Cleopatra’s majesty;
Atalanta’s better part;
Sad Lucretia’s modesty.
Thus Rosalind of many parts
By heavenly synod was devis’d,
Of many faces, eyes, and hearts,
To have the touches dearest priz’d.
Heaven would that she these gifts should have,
And I to live and die her slave.”
ROSALIND
O most gentle Jupiter!—What tedious homily of love have you wearied your parishioners withal, and never cried “Have patience, good people!”
CELIA
How now! back, friends; shepherd, go off a little:—go with him, sirrah.
TOUCHSTONE
Come, shepherd, let us make an honourable retreat; though not with bag and baggage, yet with scrip and scrippage.
[Exeunt CORIN and TOUCHSTONE.]
CELIA
Didst thou hear these verses?
ROSALIND
O, yes, I heard them all, and more too; for some of them had in them more feet than the verses would bear.
CELIA
That’s no matter; the feet might bear the verses.
ROSALIND
Ay, but the feet were lame, and could not bear themselves without the verse, and therefore stood lamely in the verse.
CELIA
But didst thou hear without wondering how thy name should be hanged and carved upon these trees?
ROSALIND
I was seven of the nine days out of the wonder before you came; for look here what I found on a palm-tree: I was never so berhymed since Pythagoras’ time, that I was an Irish rat, which I can hardly remember.
CELIA
Trow you who hath done this?
ROSALIND
Is it a man?
CELIA
And a chain, that you once wore, about his neck. Change you colour?
ROSALIND
I pray thee, who?
CELIA
O lord, lord! it is a hard matter for friends to meet; but mountains may be removed with earthquakes, and so encounter.
ROSALIND
Nay, but who is it?
CELIA
Is it possible?
ROSALIND
Nay, I pr’ythee now, with most petitionary vehemence, tell me who it is.
CELIA
O wonderful, wonderful, most wonderful wonderful! and yet again wonderful, and after that, out of all whooping!
ROSALIND
Good my complexion! dost thou think, though I am caparisoned like a man, I have a doublet and hose in my disposition? One inch of delay more is a South-sea of discovery. I pr’ythee tell me who is it? quickly, and speak apace. I would thou couldst stammer, that thou mightst pour this concealed man out of thy mouth, as wine comes out of narrow-mouth’d bottle; either too much at once or none at all. I pr’ythee take the cork out of thy mouth that I may drink thy tidings.
CELIA
So you may put a man in your belly.
ROSALIND
Is he of God’s making? What manner of man? Is his head worth a hat or his chin worth a beard?
CELIA
Nay, he hath but a little beard.
ROSALIND
Why, God will send more if the man will be thankful: let me stay the growth of his beard, if thou delay me not the knowledge of his chin.
CELIA
It is young Orlando, that tripped up the wrestler’s heels and your heart both in an instant.
ROSALIND
Nay, but the devil take mocking: speak sad brow and true maid.
CELIA
I’ faith, coz, ‘tis he.
ROSALIND
Orlando?
CELIA
Orlando.
ROSALIND
Alas the day! what shall I do with my doublet and hose?— What did he when thou saw’st him? What said he? How look’d he? Wherein went he? What makes he here? Did he ask for me? Where remains he? How parted he with thee? and when shalt thou see him again? Answer me in one word.
CELIA
You must borrow me Gargantua’s mouth first: ‘tis a word too great for any mouth of this age’s size. To say ay and no to these particulars is more than to answer in a catechism.
ROSALIND
But doth he know that I am in this forest, and in man’s apparel? Looks he as freshly as he did the day he wrestled?
CELIA
It is as easy to count atomies as to resolve the propositions of a lover:—but take a taste of my finding him, and relish it with good observance. I found him under a tree, like a dropp’d acorn.
ROSALIND
It may well be called Jove’s tree, when it drops forth such fruit.
CELIA
Give me audience, good madam.
ROSALIND
Proceed.
CELIA
There lay he, stretched along like a wounded knight.
ROSALIND
Though it be pity to see such a sight, it well becomes the ground.
CELIA
Cry, “holla!” to thy tongue, I pr’ythee; it curvets unseasonably. He was furnished like a hunter.
ROSALIND
O, ominous! he comes to kill my heart.
CELIA
I would sing my song without a burden: thou bring’st me out of tune.
ROSALIND
Do you not know I am a woman? when I think, I must speak. Sweet, say on.
CELIA
You bring me out.—Soft! comes he not here?
ROSALIND
‘Tis he: slink by, and note him.
[CELIA and ROSALIND retire.]
[Enter ORLANDO and JAQUES.]
JAQUES
I thank you for your company; but, good faith, I had as lief have been myself alone.
ORLANDO
And so had I; but yet, for fashion’s sake, I thank you too for your society.
JAQUES
God buy you: let’s meet as little as we can.
ORLANDO
I do desire we may be better strangers.
JAQUES
I pray you, mar no more trees with writing love songs in their barks.
ORLANDO