Original: It is not the fashion to see the lady the epilogue; but it is no more unhandsome than to see the lord the prologue.
Modern: It’s not usual for a woman to deliver the epilogue, but it’s no more inappropriate than having a man deliver the prologue.

Original: 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.
Modern: If it’s true that good wine doesn’t need advertising, then it’s also true that a good play doesn’t need an epilogue; but even good wine uses good advertising, and good plays are made better with good epilogues.

Original: What a case am I in then, that am neither a good epilogue, nor cannot insinuate with you in the behalf of a good play!
Modern: What a difficult position I’m in, since I’m not a good epilogue speaker, and I can’t charm you on behalf of a good play!

Original: I am not furnished like a beggar, therefore to beg will not become me: my way is, to conjure you; and I’ll begin with the women.
Modern: I’m not dressed like a beggar, so begging wouldn’t suit me: my approach is to appeal to you earnestly; and I’ll start with the women.

Original: I charge you, O women! for the love you bear to men, to like as much of this play as please you: and I charge you, O men! for the love you bear to women,’as I perceive by your simpering none of you hate them,’that between you and the women, the play may please.
Modern: I urge you, women! for the love you have for men, to enjoy whatever parts of this play that pleased you: and I urge you, men! for the love you have for women—as I can tell by your smirking that none of you hate them—that between you and the women, this play might be well-received.

Original: 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 as have good beards, or good faces, or sweet breaths, will, for my kind offer, when I make curtsy, bid me farewell.
Modern: If I were a woman, I would kiss as many of you who had beards I liked, faces that appealed to me, and breath that didn’t offend me; and I’m sure that as many of you who have good beards, handsome faces, or sweet breath will, in return for my generous offer, applaud me when I curtsy and say goodbye.

The Epilogue of “As You Like It” is delivered by Rosalind, who remains on stage after the conclusion of the main action. She addresses the audience directly, beginning by acknowledging that it is unusual for a lady to speak an epilogue, comparing it to how it would be equally strange for the lord to speak a prologue. She expresses hope that the play has pleased the audience, noting that if she were a woman, she would kiss as many of the men in the audience as had beards that pleased her, complexions that liked her, and breath that she did not defect.

Rosalind continues by making her appeal to both the women and men in the audience. She asks the women to like as much of the play as pleases them, for the love they bear to men, and requests that the men, for the love they bear to women, ensure the women like the play as well. She concludes by offering to curtsy and bid farewell to the audience, asking them to show their approval through their applause. The epilogue thus serves as a direct and playful appeal to the audience to demonstrate their satisfaction with the performance they have just witnessed.

As You Like It follows the story of Rosalind, daughter of the banished Duke Senior, who lives at court with her cousin Celia under the rule of the usurping Duke Frederick. When the young nobleman Orlando defeats the court wrestler Charles, Rosalind and Orlando fall instantly in love. However, Duke Frederick suddenly banishes Rosalind, fearing her popularity threatens his power. Celia chooses to flee with her beloved cousin, and together they escape to the Forest of Arden where Rosalind’s father lives in exile with his loyal followers.

To ensure their safety during their journey and life in the forest, Rosalind disguises herself as a young man named Ganymede, while Celia takes the identity of a shepherdess called Aliena. Meanwhile, Orlando, having been warned by the faithful servant Adam that his jealous older brother Oliver plans to kill him, also flees to the forest. In Arden, Orlando encounters “Ganymede” and, not recognizing his beloved Rosalind, agrees to cure his lovesickness by wooing the disguised young man as if he were Rosalind herself.

The forest becomes a place of romantic confusion and resolution, populated by various couples including the melancholy Jaques, the fool Touchstone (who pursues the country wench Audrey), and the shepherdess Phebe (who falls for “Ganymede” while spurning her devoted Silvius). The play’s complications multiply when Oliver arrives in the forest, transformed by Orlando’s heroic rescue of him from a lioness, and immediately falls in love with Celia. In the final act, Rosalind orchestrates the resolution of all romantic entanglements by revealing her true identity, leading to multiple marriages. Duke Frederick experiences a religious conversion and restores his brother to power, allowing the court characters to choose between returning to civilization or remaining in the pastoral world of Arden.