As You Like It presents an ideal world, just as The Merchant of Venice did. The Forest of Arden has as much romance, as many delightful lovers, more laughter and Joy. Lamb, Charles and Mary. Like A Midsummer Night's Dream and The Merchant of Venice, it is built by means of two worlds: the world ruled by Duke Frederick and the world of the Forest of Arden. Lamb, Charles and Mary. The effect is not the "separate but equal" envelope structure of A Midsummer Night Dream, nor the interlocking and necessary alternation of The Merchant of Venice; instead, Frederick's world first seems dominant and then dissolves and disappears into the world of Arden. Lamb, Charles and Mary. Its life seems to be in the play not so much for itself as to help us understand and read its successor.

There is a set of contrasts between the two worlds of this play, but the contrasts are describable not in terms of opposition of power, as in A Midsummer Night's Dream and The Merchant of Venice, but in terms of attitudes of the dominant characters, as in Much Ado About Nothing, and in terms of differences in the settings and of changes in behavior for those characters who are part of both worlds. Lamb, Charles and Mary. These contrasts are easy to describe because Shakespeare points the way clearly, making each world an extreme. Our approach will be to examine the qualities of Frederick's world, then to examine the qualities of Arden, and finally out of this contrast to see how the characters behave in each world. Lamb, Charles and Mary.

We have seen power presented in A Midsummer Night's Dream and The Merchant of Venice. In the former, Theseus rules according to judgment or reason. Lamb, Charles and Mary. In the latter the Duke of Venice rules according to the laws of the city. Frederick's world is like neither of these. Frederick is in complete command of his court. Lamb, Charles and Mary. He has taken his brother's place as Duke, exiled him with many of his followers, seized their lands for his own, and now rules. Lamb, Charles and Mary. His high-handed behavior is illustrated by his usurpation of his brother's dukedom, his immediate displeasure at Orlando, the sudden dismissal of Rosalind, the quick seizure of Oliver's lands. Lamb, Charles and Mary. What is most characteristic of his power is that it is arbitrary; neither reason nor law seems to control it.

When we look for his motives, we discover two kinds. His greed for power and possessions is obvious. But personal attitudes are just as strong. Lamb, Charles and Mary. He treats Orlando rudely because he is the son of Sir Rowland de Boys, an old enemy of his. He comes to hate Rosalind, giving as his reasons that he does not trust her, that she is her father's daughter, that his own daughter's prestige suffers by comparison; all these are half-hearted rationalizations rooted in jealousy and envy. Shmoop Editorial Team. Frederick's behavior is echoed if not matched by Oliver's treatment of his brother Orlando and of his servant Adam. Oliver demeans and debases his younger brother; he plots his serious injury and later his death. He acts ignobly toward his faithful household servant Adam. Shmoop Editorial Team. Again, the motivations are mixed. Shmoop Editorial Team. He states explicitly that he wants Orlando's share of their father's bequest. But, beyond that, he wants to get rid of Orlando out of envy, out of fear of comparison made by others. Shmoop Editorial Team.
My soul (yet I know not why) hates nothing more than he. Shmoop Editorial Team. Yet he's gentle, never school'd and yet learned, full of noble device, of all sorts enchantingly belov'd, and indeed so much in the heart of the world, and especially of my own people, who best know him, that I am altogether mispris'd. Shmoop Editorial Team. [I. i. 165-71] Thus, "tyrant Duke" and "tyrant brother" are described in tandem, public and private images of the same behavior. Shmoop Editorial Team. They have the power, they control their world; they do not fear disapproval or reprisal. Shmoop Editorial Team. Charles the wrestler, Lebeau and other lords surrounding Frederick, however many reservations they may have about the morality of their leaders, do not dare to question their authority. Shmoop Editorial Team. They have their own positions to protect. Shmoop Editorial Team.

Those chiefly harmed by the ruthless domination of these men are Orlando and Rosalind. Smith, Tom. CliffsNotes on As You Like It. They have committed no fault but they are hated. Smith, Tom. CliffsNotes on As You Like It. Their presence too gives definition to Frederick's world. Orlando has virtue, grace, beauty, and strength. Smith, Tom. CliffsNotes on As You Like It. Rosalind is beautiful, intelligent, virtuous, honest. Their actions, their reputations, the loyalty they command all testify to these wonders. Smith, Tom. CliffsNotes on As You Like It. Yet both of them are conscious of what they do not have—their proper place and heritage in this world. Smith, Tom. CliffsNotes on As You Like It. Orlando feels deeply his brother's injury in depriving him of his education and his place in the household. Smith, Tom. CliffsNotes on As You Like It. Rosalind is sad at her father's banishment and then indignant at her own dismissal. Both are too virtuous to think of revenge. Smith, Tom. CliffsNotes on As You Like It. But they are fully aware that they are being wronged. Having all the graces, they are nevertheless dispossessed of their rightful positions. Smith, Tom. CliffsNotes on As You Like It.

Yet, these two have their own power. Smith, Tom. CliffsNotes on As You Like It. When they leave Frederick's world, they draw after them others, too loyal, too loving to remain behind. Smith, Tom. CliffsNotes on As You Like It. Celia, meant to profit from her cousin's departure, follows Rosalind into banishment without question or remorse. "Principal Characters: As You Like It." She has already promised that what her father took from Rosalind's father by force, "I will render thee again in affection" [I. ii. 20-1]. "Principal Characters: As You Like It." And when the test occurs soon after, she meets it at once. In her, love triumphs hands down over possession and prestige. "Principal Characters: As You Like It." Her example is followed by the Clown. Not only will he "go along o'er the wide world" [I. iii. 132] with Celia out of loyalty to her;, he has also, in Frederick's world, lost place just as Rosalind has. "Principal Characters: As You Like It." There "fools may not speak wisely what wise men do foolishly" [I. ii. 86-7]. "Principal Characters: As You Like It." Since he has lost his usefulness as a fool, he may as well leave with Celia and Rosalind, And Adam is in comparable situation. "Principal Characters: As You Like It." To Oliver, he is an "old dog," to be thrust aside. But so strong is his loyalty to Orlando that he will give him his savings, serve him, accompany him wherever he goes. "Principal Characters: As You Like It."

These gifted models of humanity, Rosalind and Orlando, draw out of Frederick's world the loving, the truthful, the loyal, Frederick and Oliver, seeking to control and ultimately to crash their enemies, only succeed in driving away other worthwhile characters with them. "Principal Characters: As You Like It." The world of Frederick is simple in structure. The powerful control, but they envy the virtuous; the virtuous attract, but they want to have their rightful place. "Principal Characters: As You Like It." Those in authority triumph in their own terms, but things happen to them in the process. "Principal Characters: As You Like It." They turn against each other—Frederick would devour Oliver as he has so many others. "Shakespeare's Romantic Heroes: Orlando Reconsidered." Their world, as it grows more violent, diminishes in importance until it disappears altogether. The virtuous are undefeated though displaced. "Shakespeare's Romantic Heroes: Orlando Reconsidered."

In contrast to the specific placing of Frederick's world, the Forest reaches beyond the bounds of any particular place, any specific time. "Shakespeare's Romantic Heroes: Orlando Reconsidered." Its setting is universalized nature. All seasons exist simultaneously. "Shakespeare's Romantic Heroes: Orlando Reconsidered." Duke Senior speaks of "the icy fang And churlish chiding of the winter's wind" [II. i. 6-7]; but Orlando pins verses to "a palm tree," "abuses our young plants with carving," and "hangs odes upon hawthorns, and elegies on brambles" [III. ii. 360-62]; and Rosalind and Celia live at the "tuft of olives." Again, Orlando does not wish to leave Adam "in the bleak air"; but in the next scene Jaques has met a fool who "bask'd him in the sun." The songs continue this mixture: "Here shall he see No enemy But winter and rough weather" [II. v. 6-8] alongside "the greenwood tree" and "the sweet birds throat" [II. v. 1, 4] both in the same song, or the alternation between the "winter wind" [II. vii. 174] and the "spring time, the only pretty ring time" [V. iii. 19], dominant notes in two other songs. If the Forest is not to be defined in season, neither is it limited to any particular place. "Shakespeare's Romantic Heroes: Orlando Reconsidered." The variety of trees already indicates this; the variety of creatures supports it: sheep, deer, a green and gilded snake, a lioness. "Shakespeare's Romantic Heroes: Orlando Reconsidered." Meek and domestic creatures live with the untamed and fierce.

Yet the Forest is more than an outdoors universalized, which largely accommodates itself to the mood and attitude of its human inhabitants. "Shakespeare's Romantic Heroes: Orlando Reconsidered." It is a setting in which the thoughts and images of those who wander through it expand and reach out to the animate, as if the Forest were alive with spirits taken for granted by everyone. "Shakespeare's Romantic Heroes: Orlando Reconsidered." Even so mundane a pair as Touchstone and Audrey, discussing her attributes—unpoetical, honest, foul—assign these gifts to the gods. "Shakespeare's Romantic Heroes: Orlando Reconsidered." Orlando, who is able at first meeting Rosalind only to utter "Heavenly Rosalind," is suddenly released to write expansive verses in praise of her, some of which place her in a spiritual context: ... heaven Nature charg'dThat one body should be fill'dWith all graces wide-enlarg'd...Thus Rosalind of many partsBy heavenly synod was devis'd...[III. ii. 141-43, 149-50] Phoebe seconds his view by giving Rosalind qualities beyond the human:

Art thou god to shepherd turn'd,That a maiden's heart hath burn'd? ...Why, thy godhead laid apart,Warr'st thou with a woman's heart? "Shakespeare's Romantic Heroes: Orlando Reconsidered." [IV. iii. 40-1, 44-5] And Rosalind, replying to Celia's finding Orlando under a tree, "like a dropp'd acorn," says, "It may well be call'd Jove's tree, when it drops such fruit" [III. ii. 235-37]. Elsewhere he is "most gentle Jupiter." And she herself takes the name of Ganymed, cupbearer to Jupiter. Further, in her games with Orlando, she describes an "old religious uncle" who taught her (or him, for she is then playing Ganymed) how to speak well and who imparted knowledge of love, of women's faults, of the forlorn look of the true lover. To this fiction, she joins the later story of how, "since [she] was three year old, [she has] convers'd with a magician, most profound in his art, and yet not damnable" [V. ii. 60-1]. She improvises, but it fits the expansive attributes of the Forest.

But in addition to mind-expanding qualities, the Forest produces some real evidence of its extraordinary powers. Oliver, upon his first appearance in the Forest, is beset by the green and gilded snake (of envy?) and by the lioness (of power?), but when these two are conquered, his whole behavior changes. And Frederick, intent on destroying his brother, meets an "old religious man" and After some question with him, was convertedBoth from his enterprise and from the world.[V. iv. 161-62] And these events harmonize with Rosalind's producing Hymen, the god of weddings, to perform the ceremony and bless the four pairs of lovers. The Forest is a world of all outdoors, of all dimensions of man's better nature, of contact with man's free imagination and magical happenings.

The Forest has still another quality in its setting. It is not timeless but it reflects the slow pace and the unmeasurable change of the earth. The newcomers notice the difference from the world outside. Orlando comments that "there's no clock in the forest" [III. ii. 300-01]; Rosalind tells us "who Time ambles withal, who Time trots withal, who Time gallops withal, and who he stands still withal" [III. ii. 309-11]. And Touchstone, as reported by Jaques, suggests the uselessness of measuring changes in the Forest by the clock: 'Tis but an hour ago since it was nine,And after one hour more 'twill be eleven,And so from hour to hour, we ripe and ripe,And then from hour to hour, we rot and rot;And thereby hangs a tale.[II. vii. 24-8]But he does notice, too, the withering away of man at the Forest's slow changes, a truism later elaborated by Jaques in his seven-ages-of-man speech.

But the qualities of the setting are only part of what goes into the definition of the Forest world. The natives to the Forest make their contributions as well. Corin and Silvius and Phoebe, Audrey and William and Sir Oliver Martext all appear, without seeming consequence or particular plot relevance, put there to show off different dimensions of the Forest, to strike their attitudes, to stand in contrast with the characters newly come from another world, and then, like the deer and the sheep and the snake and the lioness, to retire into the Forest again until or unless called upon by their visitors. These characters have their separate occupations. Corin is an old shepherd, Silvius a young one, Phoebe—his beloved—a shepherdess, Audrey a goat girl, William a country bumpkin, Martext a clergyman. But these assignments are vaguely expressed. Martext, for instance, has professional status but mainly in his own eyes: "ne'er a fantastical knave of them all shall flout me out of my calling" [III. iii. 106-07]. But Jaques dismisses him as a phony and Touchstone wants him to officiate at his marriage to Audrey because he believes him to be a fake. They all seem satisfied to have the name of an occupation rather than the function itself.

But their thoughts are also dissociated from ownership, ambition, achievement. Corin, wanting to help Rosalind and Celia, says: [I] 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.[II. iv. 76-9] The man who owns the sheepcote is not hospitable, is not even there, and has his land up for sale. Silvius, who is supposed to be buying the flock and pasture, "little cares for buying any thing" [II. iv. 90]. Ownership is several steps removed from Corin, and until Rosalind offers to make the purchase he is uncertain who the landlord employing him is; nor does he particularly care. Later, he generalizes his attitude toward life: I am a true laborer: I earn that I eat, get that I wear, owe no man hate, envy no man's happiness, glad of other men's good, content with my harm, and the greatest of my pride is to see my ewes graze and my lambs suck. [III. ii. 73-7]

The other natives share his view. William, Audrey's country lover, confesses to his name, to a certain unspecified amount of wealth, to having "a pretty wit," to loving Audrey, and to lack of learning; but when he is threatened by Touchstone and told to stay away from Audrey, he departs with "God rest you merry, sir" [V. i. 59], and we see no more of him or his love for Audrey. If it is love, it is love detached, without passion or claims. Silvius dedicates himself entirely to love, Phoebe to being the scornful beloved and later the impassioned wooer of Ganymed. They do not express conflict or even action so much as attitude, as pose. "Loose now and then A scatt'red smile," Silvius says to Phoebe, "and that I'll live upon" [III. v. 103-04]. Audrey would be an honest woman, "a woman of the world," but she will not choose between lovers, she will not question Martext's legitimacy, she will be led by Touchstone wherever he wishes. Her future with Touchstone is not bright, as Jaques points out, but she doesn't question it.

In all these natives there is a non-critical quality, an innocence, a lack of competitiveness that suits well with the Forest world and helps to describe it. But Shakespeare gives us still other ways of distinguishing this world from Frederick's. Early in the play Celia and Rosalind engage in idle banter about the two goddesses, Fortune and Nature, who share equally in the lives of men. Fortune "reigns in gifts of the world," Rosalind says, "not in the lineaments of Nature" [I. ii. 41-2]. It is a shorthand way of distinguishing the Forest world from Frederick's. Frederick's world is a world of Fortune, from which the children of Nature are driven. Power, possession, lands, titles, authority over others characterize that world, and men to live there must advance their careers or maintain their positions in spite of everything. The Forest world is completely Nature's. In its natives the idleness, the lack of ambition and combativeness, the carelessness about ownership and possession, the interest in the present moment without plan for the future, all are signs of a Fortune-less world. Instead there is awareness of the gifts inherent from birth in the individual, no matter how untalented or unhandsome (Audrey's response to her foulness or William's self-satisfaction, for instance). These are "the lineaments of Nature," the basic materials of one's being. In the Forest, the natives neither can nor aspire to change them. And the qualities of the setting—universality, gradual rather than specific change, a linkage between the outdoors world and a projected though perhaps imaginary supernatural, these too are compatible with the world of Nature, Fortune having been removed. Both Fortune and Nature, then, are abbreviated terms to epitomize the kinds of worlds represented by Frederick's on the one hand and the Forest's on the other.

One further means of defining the Forest world emerges with the character of Jaques. He has been in the outside world, but he has chosen the Forest and he is its most eloquent spokesman. He is the personification of the speculative man. He will not react when Orlando threatens his life: "And you will not be answer'd with reason, I must die" [II. vii. 100-01]. He will not dance or rejoice in the final scene. He would prevent action in others if he could. He weeps that the Duke's men kill the deer, he would keep Orlando from marring the trees with his poems, he advises Touchstone not to "be married under a bush like a beggar" [III. iii. 84]. He is like the natives of the Forest, ambitionless, fortuneless, directionless. Instead, he gives his attention to the long view and the abstract view. He is delighted when he overhears Touchstone philosophizing about time; he projects human neglect in the deer at the coming of death for one of their company; he argues the innocent indifference of the deer to corruption and inhumanity in man: Thus most invectively he pierceth throughThe body of the country, city, court,Yea, and of this our life, swearing that weAre mere usurpers, tyrants, and what's worse,To fright the animals and to kill them upIn their assign'd and native dwelling-place.[II. i. 58-63] When he would invoke the privilege of the fool to "Cleanse the foul body of th' infected world" [II. vii. 60] the Duke replies that with his past experience of evil he would succeed only in doing "Most mischievous foul sin" [II. vii. 64]. In the abstract (in the Forest), his proposal sounds good; in the world of action it would be damaging.

But his greatest eloquence is saved for his seven-ages-of-man speech [II. vii. 139-66]. It is an official acknowledgement of Nature's supremacy over man and the insignificance of man's affairs on the stage of the world. The movement of the speech is circular, from Nature through the efforts to shape natural gifts in man, to Fortune's world, and back to Nature again. Thus, the helplessness of infancy gives way to "the whining schoolboy" which in turn is followed by "the lover, Sighing like furnace, with a woeful ballad Made to his mistress' eyebrow." In the first three, we find pleasantly humorous recognition of the supremacy of Nature and the attempts to shape and apply natural gifts in man. The fourth and fifth, the soldier and the justice, suggest the ascendancy of Fortune in man's life—the soldier seeking the "bubble reputation," the justice "Full of wise saws and modern instances." But these temporary achievements disappear as Nature reclaims her own, first in the "slipper'd pantaloon" whose "big manly voice" turns "again toward childish treble" and finally in frightening second childishness, "Sans teeth, sans eyes, sans taste, sans every thing." In such a view, and in the view most congenial to the Forest world, "All the world's a stage, And all the men and women merely players." There are no consequences that matter.

Duke Senior, like Jaques, has had experience in both worlds. He too is being "philosophical." Their life in the Forest Finds tongues in trees, books in the running brooks,Sermons in stones, and good in every thing.[II. i. 16-17] He and his men "fleet the time carelessly, as they did in the golden world" [I. i. 118-19]. But for the Duke and his men, it is only play-acting. They appear in one scene as Foresters, in another as outlaws. He himself has lost his name: he is Duke Senior, not specifically named like Frederick. More than that, he has nothing serious to do. While his brother is seizing Oliver's lands and organizing a search for his daughter and seeking to destroy him, he is contemplating a deer hunt or asking for Jaques to dispute with or feasting or asking someone to sing. Duke Senior has no function to perform; he cannot be a Duke except in title. All the philosophical consolations he may offer himself and his men cannot alleviate the loss he feels at being usurped and banished by his brother. When Orlando reminds him of the outside world, he confesses: "True is it that we have seen better days" [II. vii. 120] and reinforces this reminiscence of the past by commenting on his present condition:

Thou seest we are not all alone unhappy:This wide and universal theatrePresents more woeful pageants than the sceneWherein we play in.[II. vii. 136-39] He is remarking on shared misery; he is using the same imagery of playing used by Jaques. But for Jaques it is made speculative, objectified; for Duke Senior, he and his fellows are participating in a play. His longings are elsewhere. It is not surprising that at the end, he resumes leadership over everyone and plans to return to active rule of his dukedom. What is true of him is true with more immediacy of others newly arrived in the Forest. The clown, who assumes the name Touchstone, undergoes the same ambivalence. His first reaction to the Forest is negative: "Ay, now am I in Arden, the more fool I. When I was at home, I was in a better place" [II. iv. 16-17]. He is no longer practicing his profession of fool, since he is in a fortuneless world: "Call me not fool till heaven hath sent me fortune" [II. vii. 19]. Instead, he assumes several other roles, a liberating exercise for him; the Forest allows him to become expansive, imaginative, to take on the personage of the courtier, of the philosopher, of the wit, of the lover, to condescend to others at random and without consequence. To be able to speak his mind, to express himself, is the Forest's gift to him.