mine enemy.

♪ ♪

Thou shouldst have better
pleased me with this deed

hadst thou descended
from another house.

♪ ♪

- My father loved
Sir Rowland as his soul,

and all the world
was of my father's mind.

- My father's rough
and envious disposition

sticks me at heart.

Sir, you have well deserved.

- Wear this
necklace for me,

one out of suits
with fortune,

that could give more,

but that her hand

lacks means.

♪ ♪

- Can I not say I thank you?

- Did you call?

♪ ♪

Sir...

♪ ♪

You have wrestled well...

And overthrown

more than your enemies.

♪ ♪

- Will you go, coz?

♪ ♪

- Oh, poor Orlando...

Thou art overthrown.

Let's go.

♪ ♪

Good sir, I do in friendship
counsel you to leave this place.

Albeit you have deserved
high commendation,

true applause,
and love--

- I thank you, sir.

Pray you, tell me this:

which of the two
was daughter of the duke

that here was
at the wrestling?

- Neither his daughter,
if we judge by manners.

But yet indeed
the shorter is his daughter.

The other is daughter
to the banished duke,

and here detained
by her usurping uncle

to keep his
daughter company,

whose loves are dearer than
the natural bond of sisters.

But I can tell you
that of late

this duke hath ta'en displeasure
'gainst his gentle niece,

grounded upon
no other argument

but that the people
praise her for her virtues

and pity her
for her good father's sake.

And, on my life,
his malice 'gainst the lady

will suddenly break forth.

Sir, hereafter,

in a better
world than this,

I shall desire more love
and knowledge of you.

- I rest much
bounden to you.

Fare you well.

Thus must I from the smoke
into the smother,

from tyrant duke
unto a tyrant brother.

But heavenly...

♪ ♪

Rosalind.

♪ ♪

♪ ♪

- Why, Rosalind!

Cupid have mercy!
Not a word?

- Not one to throw at a dog.

- But is all this
for your father?

- No, some of it is
for my child's father.

♪ ♪

- Let us talk
in good earnest.

Is it possible

on such a sudden,

you should fall
into so strong a liking

with old Sir Rowland's
youngest son?

- The duke my father
loved his father dearly.

- Doth it therefore ensue that
you should love his son dearly?

- Mistress, dispatch you
with your safest haste

and get you from our court.

Me, Uncle?

- You, cousin.

Within these ten days
if that thou be'st found

so near our public court
as 20 miles,

thou diest for it.

- I do beseech
your grace,

let me the knowledge
of my faults bear with me.

Never so much as
in a thought unborn

did I offend
your highness.

- Let it suffice thee
that I trust thee not.

- Yet your mistrust
cannot make me a traitor.

- Thou art thy father's
daughter; there's enough.

- Dear sovereign,
hear me speak.

- Aye, Celia.

We stayed her
for your sake,

else had she with her father
ranged along.

She is too subtle for thee,

and her smoothness,

her very silence
and her patience

speak to the people,
and they pity her.

Thou art a fool.

She robs thee of thy name,

and thou wilt show
more bright

and seem more virtuous
when she is gone.

Then open not thy lips.

Firm and irrevocable
is my doom

which I have
passed upon her.

She is banished.

♪ ♪

- Pronounce that sentence then
on me, my liege.

I cannot live
out of her company.

♪ ♪

- You are a fool.

♪ ♪

♪ ♪

You...

niece!

- Provide yourself.

If you outstay the time,
upon mine honor

and in the greatness
of my word,

you die.

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- Who's there?

Oh, my sweet master.

Oh, you memory
of old Sir Rowland.

Why, what make
you here?

Your brother--

no, no brother,
yet the son--

yet not the son,
I will not call him son--

he's heard your praises,

and this night he means
to burn this stable

where you used to lie
and you within it.

- Why, whither, Adam,
wouldst thou have me go?

- No matter whither,
so you stay not here.

- Yet this I will not do,
do how I can.

I rather will submit me
to the malice

of a diverted blood
and bloody brother!

- But do not so.

I have 500 crowns,

the thrifty hire I saved

under your father.

All this I give you.

Let me be your servant.

Though I look old,
yet I am strong and lusty.

I'll do the service
of a younger man.

- Oh, good old man,

thou art not for the fashion
of these times

where none will sweat
but for promotion.

But come thy ways.

We'll go along together.

And I will follow thee,

to the last gasp,

with truth and loyalty.

♪ ♪

From 17 years

till now,

almost fourscore

here lived I...

♪ ♪

But now live here no more.

♪ ♪

At 17,
many their fortunes seek...

♪ ♪

But at fourscore,

it is too late a week.

♪ ♪

Yet fortune cannot
recompense me better

than to die well

and not my master's debtor.

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- Oh, my poor Rosalind.

Whither wilt thou go?

Oh, prithee be cheerful.

Know'st thou not the duke
hath banished me, his daughter?

- That he hath not.

- No, hath not?

Rosalind lacks then the love

which teaches thee that
thou and I am one.

Shall we be sundered?

Shall we part, sweet girl?

No.

Let my father seek
another heir.

Therefore devise with me

how we may fly,

whither to go
and what to bear with us.

And do not seek to take
your change upon you,

to bear your griefs yourself
and leave me out,

for, by this heaven,

now at our sorrows pale,

say what thou canst,

I'll go along with thee.

- Why, whither shall we go?

- To seek my uncle

in the forest of Arden.

- Alas, what danger
will it be to us,

maids as we are,

to travel forth so far?

- I'll put myself in poor
and mean attire

and with a kind of
umber smirch my face;

the like do you.

So shall we pass along
and never stir assailants.

- Were it not better,

because that I am more
than common tall,

that I did suit me
all points like a man?

- What shall I call
thee when thou art...

a man?

- I'll have no worse a name

than Jove's own page,

and therefore look you
call me Ganymede.

♪ ♪

- But what will
you be called?

- Something that hath
a reference to my state.

No longer Celia...

♪ ♪

But Aliena.

- But, cousin,
what if we assayed to steal

the clownish fool out
of your father's court?

Would he not be a comfort
to our travel?

- He'll go along o'er
the wide world with me.

♪ ♪

Let's away.

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♪ ♪

- God speed our flight.

Now go we in content,

to liberty
and not to banishment.

♪ ♪

♪ ♪

♪ ♪

Well, this is
the forest of Arden.

Now am I in Arden,
the more fool I.

When I was at home,
I was in a better place.

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Now, my co-mates

and brothers in exile,

hath not old custom

made this life
more sweet

than that
of painted pomp?

Are not these woods
more free from peril

than the envious court?

Here feel we not
the penalty of Adam,

the seasons' difference,

as the icy fang
and churlish chiding

of the winter's wind,

which, when it bites
and blows upon my body,

even till I shrink
with cold,

I smile and say,

"This is no flattery.

"These are counselors

"that feelingly persuade me

what I am."

Sweet are the uses
of adversity,

which, like the toad,
ugly and venomous,

wears yet a precious jewel
in his head.

And this, our life,

exempt from public haunt,

finds tongues in trees,

books in the running brooks,

sermons in stones,

and good...

In everything.

- I would not change it.

- Come, shall we go
and kill us venison?

♪ ♪

Jaques--

♪ ♪

And yet it irks me...

- Wait a minute, brother.

♪ ♪

- The poor dappled fools,

being native burghers
of this desert city,

should in their own confines
with forked heads

have their
round haunches gored.

- Indeed, my lord,

the melancholy Jaques
grieves at that,

and, in that kind,

swears you do more usurp

than doth your brother

that hath banished you.

♪ ♪

- Can it be possible

that no man saw them?

♪ ♪

- My lord,

the roynish clown,

at whom so oft your grace
was wont to laugh

is also missing.

♪ ♪

Hisperia, the princess'
gentlewoman,

confesses that
she secretly o'erheard

your daughter and her cousin

much commend the parts
and graces of the wrestler

that did but lately foil
the sinewy Charles,

and she believes,

wherever they are gone,

that youth is surely
in their company.

♪ ♪

- Send to his brother.

Fetch that gallant hither.

I'll make him find him.

Do this suddenly,

and let not search
and inquisition quail

to bring again
these foolish runaways!

♪ ♪

- Oh, Jupiter,
how weary are my spirits!

- I care not for my spirits,
if my legs were not weary.

- I could find it in my heart
to disgrace my man's apparel

and to cry like a woman,

but I must comfort
the weaker vessel.

Therefore courage,
good Aliena!

- I pray you, bear with me.

I cannot go no further.

- For my part, I'd rather bear
with you than bear you.

- That is the way
to make her scorn you still.

- Oh, Corin, if thou knew'st
how I do love her!

- I partly guess
for I have loved ere now.

- No, Corin, being old,
thou canst not guess...

Though in thy youth

thou wast as true a lover

as ever sighed
upon a midnight pillow,

but if thy love
were ever like to mine--

as sure I think
did never man love so--

how many actions
most ridiculous

hast thou been drawn to
by thy fantasy?

- Into a thousand
that I have forgotten.

- Then thou didst never
love so heartily!

If thou remember'st not
the slightest folly

that ever love
did make thee run into,

thou hast not loved.

Or if thou hast
not sat as I do now,

wearying thy hearer
in thy mistress' praise,

thou hast not loved.

Or if thou hast not
broke from company abruptly,

as my passion now makes me...

Thou hast not loved!

Oh, Phoebe,
Phoebe, Phoebe!

- Alas, poor shepherd.

Searching of thy wound.

I have by hard adventure
found mine own.

- And I mine.

I remember
when I was in love.

We that are true lovers
run into strange capers,

but as all
is mortal in nature,

so is all nature in love
mortal in folly.

- Thou speakest wiser
than thou art ware of.

- Nay, I shall ne'er
be ware of mine own wit

till I break
my shins against it.

- Jove, Jove.

This shepherd's passion
is much upon my fashion.

- And mine, though it grows
something stale with me.

- I pray you,

one of you
question yon man

if he for gold
will give us any food.

I faint almost to death.

- Holla, you!
Clown!

- Peace, fool!
He's not thy kinsman.

- Who calls?
- Your betters, sir.

- Else are they very wretched.

- Peace, I say.

Good even to you, friend.

- And to you, gentle sir,

and to you all.

- I prithee, shepherd,

if that love or gold
can in this desert place

buy entertainment,

bring us where we may rest
ourselves and feed.

There's a young maid
with travel much oppressed

and faints for succor.

- Fair sir, I pity her

and wish for her sake
more than for mine own

my fortunes were
more able to relieve her,

but I am shepherd
to another man

and do not shear
the fleeces that I graze.

My master is
of churlish disposition

and little recks
to find the way to heaven

by doing
deeds of hospitality.

Besides, his cote,
his flocks and bounds of feed

are now on sale,

and at our sheepcote now,
by reasons of his absence,

there is nothing
that you will feed on.

But what is, come see.

- I pray thee,
if it stand with honesty,

buy thou the cottage,

pasture, and the flock...

- And thou shalt have
to pay for it of us.

And we will mend
thy wages.

I like this place,

and willingly could
waste my time in it.

- Go with me.

If you like upon report
the soil, the profit,

and this kind of life,

I will your very faithful feeder
be and buy it with your gold

right suddenly.

♪ ♪

- ♪ Under the greenwood tree ♪

♪ Who loves to lie with me ♪

♪ And turn his merry note ♪

♪ Unto the sweet bird's throat ♪

♪ Come hither, come hither ♪

♪ Come hither, come ♪

♪ Here shall he see ♪

♪ No enemy ♪

♪ But winter and ♪

♪ Rough weather ♪

♪ ♪

- More.

More,
I prithee, more.

- It will make you melancholy,
Monsieur Jaques.

- I thank it.

More, I prithee, more.

I can suck melancholy
out of a song

as a weasel sucks eggs.

More, prithee, more.

- My voice is ragged.

I know I cannot please you.

- I do not desire you to please
me; I do desire you to sing.

Come, more.
Another stanza.

Call you 'em stanzas?

- What you will,
Monsieur Jaques.

- Nay, I care not
for their names.

They owe me nothing.

Will you sing?

- More at your request
than to please myself.

- Well then, if ever
I thank any man,

I'll thank you.

Come, warble.

- The duke hath been
all this day to look you.

- And I have been
all this day

to avoid him.

I'll go sleep

if I can.

If I cannot,

I'll rail against all
the first-born of Egypt.

♪ ♪

Good morrow, fool.

- No, sir, call me not fool till
heaven hath sent me fortune.

♪ ♪

♪ ♪

♪ ♪

♪ ♪

- Dear master,

I can go no further.

♪ ♪

Oh, I die for food.

♪ ♪

Here lie I down,

and measure out my grave.

♪ ♪

Farewell, kind master.

♪ ♪

♪ ♪

- What?

You look merrily!

- A fool, a fool!

I met a fool
in the forest,

a motley fool,
a miserable world!

As I do live by food,
I met a fool

who laid him down

and basked him
in the sun.

Says very wisely,

"It is 10:00,

thus we may see,"
quoth he,

"How the world wags.

"'Tis but an hour ago,
since it was 9:00,

"and after one hour more
'twill be 11:00,

"and so from hour to hour
we ripe and ripe.

"Then from hour to hour
we rot and rot.

And thereby hangs a tale."

When I did hear the motley fool
thus moral on the time,

my lungs began to crow
like chanticleer,

that fools should be
so deep contemplative,

and I did laugh
sans intermission.

- What fool is this?

- Oh, worthy fool!

One that hath been
a courtier,

and says if ladies be
but young and fair,

they have the gift
to know it.

And in his brain,
which is as dry

as the remainder biscuit
after a voyage,

he hath strange places
crammed with observation,

the which he vents
in mangled forms.

Oh, that I were a fool!

I am ambitious
for a motley coat.

- Thou shalt have one.

- It is my only suit,

provided that you weed
your better judgments

of all opinion
that grows rank in them,

that I am wise.

I must have liberty withal,

as large a charter
as the wind,

to blow on whom I please.

For so fools have.

Invest me
in my motley.

Give me leave
to speak my mind,

and I will
through and through

cleanse the foul body

of the infected world,

if they will patiently
receive my medicine.

Which is he
that killed the deer?

No deer.

- Forbear, and eat no more!

- Why, I have ate none yet.

- Nor shalt not
till necessity be served.

- Of what kind
should this cock come of?

- Art thou
thus boldened, man,

by thy distress,

or else a rude despiser
of good manners,

that in civility
thou seem'st so empty?

- You touched
my vein at first.

But forbear, I say: he dies
that touches any of this fruit

till I and my affairs
are answered!

- And you will not
be answered with reason,

I must die?

What would you have?

♪ ♪

Your gentleness
shall force

more than your force
move us to gentleness.

- I almost die for food,
and let me have it!

- Sit down and feed,

and welcome to our table.

♪ ♪

- Speak you so gently?

♪ ♪

Pardon me, I pray you.

I thought that all things
had been savage here.

Let gentleness
my strong enforcement be.

In the which hope I blush,

and hide my sword.

♪ ♪

- Therefore sit you down

in gentleness.

♪ ♪

There is an old poor man,

who after me have many a weary
step limped in pure love.

Till he be first sufficed,

oppressed with two weak evils,
age and hunger,

I will not touch a bit.

- Go find him out

and we will nothing waste
till you return.

- I thank ye, and be blessed
for your good comfort!

- Thou seest we are not
all alone unhappy.

This wide
and universal theater

presents more woeful pageants

than the scene
wherein we play in.

- All the world's a stage,

and all the men and women
merely players.

They have their exits
and their entrances,

and one man in his time
plays many parts,

his acts being seven ages.

At first the infant,

mewling and puking
in the nurse's arms.

Then the whining schoolboy,

with his satchel
and shining morning face,

creeping like snail
unwillingly to school.

Then the lover,
sighing like furnace,

with a woeful ballad made
to his mistress' eyebrow.

Then the soldier,

full of strange oaths
and bearded like the pard,

jealous in honor,

sudden and quick
in quarrel,

seeking the bubble reputation

even in the cannon's mouth.

Then the justice,
in fair round belly

with good capon lined,

with eyes severe
and beard of formal cut,

full of wise saws
and modern instances;

so he plays his part.

The sixth age shifts

into the lean
and slippered pantaloon,

with spectacles on nose
and pouch on side,

his youthful hose,
well saved,

a world too wide
for his shrunk shank.

And his big manly voice,

turning again
to a childish treble,

pipes and whistles
in his sound.

Last scene of all,

that ends this...

strange eventful history

is second childishness

and mere oblivion...

Sans teeth,

sans eyes...

Sans taste...

Sans everything.

- Welcome.

Set down your
venerable burden

and let him feed.

- I thank you most
for him.

So had you need.

I scarce can speak

to thank you for myself.

- Welcome, fall to.

Give us some music,

and, good cousin, sing.

♪ Blow,
blow thou winter wind ♪

♪ Thou art not so unkind ♪

♪ As man's ingratitude ♪

♪ Thy tooth is not so keen ♪

♪ Because thou art not seen ♪

♪ Although thy breath be rude ♪

♪ Heigh-ho ♪

♪ Sing heigh-ho ♪

♪ Unto the green holly ♪

♪ Most friendship is feigning ♪

♪ Most loving mere folly ♪

♪ Then heigh-ho
the holly ♪

♪ This life
is most jolly ♪

- Be truly welcome hither.

♪ ♪

I am the duke

that loved your father.

♪ ♪

Good old man,

thou art right welcome

as thy master is.

Give me your hand,

and let me all your fortunes
understand.

♪ ♪

- Not see him since?

Sir, sir,
that cannot be.

Find out thy brother,
wheresoe'er he is.

Seek him with candle,

bring him dead
or living.

Thy lands
and all things

that thou dost call thine
worth seizure

do we seize
into our hands,

till thou canst quit thee
by thy brother's mouth

of what we think
against thee.

- I never loved
my brother in my life.

♪ ♪

- More villain thou.

♪ ♪

♪ ♪

♪ ♪

- Hang there, my verse,

in witness of my love.

And thou,

thrice-crowned
queen of night,

survey with thy chaste eye

from thy pale sphere above,

thy huntress' name that
my full life doth sway.

Oh, Rosalind.

♪ ♪

These trees
shall be my books

and in their barks
my thoughts I'll character,

that every eye
which in this forest looks

shall see thy virtue
witnessed everywhere.

♪ ♪

Run.

Run, Orlando!

Carve on every tree

the fair, the chaste,

and unexpressive she!

Rosalind!

♪ ♪

♪ ♪

- Go on.
Go.

♪ ♪

And how like you
this shepherd's life,

master Touchstone?

♪ ♪

- Truly, shepherd,

in respect of itself,
it is a good life,

but in respect that
it is a shepherd's life,

it is naught.

In respect that it is solitary,
I like it very well,

but in respect
that it is private,

it is a very vile life.

Now, in respect
that it is in the fields,

it pleaseth me well,

but in respect
it is not in the court,

it is tedious.

Hast any philosophy
in thee, shepherd?

- No more but that I know
the more one sickens,

the worse at ease he is,

and that he that wants money,
means, and content

is without
three good friends;

that the property
of rain is to wet

and fire to burn;

that good pastures
makes fat sheep,

and that a great
cause of the night is...

Lack of the sun.

- A natural philosopher.

Wast ever in court, shepherd?

- No, truly.

- Then thou art damned.

- Nay, I hope.

- No, truly, thou art damned

like an ill-roasted egg,
all on one side.

- For not being at court?

Your reason.

- Why, if thou never
wast at court,

thou never sawest
good manners,

and if thou never
sawest good manners,

thy manners must
be wicked,

and wickedness is sin,

and sin is damnation.

Thou art in
a parlous state, shepherd.

- Not a whit, Touchstone.

Now, those that are good
manners at the court

are as ridiculous
in the country

as the behavior
of the country

is most mockable
at the court.

You told me you
salute not at the court,

but you kiss
your hands.

That courtesy would be uncleanly

if courtiers were shepherds.

- Instance, briefly.
Come, instance.

- Why, we're still
handling our ewes,

and their fells,
you know, are greasy.

- Why, do not your
courtier's hands sweat?

- Sir...

I am a true laborer.

Owe no man hate,

envy no man's happiness.

I'm glad of
other men's good.

Content with my harm.

The greatest of my pride

is to see my ewes graze

and my lambs suck.

- That is another
simple sin in you,

to bring the ewes
and the rams together

and to offer to get your living
by the copulation of cattle.

- "From the east
to western Ind,

"no jewel is
like Rosalind.

"Her worth,
being mounted on the wind,

"through all the world
bears Rosalind.

"All the pictures fairest lined

"are but black to Rosalind.

"Let no face be kept in mind

but the fair of Rosalind."

- Sweetest nut
hath sourest rind,

such a nut
is Rosalind.

- Peace, you dull fool!

I found them on a tree.

- Truly, the tree yields
bad fruit.

Come, shepherd, let us
make an honorable retreat.

Oh, you--

- Audrey?

- Come on.

Know you who hath done this?

- Is it a man?

- And a chain that you once wore
about his neck?

- Change your color?
- I prithee, who?

- Oh, lord.

- Nay, but who is it?

- Is it possible?

- Nay, I prithee now with
the most petitionary vehemence,

tell me who it is.

- Oh, wonderful!

It is young Orlando,

that tripped up
the wrestler's heels

and your heart
both in an instant.

- Orlando?

- Orlando.

- What did he when
thou sawest him?

What said he?

How looked he?
Wherein went he?

What makes he here?
Did he ask for me?

Where remains he?
How parted he with thee?

And when shalt
thou see him again?

Answer me in one word!

♪ ♪

- I found him under a tree,

like a dropped acorn.

- It may well be called
Jove's tree

when it drops forth such fruit.

- Give me audience, good madam.
- Proceed.

- There he lay,
stretched along

like a wounded knight.

- Though it be a pity
to see such a sight,

it well becomes
the ground.

- Cry "holla"
to thy tongue, I prithee.

It curvets unseasonably.

He was furnished
like a hunter.

- Oh, ominous!

He comes to kill my heart.

- I would sing my song
without a burden.

Thou bringest me
out of tune!

- Do you not know
I am a woman?

When I think,
I must speak!

♪ ♪

- I thank you
for your company,

but, good faith, I had as lief
have been myself alone.

- And so had I,
but yet for fashion's sake,

I thank you too
for your society.

- God by you.

Let's meet
as little as we can.

- I do desire we may be
better strangers.

- I pray you,
mar no more trees

with writing love songs
in their barks.

- I pray you,
mar no more of my verses

with reading them
ill-favoredly.

- Rosalind is your love's name?

- Yes, just.

- I do not like her name.

- There was no thought
of pleasing you

when she was christened.

- What stature is she of?

- Just as high as my heart.

- You are full
of pretty answers.

- Not so,
but I answer you right.

- You have a nimble wit.
Will you sit down with me?

And we two will rail against
our mistress the world

and all our misery.

- I will chide no breather
in the world but myself,

against whom
I know most faults.

- The worst fault you have

is to be in love.

'Tis a fault I will not change
for your best virtue.

I am weary of you.

By my troth, I was seeking
for a fool when I found you.

He is drowned
in the brook.

Look but in
and you shall see him.

- Why, there I shall
see mine own figure.

- Adieu,
good Monsieur Melancholy.

- Farewell,
good Signior Love.

♪ ♪

I will speak to him
like a saucy lackey,

and under that habit
play the knave with him.

♪ ♪

Do you hear, forester?

- Very well.

What would you?

- I pray you,
what is't o'clock?

- You should ask me
what time o' day.

There's no clock
in the forest.

- Then there's no true lover
in the forest,

else sighing every minute
and groaning every hour

would detect the lazy foot
of time as well as a clock!

- Where dwell you,
pretty youth?

- With this shepherdess,
my sister,

here in the skirts
of the forest,

like fringe upon a petticoat.

- Are you native
of this place?

Your accent is something finer
than you could purchase

in so removed a dwelling.

- I've been told so of many,

but indeed, an old
religious uncle of mine

taught me to speak,

who was in his youth
an inland man,

one that knew
courtship too well,

for there he fell in love.

I have heard him read
many lectures against it,

and I thank God
I'm not a woman,

to be touched with
so many giddy offences

as he hath generally taxed
their whole sex withal.

- Can you remember any
of the principal evils

that he laid to the charge
of women?

- There were none principal.

They were all like one another
as half-pence are,

every one fault
seeming monstrous

till his fellow fault
came to match it.

- I prithee,
recount some of them.

- No, I will not
cast away my physic

but on those
that are sick.

There is a man
haunts the forest,

that abuses
our young plants

with carving "Rosalind"
on their barks,

hangs odes upon hawthorns

and elegies on brambles,

all forsooth deifying
the name of Rosalind.

If I could meet
that fancy-monger

I would give him
some good counsel,

for he seems to have
the quotidian of love upon him.

- I am he
that is so love shaked.

- There's none
of my uncle's marks upon you.

He taught me how
to know a man in love,

in which cage of rushes I am
sure you are not prisoner.

- What were his marks?

- A lean cheek,
which you have not,

a blue eye and sunken,

which you have not,

an unquestionable spirit,
which you have not.

Then your hose
should be ungartered,

your bonnet unbanded,

your sleeve unbuttoned,

your shoe untied,

and everything about you

demonstrating
a careless desolation,

but you are no such man.

You are rather point-device
in your accoutrements

as loving yourself

than seeming the lover
of any other.

- Fair youth, I would I could
make thee believe I love.

- Me believe it?

You may as soon make her
that you love believe it.

- I swear to thee, youth,

by the white hand of Rosalind,
I am that he,

that unfortunate he.

- But are you so much in love
as your rhymes speak?

- Neither rhyme nor reason
can express how much.

- Love is merely a madness,

and, I tell you,
deserves as well a dark house

and a whip as madmen do,

And the reason why they are not
so punished and cured

is that the lunacy
is so ordinary

that the whippers
are in love too.

Yet I profess curing it
by counsel.

- Did you ever cure any so?

- Yes, one,

and in this manner:

he was to imagine me
his love,

his mistress,

and I set him every day

to woo me...

At which time would I,
being but a moonish youth,

grieve, be effeminate,

changeable,
longing and liking,

proud, fantastical,

apish, shallow,
inconstant,

full of tears,
full of smiles,

for every passion
something

and for no passion
truly anything,

as boys and women
are for the most part

cattle of this color,

would now like him,
now loathe him,

then entertain him,

then forswear him,
now weep for him,

then spit at him,
that I drave my suitor

from his mad humor of love

to a living humor of madness,

which was to forswear
the full stream of the world

and to live in a nook
merely monastic.

And thus I cured him,

and this way will I take
upon me to wash your liver

as clean as a sound
sheep's heart,

that there shall not
be one spot of love in it.

- I would not be cured, youth.

- I would cure you if you would
but call me Rosalind

and come every day
and woo me.

- Now by the faith
of my love, I will.

- Will you?

- With all my heart,
good youth.

- Nay, you must call me
Rosalind.

♪ ♪

♪ ♪

I will fetch up
your goats, Audrey.

And how, Audrey?

Am I the man yet?

Doth my simple feature
content you?

Your features.

Lord warrant us.

What features?

- I am here with thee.

And thy goats,

as the most capricious poet,

honest Ovid,
was among the Goths.

Truly, I would the gods
had made thee poetical.

- Ooh.

I do not know
what "poetical" is.

Is it honest in deed
and word?

Hmm?

Is it a true thing?

No, truly,

for the truest poetry
is the most feigning,

and lovers are given
to poetry,

and what they swear
in poetry

it may be said
as lovers they do feign.

- Do you wish then
that the gods

had made me...

poetical?

- I do, truly.
- Oh.

- For thou swearest to me
thou art honest.

- Mm-hmm.

- Now, if thou wert a poet,

I might have some hope
thou didst feign.

- Would you not
have me honest?

- No, truly,

unless thou wert hard-favored,

for honesty coupled to beauty

is to have honey a sauce
to sugar.

- Well, I am not fair,

and therefore I pray
the gods make me honest.

- Truly, and to cast away
honesty upon a foul slut

were to put good meat
into an unclean dish.

- I am not a slut!

Though I thank the gods
I am foul!

- Well, praised be the gods
for thy foulness.

Sluttishness may come hereafter.

But be it as it may be,

I will...

marry thee.

Yahoo!

And to that end I have been
with the vicar

of the next village,
who hath promised to meet me

in this place of the forest
and to couple us.

- Ooh.

- I would fain
see this meeting.

- Oh, well,
the gods give us joy!

- Courage!

As horns are odious,

they are necessary.

Oh.

You are well met.

Will you dispatch us here
or shall we follow you

to your chapel?

- Is there none here
to give the woman?

- I will not take her
on gift of any man.

- Truly, she must be given,

or the marriage is not lawful.

- Proceed, proceed.

I'll give her.

- Good even,
good monsieur what-ye-call-it.

How do you, sir?

You are very well met.

God will yield you
for your last company.

I am very glad to see you.

Even a toy in hand here, sir.

Nay, pray, be covered.

- Will you be married, motley?

- As the ox hath his bow,
sir, the horse his curb

and the falcon her bells,
so man hath his desires.

And as pigeons bill,

so wedlock would be nibbling.

- And will you, being
a man of your breeding,

be married under a bush
like a beggar?

Get you to church
and have a good priest

that can tell you
what marriage is.

- I am not in the mind,

but I were better to be married
of him than of another.

For he is not like
to marry me well,

and not being well married,
it will be a good excuse

for me hereafter
to leave my wife.

- Go thou with me
and let me counsel thee.

- We must be married.

♪ ♪

- Never talk to me,
I will weep.

Do, I prithee,
but have the grace to consider

that tears do not
become a man.

- But have I not cause to weep?

- As good cause as one would
desire, therefore weep.

- But why did he swear
he would come this morning

and comes not?

- Nay, certainly,
there is no truth in him.

- Do you think so?

Not true in love?

- Yes, when he is in,

but I think he is not in!

- You have heard him
swear downright he was.

- "Was" is not "is."

- Mistress and master,

you have oft inquired
after the shepherd

that complained of love,

who you saw sitting
by me on the turf,

praising the proud
disdainful shepherdess

that was his mistress.

- Well, and what of him?

- If you will see
a pageant of true love,

go hence a while.

Ow!

♪ ♪

- Sweet Phoebe,

do not scorn me!

Do not, Phoebe.

Say that you love me not,
but say not so in bitterness.

- I would not be
thy executioner.

I fly thee,
for I would not injure thee.

- If ever,
as that ever may be near,

you meet in some fresh cheek
the power of fancy,

then shall you know
the wounds invisible

that love's keen arrows make.

- But till that time
come not thou near me,

and when that time comes,
afflict me with thy mocks,

pity me not, as till that
time I shall not pity thee.

- And why, I pray you?

Who might be your mother

that you insult, exult,

and all at once,
over the wretched?

What though you
have no beauty,

as, by my faith, I see no more
in you than without candle

may go dark to bed.

Must you be therefore
proud and pitiless?

♪ ♪

Why, what means this?

♪ ♪

Why do you look on me?

♪ ♪

'Od's my little life,

I think she means
to tangle my eyes too!

♪ ♪

No, faith,
proud mistress,

hope not after it.

'Tis not your inky brows,

your black silk hair,

your bugle eyeballs,
nor your cheek of cream

that can entame my spirits
to your worship!

You foolish shepherd,

wherefore do you
follow her?

You are a thousand times
a properer man than she a woman.

'Tis not her glass,
but you that flatters her.

But, mistress,
know yourself.

Down on your knees!

And thank heaven, fasting,
for a good man's love,

for I must tell you
friendly in your ear,

sell when you can.

You are not for all markets.

Cry the man mercy.

Love him.

Take his offer.

- Sweet youth, I pray you,

chide a year together.

I had rather hear you chide
than this man woo.

- He's fallen in love
with your foulness

and she'll fall in love
with my anger.

I pray you, do not
fall in love with me,

for I am falser
than vows made in wine.

♪ ♪

Besides...

I like you not.

♪ ♪

Dead shepherd,

now I find
thy saw of might,

"Whoever loved that
loved not at first sight?"

- Sweet Phoebe.

Huh?

What sayest thou, Silvius?
- Sweet Phoebe, pity me.

- Oh, why, I am sorry for thee,
gentle Silvius.

- Wherever sorrow is,
relief would be.

If you do sorrow at my grief
in love,

by giving love your sorrow
and my grief

were both extermined.

- Thou hast my love.

Is not that neighborly?

- I would have you!

- Oh.

Know'st thou the youth
that spoke to me erewhile?

- Not very well,
but I have met him oft.

- Think not I love him,
though I ask for him.

'Tis but a peevish boy,

yet he talks well.

Oh, it is a pretty youth.

Not very pretty.

There was a pretty redness
in his lip,

a little riper
and more lusty red

than that
mixed in his cheek;

'twas just the difference
betwixt the constant red

and the mingled damask.

I have more cause to hate him
than to love him,

for what had he to do
to chide at me?

He said mine eyes
were black

and my hair black,

and now I am remembered,
scorned at me.

I marvel why
I answered not again.

I'll write to him
a very taunting letter,

and thou shalt bear it.

Wilt thou, Silvius?

Phoebe...

With all my heart.

- I'll write it straight.

The matter's in my head
and in mine heart.

I'll be bitter with him
and passing short.

Go with me, Silvius.

- We shall find a time, Audrey.

Patience, gentle Audrey!

- Faith, the priest
was good enough,

for all the old
gentleman's saying.

- Audrey, there is a youth
here in the forest

lays claim to you.

♪ ♪

- He hath no interest in me

in the world.

♪ ♪

- It is meat and drink to me
to see a clown.

♪ ♪

- William.

♪ ♪

- Good even, Audrey.

- God ye good even, William.

♪ ♪

- And good even to you, sir.

- Good even, gentle friend.

Oh, cover thy head.
Cover thy head.

Nay, prithee, be covered.

How old are you, friend?

5 and 20, sir.

- A ripe age.

Is thy name William?

- William, sir.
- A fair name.

Wast born in the forest here?

- Aye, sir,
I thank God.

- "Thank God,"
good answer.

Art rich?

- Faith, sir,

so-so.

- "So-so" is good,
very good.

Very excellent good,

and yet it is not;
it is but so-so.

Art thou wise?

- Aye, sir,

I have a pretty wit.

Why, thou sayest well.

I do now remember a saying:

"The fool doth think
he is wise,

but the wise man knows
himself to be a fool."

You do love this maid?

- I do, sir.

- Give me your hand.

Art thou learned?
- No, sir.

Then learn this of me.

- To have is to have,

for it is a figure in rhetoric
that drink

being poured out of a 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.

- Which he, sir?

- He, sir,

that must marry
this woman!

Therefore, you clown,

abandon the society
of this female,

or, clown, I kill thee!

I will kill thee 150 ways.

Therefore depart.

- Do, good William.

- God rest you merry, sir.

♪ ♪

♪ ♪

♪ ♪

Trip, Audrey!

Trip, Audrey!

♪ ♪

- I prithee, pretty youth,

let me be better
acquainted with thee.

They say you are
a melancholy fellow.

- I am so.

I do love it
better than laughing.

- Those that are
in extremity of either

are abominable fellows

and betray themselves
to every modern censure

worse than drunkards.

- Why, 'tis good to be sad
and say nothing.

- Why, then, 'tis good
to be a post.

- I have neither
the scholar's melancholy,

which is emulation,

nor the musician's,
which is fantastical,

nor the courtier's,
which is proud,

nor the soldier's,
which is ambitious,

nor the lawyer's,
which is politic,

nor the lady's,
which is nice,

nor the lover's,
which is all these,

but it is a melancholy
of mine own,

compounded
of many simples,

extracted
from many objects,

and indeed the...

Sundry contemplation
of my travels,

in which my often rumination
wraps me in a...

Most humorous sadness.

- A traveler!

By my faith, you have
great reason to be sad.

I fear you have sold your own
lands to see other men's.

Then to have seen much
and to have nothing

is to have rich eyes
and poor hands.

- Yes.

I have gained my experience.

- I'd rather have a fool
to make me merry

than experience to make me sad,

and to travel for it too.

- Good day and happiness,
dear Rosalind!

- Nay, then, God by you,

and you talk
in blank verse.

- Farewell,
Monsieur Traveler.

Why, how now, Orlando!

Where have you been
all this while?

You a lover?

And you serve me
such another trick.

Never come in my sight more.

- My fair Rosalind, I come
within an hour of my promise.

- Break an hour's promise
in love!

- Pardon me, dear Rosalind.

- Nay!

And you be so tardy.

Come no more in my sight.

I had as lief be wooed of a...

snail.

- Of a snail?

- Aye, of a snail,

for though
he comes slowly,

he carries his house
on his head.

And I am your Rosalind.

- It pleases him
to call you so,

but he hath a Rosalind
of a better leer than you.

- Come.
Woo me.

Woo me, for now I am
in a holiday humor

and like enough
to consent.

What would you say
to me now,

and I were your very,
very Rosalind?

I would kiss before I spoke.

- Nay, you were better
speak first.

Am not I your Rosalind?

- I take some joy
to say you are

because I would be
talking of her.

- Oh, well, in her person,

I say I will not have you.

- Then in mine own person I die.

- Men have died
from time to time

and worms have eaten them,
but not for love.

- I would not have my right
Rosalind of this mind,

for, I protest,
her frown might kill me.

- 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.

- Then love me, Rosalind.

- Yes, faith, will I,

Fridays and Saturdays and all.

- And wilt thou have me?

- Aye, and 20 such.

- What sayest thou?

- Are you not good?

- I hope so.

- 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?

- Pray thee, marry us.

♪ ♪

- I cannot say the words.

- You must begin,

"Will you, Orlando"...

♪ ♪

- Go to.

♪ ♪

Will you, Orlando,

have to wife

this Rosalind?

♪ ♪

- I will.

- I do take thee,

Orlando...

♪ ♪

For my husband.

♪ ♪

♪ ♪

- Now tell me

how long you would have her

after you have
possessed her.

- For ever and a day.

- 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 hyena,

and that when thou art
inclined to sleep.

- But will my Rosalind do so?

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

- Oh, but she is wise.

♪ ♪

By 2:00, Rosalind,
I will be with thee again.

- Alas, dear love,
I cannot lack thee two hours.

- I must attend the duke
at dinner.

By 2:00
I will be with thee again.

- Aye, go your ways,
go your ways.

I knew what you would prove.

My friends told me as much,
and I thought no less.

That flattering tongue
of yours won me.

- 2:00 is your hour?

- Aye, sweet Rosalind.

♪ ♪

- You have simply misused
our sex

in your love-prate.

♪ ♪

- Oh, coz,

coz, coz,

my pretty little coz,

that thou didst know
how many fathom deep

I am in love!

♪ ♪

But it cannot be sounded.

♪ ♪

My affection

hath an unknown bottom,

like the bay
of Portugal.

♪ ♪

I'll tell thee, Aliena,

I cannot be out of the sight
of Orlando.

♪ ♪

I'll go find a shadow

and sigh till he come.

♪ ♪

- And I'll sleep.

♪ ♪

♪ ♪

♪ ♪

♪ ♪

♪ ♪

♪ ♪

♪ ♪

- Shh, shh, shh.

- Shh.

Shh, shh.

♪ ♪

- Rosalind.

♪ ♪

- "He that brings
this love to thee

little knows
this love in me."

- Phoebe did write it?

- Wilt thou love
such a woman?

What?

To make thee
an instrument

and play false strains
upon thee!

Not to be endured!

Well, go your way to her,

for I see love hath made
thee a tame snake,

and say this to her:

that if she love me,
I charge her to love thee.

If she will not,
I will never have her

unless thou entreat for her.

If you be a true lover, hence,

and not a word.

♪ ♪

- Pray you,

if you know,

where in the purlieus
of this forest

stands a sheepcote

fenced about
with olive trees?

♪ ♪

- West of this place,

down in the neighbor bottom.

♪ ♪

The rank of osiers
by the murmuring stream

left on your right hand
brings you to the place.

♪ ♪

But at this hour
the house doth keep itself.

There's none within.

♪ ♪

- If that an eye may profit
by a tongue,

then I should know you.

♪ ♪

♪ ♪

Are not you the owner of
the house I did inquire for?

- It is no boast,
being asked,

to say we are.

♪ ♪

- Orlando...

doth commend him
to you both,

and to that youth
he calls his Rosalind

he sends this
bloody napkin.

Are you he?

- Go on.

Come on.

Come on.

- Are you his brother?

- Was't you he rescued?

- Was't you that did so oft
contrive to kill him?

- 'Twas I,
but 'tis not I.

Brief,
I recovered him,

bound up his wound,
and after some small space,

being strong at heart,
he sent me hither,

stranger as I am,
to tell this story,

that you might excuse
his broken promise.

- I pray you,
tell your brother

how well I counterfeited.

Heigh-ho.

- This was not counterfeit.

There is too great testimony
in your complexion

that it was a passion
of earnest.

- Counterfeit, I assure you.

- Well then, take a good heart
and counterfeit to be a man.

- So I do, but in faith,

I should have been
a woman by right.

- Come, you look
paler and paler.

♪ ♪

Neither call the giddiness
of it in question,

the poverty of her,
the small acquaintance,

my sudden wooing,

nor her sudden consenting,

but...

say with me,

I love Aliena.

Say with her
that she loves me.

♪ ♪

Consent with both

that we may enjoy each other.

It shall be to your good,

for our father's house
and all the revenue

that was old Sir Rowland's
will I estate upon you...

♪ ♪

And here live and die
a shepherd.

♪ ♪

- You have my consent.

♪ ♪

Let your wedding
be tomorrow.

Thither will I
invite the duke

and all's contented followers.

♪ ♪

♪ ♪

Go you and prepare Aliena.

♪ ♪

♪ ♪

♪ ♪

My dear Orlando...

How it grieves me to see thee
wear thy heart in a scarf.

- It is my arm.

- I thought thy heart
had been wounded

with the claws of a lion.

- Wounded it is,

but with the eyes of a lady.

- Did your brother tell you
how I counterfeited to swoon

when he showed me
your handkerchief?

- Aye,

and greater
wonders than that.

- Your brother and my sister

no sooner met
but they looked,

no sooner looked
but they loved,

no sooner loved
but they sighed,

no sooner sighed but they asked
one another the reason,

no sooner knew the reason
but they sought the remedy,

and in these degrees
have they made

a pair of stairs to marriage.

- They shall be married
tomorrow,

and I will bid the duke
to the nuptial.

But, oh,

how bitter a thing it is

to look into happiness
through another man's eyes.

By so much the more
shall I tomorrow be

at the height
of heart-heaviness

by how much I shall
think my brother happy

in having what he wishes for.

- Why, then,

tomorrow I cannot
serve your turn

for Rosalind?

- I can live no longer
by thinking.

- I will weary you then
no longer with idle talking.

Believe then,

if you please,

that I can do
strange things.

♪ ♪

I have, since I was
three year old,

conversed with a magician

most profound in his art

and yet not damnable.

♪ ♪

If you do love Rosalind
so near the heart

as your gesture
cries it out,

when your brother
marries Aliena,

shall you marry her.

I know into what straits
of fortune she is driven,

and it is not
impossible to me,

if it appear not
inconvenient to you,

to set her before
your eyes tomorrow

human as she is,
and without any danger.

- Speakest thou
in sober meanings?

♪ ♪

- If you will be
married tomorrow,

you shall,

and to Rosalind,

if you will.

♪ ♪

- Youth, you have done me
much ungentleness

to show the letter
that I writ to you.

- I care not if I have.

It is my study to seem
despiteful and ungentle to you.

You are there followed
by a faithful shepherd.

Look upon him, love him;
he worships you.

- Good shepherd, tell this youth
what 'tis to love.

- It is to be all made
of sighs and tears,

and so am I for Phoebe.

And I for Ganymede.
- And I for Rosalind.

- And I for no woman.

- It is to be all made
of faith and service,

and so am I for Phoebe.

- And I for Ganymede.

- And I for Rosalind.
- And I for no woman.

- It is to be all made
of fantasy,

all made of passion
and all made of wishes,

all adoration,
duty, and observance,

all humbleness,
all patience,

and impatience,
all purity, all trial,

all obedience,
and so am I for Phoebe.

- And so am I for Ganymede.

- And so am I for Rosalind.

- And so am I for no woman.

- If this be so, why blame you
me to love you?

- If this be so, why blame
you me to love you?

- If this be so, why blame you
me to love you?

- Why do you speak too,
"Why blame you me to love you"?

- To her that is not here,
nor doth not hear!

- Ganymede!
- Phoebe!

- Pray you,
no more of this!

'Tis like the howling
of Irish wolves

against the moon!

I will help you
if I can.

I would love you
if I could.

Tomorrow meet here
all together.

I will marry you,
if ever I marry woman,

and I'll be married
tomorrow.

I will satisfy you,
if ever I satisfy man,

and you shall be
married tomorrow.

I will content you, if what
pleases you contents you,

and you shall be
married tomorrow.

As you love Rosalind,
meet.

As you love Phoebe,
meet.

And as I love no woman,

I'll meet.

So fare you well.

I have left you commands.

- I'll not fail
if I live.

- Nor I.
- Nor I.

♪ ♪

♪ ♪

♪ ♪

- Ah.
Welcome, welcome.

♪ ♪

He is in the forest
of Arden,

and many merry men
with him,

and there they live like
the old Robin Hood of England.

They say many young gentlemen
flock to him every day,

and fleet the time carelessly,

as they did
in the golden world.

♪ ♪

♪ ♪

♪ ♪

- Dost thou believe,
Orlando,

that the boy can do all this
that he hath promised?

- I sometimes do believe

and sometimes do not,

as those that fear,
they hope,

and know they fear.

- I do remember
in this shepherd boy

some lively touches

of my daughter's favor.

- My lord, the first time
that I ever saw him

methought he was a brother
to your daughter.

There is, sure,

another flood toward,

and these couples
are coming to the ark.

Here comes a pair
of very strange beasts.

Audrey!

- Salutation and
greeting to you all!

Mwah, mwah, mwah.

I press in here, sir,

amongst the rest
of the country copulatives,

to swear
and to forswear.

According as marriage binds
and blood breaks.

A poor virgin, sir,

an ill-favored thing, sir,
but mine own.

A poor humor of mine,
sir, to take that

that no man else will.

- Is't not this
a rare fellow, my lord?

He's as good at anything

and yet a fool.

♪ ♪

- 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.

♪ ♪

♪ ♪

- To you I give myself,

for I am yours.

♪ ♪

To you I give myself,

for I am yours.

♪ ♪

- If there be truth
in sight,

you are my daughter.

♪ ♪

- If there be truth
in sight,

you are my Rosalind.

♪ ♪

♪ ♪

- I'll have no father,

if you be not he.

♪ ♪

I'll have no husband,

if you be not he.

♪ ♪

No ne'er wed woman,
if you be not she.

♪ ♪

♪ ♪

- 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.

♪ ♪

♪ ♪

- 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,

addressed a mighty power,

which were on foot,
in his own conduct,

purposely to take
his brother here

and 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 banished brother,

and all their lands

restored to them again
that were with him exiled.

This to be true

I do engage my life.

♪ ♪

- Welcome, young man.

♪ ♪

Thou offer'st fairly
to thy brothers' wedding.

♪ ♪

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-fallen dignity

and fall into our
rustic revelry!

Play, music!

And you, brides
and bridegrooms all,

with measure heaped in joy,
to the measure fall!

- Sir,

by your patience.

If I heard you rightly,

the duke hath put on
a religious life

and thrown into neglect
the pompous court?

- He hath.

- To him will I.

Out of these convertites

there is much matter
to be heard and learned.

You to your former honor
I bequeath.

Your patience and your virtue
well deserves it.

So...

to your pleasures.

I am for other
than for dancing measures.

- Stay.

Jaques, stay.

- To see no pastime, I.

What you would have

I'll stay to know
at some abandoned cave.

- Proceed.

Proceed!

We'll so begin
these rites,

as we do trust
they'll end

in true delights!

♪ It was a lover
and his lass ♪

♪ With a hey and a ho ♪

♪ And a hey nonino ♪

♪ That o'er the green corn field
did pass ♪

♪ In the springtime,
the only pretty ring time ♪

♪ When birds do sing ♪

♪ Hey, ding a-ding, ding, ding ♪

♪ Sweet lovers ♪

♪ Sweet lovers ♪

♪ Sweet lovers
love the spring ♪

♪ ♪

♪ ♪

♪ ♪

♪ This carol they began
that hour ♪

♪ With a hey and a ho ♪

♪ And a hey nonino ♪

♪ How that a life was
but a flower ♪

♪ In springtime,
the only pretty ring time ♪

♪ When birds do sing ♪

♪ Hey ding a-ding, ding, ding ♪

♪ Sweet lovers ♪

♪ Sweet lovers ♪

♪ Sweet lovers
love the spring ♪

♪ ♪

♪ And therefore
take the present time ♪

♪ With a hey and a ho ♪

♪ And a hey nonino ♪

♪ For love is crowned
with the prime ♪

♪ In springtime,
the only pretty ring time ♪

♪ When birds do sing ♪

♪ Hey ding a-ding, ding, ding ♪

♪ Sweet lovers ♪

♪ Sweet lovers ♪

♪ Sweet lovers
love the spring ♪

♪ ♪

♪ Sweet lovers ♪

♪ Sweet lovers
love the spring ♪

♪ ♪

- It is not the fashion to see
the lady the epilogue,

but it is no more unhandsome
than to see the lord

the prologue.

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.

My way is to conjure you,

and I'll begin
with the women.

Hmm.

I charge you,
oh, women,

for the love
you bear to men,

to like as much
of this play as please you.

And I charge you...

Oh, men...

For the love
you bear to women--

as I perceive by your simpering
none of you hates them--

that between you and the women
the play may please.

If I were a woman,
I would kiss as many of you

as had beards that pleased me,

complexions that liked me,

and breaths
that I defied not.

And, I am sure,
as many of you as have

good beards or good faces
or sweet breaths will,

for my kind offer,
when I make curtsy,

bid me...

Farewell.

And cut.

♪ ♪

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