Celia.
Ros.
Never talk to me, I will weep.
Cel.
Do, I pr'ythee; 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 colour.
Cel.
Something browner than Judas's8 note
: marry,
his kisses are Judas's own children.
-- 452 --
Ros.
I'faith, his hair is of a good colour9 note.
Cel.
An excellent colour: your chesnut was
ever the only colour.
Ros.
And his kissing is as full of sanctity as the
touch of holy bread1 note.
Cel.
He hath bought a pair of cast lips of
Diana2 note: a nun of winter's sisterhood3 note
kisses not
-- 453 --
more religiously; the 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.
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 cover'd goblet4 note
, or a worm-eaten
nut.
Ros.
Not true in love?
Cel.
Yes, when he is in; but, I think he is 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 confirmers of false reckonings: He attends
here in the forest on the duke your father.
Ros.
I met the duke yesterday, and had much
question5 note
with him: He ask'd me, of what parentage
I was; I told him, of as good as he; so he
laugh'd, 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
-- 454 --
verses, speaks brave words, swears brave oaths, and
breaks them bravely, quite traverse, athwart6 note
the
-- 455 --
heart of his lover7 note
; as a puny 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.
Cor.
Mistress, and master, you have oft enquired
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;
The sight of lovers feedeth those in love:—
Bring us unto this sight, and you shall say
I'll prove a busy actor in their play.
[Exeunt.
James Boswell [1821], The plays and poems of William Shakspeare, with the corrections and illustrations of various commentators: comprehending A Life of the Poet, and an enlarged history of the stage, by the late Edmond Malone. With a new glossarial index (J. Deighton and Sons, Cambridge) [word count] [S10201].
