List iconAs You Like It:
Act 3, scene 5
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As You Like It
Act 3, scene 5



Characters in the Play

Entire Play

In As You Like It, witty words and romance play out against the disputes of divided pairs of brothers. Orlando’s older…

Act 1, scene 1

Orlando demands that his elder brother Oliver give him part of the money left by their father. Oliver decides to…

Act 1, scene 2

Orlando wins the wrestling match and, at the same time, wins the heart of Rosalind, daughter of the legitimate duke,…

Act 1, scene 3

Duke Frederick suddenly decides to banish Rosalind. His daughter Celia, determined to go with Rosalind into exile, suggests that they…

Act 2, scene 1

In the Forest of Arden, the banished duke (Duke Senior) and the courtiers who share his exile discuss their life…

Act 2, scene 2

Duke Frederick, discovering Celia’s disappearance, suspects Orlando. He sends servants to bring Orlando to court.

Act 2, scene 3

Orlando learns from Adam, an old servant, that Oliver plans to kill Orlando. Adam and Orlando decide to go in…

Act 2, scene 4

Rosalind, Celia, and Touchstone reach the Forest of Arden. Rosalind is in disguise as a boy named Ganymede and Celia…

Act 2, scene 5

Amiens’ song celebrating life in the woods is mocked by Jaques’ parody of the song.

Act 2, scene 6

Orlando leaves Adam, near starvation, under a tree and goes off determined to find food.

Act 2, scene 7

As Duke Senior and his companions sit down to eat, Orlando enters, demanding food. Welcomed by the duke, he brings…

Act 3, scene 1

Duke Frederick gives Oliver one year to produce Orlando. In the interim, he seizes Oliver’s lands.

Act 3, scene 2

Orlando hangs poems in praise of Rosalind on trees in the forest, where Rosalind and Celia find them. In disguise…

Act 3, scene 3

Touchstone, desiring a goat-keeper named Audrey, has arranged for a country priest to marry them in the woods. Jaques persuades…

Act 3, scene 4

Corin invites “Ganymede” and “Aliena” to observe the lovelorn Silvius as Silvius courts the disdainful Phoebe.

Act 3, scene 5

“Ganymede” intervenes to try to help Silvius prevail over Phoebe and win her love. Instead, Phoebe falls in love with…

Act 4, scene 1

Rosalind, as Ganymede, pretends to be Rosalind while Orlando courts her. With Celia as priest, they go through the beginning…

Act 4, scene 2

Duke Senior’s courtiers celebrate their having killed a deer.

Act 4, scene 3

Phoebe sends “Ganymede” a letter offering herself in marriage. As Rosalind and Celia wait for Orlando, they learn that he…

Act 5, scene 1

Touchstone verbally overpowers William, a rival for Audrey’s love.

Act 5, scene 2

Orlando, envious that his brother Oliver and “Aliena,” having fallen in love, plan to be married immediately, tells “Ganymede” how…

Act 5, scene 3

Touchstone and Audrey listen while two pages sing.

Act 5, scene 4

In the presence of Duke Senior and his lords, “Ganymede” reminds Orlando, Silvius, and Phoebe of their promises. “He” and…

Act 5, epilogue

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Scene 5
Enter Silvius and Phoebe.

 Sweet Phoebe, do not scorn me. Do not, Phoebe.
 Say that you love me not, but say not so
 In bitterness. The common executioner,
 Whose heart th’ accustomed sight of death makes
5 hard,
 Falls not the axe upon the humbled neck
 But first begs pardon. Will you sterner be
 Than he that dies and lives by bloody drops?

Enter, unobserved, Rosalind as Ganymede, Celia as
Aliena, and Corin.

 I would not be thy executioner.
10 I fly thee, for I would not injure thee.
 Thou tell’st me there is murder in mine eye.
 ’Tis pretty, sure, and very probable
 That eyes, that are the frail’st and softest things,
 Who shut their coward gates on atomies,
15 Should be called tyrants, butchers, murderers.
 Now I do frown on thee with all my heart,
 And if mine eyes can wound, now let them kill thee.
 Now counterfeit to swoon; why, now fall down;
 Or if thou canst not, O, for shame, for shame,
20 Lie not, to say mine eyes are murderers.
 Now show the wound mine eye hath made in thee.
 Scratch thee but with a pin, and there remains
 Some scar of it. Lean upon a rush,
 The cicatrice and capable impressure
25 Thy palm some moment keeps. But now mine eyes,
 Which I have darted at thee, hurt thee not;
 Nor I am sure there is no force in eyes
 That can do hurt.

As You Like It
ACT 3. SC. 5

SILVIUS O dear Phoebe,
30 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.
PHOEBE  But till that time
35 Come not thou near me. And when that time
 Afflict me with thy mocks, pity me not,
 As till that time I shall not pity thee.
ROSALIND, as Ganymede, coming forward 
 And why, I pray you? Who might be your mother,
40 That you insult, exult, and all at once,
 Over the wretched? What though you have no
 As, by my faith, I see no more in you
 Than without candle may go dark to bed—
45 Must you be therefore proud and pitiless?
 Why, what means this? Why do you look on me?
 I see no more in you than in the ordinary
 Of nature’s sale-work.—’Od’s my little life,
 I think she means to tangle my eyes, too.—
50 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,
55 Like foggy south puffing with wind and rain?
 You are a thousand times a properer man
 Than she a woman. ’Tis such fools as you
 That makes the world full of ill-favored children.
 ’Tis not her glass but you that flatters her,
60 And out of you she sees herself more proper
 Than any of her lineaments can show her.—
 But, mistress, know yourself. Down on your knees
 And thank heaven, fasting, for a good man’s love,

As You Like It
ACT 3. SC. 5

 For I must tell you friendly in your ear,
65 Sell when you can; you are not for all markets.
 Cry the man mercy, love him, take his offer.
 Foul is most foul, being foul to be a scoffer.—
 So take her to thee, shepherd. Fare you well.
 Sweet youth, I pray you chide a year together.
70 I had rather hear you chide than this man woo.
ROSALIND,as Ganymede He’s fall’n in love with your
 foulness. (To Silvius.) And she’ll fall in love with
 my anger. If it be so, as fast as she answers thee with
 frowning looks, I’ll sauce her with bitter words. (To
75Why look you so upon me?
PHOEBE For no ill will I bear you.
ROSALIND, as Ganymede 
 I pray you, do not fall in love with me,
 For I am falser than vows made in wine.
 Besides, I like you not. If you will know my house,
80 ’Tis at the tuft of olives, here hard by.—
 Will you go, sister?—Shepherd, ply her hard.—
 Come, sister.—Shepherdess, look on him better,
 And be not proud. Though all the world could see,
 None could be so abused in sight as he.—
85 Come, to our flock.
She exits, with Celia and Corin.
PHOEBE, aside 
 Dead shepherd, now I find thy saw of might:
 “Who ever loved that loved not at first sight?”
 Sweet Phoebe—
PHOEBE  Ha, what sayst thou, Silvius?
SILVIUS 90Sweet Phoebe, pity me.
 Why, I am sorry for thee, gentle Silvius.
 Wherever sorrow is, relief would be.

As You Like It
ACT 3. SC. 5

 If you do sorrow at my grief in love,
 By giving love your sorrow and my grief
95 Were both extermined.
 Thou hast my love. Is not that neighborly?
 I would have you.
PHOEBE  Why, that were covetousness.
 Silvius, the time was that I hated thee;
100 And yet it is not that I bear thee love;
 But since that thou canst talk of love so well,
 Thy company, which erst was irksome to me,
 I will endure, and I’ll employ thee too.
 But do not look for further recompense
105 Than thine own gladness that thou art employed.
 So holy and so perfect is my love,
 And I in such a poverty of grace,
 That I shall think it a most plenteous crop
 To glean the broken ears after the man
110 That the main harvest reaps. Loose now and then
 A scattered smile, and that I’ll live upon.
 Know’st thou the youth that spoke to me erewhile?
 Not very well, but I have met him oft,
 And he hath bought the cottage and the bounds
115 That the old carlot once was master of.
 Think not I love him, though I ask for him.
 ’Tis but a peevish boy—yet he talks well—
 But what care I for words? Yet words do well
 When he that speaks them pleases those that hear.
120 It is a pretty youth—not very pretty—
 But sure he’s proud—and yet his pride becomes

As You Like It
ACT 3. SC. 5

 He’ll make a proper man. The best thing in him
 Is his complexion; and faster than his tongue
125 Did make offense, his eye did heal it up.
 He is not very tall—yet for his years he’s tall.
 His leg is but so-so—and yet ’tis well.
 There was a pretty redness in his lip,
 A little riper and more lusty red
130 Than that mixed in his cheek: ’twas just the
 Betwixt the constant red and mingled damask.
 There be some women, Silvius, had they marked
135 In parcels as I did, would have gone near
 To fall in love with him; but for my part
 I love him not nor hate him not; and yet
 I have more cause to hate him than to love him.
 For what had he to do to chide at me?
140 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.
 But that’s all one: omittance is no quittance.
 I’ll write to him a very taunting letter,
145 And thou shalt bear it. Wilt thou, Silvius?
 Phoebe, with all my heart.
PHOEBE  I’ll write it straight.
 The matter’s in my head and in my heart.
 I will be bitter with him and passing short.
150 Go with me, Silvius.
They exit.