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Section: ACT IV. ] Scene: SCENE I.

                                                                                                                                                                                                

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ACT IV. SCENE I.


ACT IV. SCENE I.

The forest


Enter ROSALIND, CELIA, and JAQUES



  JAQUES. I prithee, 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 gain'd my experience.


                        Enter ORLANDO



  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.


  ORLANDO. Good day, and happiness, dear Rosalind!


  JAQUES. Nay, then, God buy 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 clapp'd him o' th' 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 woo'd 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

    gravell'd 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 dash'd 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 liv'd many a fair year, though Hero had

    turn'd 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 drown'd; 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. By this hand, it will not kill a fly. But come, now I

    will be your Rosalind in a more coming-on disposition; and ask me  

    what you will, I will grant it.


  ORLANDO. Then love me, Rosalind.


  ROSALIND. Yes, faith, will I, Fridays and Saturdays, and all.


  ORLANDO. And wilt thou have me?


  ROSALIND. Ay, and twenty such.


  ORLANDO. What sayest thou?


  ROSALIND. Are you not good?


  ORLANDO. I hope so.


  ROSALIND. Why then, can one desire too much of a good thing? Come,

    sister, you shall be the priest, and marry us. Give me your hand,

    Orlando. What do you say, sister?


  ORLANDO. Pray thee, marry us.


  CELIA. I cannot say the words.


  ROSALIND. You must begin 'Will you, Orlando'-


  CELIA. Go to. Will you, Orlando, have to wife this Rosalind?


  ORLANDO. I will.


  ROSALIND. Ay, but when?


  ORLANDO. Why, now; as fast as she can marry us.


  ROSALIND. Then you must say 'I take thee, Rosalind, for wife.'


  ORLANDO. I take thee, Rosalind, for wife.  


  ROSALIND. I might ask you for your commission; but- I do take thee,

    Orlando, for my husband. There's a girl goes before the priest;

    and, certainly, a woman's thought runs before her actions.


  ORLANDO. So do all thoughts; they are wing'd.


  ROSALIND. Now tell me how long you would have her, after you have

    possess'd her.


  ORLANDO. For ever and a day.


  ROSALIND. Say 'a day' without the 'ever.' No, no, Orlando; men are

    April when they woo, December when they wed: maids are May when

    they are maids, but the sky changes when they are wives. I will

    be more jealous of thee than a Barbary cock-pigeon over his hen,

    more clamorous than a parrot against rain, more new-fangled than

    an ape, more giddy in my desires than a monkey. I will weep for

    nothing, like Diana in the fountain, and I will do that when you

    are dispos'd to be merry; I will laugh like a hyen, and that when

    thou are inclin'd to sleep.


  ORLANDO. But will my Rosalind do so?


  ROSALIND. By my life, she will do as I do.


  ORLANDO. O, but she is wise.


  ROSALIND. Or else she could not have the wit to do this. The wiser,  

    the waywarder. Make the doors upon a woman's wit, and it will out

    at the casement; shut that, and 'twill out at the key-hole; stop

    that, 'twill fly with the smoke out at the chimney.


  ORLANDO. A man that had a wife with such a wit, he might say 'Wit,

    whither wilt?'


ROSALIND. Nay, you might keep that check for it, till you met your

    wife's wit going to your neighbour's bed.


  ORLANDO. And what wit could wit have to excuse that?


  ROSALIND. Marry, to say she came to seek you there. You shall never

    take her without her answer, unless you take her without her

    tongue. O, that woman that cannot make her fault her husband's

    occasion, let her never nurse her child herself, for she will

    breed it like a fool!


  ORLANDO. For these two hours, Rosalind, I will leave thee.


  ROSALIND. Alas, dear love, I cannot lack thee two hours!


  ORLANDO. I must attend the Duke at dinner; by two o'clock I will be

    with thee again.


  ROSALIND. Ay, go your ways, go your ways. I knew what you would

    prove; my friends told me as much, and I thought no less. That

    flattering tongue of yours won me. 'Tis but one cast away, and  

    so, come death! Two o'clock is your hour?


  ORLANDO. Ay, sweet Rosalind.


  ROSALIND. By my troth, and in good earnest, and so God mend me, and

    by all pretty oaths that are not dangerous, if you break one jot

    of your promise, or come one minute behind your hour, I will

    think you the most pathetical break-promise, and the most hollow

    lover, and the most unworthy of her you call Rosalind, that may

    be chosen out of the gross band of the unfaithful. Therefore

    beware my censure, and keep your promise.


  ORLANDO. With no less religion than if thou wert indeed my

    Rosalind; so, adieu.


  ROSALIND. Well, Time is the old justice that examines all such

    offenders, and let Time try. Adieu.             Exit ORLANDO


  CELIA. You have simply misus'd our sex in your love-prate. We must

    have your doublet and hose pluck'd over your head, and show the

    world what the bird hath done to her own nest.


  ROSALIND. O coz, coz, coz, my pretty little coz, that thou didst

    know how many fathom deep I am in love! But it cannot be sounded;

    my affection hath an unknown bottom, like the Bay of Portugal.


  CELIA. Or rather, bottomless; that as fast as you pour affection  

    in, it runs out.


  ROSALIND. No; that same wicked bastard of Venus, that was begot of

    thought, conceiv'd of spleen, and born of madness; that blind

    rascally boy, that abuses every one's eyes, because his own are

    out- let him be judge how deep I am in love. I'll tell thee,

    Aliena, I cannot be out of the sight of Orlando. I'll go find a

    shadow, and sigh till he come.


  CELIA. And I'll sleep.                                  Exeunt



                                                                                                                                                                                                

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