Act III, Scene iv:
Another part of the forest. Before a Cottage.

[Enter ROSALIND and CELIA.]

ROSALIND:

Never talk to me; I will weep.

CELIA:

Do, I pr'ythee; 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 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 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.]

CORIN:

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.

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.

[Exeunt.]