SCENE IV
The forest.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?
Cel.
As good cause as one would desire;
therefore weep.
Ros.
His very hair is of the dissembling
color.
Cel.
Something browner than Judas's: (10)
marry, his kisses are Judas's own children.
Ros.
I' faith, his hair is of a good color.
Cel.
An excellent color: your chestnut
was ever the only color.
Ros.
And his kissing is as full of sanctity
as the touch of holy bread.
Cel.
He hath bought a pair of cast lips of
Diana: a nun of winter's sisterhood kisses
not more religiously; the very ice of chastity
is in them.
Ros.
But why did he swear he would come (21)
this morning, and comes not?
Cel.
Nay, certainly, there is no truth in him.
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?
Cel.
Yes, when he is in; but I think he is (30)
not in.
Ros.
You have heard him swear downright
he was.
Cel.
'Was' is not 'is:' besides, the oath
of a lover is no stronger than the word of a
tapster; they are both the confirmer of false
reckonings. He attends here in the forest 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?
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 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. (50)
Cor.
Mistress and master, you have oft inquired
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.
Cel.
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.
O, come, let us remove: (60)
The sight of lovers feedeth those in love.
Bring us to this sight, and you shall say
I'll prove a busy actor in their play. [Exeunt.
