As You Like It — Act 3, Scene 4 · Shakespeare for Bharat

ROSALIND

Never talk to me; I will weep.

CELIA

Do, I prithee; but yet have the grace to considerthat tears do not become a man.

ROSALIND

But have I not cause to weep?

CELIA

As good cause as one would desire; therefore weep.

ROSALIND

His very hair is of the dissembling colour.

CELIA

Something browner than Judas's marry, his kisses areJudas's own children.

ROSALIND

I' faith, his hair is of a good colour.

CELIA

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

ROSALIND

And his kissing is as full of sanctity as the touchof holy bread.

CELIA

He hath bought a pair of cast lips of Diana: a nunof 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, andcomes not?

CELIA

Nay, certainly, there is no truth in him.

ROSALIND

Do you think so?

CELIA

Yes; I think he is not a pick-purse nor ahorse-stealer, but for his verity in love, I dothink him as concave as a covered goblet or aworm-eaten nut.

ROSALIND

Not true in love?

CELIA

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

ROSALIND

You have heard him swear downright he was.

CELIA

'Was' is not 'is:' besides, the oath of a lover isno stronger than the word of a tapster; they areboth the confirmer of false reckonings. He attendshere in the forest on the duke your father.

ROSALIND

I met the duke yesterday and had much question withhim: he asked me of what parentage I was; I toldhim, of as good as he; so he laughed and let me go.But what talk we of fathers, when there is such aman as Orlando?

CELIA

O, that's a brave man! he writes brave verses,speaks brave words, swears brave oaths and breaksthem bravely, quite traverse, athwart the heart ofhis lover; as a puisny tilter, that spurs his horsebut on one side, breaks his staff like a noblegoose: but all's brave that youth mounts and follyguides. Who comes here?

CORIN

Mistress and master, you have oft inquiredAfter the shepherd that complain'd of love,Who you saw sitting by me on the turf,Praising the proud disdainful shepherdessThat was his mistress.

CELIA

Well, and what of him?

CORIN

If you will see a pageant truly play'd,Between the pale complexion of true loveAnd 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.Bring us to this sight, and you shall sayI'll prove a busy actor in their play.