Act 3 — 000 Scene IV. The forest.
Reading edition
000 Scene IV. The forest.
AYLI III. 4 Enter Rosalind and Celia.
Ros. Never talk to me; I will weep.
Cel. Do, I prithee; but yet have the grace to consider that tears do not become a man.
Ros. But have I not cause to weep?
005 Cel. As good cause as one would desire; therefore weep.
Ros. His very hair is of the dissembling colour.
Cel. Something browner than Judas’s: marry, his kisses are Judas’s own children.
Ros. I’ faith, his hair is of a good colour.
010 Cel. An excellent colour: your chestnut was ever the only colour.
012 Ros. And his kissing is as full of sanctity as the touch 013 of holy bread.
014 Cel. He hath bought a pair of cast lips of Diana: a nun of winter’s sisterhood kisses not more religiously; the 015 very ice of chastity is in them.
Ros. But why did he swear he would come this morning, and comes not?
Cel. Nay, certainly, there is no truth in him.
020 Ros. Do you think so?
Cel. 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.
Ros. Not true in love?
025 Cel. Yes, when he is in; but I think he is not in.
Ros. You have heard him swear downright he was.
027 Cel. ‘Was’ is not ‘is:’ besides, the oath of a lover is no stronger than the word of a tapster; they are both the 029 confirmer of false reckonings. He attends here in the forest 030 on the Duke your father.
Ros. 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 let me go. But what talk we of fathers, when there is such a man as Orlando?
035 Cel. 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 his lover; as a 038 puisny tilter, that spurs his horse but on one side, breaks 039 his staff like a noble goose: but all’s brave that youth 040 mounts and folly guides. Who comes here?
Enter Corin.
Cor. Mistress and master, you have oft inquired After the shepherd that complain’d of love, 043 Who you saw sitting by me on the turf, Praising the proud disdainful shepherdess That was his mistress. Cel. 045 Well, and what of him? Cor. If you will see a pageant truly play’d, 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. Ros. 050 O, come, let us remove: The sight of lovers feedeth those in love. 052 Bring us to this sight, and you shall say I ’ll prove a busy actor in their play. [Exeunt.