ACT 3, SCENE 4: The forest.


ROSALIND: Never talk to me; I will weep.

CELIA: Do, I prithee; but yet have the grace to con-
sider that tears do not become a man.

ROSALIND: But have I not cause to weep?

CELIA: As good cause as one would desire; therefore                                   [5]

ROSALIND: His very hair is of the dissembling colour.

CELIA: Something browner than Judas's: marry, his
kisses are Judas's own children.

ROSALIND: I' faith, his hair is of a good colour.                                            [10]

CELIA: An excellent colour: your chestnut was ever the
only colour.

ROSALIND: And his kissing is as full of sanctity as the
touch of holy bread.

CELIA: He hath bought a pair of cast lips of Diana: a                                     [15]
nun of winter's sisterhood kisses not more religiously;
the very ice of chastity is in them.

ROSALIND: But why did he swear he would come this
morning, and comes not?

CELIA: Nay, certainly, there is no truth in him.                                             [20]

ROSALIND: Do you think so?

CELIA: Yes; I think he is not a pick-purse nor a horse-
stealer, but for his verity in love, I do think him as
concave as a covered goblet or a worm-eaten nut.

ROSALIND: Not true in love?                                                                           [25]

CELIA: Yes, when he is in; but I think he is not in.

ROSALIND: You have heard him swear downright he

CELIA: 'Was' is not 'is:' besides, the oath of a lover
is no stronger than the word of a tapster; they are                             [30]
both the confirmer of false reckonings. He attends
here in the forest on the duke your father.

ROSALIND: I met the duke yesterday and had much
question with him: he asked me of what parentage
I was; I told him, of as good as he; so he laughed and                       [35]
let me go. But what talk we of fathers, when there is
such a man as Orlando?

CELIA: O, that's a brave man! he writes brave verses,
speaks brave words, swears brave oaths and breaks
them bravely, quite traverse, athwart the heart of                             [40]
his lover; as a puisny tilter, that spurs his horse but on
one side, breaks his staff like a noble goose: but all's
brave that youth mounts and folly guides. Who
comes here?

Enter CORIN.

CORIN: Mistress and master, you have oft inquired                                     [45]
After the shepherd that complain'd of love,
Who you saw sitting by me on the turf,
Praising the proud disdainful shepherdess
That was his mistress.

CELIA:                           Well, and what of him?

CORIN: If you will see a pageant truly play'd,                                                 [50]
Between the pale complexion of true love
And the red glow of scorn and proud disdain,
Go hence a little and I shall conduct you,
If you will mark it.

ROSALIND:                           O, come, let us remove:
The sight of lovers feedeth those in love.                                            [55]
Bring us to this sight, and you shall say
I'll prove a busy actor in their play.


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