As You Like It

Act 3, Scene 4

Enter ROSALIND and CELIA

ROSALIND and CELIA enter.

ROSALIND

Never talk to me. I will weep.

ROSALIND

Don’t talk to me. I’m going to cry.

CELIA

Do, I prithee, but yet have the grace to consider that tears do not become a man.

CELIA

Go ahead if you want, but remember that crying doesn’t suit a man.

ROSALIND

But have I not cause to weep?

ROSALIND

But don’t I have good reason to cry?

CELIA

As good cause as one would desire. Therefore weep.

CELIA

As good a reason as any. So go ahead and cry.

ROSALIND

His very hair is of the dissembling color.

ROSALIND

I mean, his hair is even red—the same color as that lying Judas.

CELIA

Something browner than Judas’. Marry, his kisses are

Judas’ own children.

CELIA

No, it’s a shade browner than Judas’—but his kisses are just like Judas’.

ROSALIND

I’ faith, his hair is of a good color.

ROSALIND

No, really, his hair is a nice color.

CELIA

An excellent color. Your chestnut was ever the only color.

CELIA

A very good color, this chestnut.

ROSALIND

And his kissing is as full of sanctity as the touch of holy bread.

ROSALIND

His kiss is as holy as bread blessed by a priest.

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.

CELIA

He must have bought a cast-iron pair of Diana’s lips: an elderly nun isn’t anymore devoted in her kissing than he is. His kiss is cold and chaste.

ROSALIND

But why did he swear he would come this morning, and comes not?

ROSALIND

But why would he promise to come visit me this morning and then not come?

CELIA

Nay, certainly, there is no truth in him.

CELIA

Really, he’s a total liar.

ROSALIND

Do you think so?

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 a covered goblet or a worm-eaten nut.

CELIA

Yes. He’s not a pickpocket or a horse thief, but when it comes to truth in love, he’s as hollow as a cup or a nut hollowed out by a worm.

ROSALIND

Not true in love?

ROSALIND

You think his feelings aren’t true?

CELIA

Yes, when he is in, but I think he is not in.

CELIA

Oh, I think they are—when he’s in love. But he’s not in love.

ROSALIND

You have heard him swear downright he was.

ROSALIND

But you heard him swear up and down that 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.

CELIA

He “was,” but that doesn’t mean he is anymore. Besides, the promises of a lover are as untrustworthy as a bartender handing you an inflated tab: they both swear to their lies. He’s staying in the forest with your father now.

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?

ROSALIND

I met my father in the woods yesterday and had a long conversation with him. He asked me who my parents were, and I told him they were as good as he was. He laughed at that and let me go. But why are we talking about my father, when a man like Orlando exists?

CELIA

Oh, 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.

CELIA

Oh, sure, he’s a brave man! He writes brave poems, speaks brave words, makes brave promises, and then breaks them just as bravely. He’s like a cowardly jouster, who breaks his lance across his opponent’s shield, rather than directly against it. But everything’s brave that a young man does and foolishness leads.

Enter CORIN

CORIN enters.

Who comes here?

Who’s coming here?

CORIN

Mistress and master, you have oft inquired

After the shepherd that complained of love,

Who you saw sitting by me on the turf,

Praising the proud disdainful shepherdess

That was his mistress.

CORIN

Mistress and master, you’ve often asked about that lovelorn shepherd you once saw me sitting with, the one who complained about the disdainful shepherdess he was in love with.

CELIA

(as Aliena) Well, and what of him?

CELIA

Yes, what about him?

CORIN

If you will see a pageant truly played

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.

CORIN

If you’d like to see a scene played out between a man growing pale with unrequited love and a woman glowing with scorn and proud disdain, come with me a short distance and you’ll witness it.

ROSALIND

(aside to CELIA) O, come, let us remove.

The sight of lovers feedeth those in love.

(as Ganymede) Bring us to this sight, and you shall say

I’ll prove a busy actor in their play.

ROSALIND

(speaking so that only CELIAcan hear) Come on, let’s go. The sight of lovers nourishes whoever else is in love. (to CORIN) Bring us to this little show, and I’ll take a part in their play.

Exeunt

They all exit.