But that’s all one; omittance is no quittance.
I’ll write to him a very taunting letter,
And thou shalt bear it: wilt thou, Silvius?
SILVIUS
Phebe, with all my heart.
PHEBE
I’ll write it straight,
The matter’s in my head and in my heart:
I will be bitter with him and passing short:
Go with me, Silvius.
[Exeunt.]
ACT IV
SCENE I. The Forest of Arden
[Enter ROSALIND, CELIA, and JAQUES.]
JAQUES
I pr’ythee, pretty youth, let me be better acquainted with thee.
ROSALIND
They say you are a melancholy fellow.
JAQUES
I am so; I do love it better than laughing.
ROSALIND
Those that are in extremity of either are abominable fellows, and betray themselves to every modern censure worse than drunkards.
JAQUES
Why, ‘tis good to be sad and say nothing.
ROSALIND
Why then, ‘tis good to be a post.
JAQUES
I have neither the scholar’s melancholy, which is emulation; nor the musician’s, which is fantastical; nor the courtier’s, which is proud; nor the soldier’s, which is ambitious; nor the lawyer’s, which is politic; nor the lady’s, which is nice; nor the lover’s, which is all these: but it is a melancholy of mine own, compounded of many simples, extracted from many objects: and, indeed, the sundry contemplation of my travels; in which my often rumination wraps me in a most humorous sadness.
ROSALIND
A traveller! By my faith, you have great reason to be sad: I fear you have sold your own lands to see other men’s; then to have seen much and to have nothing is to have rich eyes and poor hands.
JAQUES
Yes, I have gained my experience.
ROSALIND
And your experience makes you sad: I had rather have a fool to make me merry than experience to make me sad; and to travel for it too.
[Enter ORLANDO.]
ORLANDO
Good day, and happiness, dear Rosalind!
JAQUES
Nay, then, God be wi’ you, an you talk in blank verse.
ROSALIND
Farewell, monsieur traveller: look you lisp and wear strange suits; disable all the benefits of your own country; be out of love with your nativity, and almost chide God for making you that countenance you are; or I will scarce think you have swam in a gondola.
[Exit JAQUES.]
Why, how now, Orlando! where have you been all this while? You a lover!—An you serve me such another trick, never come in my sight more.
ORLANDO
My fair Rosalind, I come within an hour of my promise.
ROSALIND
Break an hour’s promise in love! He that will divide a minute into a thousand parts, and break but a part of the thousand part of a minute in the affairs of love, it may be said of him that Cupid hath clapped him o’ the shoulder, but I’ll warrant him heart-whole.
ORLANDO
Pardon me, dear Rosalind.
ROSALIND
Nay, an you be so tardy, come no more in my sight: I had as lief be wooed of a snail.
ORLANDO
Of a snail!
ROSALIND
Ay, of a snail; for though he comes slowly, he carries his house on his head; a better jointure, I think, than you make a woman: besides, he brings his destiny with him.
ORLANDO
What’s that?
ROSALIND
Why, horns; which such as you are fain to be beholding to your wives for: but he comes armed in his fortune, and prevents the slander of his wife.
ORLANDO
Virtue is no horn-maker; and my Rosalind is virtuous.
ROSALIND
And I am your Rosalind.
CELIA
It pleases him to call you so; but he hath a Rosalind of a better leer than you.
ROSALIND
Come, woo me, woo me; for now I am in a holiday humour, and like enough to consent.—What would you say to me now, an I were your very very Rosalind?
ORLANDO
I would kiss before I spoke.
ROSALIND
Nay, you were better speak first; and when you were gravelled for lack of matter, you might take occasion to kiss. Very good orators, when they are out, they will spit; and for lovers lacking,—God warn us!—matter, the cleanliest shift is to kiss.
ORLANDO
How if the kiss be denied?
ROSALIND
Then she puts you to entreaty, and there begins new matter.
ORLANDO
Who could be out, being before his beloved mistress?
ROSALIND
Marry, that should you, if I were your mistress; or I should think my honesty ranker than my wit.
ORLANDO
What, of my suit?
ROSALIND
Not out of your apparel, and yet out of your suit. Am not I your Rosalind?
ORLANDO
I take some joy to say you are, because I would be talking of her.
ROSALIND
Well, in her person, I say I will not have you.
ORLANDO
Then, in mine own person, I die.
ROSALIND
No, faith, die by attorney. The poor world is almost six thousand years old, and in all this time there was not any man died in his own person, videlicet, in a love-cause. Troilus had his brains dashed out with a Grecian club; yet he did what he could to die before; and he is one of the patterns of love. Leander, he would have lived many a fair year, though Hero had turned nun, if it had not been for a hot midsummer night; for, good youth, he went but forth to wash him in the Hellespont, and, being taken with the cramp, was drowned; and the foolish chroniclers of that age found it was—Hero of Sestos. But these are all lies; men have died from time to time, and worms have eaten them, but not for love.
ORLANDO
I would not have my right Rosalind of this mind; for, I protest, her frown might kill me.
ROSALIND