As You Like It

Act 3, Scene IV

Enter ROSALIND and CELIA

ROSALIND

Never talk to me; I will weep.

CELIA

Do, I prithee; but yet have the grace to consider

that 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 are

Judas'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 touch

of holy bread.

CELIA

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.

ROSALIND

But why did he swear he would come this morning, and

comes 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 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?

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 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.

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 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

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

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,

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.

Bring us to this sight, and you shall say

I'll prove a busy actor in their play.