Come apace, good Audrey. I will fetch up your goats, Audrey. And how,
Audrey? Am I the man yet? Doth my simple feature content you?
Come quickly, good Audrey. I'll fetch up your goats, Audrey. And how are you? Audrey? Am I the man for you yet? Does my plain face please you?
Come on, Audrey. I'll go round up your goats. So how is it? Do I look like I might be the one for you? Does my face work for you?
am i good enough do i look okay come on, let's move
Speaks plainly and literally, which is the source of most of her comedy and all of her dignity. When Touchstone piles on philosophical wordplay, she responds with sincere, direct questions — 'Would you not have me honest?' 'Is it a true thing?' — not because she's dim but because she genuinely wants real answers and isn't going to pretend she understood the question. Her literalness is a form of integrity that the more 'educated' characters in this scene entirely lack. Watch for how often she asks the most important question in the room while everyone else is being clever.
Your features, Lord warrant us! What features?
Your features are fair, sir.
You look fine to me.
you look fine
I am here with thee and thy goats, as the most capricious poet, honest
Ovid, was among the Goths.
Than you fair? Nay, I have a text for that. 'He that has a beard is more than a youth, and he that has no beard is less than a man; and he that is more than a youth is not for me, and he that is less than a man, I am not for him.' Therefore I am not for you.
Better than you? Look, I have a logic for this. The man with a beard is grown, the man without isn't. If a man isn't fully grown, he's not for me. So I'm not the one.
i'm comparing myself to a poet in exile quite the reference point for what i'm doing here
house!
Good Audrey, do not desire him; he is a man of too much talk, and too little honesty.
Audrey, don't marry him. All he does is talk, and he means none of it.
don't want him he's all words no truth
When a man’s verses cannot be understood, nor a man’s good wit seconded
with the forward child, understanding, it strikes a man more dead than
a great reckoning in a little room. Truly, I would the gods had made
thee poetical.
When a man cannot be understood through his verses, nor when his good wit is not recognized by a responsive intellect, it kills him more than a great reckoning in a little room. Truly, I wish the gods had made you poetical.
When you're smart but nobody gets it — when your wit just dies because there's no one smart enough to receive it — that's worse than anything. I wish you were clever.
when nobody understands your wit that's the worst death better than any accident i wish you got it
I do not know what “poetical” is. Is it honest in deed and word? Is it
a true thing?
I do not know what 'poetical' is. Is it a true thing?
What does that mean? Is it something real?
what's that is it real
No, truly; for the truest poetry is the most feigning, and lovers are
given to poetry, and what they swear in poetry may be said, as lovers,
they do feign.
No, truly. For the truest poetry is the most dishonest, and lovers are prone to poetry, and what they swear in poetry may be said as lovers do feign.
No, really. The best poetry is the best lying, and lovers are always writing poetry, and anything they promise in verse is just them performing the role of lovers.
poetry is just beautiful lying lovers write it nothing they swear means anything because it's all pretend
Do you wish, then, that the gods had made me poetical?
Do you wish me, then, not to be honest?
So you want me to lie?
you don't want me honest
As You Like It is saturated with performance. Rosalind plays Ganymede, who plays Rosalind. Silvius performs extravagant Petrarchan suffering for Phebe, who performs disdain. Even Celia becomes Aliena. Everyone in Arden has adopted a role.
Audrey has not. She has no alias, no persona, no rhetorical strategy. When Touchstone calls her 'a poor virgin' and 'ill-favoured,' she doesn't reframe it. When he delivers the 'feigning/faining' speech, she asks what 'poetical' means and whether it is 'a true thing.' She is asking, sincerely, for a definition. She cannot navigate the layers of irony available to everyone else in the scene because she doesn't know there are layers.
This makes her, paradoxically, the most honest character in a scene about honesty. The whole conversation circles around 'honest' — whether honesty (chastity) is a virtue or a problem, whether poetry's dishonesty is its strength, whether feigning and desiring are the same thing. Audrey's simple question — 'Would you not have me honest?' — cuts straight through all of this to the center. It's the question Touchstone cannot answer honestly.
Some productions play Audrey as dim. This is wrong. She is literal-minded, not unintelligent. The distinction matters enormously. She knows what she wants (to be married), she asks direct questions when she doesn't understand, and she is not fooled about Touchstone's character — she is simply willing to proceed anyway. Her pragmatism is as clear-eyed as anyone's in the forest. She just doesn't disguise it as philosophy.
I do, truly, for thou swear’st to me thou art honest. Now if thou wert
a poet, I might have some hope thou didst feign.
No, pretty Audrey, I do not desire you to be honest.
No, no, Audrey. That's not what I want.
no audrey i don't want that
Would you not have me honest?
Why then, God forgive me, I am a sinful woman.
Then God help me, because I'm doing something wrong.
then i'm sinning
No, truly, unless thou wert hard-favoured; for honesty coupled to
beauty is to have honey a sauce to sugar.
Not a whit, Audrey; the horn of abundance shall be to you, if you will be married to me.
Not at all. You'll have everything you need if you marry me.
you'll be fine marry me and you'll have plenty
Well, I am not fair, and therefore I pray the gods make me honest.
Would you not have me honest?
So you really don't want me to be honest?
you really don't want honesty
Truly, and to cast away honesty upon a foul slut were to put good meat
into an unclean dish.
No, truly; for the truest poetry is the most feigning.
Not a bit. Poetry's greatest power is lying.
no. poetry is the best lying
I am not a slut, though I thank the gods I am foul.
I am not a woman—I mean, I am a woman, if an honest woman's deed—
I'm confused—I mean, I am a woman, and an honest one if—
i am a woman i'm honest
Well, praised be the gods for thy foulness; sluttishness may come
hereafter. But be it as it may be, I will marry thee. And to that end I
have been with Sir Oliver Martext, the vicar of the next village, who
hath promised to meet me in this place of the forest and to couple us.
Well, praised be the gods for your lack of beauty; at least you will not age badly. But be that as it may, I will marry you. And to that end I have already spoken with Sir Oliver Martext, the vicar of the next village, who has agreed to meet me here in the forest and perform the ceremony.
Thank the gods you're plain, at least — you won't fade. But anyway, I'm going to marry you. I've already talked to Sir Oliver Martext, the vicar from the next village, and he said he'd come here and do the ceremony.
i'm marrying you the vicar agreed he's coming here to do it
Well, the gods give us joy!
God give me joy!
God help me!
god help me
Christopher Marlowe died on May 30, 1593. He was twenty-nine. The coroner's inquest describes a room in Deptford, a dispute over a bill (a 'reckoning'), and a knife wound above the right eye. The man who killed him, Ingram Frizer, was pardoned within a month. Whether Marlowe's death was a tavern quarrel, a political assassination, or something in between has been argued for four centuries.
Shakespeare wrote As You Like It around 1599 — six years after Marlowe's death. Marlowe had been the dominant force in English drama before Shakespeare: Doctor Faustus, Tamburlaine, The Jew of Malta, Edward II. His death removed the only playwright who might have rivaled Shakespeare in longevity and influence.
The line 'a great reckoning in a little room' is not a smoking gun, but the evidence is strong. 'Reckoning' in Elizabethan English meant both a tavern bill and a final accounting — a settling of accounts with fate. 'A little room' describes both the physical space in Deptford and the limited compass of a life cut short. The speech context reinforces it: Touchstone is lamenting the death of a man whose verses 'cannot be understood' and whose 'wit' finds no 'forward child Understanding' to receive it — a poet killed not by deserved obscurity but by a trivial external cause.
That this line is given to the fool, in the middle of a comic hedge-marriage scene, is characteristic Shakespearean concealment. The people who recognized it in 1599 would have felt the weight of it. The people who didn't would have laughed at the marriage. Both responses were available simultaneously. That compression — high stakes hidden inside low comedy — is the scene in miniature.
Amen. A man may, if he were of a fearful heart, stagger in this
attempt, for here we have no temple but the wood, no assembly but
horn-beasts. But what though? Courage! As horns are odious, they are
necessary. It is said, “Many a man knows no end of his goods.” Right.
Many a man has good horns and knows no end of them. Well, that is the
dowry of his wife; ’tis none of his own getting. Horns? Even so. Poor
men alone? No, no, the noblest deer hath them as huge as the rascal. Is
the single man therefore blessed? No. As a walled town is more worthier
than a village, so is the forehead of a married man more honourable
than the bare brow of a bachelor. And by how much defence is better
than no skill, by so much is horn more precious than to want.
Amen. A fearful man might hesitate at this moment, faced with no church but these woods, no congregation but these horned beasts. But what of it? Be brave! Horns are ugly things, yet necessary. It is said a man may not know the end of his wealth. True. A man has fine horns and does not know where they end. It is his wife's dowry; he does not create them himself. Horns? Even so. Are poor unmarried men blessed? No. A walled city is more worthy than an unwalled village, and the forehead of a married man is more honored than the bare brow of a bachelor. And as a wall is better than defenselessness, so horns are more valuable than lacking them entirely.
Amen. A coward might back out right now — there's no real church, just these woods, and our witnesses are goats. But never mind. Courage! Horns are disgusting, but necessary. You know what they say: a rich man never knows how much he has. Same with horns. A man gets them from his wife and never sees the end of them. It's her gift to him, not something he earns. Horns? Even so. Is a single man better off? No. A walled city beats an unwalled village, and a married man's forehead beats a bachelor's bare face. And if walls are better than no protection, then horns are better than nothing.
even without a church it's valid horns are bad but necessary being married means you get cuckolded but unmarried is worse at least horns mean something happened
Is there none here to give the woman?
I am not merry, but I do marry. Come you to marry me?
I'm not jolly about this, but I will marry you. You came to get married, right?
i'll marry you
I will not take her on gift of any man.
Well, marry us.
Go ahead then.
do it
Truly, she must be given, or the marriage is not lawful.
Will you, Audrey?
Will you, Audrey?
will you
Good even, good Master What-ye-call’t, how do you, sir? You are very
well met. God ’ild you for your last company. I am very glad to see
you. Even a toy in hand here, sir. Nay, pray be covered.
Proceed, proceed. I will not marry him until you have a better priest than this man, a man who has a real office, not just hedge-priesthood.
Stop. I'm not letting you marry him with just this guy. You need a real priest, not some hedge-priest.
stop get a real priest this isn't legitimate
Touchstone is the play's most self-aware character. He knows he is a fool — not just by title but by nature. He knows that his philosophical sophistication is partly a performance. And he knows, precisely, what he is doing with Audrey.
The hedge-marriage is not a love story going wrong. It is a transaction being negotiated with elaborate philosophical cover. Touchstone wants Audrey (physically). He also wants social legitimacy for that desire — some ceremony he can call a marriage. And he wants the arrangement to be easily undone if it becomes inconvenient. Sir Oliver Martext serves this purpose almost perfectly: real enough to call it a wedding, disreputable enough to give him an out later.
When Jaques intervenes, Touchstone listens — but not for the reasons Jaques thinks. Jaques tells him to get a proper priest because a hedge-marriage is aesthetically beneath him. Touchstone hears this and agrees to find a better ceremony. But notice what he says about why he was originally inclined toward Martext: 'not being well married, it will be a good excuse for me hereafter to leave my wife.' He was planning the exit before the entrance.
What makes this psychologically interesting rather than simply cynical is that Touchstone is the only character in the play who states his intentions plainly. Orlando doesn't know what he wants from Rosalind. Silvius can't see Phebe clearly. Rosalind herself is disguising her feelings under performance. Touchstone has no such disguise — he says exactly what the marriage is for. His honesty about his dishonesty is the closest thing to self-knowledge anyone in Arden achieves. It just happens to be directed at someone who deserves better.
Will you be married, motley?
And what would your honor have?
What do you want?
what do you want
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.
I will not take her on such terms. You're right — I will get a better priest and repeat the ceremony properly.
You're right. I don't want to marry her like this anyway. I'll get a real priest and do it right.
fine i'll get a real priest
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. This fellow will but join you together as they
join wainscot; then one of you will prove a shrunk panel, and like
green timber, warp, warp.
I like him not now. Why did you not marry him properly? Marry them now and then leave her. I see the cruelty of courtiers toward country girls, and I wanted to spare you from it.
I don't like how this looks. Why not just marry her right and then ditch her later? I wanted to keep him from treating her badly.
marry her proper now then you can leave her i'm sparing her the courtier treatment
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.
You're right. Come on, Audrey. We will find a priest and get married properly. This way is better anyway.
You're right, I'll do it. Come on, Audrey. We'll find a real priest.
let's go we'll get married right
Go thou with me, and let me counsel thee.
Go with a good heart.
Go on then.
off you go
Come, sweet Audrey. We must be married, or we must live in bawdry.
Farewell, good Master Oliver. Not
_O sweet Oliver,
O brave Oliver,
Leave me not behind thee._
But
_Wind away,—
Begone, I say,
I will not to wedding with thee._
Come, sweet Audrey. We must be married, or we must live in sin. Farewell, good Sir Oliver. Not 'O sweet Oliver, O brave Oliver, leave me not behind thee,' but 'Wind away, begone, I say, I will not go to wedding with thee.'
Come on, Audrey. We're getting married or we're living in sin. Goodbye, Sir Oliver. Not 'brave Oliver, don't leave me,' but 'get out of here, I won't marry with you.'
we're getting married or we're living in sin goodbye oliver i don't need you
’Tis no matter. Ne’er a fantastical knave of them all shall flout me
out of my calling.
God rest you merry, sir.
Good luck to you.
goodbye
The Reckoning
This is the play's great comic counterpart to all the serious wooing elsewhere in Arden. Touchstone wants Audrey, wants philosophical cover for wanting her, and wants a marriage just ambiguous enough to be escapable — in that order. Audrey wants to be married and doesn't fully understand the game being played around her, which is the scene's uncomfortable undercurrent. Jaques appears not to stop the marriage on moral grounds but because he finds the absurdity of a hedge-marriage philosophically offensive. The scene ends with Touchstone agreeing to get married properly, but his intentions toward Audrey remain as unclear as his definition of 'poetical.'
If this happened today…
Picture a guy who talks like a philosophy PhD student bringing his girlfriend to get married at a roadside chapel by a notary public whose credentials are definitely not current. His best friend shows up, watches the whole spectacle with visible amusement, and eventually talks him into getting a real officiant — not because it's the right thing to do for her, but because getting married by a fake priest is aesthetically beneath them. The girlfriend just wants to know if she's getting married or not. It's 2025, the roadside chapel has a TikTok account, and the 'philosophy PhD' has been workshopping a speech about why cheating is actually a sign of social status.